Spring

As I walked out of college with my friend at lunchtime on Friday I was stopped dead in my tracks. The street was quiet, there was no commotion and I was feeling fine. "The sun!" I exclaimed, "I can feel the sun on my face!" It was the most wonderful feeling, and the warmth radiated not just onto my face but into my soul. I love the feeling of well being that the sunshine brings and the knowledge that spring is trying to push its way into being. Winter seems long and dark, and although I have achieved an enormous amount this winter the promised arrival of spring is very welcome. The last few weeks of the winter have been a strange time. On Sunday February 1st it started snowing, and didn't stop until half way through Monday 2nd. James and I woke up to a world hidden under a duvet of snow, no car noise, no trains, no buses. The bright cold whiteness filled our house. We started off on a journey to the supermarket and ended up sledging and snowballing with our friends and building an 8ft snowman outside our church, who was named 'Trevor Mapsnow'. As we returned home that afternoon to defrost and try and get on with life it felt odd, and that oddness didn't go for over a week. I felt disrupted and displaced, and despite the fun and laughter that the snow brought, I felt very uncomfortable, out of sync. College ended up very topsy turvy and culminated in a morning that left me on the verge of tears. Later that week I received some sad news. It was not entirely unexpected news but my reaction to it, and the feelings it brought with it were. The situation left me confused, and I found myself feeling very uncomfortable with a sense of loss I had not anticipated. The situation felt very awkward, and the confusion felt dark and sad. Several things happened over the next few days and most importantly instead of trying to shoulder all my emotions I poured them out to God. I had a conversation with a close friend which was helpful, although did not give me answers. As that week wore on things started to change, and out of a difficult situation God started to do His work. He created opportunities, blessed conversations, and gave answers to those who needed them. After just ten days what had seemed like a hopeless situation was bringing new life, new opportunities and new hope. It feels like everything is going to be OK, and where God was seemingly absent He is evident and at work. I guess its a bit like Spring. In the depths of winter, when we feel like we have been cheated out of our fair share of sunlight, when the trees are dark and naked, when there are no flowers and people huddle up under hats and scarves, there feels like there is very little hope. On the darkest coldest days it is difficult to remember that this will end, that there will be sunshine again. And then when you have had enough, just when you are least expecting it the sun comes out, bulbs start to push their way through the barren soil, daffodils dare to flash their bright yellow petals for all to see. And as the warmth of the sun hits our faces we remember that there is hope, there will be warm sunny days again, and that God is always working, renewing and bringing light to our darkness.

Eulogy

I gave the Eulogy at my Grandma's Funeral this morning. You will recognise alot of it. People liked it. Lots of people commented on it. That and the fact I look like my Grandma. She was beautiful, I'm glad I look like her:

"My Grandma died last Monday and I've not yet shed a tear.
My Grandma was a woman of God, and last week He called her home to be restored to Glory with Him.
My Grandma had Alzheimer's disease. This meant that her true character and her soul have been fading for many years. This has been sad to see and experience. There was nothing any of us could do except feel frustrated and helpless. I am thankful that my uncle, my mother and my father spent time with her towards the end, just being with her.
My Grandma was a great woman, with a strength and grace that used to scare me until I eventually understood what it was. As a child I remember her as always being immaculately turned out, hair done, make-up on. She was sometimes stern but always compassionate and I was never in any doubt as to her love for me and my sister irksome as we were!
She had the most amazing experiences throughout her life, as a child in Ireland, a young woman coming to England, as a passenger on a boat torpedoed and sunk in the Irish Sea, in the East-end during the Blitz (although I can’t imagine her as an extra in Albert Square), as an army nurse in the Queen Alexandra’s Royal Army Nursing Corps, at the D-Day Landings – how many people can say that both their grandparents were there? as a wife to my grandfather Tony and a mother to my Uncle John and my mother Aeileish and finally as a grandmother to both me and my younger sister Alice.
Throughout her life she stood strong in her faith and worshipped with conviction and duty. When Alice and I were young we always came to church with her. We were both baptised in this very church. Around the age of nine I stopped coming to church. I remember the feeling of dread telling my Grandma. I’m not sure if she was cross but I have a feeling she kept praying for me.
I came back to faith at the age of 21 and my grandmother’s example has always been an inspiration to me.
As the Alzheimer's began to creep onward, stealing more and more of her essence I began to pray more to God for her. Not for healing but for her restoration.
When I was about six years old I stood in the kitchen of my Grandma's house as she prepared supper and said
"Grandma how long will you live?"
She looked at me, pinny on, tea towel in hand, and said:
"Well I might live long enough to see you married."
To a six-year-old girl, that seems like a long long time.
As I prepared for my wedding eighteen months ago I asked God to let her know that it was OK. I was getting married, and if that was what she had been waiting for, to keep her promise to me, then it was all OK she could go now.
A few months ago she had a fall and broke her hip. Her Alzheimer's made it difficult for the medical staff to communicate with her, they are unprepared and under trained. I prayed that she wouldn't be in too much pain and that God would give her peace and rest.
I hadn't thought about her for a few weeks until last Monday morning. Sitting at the bus stop thoughts of her came into my head and I prayed.I prayed that God would call her home soon. That He would restore her, that he would end her pain. As a caveat I said "Well maybe not before Christmas though, however your timing is perfect Lord. Your timing is perfect."
My Dad's phone call last Monday afternoon was not a surprise and I have felt an enormous sense of peace since. God's timing is perfect.
He put her on my heart and then He called her home and I am thankful that she is safe, healed and restored.
I have not shed many tears; my sadness is outweighed by my awe and wonder at the power of my God, my Grandma's God and our Saviour.
Your timing is perfect Lord.
As the words of my favourite worship song say
"Till he returns, or calls me Home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.""

Friendship

Wikipedia says that


"Friendship is a term used to denote co-operative and supportive behavior between two or more beings."


The Cambridge Advanced Learner's Dictionary says a friend is


"someone who is not an enemy and whom you can trust" and "a person whom you know well and whom you like a lot, but who is usually not a member of your family"


Once again it's Facebook that has got me thinking, and blogging about Friendship. On my Facebook I have all sorts of friends. there are people I was at Uni with, my mooses, my SSAGS friends, and some of the rugby girls. There are the Beccs Ladies. There are people on SCITT with me this year. There are lots of my church friends, and friends from Croydon. There are also a small number of friends I went to school with. They are my 'friends' because I share, or have shared some sort of an experience with them. I have met every single one of them in the flesh. There are some people on there I know much better than others. There are some I see and share time, food, and laughter with regularly. There are others who are further away geographically but whom I'm love dearly and Facebook allows me to keep in touch with them, their lives, their lows and their highs.

There are people who are my friends on Facebook, whom I have not spoken to face to face with for a long time. Lots of these are the people I went to school with. At school I had very few close friends, and my best friends came from my Venture Scout Unit. It was with them I had the most fun and formative years of my life. However looking back through my wedding photos I was a little saddened to see that there was not one person with whom I had shared my school days there, apart from my sister. On the other hand I have achieved so much since I left school, and even university. I have changed enormously as a person and I love the me I am now much better than the me I was at 18, or even 20. Does this mean that I should ditch or ignore those people who were part of the fabric of my past? Does it means that people I shared experiences with at that time, should no longer be considered 'friends'?

A few weeks ago the opportunity arose via Facebook Chat to 'talk' to someone who I have not had any real contact with for about 8 years. This person and I were friends at school, never best friends, but we shared experiences, and laughs together. 8 years ago this person helped me out when I was in quite a low place. Shortly after this I did something that hurt this person. I am not proud of my actions, my timing or my behaviour. A few months later I met James, and by the time that year was out God was in my life. Although I had made my peace with God for what I did, I had never fond the strength, courage or opportunity to apologise to this person, this friend. The virtual conversation we had on Facebook was not easy, pleasant or jovial. Some long hidden truths and anger came out. I was forced to face the consequences of my actions from a different phase of my life. I apologised. I have forgiven myself for what I did but asking for someone else's forgiveness, when it's 8 years late, is not fun and appears to be a very pathetic exercise. I am glad we had our conversation, for me it feels like I have shut a door that was still slightly ajar.

So does that mean that me and this person can continue being 'friends'? Have the last 8 years without contact destroyed this status between us? Or is it that by trying to shut a door, I have in fact opened it wider, leading to more pain and questioning? I now find myself somewhat under attack from this person. They do not understand my faith, or the journey I have been on in the last 8 years. Our lack of shared experience in this time seems to have destroyed the friendship we had before this time.

I like having friends. I like the variety they bring to life. I feel lucky to have gathered so many shared experiences during my life so far. It would be sad to lose one but if the rift is too deep, if our differences are greater than our similarities, if we cannot understand how each other has grown and changed then maybe we find ourselves sharing nothing more than the past and staring into a future without each other.

Hannah

Topsy Turvey

Well all things being equal we are moving on Saturday. We are due to complete tomorrow and we pray that all the money from the various places is at the right place at the right time and we will have our sticky little mitts on the keys to our first home by close of business.
This week has been exhausting. Physically and emotionally.
I am so very glad that I preceded it with a weekend at the Beehive, with good food, friends, chats, books, sleep and meandering. A weekend of real rest.
So since Sunday night we've been packing, and sorting, and binning, and shredding and recycling. The house is a tip. We've free cycled some furniture already so there's a gap where the rug and the coffee table used to be. We've found a home for our old dining table and the sofas in our new house that we don't want.
We've packed up most of the kitchen, including my much loved Emma Bridgewater Tea Set - must have some girlies round for afternoon tea soon!
We've nearly done the sitting room and the spare room.
We've made a dent in the bedroom.
But there is still loads to do.
In amongst all this I have had to have a Scout meeting with people from district, join the new gym, supervise Beavers, give first aid to a Beaver who ran into a wall blindfolded. (This was not part of the evening but risk assessing for Beavers is a very creative process), cook food to stick to my points.
Tonight I am going to my old Weight watchers class - I was at Beavers last night, I am seeing a chiropodist and then I am going to attack my bedroom. I am going to sort out and pack my wardrobes, clear out my make-up (my sister would cringe if she saw how old most of it is!), chuck paperwork and then I am going to collapse into bed.
By Saturday night that bed will be in my new home and I will collapse into it will my husband as we start the next new and exciting bit of our journey.
H x

The Great Escape

Last weekend James and I ran away! Ages ago, before Christmas we looked in our diaries and realised we needed to book a weekend away. Weekends get sucked up into life and before you know it it's Monday morning again. We are very good at giving our time to our friends, our church, our Scouts and very good at forgetting to give time to us.
So we booked the intriguingly named Windsor Room here: The Pearl Fisher in Whitstable and on Friday evening James picked me up from the station and we went on our adventure.
It was so lovely. We went out for dinner in a sweet little bistro, drank good wine, ate too much food and slept in until after nine. The breakfasts were superb. On Saturday morning James and I both had smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, which was cooked fresh at a time of our choosing and was placed in front of us with heart shaped toast after scrumptious cereal and fruit.
Saturday we mooched -round the harbour, and the little boutique shops. We ate seafood, and had tea and Lemon Curd cake overlooking the beach. We chatted, and walked. James skimmed stones. We had oysters. We watched the rugby :-(
We read the weekend papers on Saturday and Sunday :-)
On Sunday morning, instead of returning straight home we took a drive to the tip of Kent and spent an hour or so in Broadstairs, on the beach and promenade, and NOT playing crazy golf!
It was a lovely weekend and much needed us time. I love my husband and running away with him is so much fun. H x

Week One

Well after my first week back on Weight Watchers I am pleased to report a 1.5 lb loss. I feel good and back in control of my eating and not the other way around.
I am enjoying planning menus and eating good home cooked food.
So 7.5lb in 3 weeks. Hmmmmm.
I have had a slight downer this week though. I went to give blood on Tuesday night. I haven't given blood for 18 months due to sheer laziness and I was all ready to go. I feel healthy, hadn't taken any medication etc etc so it came to my finger prick test.
A drop of blood is supposed to sink in 15 seconds in the magic solution if it's Iron content is high enough. Mine sank in over 30. Not good. So the lovely nurse took blood out of my arm and put it on a machine that reads your Iron level. 120. Apparently between 120 and 140 is a good range for women, but to donate blood it had to be 125.
So I left, with a full arm of blood, feeling dejected and bought some vitamins the next day.
I now have to wait 4 months.
Man that's annoying!
H x

What am I supposed to do?

I went away to Carroty Wood this weekend, cooking with James, for Connexions youth group. 6 meals for thirty four people in the space of 43 hours. A challenge but not an impossible one. I am lighter in spirit than I was this time last year, and think that is as a result of a closer and more honest walk with God and with my husband.

I spent alot of time thinking about what God wants me to do. Not for a job, but what my gifts are, and how I should be showing His love.

This was partly borne out of the cooking! I enjoy cooking for people, and caring for people, making tea, and baking cakes. At the weekend I was glad that me cooking meant that everyone ate well, and that the other leaders had time to lead, and talk and take part. The more people said thank you, the more I thought about hospitality as a gift, and whether it is mine.

My thinking was extended by the very exciting news that James and I have had an offer accepted on a house. Yes we are about to buy our first home, as long as everything goes smoothly. It's lovely, and I will tell you more about it once we have exchanged contracts and I can call it 'Our New Home.' So I got to thinking about how I would like our home to be a place where people feel welcome, feel they can ring the bell and come in and have a cup of tea anytime without having to make a date to do so. I want our new home to be a place where our marriage grows, and strengthens, and where God can grow in us and strengthen us. Where people come for food regularly, and don't stand on ceremony but eat well, drink well and relax. I want it to be a home of love, between me and my husband, and between us and our community.

I am sure that God's hand is on this house already, after all he found it for us just at the right time, and He will see it through. As long as we let Him his hand will remain there and His love will grow there, and I will learn how to show it in the best way.

Hannah x

oh what a beautiful morning

Having read the instruction book and fixed the heating on Tuesday evening, after over 24 hours with no heat, waking up and venturing out of bed hasn't been too traumatic.

This morning was parky, and bleary eyed, after a poor night's sleep, I headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. The view outside was wonderful. The frozen white grass was covered in golden fallen leaves, set hard by the frost. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. It was beautiful.

An hour later wrapped up warm, with hat, gloves and scarf, James and I headed out to work. James had site visits to do and needed the car. Our little blue Peugeot was a shimmery white! Now I have to admit I have a child like glee in defrosting the car. It was something I used to help my Dad do when I was little! I don't know why, but this morning I was glad of the can of deicer that I am sure I renounced as 'Stupid to have in the car, this time of year' in July but never got round to removing.

As I kissed James goodbye at South Croydon station I bumped into Dan, a church friend and our new worship and music coordinator. It was great to chat to him. His passion for what he does, and his desire to run with God's plan is evident. It almost flashes in his eyes, and its exciting.

Praying on the bus from Clapham - wonderful sights over the common - I realised that I am sitting well within my comfort zone with God right now. Dipping my feet in the water but not getting too wet. My conversation with Dan made me uncomfortable, in a good way! He made me realise how lazy with and about God I have become and how things might be stirring for a change.

Hannah x

Potentially Life Changing

This week I took a step towards changing my life as I applied to study a PGCE in Primary Education. I have been prayerfully considering my future since June. One evening James and I sat down and went through all the things that my ideal job would have, and not have.
In September we had a 'quiet day' when we went to Ashdown Forest with a picnic, our bibles and our walking boots and spent the morning reading and praying and considering. I kept asking God what I should do. I am not sure he gave me an answer but I felt he was assuring me with the words 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.' I meditated over a psalm and felt that God was saying that I should try things out.
Teaching is a bit of a curve ball if I'm honest. All the people who I know who are teachers have always wanted to do it. At the moment I am fairly clear that I want to specialise in teaching children with special educational needs, and specifically autism. So I guess in that sense it's not so much of a curve ball, just a wonky path!
So I spent a week in a primary school, needing experience in order to apply. I was apprehensive but actually it was a great week where I realised that I could teach, even mainstream. I learnt about classroom structure and timetabling, about classroom assistants and differing abilities.
So I applied this week, after trying to convey why I want to teach, and how I am qualified to do a training course, in 47 lines. I can only apply to two institutions at this time so that's what I have done. Now its a waiting game. So I'll wait. And see.
H x

Carmen Jones

I went with James, Lucinda and Kim to see Carmen Jones at the refurbished Royal Festival Hall on Friday night. I booked tickets after a sunny evening on the Southbank created a desire to 'do more London'.

However the weather on Friday was not the balmy summer eve I had been envisaging. Despite this we ate Al Fresco at Giraffe, chatted and enjoyed the general atmosphere of one of London's trendiest areas.

The inside of the Royal Festival Hall is a bit like being in a rich old lady's house! It's smart but has a certain retro charm! We had seats three rows back which gave a rather upward view of some scenes and made us feel a bit intrusive in some of the more intimate ones!

Despite this it was a good performance and I enjoyed it. I am not an Opera fan so it was a rather off kilter move to book tickets for an Opera adaptation. Tsakane Valentine Maswangany played Carmen I was struck by her strength and stage presence despite her tiny frame. I think I could have put my hands round her waist.

She played the female anti hero well, and her sickly sucking up to Joe made my skin crawl. Hearing the orchestra was great and the tunes are well known. There were times when the intonation of the singers let them down and I had to struggle to hear what they were singing.

All in all a great evening in London Town xxx

100 days

James and I have been married for one hundred days today.
I have finally got my rings re sized so that they are not in danger of falling off. Almost all our presents have arrived, and most are in use! We've taken our wonderful family tree - a gift from both our fathers tracing our paternal family lines - in to the framers.
We've had a bit of a house clear out and tidy up and re-arrange.
We are settling into the daily pattern of being Mr and Mrs Gordon. It's great. Once a week we have time set aside for just us. We have used this time to go to a gallery, discover a new country pub, have dates at the cinema and just enjoy an evening at home with a good meal and no TV. I love this special time and when we have missed it I feel our relationship begin to sag. James was initially sceptical about this dedicated time but having given it go he agrees on its value and dates are in his diary!
People ask me whether things have changed since we got married, do I feel any different? The answer is perhaps a surprising yes. I feel grounded, anchored by the love of my soul mate. I feel calmer, like I have stepped into the shelter of someone who will always be there for me. I feel like James and I are a team, working together and for each other.
We are facing some big decisions about the future for both of us that would lead to potential career changes and financial pressures. As part of our decision making we are spending Sunday away from home, with our Bibles, talking to God and waiting on Him. I am looking forward to retreating for a short time, but then being able to talk things through with my husband.
Last night, as part of my new Bible reading plan - God's Story in 9 months (courtesy of Carla Harding) I read Genesis 1 & 2 aloud to James. We've decided to work through it together, taking it in turns to read to each other each night. I'm excited that I am going to journey through God's Story and even more excited that I have a travelling companion.
H x

Facebook

I have just de-activated my Facebook account. It's temporary but it needed doing. I am going Cold Turkey on it, a bit like giving up smoking the hard way.

There are lots of things I like about Facebook. There are lots of things I don't like about Facebook. I don't like how becoming 'friends' with someone is as easy as clicking the mouse. And then continuing to ignore them. Real friendship is hard work. There are ups and downs and hugs and laughs and tears.

In the flush of new Facebook love I 'became friends' with a lot of people who I had been at school with. I have arranged to meet up with one and I am looking forard to this, although I am nervous. We were at primary school together t0o! Like some cyber voyeur I looked at their profiles, where they are living now, their relationship status' and their photos. As I peered into their lives I was transported back ten years and the feelings of jealousy and competition grew. I didn't like that many people at school. The girl who had been my best friend for most of my school years left after GCSE's barely maintained contact with me and within 12 months had become a mother. During my sixth form years at the same school I suddenly had to try and make new friendships but by that stage everyone was sorted into their little groups. I had friends, people I spent time with and liked but no real best mate.

I had one very good friend, Milla, who you will recognise as my Bridesmaid and one real long time friend. We didn't go to school together and met through Guides. At seventeen we joined Venture Scouts and that's where the bulk of my friends came from in my truly formative years. At my wedding not one of the people there was someone I had been at school with (apart from my sister.) My friends were my Onnward VSU colleagues, the five mooses from uni and people James and I have come to know through our church. James had lots of friends from school at the wedding. But these people too have become my friends, as we live in his home town and many are still here.

I have friends. None of these are particularly deep or best friends, but they are important people in my life, and people with whom I am happy and glad to share things with. I am not a girlie girl, and letting people in is a challenge for me.

Facebook was like one big popularity contest. A giant playground. It is strangely and weirdly and nastily addictive. I know what is going on in people's lives without having to talk to them, without having to spend time with them. I can freely share with people my photos and comments and thoughts and everyone who is my friend can see all my other friends. The desire to log on to see if any of my 'friends' have updated anything or added anything is taking over my life. My restlessness and unhappiness with my own life situation drives me to peruse others lives and wish for more when I have been given SO much more than I need, and grace in abundance too.

What I should be doing is turning to God and to my husband, who is TRUELY my best friend on this earth, and talking to them, seeking their counsel and guidance. I should be soaking myself in God's word, and listening for Him speaking through the storm.

I have deactivated my Facebook account, and opened my Bible. I believe there will come a time when the two can exist in harmony in my life, but for now there is only one Book for me.

Hannah x

Train Trauma

I am usually quite an organised person, especially when it comes to my Travel Card. I am that smug person who whisks past the massive queue on the Tuesday after Bank Holiday laughing at everyone who forgot to renew their passes. I don't have a season ticket loan scheme at work and because I am not cash rich I have to buy my card on a monthly basis. If my card runs out midweek then I am good at renewing it at Brixton tube. If it runs out at the weekend I am not so good, leaving me annoyed and queueing on a Monday morn.

This Monday was one of those.

Monday is an early start meaning I have to be on the 7.18 train at South Croydon. I arrived at the station at 7.05 with plenty of time to join the two people at the ticket machine. I queued, chose my ticket and put in my card. Nothing. No error no nothing. I pulled my card from the machine and joined the by four people queuing at the window. The people moved slowly. The woman in front of me wanted a travel card and a car park pass. Two transactions for the price of one queue space. Not fair. The ding dongs of the train announcement went. It was my turn. I asked for my ticket, put my card in typed my pin. As the printer spat out my ticket the train started to pull in, and it printed my receipt I was half way through the door of the ticket office.

Card, wallet, tickets, hand bag and book bag in hand I sprinted, two and half inch wedges, down the stairs, through, the subway, up the stairs and towards the open train door. I took a running jump at the door and

SPLAT

I caught the toe of my shoe on the ledge of the door and literally flew head first into the carriage. Hands full my brain must have decided that twisting and falling on my shoulder was the best way. I am sure I heard people go 'ooooooooo' as I landed and one woman asked me if I was OK. OK? yes. Embarrassed? Definitely. I gingerly stood up and in true commuter style acted as if nothing had happened, despite the stinging in my right knee. I rearranged my trousers - damn I'm glad I wore good pants! Thankfully at East Croydon a seat became available and I spent the rest of the journey eyes closed in prayer. Please God let the ground swallow me up must have been in there.

Safely plonked on the bus at Clapham I inspected my knee to find true seven year old style playground grazes and the start of some lovely bruising. This has got slowly worse over the week with bruises on my right knee and sore muscles in my left shoulder.

If I learnt one thing from this incident its wear flat shoes on the day you forget to renew your season ticket - or just buy it earlier!

Hannah

Called Home

Well what roller coaster of emotions I've been through this last week or so.

Everything can't go in one blog post so to start with I wanted to write about Grandad's funeral last Tuesday 17th April.
I was mainly fine, and quite calm and peaceful. It was odd being in Granddad's house without him there.
The drive to the crematorium was fine, all 5 of us (Mum, Dad, Alice James and me) in one car. At the gates of the Crematorium we were met by a piper. Granddad was a drummer in the regimental pipe band, and having a piper at his funeral was one of his requests. As soon as I heard the music the tears came. It's funny how music can elicit emotions. I think it was a suitably grand exit for a man who was brave, strong and amazing but would never have told you so! The service was good, we had it in the chapel at the crematorium, and I read 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 which you can read HERE. James read Psalm 91, the Soldiers' Psalm and Alice read a poem.
Dad spoke about Granddad which was lovely. I like hearing the stories and the memories. I hope they will be part of the story of my life, and the stories my kids hear.
It was a sad day, and a sad time but throughout the day and the service a gentle sense of calmness surrounded me. God whispered gently in my ear, and wiped my tears away.
Death, funerals and endings are sad, but Granddad was ready to be called home, and as the words of one of my favourite songs says:
'' 'Til he returns, or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I'll stand."
And it is that thought that keeps me going.
H x

Sad

My granddad died last Sunday, April 1st. He was 87. I loved him very much and I am very sad that he has died. I'm sad that I won't be able to play him the MP3 of my wedding service, and that I won't be able to sit down with him and show him the photos of my wedding.
I'm sad because he was a great man, a brave man and a family man.
However I am really grateful that he' s not in pain anymore, and that his worn out body isn't needed because he has freedom in heaven. I'm really excited that he gets to see my Gran again who died in October 2004. I'm really glad that they both get to be at my wedding, watching over us all together from Heaven. I'm glad that there will be reminders of them both at the wedding: Dad's Cameron tie, and I'll wear Gran's engagement ring.
I'm sad because my family are sad, I'm sad because I won't get emails or text messages from him anymore. Yes my Grandfather was a silver surfer techno whizz and I'm so proud of that. I'm sad because funerals are sad (his is on 17th) and death is sad.
I happy that my Granddad lived for 87 long years, and until very recently he was well enough to take his caravan to Scotland. I'm happy that he and Gran used to have me and my sister to stay in the summer holidays and we used to go to Jolly Giant Toy Shop, and McDonald's drive through and take the Psycho Dog out on Cannock Chase (I wasn't sad when the dog died!). I'm happy that my Gran used to knit me clothes, including a ridiculous turquoise crop top that I REALLY wanted!
It's very odd having this juxta position of death and new beginnings and weddings. I had some very good news from a friend last week too to remind me of the circle of life. It reminds me that God is good, He is so in control. He is also loving and strong. Death reminds me of my fragility but also of my need to lean on God. I'm so glad that I know God and He knows me. I'm glad I can talk to Him and question Him.
I'm even happy that sometimes I don't get answers.
I'm glad that I can pray and God doesn't judge me. I'm happy that I can pray and God listens. I'm glad that I can pray and God doesn't mind if it doesn't make sense.
I'm happy that God knows my pain and has promised never to give me more than I can deal with.
I'm happy that James led me to God and that we can pray together.
I'm happy that one day I'll see Granddad again.
Hannah x

Amazing Grace

James and I went with our friends from MINT (the 18- 30ish group from church) to see Amazing Grace at the cinema. I don't really know what I was expecting, and I'm not usually a costume drama type of girl. I'd seen mixed reviews but went with an open mind.

I came away with a much clearer picture of the historical facts surrounding Wilberforce and his bill. It was a good portrayal of his friendship with William Pitt the Younger (played by the rather scrummy Benedict Cumberbatch) and his struggle with God and illness.

There were many good bits including a scene where Wilberforce is lying in the dewy grass one morning. He has a conversation with his butler about God. The butler says: 'You've found God sir?' and Wilberforce replies' Well it's more a case of He found me. Do you have any idea how inconvenient that is?' What a great line, and oh so true.

The final scene with Pipers outside Westminster Abbey gave me shivers down my spine.

I also came to the realisation that the big film vans outside Holy Trinity Clapham (that I go past on the bus daily) must have been for this film. Shame I didn't bump into Ioann Grufydd at all!

I came away from the cinema feeling more informed, and strangely encouraged. It wasn't a film about the horrors of slavery, and it didn't give a story from a slave's perspective but it was good to watch. H x

A picture of me

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I wasn't going to skank this from the several blogs I've seen it on but I like it, and it's broadly accurate. Have a go yourself if you want....

Cargo

On Saturday night James and I joined his parents and lots of other people at church for a preview of Cargo, Paul Field's new musical production looking at slavery. It tells the story of the end of the slave trade but then turns its attention to slavery today.
Stop the Traffik, an international charity focused on ending people trafficking, estimate that there are 12 million people in slavery today. A large proportion of these are children under 16.
I'm angry, and upset, and annoyed, and disturbed, and shaken.
Cargo was amazing. It wasn't fun or frivolous but it rocked me to my core, challenged me and nagged me. I spent a large proportion of the evening on the verge of tears, trying to comprehend the facts, trying to understand the feelings of the slaves, both of 200 hundred years ago and now. God was challenging me, nagging me to DO something.
It feels quite hopeless, and a strong sense of apathy creeps up on me, an apathy that infects too many of us today. I find myself asking the question 'What can I do?' 'What difference can I make?'
Well I'm going to try and find out. The worst offence I can commit is to do nothing.
The visual presentations that accompanies the music and spoken words of Cargo included this quote from the anthropologist Margaret Mead:
‘Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world’
Gosh. Now there's a challenge.
H x

Pink and Smiley News

You may remember I referred you to Emily Thackray's blog a while back HERE
I sat down in my lunch hour yesterday to sit and catch up with her blog, having not read it since last week and it contains the best news EVER.
On Thursday January 4th Emily went into theatre for her double lung transplant.
Her blog, currently being updated by friends and family, brought tears to my eyes. Sensitive as ever it reminds readers to think of the donor's family too at this difficult time.
Emily came through surgery well, and is starting to recover, with a few problems but nothing too major.
I can't really explain why the story of this young woman, who I have never met, nor am I likely to, affects me so strongly. I just want to thank God for his amazing work in this situation, and pray that Emily will recover well.
H x
You can keep up with Emily's Progress at http://www.pinkandsmiley.blogspot.com/

New Year New Challenges

I'm sorry it has taken nearly a week of 2007 for me to get to this post. There have several points this week when I have nearly put fingers to keyboard but for some reason I have just been unable to blog.
Christmas was great but hectic and I don't feel as rested as I would have liked. I had a stinking cold for the early part of it which was also not great. We saw lots of friends over Christmas, 15 people over for a 3 course sit down meal on the 23rd. 25 people stuffed into my sitting room playing Articulate on Christmas Eve. I feel that maybe God was using me to host, to open up my house and give. I'm glad we did it. We also had Doug (James' twin bro) to cat sit whilst we were in Worcester, and despite my initial worries it all turned out good, and the house didn't feel so empty when we got back.
New Year was fine - I dislike New Year. I think its a big load of hoo ha over nowt and i get an enormous sense of emptiness and disappointment at midnight. I ended up sleeping on my thermarest on a lounge floor. I don't want to do that again. I personally would like a quiet candle lit dinner for two, a good bottle of wine and bed. Maybe next year?
Work seemed to come back around all too quickly, and a deep sense of unease settled in my heart. My funding is VERY uncertain after the end of March and so I think I need a new job, this one makes me miserable. It has nothing to do with the people or the place I work but the systems that I have to work within. Alot of my work is dependent on other external people and organisations and they seem to be very good at ignoring me. I'll do anything pretty much! Well not quite. The worst thing is I feel totally useless at work. I like to feel like I am making a difference, like I am changing something but I do not have the motivation to be pro active. Days drag by and I feel like I could be doing so much more. I am applying for a job at Croydon Council because I hate commuting too! More on that as it happens.
2007 is of course going to be a massive year. Four months today I will walk down the aisle of Emmanuel and make vows before God, my friends and family and walk out as Mrs Gordon. Can't WAIT!!!
I'd also like 2007 to be a massive year for other reasons. I want a new job, where I can be content. I want to successfully complete my counselling certificate. I want to make plans with my husband to travel, or not but either way make some plans for the next couple of years. I want to end 2007 feeling more settled, and stronger than I do right now. Please God show me the way.
H x