Party of One - Book Review

I don't read all that many books on singleness, to be honest. I've always been pretty picky about them. I had to read a lot prior to writing one, for research, and there weren't many I loved. It's one of the main reasons why I wrote Single Minded, because there wasn't a book which said exactly what I wanted to read.

Party of One also doesn't say *exactly* what I wanted to read (but it's ok because I've already written a book that does!!). It is, however, really rather good.

Party of One is written by Joy Beth Smith, who's an American journalist. You can tell that, to be honest, because it's a really well written book, which keeps you turning the pages, and often has you laughing out loud. I also highlighted and underlined loads of it too, which is a sure sign of a book that I've really enjoyed (with apologies to all book purists - but if anyone did that to my book, I'd take it as a real compliment!)

Joy begins by describing how, for 15 years, she wrote a monthly letter to her future husband. (This is one of quite a number of points in the book where as a British reader there's a fairly major culture clash. I don't know anyone in the UK who's done this, and it's a reminder of how different both the church and the singleness scenes are in the UK and the US.) Anyway, one day she realises this is not a helpful strategy, and burns all of the letters. She says that she realised that "God has promised me many, many things: joy, intimacy with him, comfort, the presence of the Holy Spirit, and eternal life, to name just a few. But I'll never find the promise of a husband, of a beautiful, fulfilling marriage, tucked away in the back of James or even alluded to in Psalms."

This was the first paragraph in the book that I highlighted, and I was already hooked. It's so easy to believe marriage is somehow our 'right', something that we are owed, or deserve, but this is not the case.

Joy is brilliant at describing some of the difficulties that arise when 'helpful' friends try to intervene (and she oh-so-accurately points out how quickly people forget, having got married, what it's like to be single). She describes how people's constant attempts to 'pair off' all single people can lead to us feeling as if we're an embarrassment to have around - that instead of cheering us on in our singleness they just want to help us out of this unfortunate season.

One of the highlights of the book is the many in-depth conversations she has had with a great many single women. She travelled for these conversations, arranging round-table chats which led to a great deal of rich material, and she quotes the other women generously and at length. There is much wisdom shared from those chats.

There's just an awful lot of really helpful, clear truth in this book. She says that "God giving you a husband does not prove his goodness - marriage isn't even inherently good. But God is good, always. He is good in your singleness."

I cheered along as Joy lamented the waste which can so easily occur when single people live their life on hold, or treat their singleness like a waiting room - she uses the analogy of "an elevator ride" and declares this to be "a waste." "The problem with viewing singleness as a season is that we relegate our time here to something to be endured, not celebrated." YES!

Joy challenges the church's expectation of marriage in a way which is clear and timely without being grumpy (one might even suggest that the church is 'marriage obsessed' - that would make a good title for a chapter...) She challenges the common viewpoint that for single people life hasn't quite started yet, and says, with great perception, that "we've limited ourselves in what we choose to hono(u)r in the church."

She isn't afraid to tackle the big issues and the tough questions. She talks about loneliness, she talks about masturbation, she talks about childlessness, she talks about identity and self worth. I love her language of sexuality as something to be "stewarded" (rather than suppressed or avoided). I love how she tackles the 'gift' question.

There is a chapter called 'Don't spend your singleness preparing for marriage' (and I died a little inside at the 'spatula story') but nonetheless for me the book still felt like it was hoping for and heading for marriage. Perhaps it simply reflects where I am on my own journey (and perhaps this very thing would make it more appealing to some people) but I felt it might be of more interest to those still very much hoping and longing for marriage than for those who have embraced singleness for life. In the same vein I think it would be more for those who are 'never married but hoping to be' than for those who, for whatever reason, are 'single again'.

Overall I really would recommend this book (and believe me when I say that hardly ever happens with singleness books!) If you're reading it in the UK be prepared to do a bit of cross-cultural translation, and if you're not a young-ish 'single and hoping to be married' woman (I'm not sure how helpful guys would find it) be aware that it won't all resonate with you.

The thing I liked most (apart from how often it made me laugh out loud) was how much the whole book pointed to Jesus, and to living a holy live within and throughout our singleness. You can't ask for more than that.

Squelchy muddy walks and the God who laughs

On Monday I went on a quiet day. I am possibly the world's most extroverted extrovert, but I do love a quiet day! I have got into a pattern lately of visiting the wonderful St. Beuno's, in North Wales, about an hour away. I first went there during my sabbatical, for a 4 day silent retreat (stop laughing!), and it was so wonderful that I resolved to visit regularly. Usually on a quiet day I begin with a meeting with my spiritual director, Tim, who is all kinds of wise and holy. We chat for a while and then off I wander, to spend the rest of the day in quiet with God. There are lots of beautiful chapels and corners of the house to explore, and when the weather is good there are also lots of beautiful parts to the gardens, and further afield.

On Monday, we had been talking about life, and work, and busyness, and the need sometimes to simply stop and breathe. I had been relaying that struggle, so well known to all clergy and church workers, that it seemed as though I was spending all of my time praying and reading the Bible 'for work', and precious little time praying and reading the Bible 'for me'. I said that I was so looking forward to spending the day 'alone' with God - just the two of us. Tim asked me to imagine what I thought that might look like, and the image that came to mind was of me and God, arm in arm, wandering through the fields, chatting. It was positively idyllic, a scene of joyful peace and harmony.

Shall I tell you what actually happened?

I set off on my walk, full of the joys. Ah! Here at last was peace and harmony and tranquility. I followed my carefully printed instructions. I turned off the road into a field, and began my walk. It was at this moment that I realised it was very significantly more muddy than I had appreciated. I was wearing walking boots, thank goodness, but nonetheless the mud was fierce and soon my boots and my jeans were quite a sight. But no matter. I was walking with the Lord and all was well.

Then I soon realised that it was actually quite warm. I had dressed that morning for a baltic Liverpool vicarage barely free from the snowbound winter. I found myself in a glorious Welsh springtime. I was wearing *far* too many clothes. I couldn't complain though, because I have spent literally the past 6 months moaning about being cold, and I pride myself on never, ever uttering the words "it's too hot." I stripped off a layer or two and continued on my merry way.

Then I realised I was carrying far too much baggage. I had set off with a packed lunch, but also my Bible, 2 books to read, a notebook, my purse, my phone... Why was I carrying all this stuff? I was out for a walk with God, all I actually needed to do was walk, talk and listen (although ideally not in that order), but here I was, weighed down.

But never mind. I was here, I was walking, it was sunny. All good. And it was at this point that I realised I had not idea where I was going! The stile confidently predicted in my instructions did not materialise as expected. A few laps of the field, a few moments of concern, a partially hidden stile located - and I was off once more.

I approached the promised footbridge to discover a raging torrent of water, that if I had stepped in would have submerged my feet almost entirely. I gamely clambered onto the wooden gate at the side, which, it turned out, was only secured at one side, and half swung, half climbed, half leaped across (I know that's three halves). Phew. I'd made it, I hadn't got wet feet (or wet anything else), and I hadn't dropped anything in the water. Go me.

By this point I had a few choice comments to make about the 'easy walk' instruction sheet, but I was still doing ok. Here was I, here was God. Together, walking, talking.

At this point the instructions cheerfully assured me that there was "a gap in the fence just wide enough to squeeze through." I know I have hit the Easter eggs hard lately but I can absolutely assure you that there was no gap for squeezing. Instead I had to climb over a gate,

You might be wondering at this point whether I hadn't in fact gone completely the wrong way. Believe me, I wondered the same thing. But no, there were enough markers and landmarks for me to know that my Girl Guide skills had not failed me completely.

The edge of the next field was confusing. There was a gate, but no waymarker. By this point I was carefully following little yellow arrows. But there wasn't one. As I tried to convince myself that this must be the right gate in spite of the absence of said arrow, as there simply wasn't another way, and it was almost certainly not going to take me into a field containing a rampaging bull, I saw abandoned in a ditch further along, the wooden post, complete with yellow arrow. I strode on.

I then got to a crossing point that was so utterly mud soaked it might as well have been quicksand. There was no way over or around. As the old song goes, I just had to go through. Squelch, squelch, squelch. At this point I confess I became a tad irritated. My shoes would surely be ruined, if indeed I didn't lose them altogether. This was ridiculous. I had anticipated a lovely walk, this was more like an endurance test.

And it was at that point, I swear to you, I realised God was laughing. He wasn't just smiling politely or grinning to himself. He was slapping his thighs and gasping for air. I was thinking "it would be so rubbish if I slipped in this mud." God was thinking "it would be totally hilarious if you slipped in this mud." I began to laugh. It's really a good job no one was around. I just felt like God was saying "so you wanted to spend the day with me, with no distractions, and for us to enjoy each other's company, and for it to be fun and easy - tick!" It would have been a hilarious day to have spent with a friend - God reminded me that's exactly what it had been. I'm sure you can draw the dots on all the other spiritual lessons God managed to teach me during the day.

In the last part of the walk I went through a field of sheep. Sheep are daft, friendly, fluffy, cuddly little things, right? Right? I swear one of them was giving me the full on evils, staring me down, baaing in a decidedly unfriendly manner. It was at this point that I told God very firmly that, ok, it had in fact been a very nice day, and a fun walk after all - but I DID NOT need a sermon illustration ending of a sheep chasing me down a field. Fortunately all was well. I got back to St. Beuno's, collapsed on a bench, chuckled a lot, and wrote up some of the above nonsense in my journal.

It was a very good day. God and I enjoyed it together.

(And I absolutely swear that none of the above is made up! Slightly exaggerated for comedic effect, perhaps, but not made up...)

Here are some photos to prove it...

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.