Spoken word - 'beloved'

I've blogged a bit lately about my beLOVED ceremony on 18th November, including the vow that I made, and the order of service. One of the really special bits of the ceremony was when the uber talented Miriam Swaffield performed an incredible spoken word piece that she had written especially for the day. It was amazing! Lots of people have asked me for a copy of it, so with Miriam's permission, here it is:

He speaks. 

He speaks so powerfully life itself is created in a breath. 

He sighs, 

And like chemistry, stars are breathed into being as he gathers dust in the palm of his hands, 

And before you were anyone's good idea or twinkle in the eye, 

You were alive in Him. 

You were named, known, crafted, your soul was designed, 

And you were shaped to be loved, to live pruned back and set free 

From day one you were doted upon into eternity, 

The whisper of his Spirit to you, the whisper on the breeze speaks, "You are beloved, be loved." 

 

We are full. So full of his promise and presence and power 

It's like we are clay jars, a simple vessel, 

But like a vase full of flowers we stand tall, 

We blossom in our fruitfulness, 

So grateful in the Son's light for his unwavering faithfulness, 

Satisfied like fresh water to a thirsty soul, 

Nourished by your word, your truth, you'll never let us go, 

And so we grow, through harsh seasons and new mornings, 

Through late night tears and laughters dawning, 

In the look-me-in-the-eye passion that our Father made us for, 

Like an anchor in our souls, holding firm and secure, 

That allows us to walk brave and free, vulnerable and bold, 

Whilst all the while the whisper echoes from those days of old "You are beloved, be loved." 

 

Kissed by fire, The heavens break open and his presence descends 

And we breathe, for glory and in grace we are drenched, renewed, changed 

He is mercy and justice, he is fierceness and kindness, 

He instills in us a bigger heart, a wider stretch for welcome arms, 

And in him we are home and make home, finding peace where we are, 

Yet we call in one more to find hope in the dark, 

Giving away the gift of belonging, 

Knowing family is an open invite to the upside-down kingdom 

And we won't quit, we won't build walls, we won't close down or grip tight, 

We pray keep this heart soft and strong, help me shine out your light 

So like neon signs in clouded skies the call of God will shine "You are beloved, be loved." 

"You are beloved, be loved."

 

 

Doing life in community

So lately I've been thinking a lot about friendship, and community, and doing life with others. I have the best friends in the whole universe (no, I actually do - I don't care how good you think yours are, mine are better).

4 weeks ago I made vows of dedicated singleness at my beLOVED ceremony (you might not know that - I haven't mentioned it much ;-) ) On that day I was surrounded by my closest friends and greatest supporters. In fact it was really hard because numbers were limited in the venue and there were lots of people I wanted to invite but couldn't. During the ceremony I made vows to the Lord as to how I intend to live my life. And my friends made a vow to support me in doing that. What an amazing, incredible gift that is - the Bishop asked them "Will you support Kate as your friend and sister in Christ in the commitment she is making? Will you pray for her, encourage her and sustain her with your love as she makes this journey of faith?" And they replied "We will!" And they really meant it - they said it really loudly!

So these wonderful people publicly pledged to walk with me through all that lies ahead, both good and bad. I was given lots of beautiful cards on that day. I had asked people not to bring presents (although some still did - naughty! - and thanks!). The cards were an absolute gift and a joy. Words of affirmation are my love language (I've blogged about that before too!), and I love receiving cards with lovely things written in them. The cards have been on display ever since, but this week I took them down so that I could put up my Christmas cards. As I did so, I reread them all. Wow. What an overwhelming display of love and affection and support. I'm an only child and my entire family could fit inside a phone box. And yet here were my brothers and sisters, who had chosen to be there, vowing to stand alongside me through whatever lies ahead. Incredible.

Friendship is such an extraordinary gift. It's a gift because it isn't automatic. There's a choice. No one ever *has* to be your friend, at least not once you're over 5 years old. It's chosen, because of a spark, a shared interest, a shared experience, a sense that here is someone who 'gets' you. With all of my really close friends I can remember the moment I first met them, that feeling of "this is a good person, a fun person, this person could be my friend." Even past the age of 5, there's an excitement in that feeling, as you wonder where it will take you. And there's that fun as you get to know each other better and spend more time together; as you choose to share your secrets, to confide and confess and challenge and console.

My friends are massively important to me. I try really hard to make and maintain friendships. I really need them in my life. I'm an off the scale extrovert (if you know me even 1% of a tiny bit that won't surprise you) and I need to externally process all over the show. This very evening I've been having a long Twitter DM conversation with 2 wonderful friends who have helped me to process some of the stuff in my head.

This is, obviously, even more important to me as a single person. It's not that friendship isn't important when you're married - of course it is, and in fact, many of my closest friends are married. But as a single person I need to build community in a more intentional way. I need to make the effort to maintain friendships with people I don't live near to, and be prepared to travel to see them. I need to make the effort to host people for meals and parties and not simply bemoan that I don't get invited anywhere. (On that - I'm cooking Christmas dinner this year, for the first time ever - think of my poor friends...!)

Today I hosted a Christmas party that I've done ever since 2005 when I first moved to Liverpool (with one year off last year when I was on sabbatical). I invite my local friends and cook up an absolute storm. There's normally enough food for approx. 3.5 times as many people as are present. I love it - it's one of the highlights of my whole year. Today, in my home, old friends and new ones, adults and kids, gathered together to eat and drink and laugh, and I am grateful.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I think it takes a community to live a life as well. My life is the richer for my friends, who are family, community to me.

Here's a photo of the wonderful beLOVED cards I received, which started this whole reflection...

beLOVED ceremony pt 2

Last Saturday was my wonderful 'beLOVED ceremony' at Liverpool Cathedral. I've already blogged a bit of an explanation about it, and shared the opening words that I said on the day to set the scene. Now I want to share a bit more of how the service actually worked.

Basically this is just a service that I created myself (with advice from the rather wonderful Bishops of Liverpool and Sheffield). It seemed to fit me, and who I am, and what I was wanting to do. Obviously it wouldn't suit everyone!

This is how it looked:

• Welcome and opening prayer (Bishop Paul)
• Songs of worship (led by the uber talented Martin)
• Ten Thousand Reasons
• This I believe
• What a beautiful name
• My opening words (the ones I blogged the other day) 
• Confession
• Bible readings
• Song of Songs 6:1-3
• Philippians 4:4-9
• Luke 18:28-30
• Sermon (Bishop Pete) - this was all kinds of brilliant. Pete explored all the different occasions in the NT in which the word 'beloved' is used. Fab, fab, fab. He also used possibly my favourite phrase of the whole day, when he told me that I am 'chronically beloved'.
• Reflection - we listened to Wesley's 'Lead me Lord'
• Spoken word (written and performed by the entirely wonderful Miriam)
• Songs of worship
• Cornerstone
• Nothing but grace
• My vow of commitment (see below) 
• A response from my friends to the vow (basically a liturgical thing where the Bishop asked if they'd support me and they said WE WILL!)
• Prayers - firstly my 3 gorgeous Godchildren each read a prayer that they'd written for me, and then a number of my friends gathered round to lay hands on me and pray for me. It was really special.
• Sharing the Peace
• Holy Communion
• Song - How Great Thou Art
• Blessing (Bishop Paul)

It was SUCH a special service! My friend Phil said he cried "more than I did in Paddington 2"!! In fact someone asked me why I hadn't cried and I said it was because I'd outsourced it to everyone else! I did feel emotional but there was such an amazing sense of rightness to it all that was just lovely. Each of the different parts were so special, and it was amazing to be surrounded and supported by so many wonderful friends. That was probably the part that felt most overwhelming actually - the moments just before the service started, when I looked around and saw all those wonderful friends, and my mind boggled at the realisation that they were there just to support me, in my thing. Wow!

And so the vow. This was the hardest part of the whole service to write - that's probably not surprising. I wrote it myself, without reference to anything else, so it's certainly from the heart - but it was still hard to do. In fact I didn't write it until the Tuesday before the service, when I went away on a retreat day. There was so much that I wanted to say to God in that moment - here's what I went for:

Loving God, today I come before you in response to a calling on your part, and a choice on my part. I'm so grateful to you for the journey that you have brought me on.

Today I vow to live a life of dedicated singleness.

Today I give myself completely to you - wholeheartedly, unreservedly, single mindedly.

Today I know myself to be called and chosen and beloved.

Today I choose to walk into the path that you have laid out for me, wherever it may lead, embracing your best plan for me.

I vow to live a life of chastity and celibacy, to remain single, and without children, to dedicate myself fully to this life, and to embrace its sorrows and its joys, to seek to live always in a way which is generous and open and loving and kind and gracious.

I choose to set aside my desires for a husband and children, for sex and marriage. Instead I choose to embrace a life of wholeness - of joyful, beloved intimacy with Jesus.

I seek to live well within my friendships and relationships in a way that honours you and other people.

I trust my future completely to you. It isn't the future that I thought I would have. It isn't the future that I would once have hoped for. It is the future that I now joyfully choose and embrace.

I trust you, loving Lord, for all that lies ahead, both good and bad. I trust you for your love, your friendship, your forgiveness, your mercy, your comfort, your grace.

I trust you because you know me better than I know myself. I trust you with my pain and grief and sadness as well as with my expectation and excitement and joy.

Today, as your daughter, precious and loved, called and chosen, I vow to live always and only for you.

I thank you for calling me beloved.

So there it is - the words that I vowed to the Lord. Even writing them out again feels special and precious! I have framed a copy of them, signed by me and the Bishop.

After Bishop Paul received my vow, I received a ring (it's completely beautiful - it was my great grandma's engagement ring), and he anointed it with oil and blessed me. I started to wear a ring on my left hand ring finger 2 years ago when I began this process, so I'm wearing this new ring on the ring finger of my right hand - and still getting used to it.

5 days in, and it still all feels rather wonderful!

beLOVED ceremony pt 1

A little while ago now I blogged about my 'beLOVED ceremony'. Well, it happened! Yesterday, in the Lady Chapel at Liverpool Cathedral, around 100 very dear people gathered together for a really beautiful ceremony. It was exactly as I had hoped it would be! Such a joyful and special day. If you read the other blog you'll know what it was all about, but some people have been asking to know more about what happened, so I thought I'd share some of it here.

Below, then, I've copied the words that I said on the day near the beginning of the service, to explain what it's all about. It's therefore similar-ish to my last-but-one post but I thought it would give a flavour of what happened yesterday. More info will follow if you're interested, as I'll blog more about it in the days to come. This isn't the vow, this is just some background and explanation to it all.

So this is what I said:

Well, this is fun isn't it? I've been planning today for such a long time and I couldn't quite imagine what it would look like in reality, but here it is, and here you are, and it's wonderful.

The past few years have been quite a journey as I've thought and learnt and written and taught and prayed about singleness. It's Ian's fault, actually, for starting it all off... He's the one who asked me - what, probably almost 10 years ago now - whether I'd do a seminar at New Wine on singleness. I said no, obviously! The thing was I'd just never heard a talk on singleness that didn't leave everyone feeling considerably worse at the end than they had done at the beginning. I couldn't even envisage what a positive and helpful talk on singleness would look like.

But then I had a dream, and this really hardly ever happens to me, where I woke up, and I absolutely knew that God has spoken to me, and I ended up telling Ian I wanted to do not one but two seminars. And I began to explore what it looked like to live a God obsessed life in a marriage obsessed church and in a sex obsessed world.

I did those New Wine seminars, and then some more, and before I knew it I was being invited all over the country, and indeed all over the world, to speak about singleness. It's certainly an interesting and unexpected thing to have accidentally become a world expert in!

And while I definitely didn't see it coming, I am actually extremely grateful for it, and it's been an amazing privilege. It didn't take long for this subject to become a major passion of mine. I saw just how important it was. I saw how many people were really wrestling with this issue, trying to figure it out, trying to live well in the midst of it. I saw how, very sadly, church had often become a really hard place to be for single people.

It has been a joy to spend the best part of 10 years now journeying with this topic - academically, theologically, spiritually and personally. You simply wouldn't believe some of the conversations I've had with people, as they've dared to share with me their innermost struggles. I hope it's been, and continues, to be, a bit of a wake-up call for the church.

And of course in the midst of all that, I wrote a book. If Ian is to blame for the seminars, Kate is to blame for the book - why not, she said...?! And Graham, too, who helped me to find a publisher and didn't just laugh in my face.

I think though (naively, I now realise) that I thought I could keep all of this, to a degree, at arms' length. I mean obviously it was personal, and one of the things I decided right from the start was that I'd always try to be completely honest. There didn't seem to be any point in doing this and not being, and people seemed to value that. There may at times, of course, have been too much honesty - I don't think I have a fully functioning 'TMI' filter...

But I think I thought nonetheless that this was something which was 'out there'. I assumed that my own personal journey would be separate from the speaking and the writing.

But God, of course, had a different plan. He began, bit by bit, to show me what that was going to look like.

It came firstly as a sudden, unexpected, surprising but definite certainty that I wouldn't get married. I won't tell you the whole story again - I'm assuming you've read the book! If you haven't, I'll be more than willing to flog you a copy before you leave.

To be honest I still struggle to find exactly the right words to describe what happened. Was it a calling, or a choice, or just an understanding of the circumstances? I think it was sort of all three, in a way. Certainly I feel that this is God's best for me, the path he wants me to follow. And certainly I feel too that I did have a choice. I could have rejected it, and chosen a different path. But I wanted in this area, as I want in all areas of my life, to do what he wants me to do. To live his best for me.

So, for a while, I lived in that reality. I tried to find ways to articulate it when people asked me whether I still hoped to get married. I tried to blog about it in a funny way, and sometimes got accused of being bitter when people didn't get my sense of humour. I tried to figure out what it would mean for my future, and to seek to live well in the present.

And then, gradually this time, I became aware of a growing sense that God was asking me to 'go public' with this. I've got to tell you, it's a good job that he took a while to work up to this because if I'd known from that start that this is where it was going, I'd have run. Fast and far.

As I look back now it's amazing this even happened at all because I didn't even know this was a thing. I'd certainly never known anyone who'd done anything like it. And I'm incredibly grateful to those of you who were there from the start as I first began to imagine what it might look like. Thanks for helping me to work this all out.

And so 2 and a bit years ago I gathered with my closest friends and I made a bit of a vow and we all prayed together, and laughed and cried a bit. And I've spent the 2 years since then sort of sitting with it and seeing where it went. And this - this is where it went. This just feels so completely right.

If I'm honest, I still don't really understand why. Why me, why this, why now? I don't know. But I don't think it matters, really, because I'm certain that God does. He knows me better than I know myself, and if this is his best for me, as I think it is, then I'm all in, Maybe it'll just be this one off event between me and him. Maybe it'll be the start of a worldwide movement, as people do their own 'beLOVED' thing. Who knows?

Certainly I don't think this is right for all single people. But for some, for me, it is. And I'm really grateful for the clarity and the freedom of that.

If you're wondering about the name, I did wrestle for a long time over it. For quite some time I just referred to all this as The Thing. But then I was drawn again and again to Song of Songs, and I remembered a phrase I'd heard someone say in a talk - that "God calls you beloved, and he says Be Loved." So there it is.

Someone once said to me "it must be great to know you're called to singleness, so that it isn't painful any more." Ah. No. Sorry about that, but that isn't how it's gone down for me. The only wobbles over the past 2 years have been when I've been wrestling with this, and struggling, and thinking, "should it really be this hard?" But then I've remembered what it always looks like to follow the Jesus Way - the joy and the pain and the hope and the hardship and the grace all mixed up together. And I think that's ok. I think that's how it's meant to be, and how it always will be. I think I can be utterly certain that this is the way I'm meant to live, and still sometimes burst into tears at random moments because it flipping well hurts and I'm lonely and sad.

So anyway, thanks for being here today. Thanks for being on my team. Thanks for not thinking I'm bonkers for doing this - or if you do think that, for hiding it really well. I guess I'm going to need your help in the future to keep on this path, so please stick around. You're all lovely.

When I'm holding a baby...

When I wrote 'Single Minded' there was a bit in it called '10 things single people wish married people wouldn't say.' In my head it was funny. Heck I still think it's funny. I mean, they're true too, every one of them, and they've all been said to me multiple times and I wish they hadn't - but you have to laugh, don't you?! Even if it's just so you don't cry. Anyway the problem is sometimes when people have read that list they've failed to engage their sense of humour sensors, and accused me of being angry and bitter and mean. I start this post by saying that because all of the same caveats apply. This is a post about '10 things not to say to a childless person who's holding a baby.' Again, I've had them all, and I wish I hadn't, and they hurt. I hope after reading the list people might think again before saying them. But at the same time please recognise this post as an attempt at gentle humour (well, that mixed with rabid sarcasm) rather than angry bitterness...

So, here (in no particular order) is my list:

1. Where did you get that from?
Just found it lying around outside. You're allowed to just keep them when that happens, right?

2. You should have said!
I just thought it would be more fun to have a baby in secret and produce it one day with no warning. Thanks for the implicit suggestion that I look like I could have just given birth though.

3. That was quick.
Yeah, in the 3 days since I last saw you I've found a husband, got pregnant, and given birth. What can I say, I'm an over-achiever.

4. Nice to see you getting in some practice.
Yes, it's about time I learnt not to dangle babies upside down from their feet. [Incidentally when I was a little girl I had a favourite baby doll. I was once walking along with my dad and he was carrying the doll by her foot. An elderly lady stopped to tell him off because he wasn't taking proper care of his baby!]

5. That'll be you one day.
THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO WAY YOU CAN KNOW THAT TO BE TRUE SO PLEASE PLEASE STOP TALKING OR I MAY BE FORCED TO SCREAM AND SOB IN A HYSTERICAL AND HORMONAL MANNER.

6. You should have your own before it's too late.
Yep, cheers for that, I'll stick it on the to-do list.

7. Is that yours? [from someone who knew me well!]
Yes, I've been keeping her in the garage till now but I thought it was about time I let her have some daylight.

8. Does the Bishop know about that? [I promise someone once asked me this!]
Sssshhhhh - I have a secret miracle baby that I keep in the attic. Please don't give my secret away.

9. I bet you're glad you can give him back.
When there's poo, snot or sick involved - too right. Then I'm laughing. But when he giggles, or grins, or snuggles up or falls asleep on my shoulder - well, then my heart breaks a little bit.

And my personal favourite. I should have £1 for every time it's been said:
10. Ooh, that suits you.
Yep, I know. I've always hoped I'd make a freaking brilliant mum. I absolutely love babies. This moment is simultaneously beautifully sweet and completely heartbreaking. Thanks for reminding me.

So there we go. That's my list. And I know I said I was aiming for humour but it turns out some of them aren't all that funny.

The thing is, please don't hear me wrong. I don't want to make people scared to ever open their mouths around me, or others in my situation. And I'm definitely not suggesting it's not ok to talk to me about this subject. I'm very happy to talk about my life - the fact that I'm single, the fact that I adore children, and would love to have them, but that it hasn't happened - and now won't happen. It's not that I can't or won't talk about it.

I guess what I struggle with is the crass and unthinking comments which can be so hurtful. It sometimes seems as if people haven't even considered for a moment that I'm a 39 year old childless woman, and that when I'm holding a baby, there might be a few different emotions going on. I know my situation is unique to me, and I don't claim to speak for anyone else. I can't imagine what it feels like to try for a baby and be unable to conceive, or to lose a child. I know lots of people don't want kids of their own. And maybe some people would hear the comments above and not mind.

And fortunately I do generally manage a reasonably gracious response when they come. Mostly. Sometimes. You know, now and then...

The thing is, there's been a choice to make. There always is, isn't there, and it's never easy. The choice is how I'll live, how I'll respond. I want to always make the Jesus-y choice. I want to choose the way of love and grace and hope and joy. Often that choice will be painful. Sometimes it would be less painful to make a different choice.

But, because I love children, and because I love my friends, and because I believe it's what Jesus would do, I choose to engage with little ones whenever I can - at church, with friends, randomly on the bus. I choose to volunteer with Safe Families for Children because they're flipping awesome and they are seeking every day to make life better and safer for little ones.

I know, of course, that none of the sentences I've mentioned above were ever deliberately meant to be hurtful. If you've said them to me - I forgive you! And obviously there will have been times when I will have said stupid and crass things, in a whole range of different areas. I'm sorry for all those times I've caused pain. Maybe we can all just aim for a bit more empathy?

Here's a (careful and anonymous!) photo of the tiny person I'm currently looking after from time to time with Safe Families. She's a precious, wonderful joy.

beLOVED

Hmm. Where to start with this post?! Well, I guess the beginning is as good a place as any, so grab a drink and settle in. This could be a long one...

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while, or read my blog, or heard me speak on singleness, will know some of this story - so bear with...

8 years ago I first spoke about singleness, at the New Wine North summer event in Newark. Since then God has taken me on an incredible journey in this whole area, and I've been privileged to travel all over the UK and the world speaking on singleness, and also to have my book Single Minded published: https://wordery.com/single-minded-kate-wharton-9780857214300?cTrk=NjY5NjkzMTJ8NTllYTYxMDc3ZThiZToxOjI6NTllYTYwZmYzNTgxMzkuODU4MzUwMzg6MGM3MWY4NTE%3D

It has been a huge learning curve. It has been my privilege to meet many single people, and to hear their stories, and to share together with them some of the ups and downs of this journey. It has also been great to be invited to share with a number of churches and colleges, and to help them to think about how they can be places of genuine welcome and community.

Inevitably, and wonderfully, over that time God has also been speaking to me about my own life and walk with him. I have learnt SO MUCH about myself and about God! Some of that journey is explored in Chapter 7 of the book (incidentally, I always know whether or not someone is telling the truth about having read my book, since I share so personally in Chapter 7 - so if they don't know that part of my story, they haven't really read it!)

In that chapter I shared my belief that God was calling me to remain single, and that I had decided to make a choice to embrace that calling and live that way.

But since then, there's more...!

A couple of years ago I began to sense that God was calling me to do something to publicly mark that calling and decision. I had no idea how to do that, or if it was even a thing! I began to explore a bit, and discovered that there was a fact a way to do this, a community to join as someone who had chosen to remain single for life. The problem was that while that particular community may be a great choice for many people, it simply wasn't the right one for me. It didn't seem to reflect my personality, my story, my churchmanship, my journey.

After a bit of time spent praying and wondering and pondering, I went to talk to my Bishop, who fortunately is all sorts of wise. He said that if the existing way to do this wasn't right for me, then I should just make up my own way! So I did, with his help, and the help of my closest friends.

So it was that in Sept 2015 12 of us gathered together in the Bishop's chapel as I made what if I was becoming a nun (which I REALLY am not!) I might have called 'novitiate vows'. I made a vow, they prayed for me, we sang, we shared communion. It was wonderful.

And then I spent the next 2 years seeking God for what this might look like going forward. Had I really heard him right? Was this a bonkers idea born out of too much cheese one night - or was it really a calling from the Lord, a chance to serve him with my whole heart and soul in a new way, to explore a vcry particular vocation?

Well, 2 years has passed, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't the cheese. I've actually never wavered from my conviction that this calling is from the Lord. There have been times when I've felt awed by the hugeness of it all, and what it represents. And I suspect I will always get a bit teary from time to time around babies. I will always need my people - my closest friends, who are family to me, who 'get' me and are there for me through it all.

I'm incredibly grateful to God for this adventure we're on together. I have no idea where this will lead or what it will look like in 2 more years, or 5, or 10. But I do know that this is what I need to do, now, before God.

So it is that at the end of November I will gather in Liverpool Cathedral, with some friends and family, to make the equivalent of 'life vows'. I am writing the service myself, to express who I am, and what this journey has looked like for me. 

Some of you know this, as you have walked the journey with me. I am more grateful to you than I can express, most especially those of you who were there in Sept 2015. Some of you will be there to celebrate with me in November (I can't wait!). Some of you can't be there, and I will miss you.

It's a source of huge sadness to me that I can't invite all of you wonderful people out there. I am blessed with so many amazing friends, and I thank God for you all - but for you all to be there I'd need the whole Cathedral, not just the Lady Chapel! (Not to mention that I'd have to re-mortgage the vicarage to pay for the lunch).

So, if I haven't invited you, I'm sorry - I hope you will still pray for me as I step out into this new thing with God.

I hope that what I've written makes sense. Lots of people, when I've told them, have done a goldfish impression for a while and then said "gosh - I've never heard of that before!" Well no, neither had I!

I hope Alan Scott will forgive me for quoting a sentence that I heard him say at New Wine this summer - "Who knows what Jesus will do next? He's desperately kind and wonderfully good." Oh yes! I'm so excited for what lies ahead...

Oh, and in case you're wondering about the title of this post, well, it's the name I have decided to give to this whole 'thing' that I'm doing. (Good job, too - its working title among my friends was 'The Thing' for months!). It comes from a phrase I heard Anne Maclaurin say years ago - "God calls you beloved and he says be loved."

So my 'Thing' in November is called the beLOVED ceremony (with thanks to Laura Ferguson for her design skills).

Book review - Those who Wait (Tanya Marlow)

This is a wonderful book – it’s real, and honest, and challenging, and hopeful, and above all focused on Jesus. Tanya is a remarkable woman and she has written a remarkable book that will stimulate and encourage you, whatever your personal circumstances. Here is a common human experience, which we all go through one way or another – waiting – explored and discussed and meditated on. Tanya has had to endure many years of waiting, through a debilitating chronic illness. In this book she shares some of the lessons she has learnt, and is continuing to learn. Her love for Jesus shines out of every page. The book is imaginatively written, and will draw you in to its cleverly created narratives. There is wisdom and grace and humour and honesty throughout. Tanya has taken 4 well known biblical characters – Sarah, Isaiah, John the Baptist, and Mary the mother of Jesus – and brought their stories to life, helping us to imagine what the experience of waiting might have been like for them, and to understand what we can learn to help us through our own times of waiting. There are also theological notes to help those who wish to delve deeper into the text, and Bible study questions for those who want to study the book with others There are suggested creative exercises to inspire you and beautifully worded prayers to help you focus on the Lord. I couldn’t put this book down. The stories drew me in, the theological insights stirred me, and Tanya’s honesty and courage challenged me. I will definitely recommend this book to others I know who are struggling through times of waiting – everyone will be able to find something in it to strengthen and encourage them in their journey with the Lord.

Here's the link to the Wordery page where you can pre-order the book:

https://wordery.com/those-who-wait-tanya-marlow-9781910786864?cTrk=NjU1NzU3Mjh8NTlkYWEyZjhhZTZkNjoxOjI6NTlkYWEyZjNhMWUyZjAuODQwOTI0NzE6NDNkYjdhODQ%3D

I'm finding moving a bit moving...!

Well once again it has been a stupidly long time since I blogged. Sorry about that... Usual resolutions re blogging more often have been made. But don't hold your breath!

The thing that's occupying most of my brain space at the moment is that I'm about to move house! Aaaaaaaaargh, etc. Exactly 2 weeks from today all my worldly goods will be packed up in a van somewhere and I'll be on the cusp of the most mammoth box-unpacking gig imaginable. Well, not quite the most mammoth - my friend's just become a Bishop. Moving into a Bishop-pad involves some serious unpacking!

Anyway it's not just moving house that I'm thinking about - although goodness knows that's stressful enough in its own right, especially when it goes hand-in-hand with moving job/church too. I'm particularly thinking about moving house on your own. And, obviously, as someone who's single, I do an awful lot of things 'on my own'. That's not a complaint, at least not necessarily, but it is certainly an observation.

Because of all the usual work/life/time pressures, I've been trying to squeeze lots of jobs into a too-short time frame. As you do. Saturday afternoon saw me in a mad dash to get to the carpet shop before it closed (after being blocked into my garage by a wedding guest and then getting stuck in football traffic). Consequently I chose carpets for 4 of the new vicarage bedrooms in precisely 8 minutes. I was delighted to find they could fit them within the week. Then on Tuesday I went to buy a new sofa, and again made a surprisingly speedy choice - only to find it'll be 5 weeks before it's delivered. Oops. Apparently I need to have made that purchase a month ago.

The new church have been completely wonderful in helping me to get ready for the move. They have done a quite extraordinary amount of work, and have somehow managed to paint every single wall in the entire vicarage, and to clean it from top to bottom. I'm very grateful. So my reflections on doing a house move as a single person are not particularly about the practical aspects - although if they hadn't been so wonderfully kind and helpful then that would definitely have been a complication to add into the mix.

No, my reflections on it all have been more to do with the emotional side of things. To be honest I've been surprised at how emotional I have found it all. I didn't think I was all that house proud, or all that bothered about the material 'stuff' of life (and it's not long after setting foot in my house that you realise I'm definitely not all that bothered about keeping things clean and tidy!) But as I've pondered everything from paint colours to sofa fabrics to curtain lengths to carpet thicknesses to fridge freezer size I've just found it all a bit overwhelming. There have been So Many decisions to make!

Now, please don't misunderstand me. I realise this comes very firmly into the category of #FirstWorldProblems. Please don't hear me as being ungrateful - I absolutely realise and appreciate just how blessed I am to have a home to live in at all, and especially one so lovely. I am fortunate to be able to make these choices - I know that such choices are a luxury that many cannot afford.

However, my thoughts and reflections here are simply about how it has felt to do all of that stuff on my own. I have a couple of lovely friends who have kindly offered to come and look round with me, and offer advice. But they haven't been able to come yet, and won't now, I guess, until I've moved in. So all of the decisions have fallen to me. Those of you who have ever argued with a partner over a colour scheme or a piece of furniture may by now be yelling "lucky you - I'd love to have the final say on all things decor-related!" And yes, I'm sure there are massive advantages to not having to check with anyone else before deciding on an orange colour scheme for my new bedroom!

I'm really not moaning, I promise. But I am pondering. Pondering how it feels to have to make all of your major life choices alone (you know what I mean when I say alone - God is always my Guide, Advisor, Counsellor and Friend - but, humanly speaking, alone).

In one way, there's huge freedom in it, of course, and that's wonderful. But I realise I also have a fear of getting it wrong - that's mad, isn't it, because what does decorating your house 'wrong' even look like?! I feel like I'm not quite grown up (and that's also a mad thing to feel, when this is the last year my age will begin with a 3!). In the sofa shop the guy was trying to sell me extra cover in case things get spilt on it. He was talking about pets and husbands and children. I had to clamp my mouth closed to stop myself from confessing to not having any of those things (don't get me wrong, I have parishioners who can make a mess, and a penchant for chucking soup on myself - I could do with the insurance cover). I feel like I did as a kid trying to choose which sweets I wanted and it all just being ridiculously overwhelming and wishing someone would just hand me a packet, any packet. Standing in the carpet shop, and the sofa shop, and looking online at curtains, I just really would have liked there to be someone else there to say "what do you think about this one?" (And I know there are friends I could have asked to go with me, but sorry guys, I love you, but it's not the same!)

And gosh, this is all before I've got to the new place and have to work out where to put everything!! Aaaaaaaaargh, etc. all over again! My friend recently moved house and tweeted that she was picking up each ornament and wandering around the house whispering to it, asking it where it wanted to live. It might take a while, but in the absence of another human person to consult with, this is the approach I intend to adopt with all my belongings.

I know they say moving house is high up on the list of the most stressful things you can do. Moving jobs must be up there too, so vicars have a permanent stress-double-whammy going on when we move. Anyway, as so often when I blog, I feel like this is more of a journal-entry-reflection that I happen to have shared with the world (maybe that's all that blogging ever is?!) Thanks for reading, if you've got this far. Maybe share some of your moving house/decor decisions stories with me if you like?

Here's a photo of the new garden. It's beautiful, although I do fear it may never look this good again, as I am a genuinely terrible gardener...

Sabbatical highlights

Well, that's it! After a fantastic 4 months off, tomorrow I return to work. (I'm spending my first week at General Synod because I thought it would be a good idea to ease myself in gently. Ha!!).

I really had no idea what to expect before my sabbatical began. What would it feel like to have 4 months 'off'? Would I find myself feeling lonely, disconnected, bored? Would I want to come back after just a week or two away? Or, worse, would I not want to come back at all?! Would I find I'd forgotten how to truly rest and relax?

The idea of sabbatical is something we just don't come across in our society today. Almost without exception, when I told people outside of the church what I was doing, they said "wow, lucky you - I wish I could do that!" But no one ever had done, or realistically had any chance of ever doing so. I realise it is a very lovely gift which most clergy are able to enjoy, and I am grateful for it.

Sabbath is such an important biblical principle, stemming from God's resting after he had created the world. I'm grateful for my weekly sabbath, and also for this longer one, which I began 7.5 years into being an incumbent.

To be honest I'm still processing all that happened during my sabbatical, and I will probably be doing so for some time to come. I'm sure there will be many more blog posts about different aspects of it. I'm very much hoping that at some point a book will emerge too, but I didn't get as much written as I'd hoped. Oh well - there's no rush!

Here, then, follow (in no particular order, and still fairly unfiltered and unprocessed), some of the main highlights of the past 4 months.

* Simply, if it doesn't sound too mad, the gift of not rushing! This is something I simply must learn and carry with me as I go back. I am determined to not plunge immediately back into headless-chicken territory! I *will* remember to pause, and rest, and go to bed at a sensible hour.

* Not being in charge of anything. I am most definitely wired to be a leader, so I wouldn't want this long term, but for a while, it was great! I didn't have to make complicated decisions, I didn't have to make sure anything was running smoothly, no one was looking to me for answers!

* Loads of time to read. I loved this! I do read a lot anyway, but generally in fairly snatched chunks of time. So lots of uninterrupted time to read at leisure, and really absorb what I was reading, was great.

* Being able to simply worship on a Sunday morning. Now, of course, I hope to manage this most Sundays! But the honest truth is that it is often a bit complicated by leading, or preaching, or both. I have one eye on what's coming next, and who is doing what, and if everyone's OK. I worship too, of course, but it's different. And so to be able to concentrate simply on worshipping was a joy.

* I mainly worshipped at 2 very different churches - different from each other, and different from St. George's. While I was in the US I was most often at Desert Vineyard Church, which is the reason I had gone to the US at all. It's a very large church by UK standards, with a fabulous worship group, great teaching (much longer sermons than most Anglican churches!), and a significant ministry among the poor. While I was in the UK I was most often at Liverpool Cathedral. It has stunning choral music and inspiring teaching, and is a growing cathedral with an impressive ministry of outreach and discipleship. Being part of both churches, even for a short time, inspired and blessed me, and I'm grateful to them.

* Learning from others. I wanted to go to the US to spend some time with a leader I greatly admire. Unfortunately due to his being diagnosed with a serious illness just before I went, I couldn't spend as much time with him as I'd hoped. My plans had to change. But nothing is wasted with God. I did still spend some time with him, and even in that, I learnt. And because of the change of plans, I met lots of other amazing people. They were kind and generous and wise and fun and I learnt from all of them.

* Travelling. I LOVE to visit new places, and boy did I get to do that! New York, Alexandria, Washington DC, Lancaster, Palmdale, Santa Monica, Laguna Beach, San Francisco (and all points up the coast towards it!). It was so much fun to explore.

* Preaching. It was a total joy and privilege to preach at the Desert Vineyard. I know, as a leader, that it's a risk to invite someone else to preach in your church, and so I'm grateful for the invitation and the opportunity. It developed a good bit of stamina in me too - a 45 minute sermon repeated 3 times is not something I do every week! I absolutely loved it, and it certainly didn't feel like work.

* Urban mission and ministry. I wanted to go to Lancaster (California, not the north west of the UK!) because of the incredible way the church there loves and welcomes and ministers to and basically IS the poor, the broken, the vulnerable. This is my heartbeat, and it's theirs too. It is such a beautiful church. Serving in some of their compassion ministries was an absolute privilege, and I am awed by the way they love their neighbours. God re-broke my heart for what breaks his.

* Unexpected blessings. From the beautician who gave me the gift of a free manicure and pedicure, to an overnight stay in a beautiful beach house; from the numerous occasions I was treated to a meal out, to the friend who sent me a Christmas chocolate parcel; from the hospitality of all the people who let me stay in their homes, to being driven up the coast in a convertible for a yummy breakfast - time and time again I was overwhelmed by people's generosity and kindness.

* I love my friends! I'm so grateful to the people who kept in touch via text, Twitter, email, Facebook etc. Thank you for being interested in my over-sharing social media rambles! Thank you for missing me. 2 massive highlights of my whole sabbatical were the first time I saw my best friend's 3 kids and they literally leapt on me with joy, and the time I went to my friends' house for dinner on my return to the UK, only to have several other friends jump out from behind the door for a surprise party. I'm so blessed! One lovely friend came out to join me on an epic road trip. I saw 2 old school friends that I hadn't seen in donkey's years. And I made loads of new friends while I was away too, and they're also a wonderful gift.

* I love my church! Much as it was great to worship regularly in 2 other churches, and occasionally in a few more, I can't wait to be back with the wonderful, fabulous, gorgeous people of St. George's Everton! They are my family and I love them lots.

* I said in no particular order, but actually, this last one is the biggie. God used this sabbatical to do in me some things that really needed to be done! He gently showed me some things that I needed to sort out, and provided the people and the places and the opportunities I needed to do that. Ultimately, above all else, that's what this sabbatical has been about - foundational, heart stuff which will last forever. I'm so grateful to him for that.

That's quite enough rambling for now. On the eve of my return to 'real' life, I feel grateful and blessed. I'm excited to be back at work (that's a relief!). I have so many good memories. And I just may be beginning to plan my next sabbatical...

Living with a legacy in mind

It seems as if death has been very close lately, doesn't it? Of course we know that death is inevitable, that it comes to us all at some point, and that we don't tend to get much advance warning (which is probably for the best). But somehow, lately, it has felt even closer than normal.

We all know that in 2016 it felt as though more (and more famous) celebrities died than in previous years (I have no idea if this is statistically true, but it is certainly how it felt). In the last month or so I have known by reputation (although not personally) 4 well known and respected Christian leaders who have died in their 30s, 40s and 50s (so all, we would say 'too young'), and unexpectedly. I also have a number of good friends currently doing battle with serious illnesses of various kinds.

All of this makes us stop and think - or at least, I think it should do. The way it's been making me think is not about my own death, as such, but about my legacy. What will I leave behind? How will I be remembered?

Inevitably when someone dies, especially when they are relatively young, and it is unexpected, there is a huge public outpouring of grief and remembrance. This is entirely right and appropriate. We tell stories of that one time we met them, or of that thing they wrote that we read, or of that story we heard about them. We look for connection with them, because we feel affected.  We are reminded of our own mortality. We feel fragile, somehow.

And I've wondered, as I've read social media posts and obituaries and memories - what would people say about me? What would the stories that would be shared?

(This is definitely not an invitation to tell me!)

What it is, is a challenge to myself - and to you, if you would like to receive it as such - to reconsider how I live, and the impact I make on the world around me.

During the almost-twelve-years of my ordained life I have officiated at innumerable funeral services. I have sat with families as they have tried to describe to me their loved one - usually someone whom I have never met myself. There are certain phrases that clergy chuckle about among themselves for their 'hidden meaning' - phrases like "she didn't suffer fools gladly," and "he kept himself to himself," and "she knew her own mind." But I am sad when I sit with loved ones who don't have anything good to say about the deceased person, or perhaps not anything at all.

Whether we're famous or not, whether at our funeral we are mourned by 1, 10, 100 or 1000 people, we all leave some sort of imprint on the world in which we have lived.

I could write a list of some of the things I would hope people might say about me after I'm gone - and I could write a list of things I pray they wouldn't say!

And this isn't about me (or it shouldn't be, at least!). It isn't just about hoping everyone says nice warm fuzzy things about me and how I was a jolly good fellow. This is about living for the One whose approval is all that ultimately matters. I want my life to be a signpost to Jesus, so that when people see me, they see him. I know that so often I fail to do that, but I want to try.

I haven't given any thought at all to New Year's resolutions. I tend not to have a very high success rate. I've often thought about trying to lose weight, but I have a lot of sympathy with the post I read which said "at the start of 2016 it was my goal to lose 10 lb. Only 15 lb to go."

And yet as I've been writing this post the thought has occurred to me that a good aim for 2017 (not a resolution, mind, as I'd quite like to keep it!) - might be to spend some time thinking about the sort of legacy I want to leave behind.

How would I like people to speak about me, to describe me, to tell stories of me, after I'm gone? I can influence that now, by the way I live, how I treat people, what I do, what I say.

I'm going to try to live with a legacy in mind.