What does compassion look like?

I've recently returned from a trip to Uganda with the charity Compassion. I've been wanting to blog about it almost since the day we arrived, but it's taken me until now to do so. Partly that's because life has been busy, but partly it's because I haven't yet fully managed to process and work through all of the stuff that we saw and encountered. I'm an extrovert and I process things by talking about them, and since I came home there hasn't been much chance to do that as life and church and advent have taken over! If I'm not careful though, the moment will pass - so here are a few random thoughts, that I'll probably be processing even as I'm writing. Bear with me!

The first thing to say is that Uganda turns out to be one of the most stunningly beautiful places you could ever imagine. I've travelled a lot, and I've been to some amazing places, but gosh, I loved Uganda! Especially Kisoro, where we stayed for a few days, in a beautiful hilltop guest house run by the Diocese of Muhabura (led by the Official Best Bishop in the World Ever). It was so lush and green and the views were breathtaking. I very much hope to visit again one day!

The trip was also a good one because it was with a fabulous bunch of people - 9 of us all involved in some way in church leadership and in New Wine, and 2 members of staff from Compassion UK. Some I already knew very well, some just a bit, and some not at all - but I laughed pretty much solidly for the whole 12 days, which simply in and of itself is very good for the soul!

And then there was the whole point of the trip! To see first hand the amazing work of Compassion. I've been a supporter of Compassion for quite a few years now. Since 2003 I've sponsored a little girl in India. She was 5 when I begun to sponsor her and when she was 13 I was fortunate enough to go out and visit her, and to see the project, visit her home and meet her family. It was a fabulous experience, and one that I'll never forget. Meeting her after 8 years of exchanging letters, and seeing her grow from a little girl into a teenager, was a joy. Sadly her family have since moved away and are outside of the project's area, but I have swapped to sponsor a 16 year old girl in the same project. On that trip I was accompanied by a friend, B, and we also then went to Thailand to visit the little girl she sponsors. We had a wonderful time in both places.

So, I thought I knew quite a bit about Compassion, and was pretty sold on what they do. However, this trip completely blew me away! What an incredibly impressive charity it is. Every staff member we met was completely in love with Jesus, utterly dedicated to their work, and totally passionate about transforming the lives of poor communities.

As I write I can tell that I have several essays within me on this topic!! I imagine there will be several more blogs to come... But for now I think the thing that I'm reflecting on is what 'compassion' actually means, and looks like (the actual word, that is, not the charity!). My dictionary defines it as "sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others". That's fine, isn't it, up to a point - but then what? I did feel pity and concern for the people I met in Uganda, of course I did - compared with my comfortable life here in the UK they had so little. There were heartbreaking stories to hear and homes to visit. There were times when I was moved to tears by what I was seeing and experiencing. That's as it should be - if I didn't feel like that there would be something wrong. 

But then what? Because my pity and concern don't help anyone. They don't help me. They either just make me feel awful that I have so much and they have so little, and I become almost paralysed at the fact that there's nothing I can do; or they make me feel numb - I have to switch off and not let it affect me because it's just too hard. They also don't help them. They don't need my pity. For one thing, that's because most of the people we met were joyful and lively and fun (especially those who knew Jesus). They praised and worshipped and enjoyed life in a way that would put many of our churches to shame! But for another thing, it's because they need my love, and my prayers, and my time, and my energy, and my money - not my pity.

One of my favourite songs is Hosanna, by Brooke Fraser. In it is the line "break my heart for what breaks yours" - this is my constant prayer to God in the areas of ministry for which he has given me a passion, among the lost and the broken and the marginalised. I want my heart to break when I see things which aren't right - when people are being treated unjustly, when people are starving, when people are being told they don't matter. And yet if all that happens is that my heart breaks, that's not enough. I need my heart to break just enough for me to be spurred to act, but not so much that I give up in despair. The line before that one in the song gives the answer, I think - "show me how to love like you have loved me". That has to be the key. If I can truly get my head around how God loves me, and if I am able as much as possible to copy that love, then that will be the thing that makes the difference.

That's why, while in Uganda, I decided to sponsor another child. Before we'd gone I'd thought about it and decided I couldn't afford it. Once we were in the project and meeting the children, I still couldn't afford it! But I also knew I had to do it. My heart broke just enough to make it happen. 

So for me, compassion looked like that breaking of my heart, in tune with God's heart, to do what I could to make a difference. And Compassion are doing that in a truly incredible way. I cannot speak highly enough of the way they work. 

But the rest will have to wait for another blog...!

For now, here's a photo of the gorgeous little person who stole my heart and who I've just started to sponsor.

Going solo

Tonight's been an interesting evening. I've been at Liverpool Cathedral, for my first ever live performance of Handel's Messiah. I've wanted to hear it for as long as I can remember, but for various reasons have never managed to do so until tonight. It was spectacular! It featured the combined choirs of the 2 Cathedrals, plus the Chamber Orchestra. I knew much of the music already, of course, but hearing it live was as wonderful as I'd hoped it would be - and what better place for my first time than our fabulous Cathedral, one of my favourite buildings in the world, and a venue with more than enough drama, attitude and acoustics to carry it off.

As well as enjoying the fabulous music and singing, I was doing a lot of reflecting this evening. For those of us who are single, the 'going to events on your own' dilemma is one which is never fully resolved. I imagine there are some super-confident and self-assured people who will cheerfully arrive at events by themselves, chat breezily all evening to perfect strangers, and then happily make their way home alone again afterwards. I don't, however, imagine there are many!

I also imagine there are some people who never go to events alone, and consequently, don't go to many events. They're nervous about arriving alone, having no one to talk to, feeling awkward, coming home alone again... It can feel very hard.

I've wanted to hear Messiah for a really long time. Last year, it was on at the Philharmonic. I was excited, and emailed lots of friends to see if they were interested in coming along. Some couldn't make it, some weren't interested, some took forever to reply! Eventually one friend said she'd like to come, and I set about booking tickets - but I'd left it too late, and it was sold out. This year, quite a while ago, I saw that it was going to be on at the Cathedral. Determined not to miss out again, I booked a ticket. Just one. I didn't even bother to invite friends! I wanted to go, and I was going to go!

Fast forward to today, and it's been a heck of a day (and a heck of a week!). I (still!) haven't finished preparing for the all age service tomorrow. I'm getting a cold (I think - although for most of the past week I've felt like I'm getting a cold and then I haven't). I had a flat tyre & had to spend far too much money on a new one. In some ways all I wanted to do was stay in. But I was excited about going to Messiah, and so I went. There was that familiar pang about going by myself - that sort of jollying along that you have to do to persuade yourself to get moving. Of course, it was a fabulous evening, and I'm more than glad that I went.

But. You see, it's not easy to do the going solo thing.

Don't get me wrong, there are great parts about it. I decided I wanted to go, I booked my ticket, and I went. I didn't have to check what anyone else wanted to do. There's something fun and freeing about being able to please myself on occasion. I chose when to arrive, where to sit, when to leave. I could chat to the people either side of me if I wanted to (with the exciting dual possibilities of meeting a lovely, fun new person - or being labelled a crazy, eccentric nutcase).

But there are also rubbish parts about it. I didn't have anyone to look forward to it with beforehand. I didn't have anyone to offer to drive and do the stressful last minute squeeze-in-a-tiny-space parking for me. I didn't have anyone to save me a seat while I went to the loo. I didn't have anyone to make small talk with and gossip about why the cassocks of the girls on the right were 5 times brighter than those of the girls on the left. I didn't have anyone to talk to in the interval so of course I messed about with my phone and pretended to be popular. I didn't have anyone to whisper to about how fabulous it all was. I didn't have anyone to debrief with afterwards (I know it was only a concert, but I'm an extrovert, I have to talk!). I didn't have anyone to drive home with. I didn't have anyone to make me a cup of tea when I got in.

Gosh that's a list of moans! Except, I don't mean them to be moans. They're just facts. Loads of you will understand them, if you're single yourself, or ever have been - or perhaps even if you're unhappily partnered. It is what it is, I realise that. Good bits and bad bits. Fun times and tough times. Life, basically!

This isn't a moan, or a rant, or a sympathy plea. It's just a reflection. My mind wandered to it as I drove home. I'd love to know if it resonates with you. Basically I'm writing a diary entry and sharing it with the world...!

I'm glad I went. Messiah was fabulous. An item on my bucket list is ticked off. And I got to come home and finish the box of chocolates a friend gave me the other day, with no one else fighting me for the orange creme - so it's not all bad!

Life to the full

Yesterday was a very exciting and very tiring day, as I was a guest on Clare Balding's Radio 2 Good Morning Sunday show, and then I was interviewed in very quick succession by 7 different local BBC radio stations. Lots of fun! I'm sure I'll say more about it another time...

At the end of the Radio 2 interview I was asked to give a short reflection. Lots of people have kindly commented on the interview and many have said that they enjoyed the reflection, so I've posted it below.

The strapline for my book is "Being single, whole and living life to the full."

In John's gospel Jesus says, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

I'm an extrovert, and an activist. I like the sound of a full life!

But what does the 'full life' that Jesus is talking about really look like, and how can we live a life that's full, in the best sense?

So often, I think, we're in danger of living life in the past or in the future. Now it's great to learn lessons from the past, and to look forward to the future, but we can't live there - we have to live life in the present.

Or, the other thing we sometimes do, is that we live in the present, but it isn't our present - we look at someone else's life and decide it looks better than our own.

We can be overwhelmed with regrets, or dreams, or envy, or disappointment. And the problem then is that we're not living a full life, but only half of one.

The apostle Paul wrote this to the church in Corinth - "Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life."

For me, that's what a full life looks like - my life, lived in the present, with God.

Beauty and graffiti

A few months ago we decided to establish a little 'community garden' across the road from church, on a patch of wasteland. It was mainly the idea of Rach, a fab member of our church, who heads up our work with young people. She approached the council, who own the land, and they agreed to let us use it, and even helped us out with resources, funding and workers. We worked with them, one of the local RSLs, and a nearby youth centre. A fabulous artist came and did sessions with the kids and young people producing 3 huge murals featuring all their favourite Liverpool landmarks. They were bolted to the wall, and a big flowerbed was sunk into the ground. The nursery class from our church school came over to do the planting. We had a launch event with local community groups and it was lots of fun. Seeing the garden every day makes me smile. It looks lovely, a ray of sunshine in the middle of a patch of derelict and deserted ground.

Or at least, it did look lovely - for a while. Because after only a few months, I went past one day to discover graffiti sprayed all over the murals. There were huge letters drawn in thick black paint. I couldn't see how it could be repaired, but Nicola, the amazing artist, came and worked her magic and it looked as good as new. Phew!

Until last week - when I drove past and suddenly realised I couldn't see the boards. When investigated I found that all 3 of them had been ripped off the wall. 2 were damaged 'just' from being ripped off - they had holes where the bolts had been (the bolts were still attached to the wall). The third was more badly damaged - it had 2 big tears across it, and large pieces knocked off at the corners. I gathered up all the small pieces although I doubt they'll be able to be repaired. The boards were too heavy to move, even when I gathered a couple of helpers, so we left them there and hoped for the best. We're currently waiting for someone to come and put them back up.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the past few days. I was absolutely devastated when I first saw what had happened. The boards looked such a mess, and as if that wasn't bad enough, they had also trampled all over the plants in the flowerbed. I can't understand why anyone would want to cause such damage and destruction in such a wanton way. I'm not naive, I know vandalism happens - a lot! - and I've experienced it many times when my car, house and church have all been damaged in various ways. For some reason, though, this seemed even more wantonly destructive than normal. Maybe it was the fact that all we'd been trying to do was make the local area look a bit nicer. Maybe it was the fact that it had been local kids who had done the painting themselves. It just made me so sad.

I started to wonder, if we found out who it was who had done the damage, and if we asked them why, and if we were able to genuinely have a conversation about it - about what was in their minds as they did it, and what they hoped to achieve - what would we discover? Would it be that they were "just bored"? Understandable in one way, I guess, in an area with few resources - and something we're trying to remedy by creating activities they can engage with. Or would we, I wondered, find out something more, something deeper, if it was even possible for it to be articulated?

You see, I wonder whether there's something about us not being able to cope with beauty, somehow. I wonder if in some way that's what sin is - turning away from God, and from his goodness, and from his right, perfect, beautiful way to live, because we simply can't handle it. There's something about us longing for beauty and truth and goodness, and yet suddenly turning around and randomly destroying a beautiful thing for no apparent reason. I feel like that's sometimes how I live and behave. I destroy beautiful things. I damage what is good. I vandalise what is holy.

God's way, and God's will, is about good not evil; about light not dark; about hope not fear; about beauty not ugliness. Paul puts it this way in his letter to the church in Philippi - "you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse."

I want to be someone who seeks out beauty in God's world, and who speaks and acts in a way which creates beauty, rather than destroying and damaging it. 

When I started out writing this post it was going to be about how it's hard to keep on going when obstacles come along, but it's turned into something completely different! Maybe I'll write that post another day...

This is how our lovely garden looked when it was first created. Recently the flowers looked gorgeous!

Loneliness... or solitude... or loneliness?!

I've been thinking a lot about loneliness lately. It's such a tricky thing isn't it?! Even beginning to write about it I'm aware that lots of people will have lots of views which may not be the same as what I'm about to write! But perhaps you'll permit me to just share some of my thoughts and ideas? Feel free to then share what you think too, but let's be gentle with one another!

I want to ponder on loneliness primarily from the point of view of the single person who lives alone. I realise that rules out a lot of you who might be reading this, and I'm sorry. But that's the category in which I find myself and so it's the thing I know most about.

As you read some of the following ponderings you might think they apply to you too. I realise it's possible for married people to feel lonely, and I'm sure all clergy people sometimes feel lonely.

But... with all those caveats, and appropriate disclaimers, here are some of the jumbled thoughts from where my brain is right now...

It's hard when you've had a really tough day to come home and have no one to share it with. That's a pretty obvious statement, and I don't claim to have come up with a new and revolutionary insight there, but hey, I say it like it is! I guess it's harder if you're an extreme extrovert, like me - I don't know what I think about something till I've talked about it and I can't process something till I've verbally downloaded it! So Sunday evenings can be tough, or getting in after evening meetings, with so much racing around my head. Sometimes I want someone to cry with, about the horrid thing someone said, or the stuff I tried that went wrong, or the sad situation I heard about. Sometimes I want someone to laugh with, about the hilarious and slightly inappropriate thing that happened which no one else noticed but I couldn't point out cos it was a bit naughty, or the cute thing one of the kids did, or the crazy bonkers mad thing that happened. Sometimes I just want someone to give me a hug and tell me I did ok. And yeah, I know, I can talk to Jesus, and that's great, and I really totally don't want it to sound like I'm dismissing that because I know what a joy and privilege that is and I love the freedom I have to do that whenever I want because I don't have other ties and commitments at home and when it's a joy it's a beautiful awesome incredible joy. But. Sometimes I just want there to be a human being there in front of me to talk to. And there isn't. And sometimes that sucks. And that is just how it is. And do you know what, that's OK, and Jesus understands that too.

I heard a lovely thing this week from a clergy colleague who's married. He told me that since reading my book he's realised afresh the challenges single clergy face, and he's offered to a friend to meet for a drink after PCCs or other late meetings, to download and debrief. How fantastic is that?! I love that my book has made him offer that. I love that his colleague now has someone to offload to.

Days off are tricky too. Sometimes I want to spend my day off all by myself, just vegging out and pottering and pleasing myself and having a lie in and watching telly in my pyjamas. But mostly I don't. Mostly I want to go somewhere and see someone and do something. But often I'm tired and I don't get round to planning it, or I'm worried that everyone else will already have plans, or I don't have the energy to travel miles to see friends. (Don't even get me started on holidays. I haven't the energy. That's a whole different post...)

At my best, times of 'aloneness' can become times of 'solitude' rather than 'loneliness'. They can become times which I share with Jesus, and which become intimate times of blessing and joy. But that takes energy and effort, and it's a choice that has to be made. It's a really important choice, and one which I often manage to make, and am always glad when I have. But just, sadly, not quite always...

One thing which I totally love in the battle against loneliness is social media! I love Facebook and I love Twitter, and I'm new to this blogging lark, but I'm growing to love it too! Some people mutter and moan about it and say we should just be present with the people we're with and that people share too much etc etc - but for me it's sometimes the difference between sanity and complete mental meltdown! I love that I can post a brief sentence about something that's just happened and get an instant response  - whether it's something funny or sad or crazy or cute, I can get lots of immediate and sympathetic replies and it's fab! I don't feel so lonely, and I'm connected with the world!

The other thing that helps a huge amount is fabulous friends, the ones who really get it. The ones who don't mind when I text at crazy o'clock cos I just want to talk to someone. The ones who notice when I'm not OK (someone texted tonight who made such a difference to how I felt - thank you!!!). The ones who remember something big that's happened for me and ask about it. The ones who let me externally process at nineteen to the dozen before I eventually remember politeness decrees I ought to ask how they're doing too! The ones who make fun day off plans with me. The ones who meet for a quick coffee so that a day which otherwise would have been spent alone involves some human contact! And the ones who have adorable small people who are available for hugs and comedy to cheer me up!

Loneliness can be a horrid, sad, painful thing. We all feel loneliness at some time in our lives. It feels a bit like this post has been more like a diary entry than a blog!! I'm OK, I'm just pondering... But hopefully if you're currently feeling lonely it'll reassure you that you're not alone. And if you're not, it will encourage you to reach out to someone who might be.

And as church, let's try, shall we, please, to commit ourselves to trying to eradicate loneliness - to making sure each and every person feels welcomed and loved and valued and included, and always has someone to talk to, someone to laugh, cry and pray with, and somewhere to go when they need to not be alone. Everything would just be so much better if we tried that.

The good, the bad and the ugly...

... that is, praise, criticism, and the random weird other stuff that's neither one thing nor the other. And, more specifically, what to do with it.

Here's the thing. The book came out in June, so obviously lots of people have now read it. And I'm hoping more will do so. Many have been kind enough to get in touch to let me know that they've enjoyed it/been moved by it/found it helpful/challenging/encouraging etc. That's truly wonderful. I have been really moved by some of the emails I've received. To know that something I've written has been helpful to someone else in their journey through life, and perhaps specifically in their walk with God - well, that's pretty amazing, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing about it!

Also, there have been some great reviews which have been published, which is also fantastic. There's one here - https://www.10ofthose.com/products/15243/SinglendashMinded/ and (so far) 3 here - http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0857214306/ref=s9_simh_gw_p14_d0_i1?pf_rd_m=A3P5ROKL5A1OLE&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=10269ADJ01WKJXZG0GWD&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=418448307&pf_rd_i=468294.
I'm so grateful to people who've taken the time to comment on what they have and haven't found helpful about the book. I know there's also a review in Woman Alive magazine this month, and one coming soon in Christianity magazine. Even writing those words sounds crazy in my head! I've read hundreds of book reviews in my time, and written a fair few myself, and yet now people are writing them about MY book. What's that all about?!

The problem is, how do I get my head around it all? Lots of the things which have been said about the book have been nice. Really nice. Flattering and kind and generous. What do I do with that? How far do I go saying "thank you" and "you're so kind" and "I'm just glad it was helpful" before it all goes to my head and I explode in a big ball of pride?! How do I take on that which it's truly helpful for me to hear, without being swayed and distracted by stuff that will just puff me up? And yet at the same time how do I avoid the "cheesy Christian" responses of "oh no, it wasn't me, I didn't do anything, it was all the Lord"?! Don't get me wrong - I really believe God encouraged me to write this book, and that he has worked and will work through it, but hey, I was the one who stayed up till 2am for a fortnight to get it finished ;-)

And how do I walk the fine line between promoting the book, which I must do out of fairness to the publisher (and my own bank balance!), and promoting myself? Even by posting those websites above I'm laying myself open to criticism of bigging myself up and boasting. But I want people to buy the book, so I need them to hear from other people who have enjoyed it and would recommend it!

But there's another problem too, isn't there, because fairly obviously not all of the comments have been good ones. I always knew this would be the case, of course I did. It was something I was quite concerned about, actually - how would I feel when people slated the book, either because they didn't agree theologically with something I'd written, or simply because they thought it wasn't a good book. Would I cope with nasty comments and criticisms? To be fair (so far!) there haven't been any negative reviews (or at least none that I've seen!). But there have been some negative comments on a post I wrote here - http://www.threadsuk.com/10-things-single-people-wish-married-people-wouldnt-say/.

Threads is a fantastic website and I was delighted to be invited to post there. I reproduced the list from the book on '10 things single people wish married people wouldn't say'. I hope the list is funny - that was the idea! It's a certain type of humour, I realise, and one which not everyone will understand or appreciate, but it was definitely meant to be funny rather than bitter or nasty. It wasn't meant to be mean to married people either, although obviously there's truth behind each of the statements (all of which have been said to me and to lots of single people I know!) - and obviously I hope that the end result might be that fewer crass comments are made and fewer people hurt!

It was brilliant to get such a good response to the article (in fact, this then happened - http://www.threadsuk.com/threadsis1/ - which was nothing short of crazy!). There were loads of good comments, and loads of people saying they identified with what I'd written, and that the same things had been said to them - quite enough, in fact, for me to be really glad that I'd written it and posted it. But of course, there were also quite a lot of negative comments - people who didn't 'get' what I was trying to say, or didn't agree, or simply didn't like it. And that's fine, of course it is, everyone's entitled to their opinion. But it was still very odd to read some quite critical comments about something which I'd written and which was really important to me.

I realise it could have been a lot worse (and I'm not so naïve that I don't realise it could very easily get a lot worse, at any moment!). There's been lots of publicity around recently about some of the truly awful abuse which people have been subjected to online. But for the moment, that's not what I'm thinking about. What I'm concerned with here is simply the weirdness of being wildly praised one minute, and harshly criticised the next, by people who don't know me, and don't know anything about me, and yet have a right to say what they're saying because I've chosen to put something of me 'out there' into the public sphere.

And so my question, again, is 'what do I do with this'? How do I hold all this stuff together, in a right tension? How do I take on that which is genuinely good and helpful for me to hear, but protect myself from the stuff which will either wrongly puff me up or wrongly bring me down? How do I make sure God gets the glory he deserves through it all? How do I guard my heart, in the midst of this incredibly private and personal thing which I have chosen to share with the world?

I don't know if I know the answer, or at least not completely...! But I do know, that like in all the best Sunday School jokes, the answer pretty much has to be Jesus. I'm doing it all for him. I made all the decisions I made, which I talk about in the book, because of him. I first spoke on this subject because of him. I wrote the book because of him. I live because of him. So when good stuff comes my way, or when bad stuff comes my way, I need to remember to take it all to him. He'll know what to do with it! He'll help me carry it. He'll show me which stuff to keep hold of and which to chuck away. He's cleverer at that than I am.

I think it's a lot about this, in the end, as Paul knew when he wrote to the Galatians - "Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ."

It's all about Him.

The book is launched!

So sorry to have gone quiet on here for almost 4 weeks! My excuse is that June was pretty much the busiest month of my life! But having now landed and being more or less back on track with life, I thought it was definitely time for another post.

On the 20th June 'Single Minded' was officially launched, in the fabulous surrounding of Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral. It was such a completely fabulous evening! A massive thank you to everyone from the Cathedral for letting me use such a great venue and for helping with the organisation; to everyone at Monarch for all their support; and to everyone who came along on the night. If you were there, I hope you had a great time too.

It was a very surreal evening in lots of ways. For most of the week leading up to it, and especially on the afternoon (probably to the great annoyance of everyone who was with me) I was absolutely terrified that no one was going to come. It just seemed incredible to me that people would come out just for me and my little book! (To be fair, they probably actually came out for the free wine, but never mind).

I'd never before been to a book launch so had very little idea of what was supposed to happen - fortunately, nice people told me what to do when! Basically it seems to involve a few speeches, quite a lot of wine, and then lots of chatting and mingling (for all the guests) and signing your name so many times that your wrist goes numb (for me).

As I said on the night, the Cathedral has really special memories for me, having been ordained deacon there in 2005 and priest in 2006. It's an awesome building, in the true sense of that word, and it fitted the occasion perfectly. It was a privilege to have the Dean, Pete there, as well as Jenny from Monarch, both of whom said nice things about the book, and of course it was lovely to also have chance myself to talk about why I wrote the book, what my hopes for it are, and to thank everyone for their support. So many great people came along, from so many different parts of my life, and some travelled quite a long way, which was lovely.

I spent a lot of the evening having that weird, slightly out-of-body sort of feeling, when you can't quite believe that you are where you are, doing what you're doing. How was this possible? How had I actually written a book?

I'm thrilled with the end-product of the book - I like the cover, the font, the layout. I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. But ultimately I hope that everyone who reads it finds God within, and that whoever they are, and whatever their reason for reading it, they hear him speak as they do so.

So, this is a rambling, musing sort of a post, and really it's just to say - yay! the book is here, and thanks! to everyone who's been part of getting to this point. If you've read the book, do let me know what you thought - feel free to comment on here, or to email me, or to post a comment on amazon. If you haven't yet read the book you can get it in all the usual places, or directly from me if you prefer - let me know if so.