Ecce now

Father, it took me so long to learn to call me beautiful. Not because I am not messed up and scarred and sinful when it comes to the looking - without the blood. Without you.

But then, with you... the wonder of it is, with you, I am beautiful. These children are beautiful. These ugly, painful stumps of people are beautiful. These arguments and dissensions - they dissolve into your holiness. I wish I would remember to see everything in the light of you. Everything. Because you are so beautiful - that it hurts to gaze on you. And yet not looking upon you, not having the wonder of you before me - God, that hurts far too much for me to let it be that way.

I hate that I forget this. Hate that I can, for the space of one breathing moment, forget the immensity of your love in my life. How can I forget you? When with every day, every sunrise and storm, reminds me of the glory and the majesty and the wonder that is you? When every cry, and every broken plate, shards of glass on the wayside, lonely people remind me of the brokenness of you? That you took it all?

And yet, we turn away. How?

How? Why? When with every breath that we take, we are reminded of God in the stillness. The same raging, consuming, passionate God in the storm. With every breath, I breathe and I know that I began because of your Spirit. And I live because of your love.

Donne: Batter me, three-person'd God.
Yes, ravish, take entirely, consume me. And forgive my forgetting. And bless my remembering. Here we come, broken, needy, struggling to be proud. And waiting on we don't know what. And suddenly in the stillness, in the singing and the clapping, and the hoping that something will happen - You. You happen. And all I can say is a broken 'God, you're beautiful.'

After the lull

In blogging, I mean. In life, there has been no lull. Just very exciting weather and very unpredictable too. I am struggling with what God has next for me, but while I struggle, I also bask in the luxury of knowing it's his job. Not mine! So much has changed. Externally and internally.

I have changed careers, given up a job, moved countries, changed my prayer priorities (!), learnt ten times more about relationships in one year than in the past 8 or 9... It feels like I am doing more growing up now and learning about myself than I did when I was a teenager, and standing on bright but hazy thresholds. I am still standing on bright but hazy thresholds... but I have grown up, and I am much more cognizant of all that the experience holds, much more critical of my own character and reactions to situations, much more objective, much more subjective.

Sometimes the older diary entries, the blog entries, the memories, the wispy pieces of dialogue preserved in affective memory, all of these seem like that of a familiar stranger. Sometimes my reaction is a sudden remembrance of me - that me. Oh, I remember me. But it is not me any more, is it? There are days when I want to scream this. Other days when I want to take this knowledge in my arms and dance with it. Other days there are when I smile wryly at it and refuse to let it hurt or amuse. There are other days when I am absolutely, gob-smackingly floored by gratitude to the one who will not let go of me, who will hold on to me while I stretch and grow... Sometimes I am so grateful for the growth, for sense and sensibility, that I want to cry.

It's a prerogative, they say, of the woman. I wonder if that is a compliment. I suppose it depends on the complimenter. But sometimes I want to cry, in joy, in absolute, gut-busting, body-propelling joy!

Do boys cry? Yes. And *that* is a compliment. I wish more of them would though.

I don't know

What is it about missions and worship that makes me cry? And hurt so much?

Hugs

I could do with a big, huge, I-am-never-going-to-let-go-even-if-you-fear-awkwardness kind of hug. There are hugs and there are hugs. Awkward side hugs, hugs with only one person kissing, the full, frontal-grab hug, the macho back-pat hug, the back-rub, the hey-look-our-noses-fit-into-our-shoulders hug... hugs at different angles... When you know someone is coming over to hug you, you switch into alert either welcomingly or with a mental uh-oh (you know what's coming: contaaaaaaact!) and bend over with gently bent arms to be ready. At this point, you and the other huger have both completed similar preparatory manoeuvres and are at a 135 from the feet. This is the bum-sticking-out hug. There's the you-can-cry-if-you-want-to-I'm-holding-you hug.

That's the kind I want today.

Father, forgive... again

Father, forgive us for those times when we don't know that you are at work. For those times when it is easier to be superficial than to be real. Forgive us when it's easier to be less passionate - easier to push it under the covers. Easier not to wear our hearts on our sleeves.

After spending all our time thinking about you... or worse still, not thinking about you for one moment of one day... when I am with people, I am the epitome of unfaithfulness. I do not want to look committed. I don't want my first meeting to look like I am unavailable. I will pander. I'd rather not be set aside, ostracised. I'd rather be flirted with 'harmlessly' than lose friendship with the world.

Father, forgive me.

There was a guy and I thought it miiight lead to something. But it's over - which is what I prayed for. That if this wasn't good and right and perfect, then he needed to stop writing to me. It happened. Now if I can just stop analysing...

Actually, I'm doing quite well not-analysing. And I am so grateful to God for keeping me for His purposes.

Memo to me

Well, it's time to confess my acts of infidelity. I have another blog.

Not that that means that I have been regularly blogging there... What's happened since then? A broken hand, a trip home, a long-drawn bureaucratic procedure-thingummajig at Uni, and a move. Another impending move soon - in a week, no less. But those are mundane details.

I bought a new camera :) I have no answers. I have more trust, I believe... although that's hard to quantify and never enough.

I came here to say how amazing it is to be in love with God. How love makes you smile and cry through your smiling and makes you hurt and laugh without reason. How you can have a moment when you're rushing on the way to work - and nobody else knows why you're acting silly... and you act even sillier and happier for that.

And if you could hear me say this, you would hear the glands at work: His timing is never anything less than perfect.

I feel awful. And as if there is no way out. All the dreams I borrowed over two years have gone... maybe. I've got to think maybe because otherwise it's just too hard.

Where is this heading? And will God redeem? I've broken faith with the people that love me, and it feels like I have failed.

What now.

Confession

I've made more than a few mistakes. It seems it just took a year to completely change who I am... But God redeems. I love that passage of Scripture in Job 19, 25 onwards.

I don't know if the road to redemption is success as I see it. It may be. (If it is, then I have three months to rewrite a year). It may not. But I just know that I need to obey God. In some of my most private disobediences no one would consider... And whatever it takes, I must do it.

Living together

You know those times when you're just sorta living together with the person you love? I'm not getting biblical and talking about a relationship outside marriage or anything like it. I'm talking relationship and emotion.

You love God and you have made this decision to live with him for the rest of your life. And you've done it for most of your life, maybe. But suddenly you find yourself going through a few days when you're just living together.

Let me explain. Imagine a relationship - any relationship. You smile at each other, you have breakfast together, you nod to each other to check who's got the keys, you're close enough that a grunt will do to make yourself understood for the little chores you need to get done. Who washes the dishes, excusing yourself to check the oven, knowing when he or she's finished and timing it perfectly to clear his or her glass or plate away.

Admirable really.

But remember reading together before breakfast? Laughing without a joke because you love each other and it seems like a good way to show it? Talking?

Sometimes it's like that with God - and it's actually never his fault. Jesus is pretty brilliant at this stuff. He chose to love us before the world began, and he is pretty good at showing it. This might be stating the obvious - but if the world everyday is not enough, or the little special notes which only you understand because you've prayed about it... if all of that is not enough, look at the cross.

No, God has no problem showing his love. I, on the other hand... I take so much and I give so little. Don't get me wrong... I have this lazy notion that if he wants something, he can always take it. He knows that. But is that enough? I know I would freak if suddenly he wasn't obvious about his love. Yet... How many times can one girl hurt him in a relationship?

No, don't answer that.

News

I've finally done it. I have another blog.

Musings

Okay, let's face it - I m-i-s-s blogging even after only two weeks. There was this Facebook thing (yes, I allow myself to use 'thing' for any word I cannot decide on!) doing the rounds with my friends this week. Yesterday I finally succumbed and am now writing 25 random facts/goals/whatever-else-it-specifies about myself.

Can you believe I was nearly 18 when I first used the internet? For a college project. It's also rather depressing to think that that was nearly six years ago.

There are things I remember about my life that make me incredulous now... more serious things. Things I grew out of, things I didn't even get to because I was being protected. God is so unbelievably busy loving us and making it right for us, eh! God, he's amazing.

I am still worried about church. Correction - I am not worried; I am just not at home. The things that I need to get working on - Church and my inherent laziness and procrastination about work... Actually it's not inherent. It's just been with this degree and now and particularly some weeks. I am going to kill it. Period.

Found John Waller this week. Love some of his work. Really listened to Newsong - beautiful lyrics on their 'Arise, my love'. It is a tear-your-lungs-out desperation when God isn't in your life anymore and to think that Jesus, who was so in union with him, agreed to do that for me... still blows my mind away. MR, our pastor, said there was something about God looking at God and saying 'Arise, my love' that gets you 'here'(and he held his stomach, lol!) - he was right.

I miss my dad.

Had my first ever doner kebab last night. Danced for the second time - well, I dance where no one can see whatever clumsiness I have... lol, but this was in a bop (an Oxford college party) and I actually enjoyed it. Because it was with people I love. The last time it was in a club that I was forced to go to because my erm countrymen declared I didn't want to spend time with them if I didn't. I hated it. This time (I never thought I would say this about a dance) was so much fun. There wasn't the least non-innocent smidge upon the evening and I actually kept time... Lol. There was even a chap who asked if I knew I was gorgeous like he meant it and even that remained innocent. I am not quite sure I liked it though.

Not for the first time, I am tempted to move blogs. I broke my rule of not giving people I know this address. I love you, guys. But I'm wondering what would happen if I stuck to the rules. It would be lonelier - but more to the purpose. No? What happens to this content though? Hhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...........

A Dios!

Honestly and with perfect truth I can say nothing I desire compares with you, God! When I am quiet and at peace within myself, I know everything else I want doesn't have the power to draw my heart out like you do. I love you.

<3

Does your Fb relationship have to say 'In a relationship with ...' before you can put down <3 <3 <3 as your status?!!! :D :D For that matter, mine does say 'In a relationship' for semantic, technical reasons... I'm in the biggest love affair of them all with the best friend ever - Jesus. And I know you understand me :)

I just feel so much in love today. Loving someone and being in love - I think - are two different things. The former is constant and the latter... well, the oftener it's there with the person you love, the better!

Laughter

I've got a random fit of the giggles... I'm thinking of stuff we said and did at meeting, or conversations I had with friends, or just laughable circumstances! And for the life of me, I cannot stop grinning.

I love it when I am happy in God and however much the storm may be brewing around me, the fact that we're in love keeps me smiling - to the point, that I annoy myself for acting rather idiotish! Recently I know my posts haven't been supremely sunshiny me. I apologise for the whining and the ranting. But hey, my space to abuse, as I seem to remember having said before. And I know you guys (the few of you out there) won't begrudge me my raving-lunatic act once in a while.

I am happy today and feeling more like myself in God than I have in a long time. The church question continues. I've been hugely lazy. If you've been following, you know something of what I mean (er, okay, humour me while I imagine a loyal readership ;D). But still the joy that being in his presence brings is simply the most gorgeous feeling I could think of. MK has always remarked on it... he's a pastor, so I guess he's allowed to peek at people when they wroship! It has always been there but recently I've been afraid it'll leave... I am pretty foolish in my image of God, I box him up and fit him into the (very square) corners of my mind - and every time, God breaks out of it and I am in awe. In fact, by now I know I'm limiting God and I know He is bigger... except sometimes it takes me a bit longer to feel it. What can I say? - I'm slow :P

So I have a deadline to meet and it's 2 am in the morning and I am considering a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon tomorrow and I cannot sleep or concentrate because I feel like jumping up into the father's arms and laughing with him. And I wouldn't exchange this for anything in the world.

Happy new year, everyone!


PS Grafxgurl, I really do want to respond to your more-than-generous tagging of me... This post-script is an IOU. Enjoy home doubly seeing as I can't be there! xx

Family - and er etc

I've been reading some of my rants on romance or the lack thereof... and giggling some more! It seems like most of my blogs on the subject have been when I need to complain about it. Rather sad, that. I have met guys who are interesting to talk to, love God and actually care about what you think. I have friends who are fun to be with and easy to make conversation with and who are passionate about the right things. I'm not a 'misandrist (?)'. But unfortunately, my blogging on the romantic front in this country seems to be tempered by my reactions to the Indian-single-abroad-must-marry syndrome or by the it's-natural-to-be-jealous syndrome... Now the first shows symptoms such as:

Hey, you're Indian and you're beautiful. Can I have your number? OR I love you. OR God gave me a revelation last night... [to the uninitiated, this can happen two days into having been introduced, if you happen to be a single woman and Indian ethnically and living in, as it happens, the UK].

The second has only ever happened once but apparently in certain unnamed (non-Indian) parts of the world, it is the general way of life!

It was my parents' wedding anniversary yesterday. I have truly seen love that grows more with time... PErhaps my perception has also grown and changed. They're extremely different but have been so committed to making a family that they have stayed together and learned to love and grow and I will always be grateful for that! It's given me a pretty clear idea of what I want if I do get married as well. You get married, you stay married... and learn together. You put God first. You make the gestures - it's rather pathetic if only one of the two does, and the other doesn't show that he or she cares at all! It's even more pathetic when neither do. I have learned from what I've seen and what I haven't seen. If I ever do find the man God has for me, I want us to share a vision... not bargain about it along the way. If God says something, we both need to learn to obey - implicitly. I could go on and on.

But mainly, I want to thank my amazing parents for our family.

Traditions

My rough patches with God seem to be coming in droves because mainly I ignore them and assume they're done and dusted. Or they ARE done and dusted but I am eternally inventive problem-wise... I feel bad not talking about it and talking about lighter stuff... a bit like True Confessions of a Hollywood Starlet... I'm obviously making my usual messes but happily going to the fair. But I can and shall go to the fair because an AA meeting is bloody boring when that's the diet ALL the time.

I've often been asked what Indian Christmases are... You know what? These are odd questions. It's a home Christmas, okay. The best kind ever ;D But I'm gonna try and paint a picture of what I'm missing (colossally) this year...

There are carols around a bonfire that the kids get excited about even though it's hardly cold. We have loads of biriyani - we visit each other without invites. We are disconcerted when people don't invite themselves... however silly and annoying a cousin can get, family's still family. We listen to Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole and yes, dangit, BoneyM. We LOVE BoneyM this time of year... we still even sell them. However much freakish blondes in somehow voluptuous Santa hats scream out of magazine and CD covers, we will have 'Zion's Daughter' crooned over us. It has never mattered to us whether we weren't Christian professedly... We still prefer Jesus in a manger in a wisp of a girl's arms to Mariah Carey lilting for you for Christmas! Not to say it's not a lovely song - but we're mainly homebodies and maybe we quite like tradition.

Christmas to me conjures up memories of my mum shining with make-believe stories and my dad grunting amused agreement to Santa's sleighbells... Of one memory of a distant bell and a telephone call and a completely empty street that clings to my mind like suction pads on the end of tentacles! When my dad picked up a phone but no one answered, of how it came a minute after I heard those random bells (either because they were ringing or my mum fabricated them into my easy imagination) -- and what stays with me is the fact that I (still) can't forget its excitement :) Christmas conjures up memories of whispering 'Merry Christmas' across the pew to the family - while the Bishop preached. Of hearing my father so-nearly honk his horn at 11 pm in our colony because I am STILL in the bathroom looking at my face or dress or whatever needs the most attention! Of cutting into rich plumcake at 2 am. Of debating whether we open our presents now or at breakfast. And we always have this debate, instead of having decided one way or another over twenty years... I used to wonder why the heck we didn't work ourselves out a tradition and stick with it. Lol - I guess the argument IS tradition!

Some traditions have taken a beating, some stuck around. Some ideas, my father says, should be passed on to me now. Me - I don't like change. If they didn't want to do it, why'd they do it just for me? I ask. And why should I do it when appa's done it every year.... ooohh no, now that is change. So some years we don't put the seed in soon enough for the grain to sprout in front of our little crib. And some years we don't decorate all the windows in time for Christmas eve... And we have our tugs-of-war... And we have family. And family goes like this:
Every year, my dad says: "Finally, Pilgrim can put that tree up now she's all grown up!"
Every year, I say: "But no! We're supposed to do it together!"
And every year, my mum says: "Hey, don't look at me!" or more literally, "Naana? Iye! :P"
And every year, that tree goes up!

In my Christmas prayer, every year of course, I remember to be glad because Christmas CAN be special to our family... because in all the tradition, its joy of birth and beginnings has meaning in our personal lives!

Luuurrrve

God is simply sooooo ace! I break his stuff and his heart and get to climb back on his lap by the end of the day. I'm challenged by the forgiveness I need to show in return.

In reference to my last post - I am back. ~Unfortunately I have this habit of measuring my distance to God - stupid, because He is infinitely holy.

Been listening to 'Mi primer amor' by MArcos Witt. And it's made me think - I'm glad no one ever really had a chance at that in my life. Ten was pretty young to fall head over heels in love and I am glad it was with the right person! Not that that made life hunky-dory afterwards... I make my fair share of messes. And my testimony does not end with the day I was saved - it probably only begins there. Salvation is the end of the beginning, I s'pose.

Picking up the pieces

Broke God's heart today. Not for the first time. Did something I've done once before in my life - just one afternoon of reading romantic fiction... And my bloodthirst for a story led me on to the end but unfortunately one of the links wasn't particularly romantic. So I read completely God-dishonouring stories today. I need to check into the local library to save my fiction-hunger. I knew it was wrong, I guess. There is the Song of Solomon but that should be enough! I am not proud of today - wasted my time and read crap. The two are intertwined. I would be all for reading good fiction any day.

It's funny. As soon as I knew that I'd left God's presence and it shook me up, instead of letting my heart be broken and facing what's worse - that I'd hurt him - I took to bartering. I was thinking dismally that without God's intimate presence, my poetry wasn't going to work. That there may be far-reaching consequences. And my first thought: God, take it; take the poetry... just don't take yourself away. In itself it wasn't a bad thing, I suppose. But sometimes you want to give something up so by beating yourself up, you save on the real pain. The real pain is that you hurt God. Kneeling on cold stone floors or paying absolution money doesn't cut it anymore... you know? He wrote the whole payment chapter. And signed it.

I want to be back, again. I don't want to wait for a far-reaching consequence. I'd rather have the consequences and get back in his presence quicker. But the two don't go together, I'm learning. And as much as that scares me, it also reassures me.

You break his heart, and still only he can pick up the pieces of yours!

Today, I had the best meeting ever with my supervisors... With both of them in the room, EP is very quiet and DC is ... well, abrasive, sometimes. For the first time, DC said 'you can' without any qualifiers and without the noticeable lack of a smile...

And it came after I decided it didn't matter. Doing well is a good thing - right? God wants it for you? But what if it grows to block the way? I said to God that I didn't want my concepts of glory and 'success' standing in the way, and while I wanted this DPhil, I was surrendering everything to His glory, without any disclaimers. And I really gave up my idea of doing well, not in a way that lacked faith but in a way that wanted to hold nothing back.

It wasn't a go-away-and-have-nothing-to-do meeting. There's a lot to do and work up to within a short time.

But I am humbled and happy.