Thursday, April 23, 2015

Entertaining untruths.

Do not invite an impostor to your tea party,
Be sure to never ask the impostor in,
Recognise the darkness beneath his disguise,
My darling, don't invite the impostor in.
 
Do not invite an impostor to your tea party,
Though you can be sure one will come knocking at your door,
Don't prepare your finest china for him,
My darling, don't invite the impostor in.
 
Do not invite an impostor to your tea party,
An impostor shouldn't be allowed to come among your guests,
His voice may be familiar but his words are lies,
My darling, don't invite the impostor in.
 
"Do not invite an impostor to your tea party,"
words that came to me today and brought life. I was entertaining thoughts that I knew to be untrue and yet like in the poem I had brought out my finest china and allowed the voice to stay so that I could listen to the lies. God reminded me that life is an event full of people I love; a scene of merriment that must be protected. And declining an impostor is far easier at the front door than once he has made himself at home in your living room.
 
It is a discipline to recognise and reject the impostor. But the tea party is worth protecting.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

The Mosquito-Bitten Bride; figuring out whether mission and engagement can go together.

With David working full time and my final semseter of University, a wedding to plan and a new season of marriage to prepare for, life is full to the point of overflowing. So it may be unsuprising that our excited chatter about our Exodus team to India has been met with the occasional exclamation of, "are yous crazy?!" It is with this in mind that I have attempted to write a breakdown of our thinking as we embark on this journey to soon be followed up with an 'Introduction to Team 9', coming soon.

My first thought is perhaps best reflected by an article I read lamenting a pattern of Christians getting married and then their ministry 'going quiet'.  Reading this reminded me of my motivation to be vulnerable through ministry during all seasons of life.  I could sympathise with the period of "settling in" that the article described having experienced how life gets almost frantic as soon as marriage enters the equation; new financial responsibilities, finding a home, new jobs, new routines, investing in this new season of relationship. The same goes for engagement.  Almost before the announcement has left your mouth there is an excited bombardment of questions about dates, venues, colours, bridesmaid dresses.. the list goes on.  But at the same time I was unsettled by the outcome of this; couples stepping back from ministry and the resulting air of mystery surrounding newlyweds and engaged couples; where are they? How do they interact with each other? Should wedding planning look different for Christians? Are married people really always happy and satisfied?

Exodus (the organisation we will be working under) believes passionately in discipleship and the weekly meetings leading up to our trip allow us to share our lives with a group of young people and build up the trust to enter theirs. This year I have been deeply challenged by the example found in 1 Thessalonians, "we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us."

My second motivation is the perspective that this ministry can provide.  Knowing we will be experiencing an Orphanage in India the month before our wedding has been instrumental in challenging the choices we make. Again, coming to terms with the possibility of mosquito bites and a really bad farmers tan to compliment my wedding dress has introduced a healthy (and much more realistic) perspective that flies in the face of any pressure to be a completely perfect bride.

And finally, we are simply excited about mission! Beyond our wedding, we are giddily excited about the marriage ahead and the resources God has provided us with in each other.  As we actively seek out the ministry God has in store for us we are inclined towards mission and travel and seeking out God's plan for us.  India is an opportunity for us to push more doors as we try to discern the burdens that God has put on our hearts.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

The Valley of Dry Bones.

Ezekiel writes about a time when the Spirit of the Lord set him down in a valley full of bones, "behold," he says, "they were very dry". It is into this eerie picture that the Spirit asks Ezekiel, 
"can these bones live?"
The Spirit instructed Ezekiel to speak the word of the Lord over the bones for the Lord has said He will cover them with flesh and skin; then He will breathe life into them and they shall know him as Lord.

As Ezekiel prophesied these words the dry bones came together with a great rattling and were covered with flesh and skin.  But there was no breath in them. Again, picture the eerie scene of a valley filled with bones that have formed bodies yet have no breath; no life source.

So the Spirit speaks to Ezekiel again and tells him to speak to the breath and tell it to come from the four winds.  Breath came and the once dry bones lived and stood on their feet forming a great army.

The spirit explains to Ezekiel that the bones are a people who have cried out "Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are indeed cut off."  But God promises them, "I shall put my spirit within you and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land.  Then you shall know that I am the Lord."

In the telling of this vision I find clarity of where the Spirit has taken me recently. It has seemed again and again I have found myself set down in a valley looking at dry bones.  The dry bones of injustice, sexism, broken relationships, academic, apathy, people's alienation from God have covered my path.  The feeling of other people being in the valley alongside me but stepping over the dry bones as if they don't see them has left me wanting to scream at the valleys very walls. If hope is lost, we are indeed cut off. 

But the walls of the valley swallow my screams and echo back the question of the Spirit,

 "can these bones live?"

And the answer is that they can.  The driest of bones can find life and knowledge of their maker; from the coldest of situations the Lord can rise his army. Verse 14 finishes the vision, "I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the Lord."

(Ezekiel 37)

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Moving and the wilderness.

I've discovered over the past couple of weeks that moving is unsettling.  Sorting. Packing. Cleaning. Heavy lifting. Then a rushed goodbye to my first rented house and the close of a glorious season of living with one of my favourite people. Life has moved on and we must go with it. Lucy is off to Dublin so I have moved back to college to a flat of 5 girls. As the first to move in I arrived to the quiet. 

College is usually fun and joyous with the buzz of community, but before everybody arrives its somewhat dingy.  I found myself with the task of moving a house of stuff into a single bedroom and a tiny shared kitchen.  And I found myself feeling alone. 

Returning to college I can't help but reflect back two years to when I was new at college and though happy to arrive, by November I had found myself in the wilderness.  Alone and far from home I turned my face to seek the Lord and then I clung to the intimacy I found with Him there.  His words broke through;

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, 
and bring her into the wilderness,
and speak tenderly to her.
Two years on I have found a home in Northern Ireland, this college and the people I love here.  I have routine and purpose, favourite places and a ministry.  But again I was allured into the wilderness to discover it still cold on my bones, lonely in my thoughts and a dampener of my laughter.  Again in this place I hear the tender speech of my God;

And there I will give her her vineyards 
and make the valley of Trouble a door of hope.  
And there shall she answer as in the days of her youth." (Hosea 2:14)

Humbled, quietened and in awe; the Lord restores me as one redeemed.  I find a door of hope at the beginning of a new season, new faces, new rhythms, unchanging grace.  I pray over this flat and those to whom it will be home this year, I pray over my influence and most of all I pray that the Spirit of God would enter and dwell here.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Simple truths for simple minds.

He is my Father.  He loves me.  He is for me.  He wants to shower His blessings upon me.

These are truths that get lost in the business of my brain.  They are overlooked when I am busy saying sorry; busy trying to make up for my imperfections; busy trying to seek out His will.

Busyness and worry shrink my mind; shrink my thoughts of my God.

So He tells me;

I am your Father.  I love you.  I am for you.  I want to shower my blessings upon you.

Simple truths with huge implications. Life in its fullness is bigger than I could imagine and offers me an abundance of His joy.

Tonight when I tell Him I love Him... I let it be a confident "I love you too"... because He loved us first; this I am convinced of.

Friday, August 8, 2014

He knows and He weeps.

Last night I listened to the news reports of rape and murder of Christians in Iraq. I dared to ask God questions worn out from passioned use throughout the years of our sin shattered world.  I demanded to know;

"Do you know about this?!?"

Then I told God;

"It’s too much."

As soon as my thoughts formed their petition, they echoed around the Throne Room of God and returned to me amplified that I might rediscover my reverence and find my fear once more.  Instantly I knew the answer to my questions because I know love that goes far beyond the capacity of mine causes God’s heart to break beyond what I can imagine.

And yet in His patience He communicates to my lack of understanding again today.  As I open my window to listen to the downpour of Belfast rain;

Hear the rain as it beats to the ground
It is not peaceful; it is angry;
I weep.

See the wind sweep leaves from the trees;
It is not seasons; it is grief;
I weep.

Read the news reports from your phone;
It is not information; it is tragedy;
I weep.

Hear of the deaths and persecution;
It is not purification; it is oppression;
I weep.


And as the rain gets heavier, I hear the tone in my Father’s voice; He knows.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Reflections of Team 10’s Romania trip PART ONE: what we actually did...

After several short term trips and a gap year, I still haven't figured out how to come home from missions.  The movement from going to bed each night exhausted from a day pushing your comfort zones and doing the Lord's work to unpacking, grocery shopping and sleeping late never makes complete sense to me.  And yet each time I adjust back to everyday life only with a slightly wider perspective and hopefully a more tender heart.

Romania has been no different, my head and heart have been impacted by places, people, responsibility and emotions.  This trip was a first for me as I experienced leadership like never before, and a first for David and I as a couple by marking the beginning of a journey of ministry together.

In an attempt to write down our experiences I will begin with explaining how we actually spent our 12 days:

We flew from Dublin to Budapest (Hungary) then travelled by bus to the Exodus center in Sutor Romania where we slept for what was left of the night.  We then received two sessions of placement training before we entered 'Bush Camp'.   The idea of Bush Camp is that all ‘luxuries’  are temporarily stripped away for 48 hours of experiencing living in poverty.  On arrival we could bring only the shorts and T-shirt we were wearing, a hoody and a pair of long trousers (also suncream, our tooth brush and tooth paste).  That's no clean undies, no deoderant, no soap.... all of which were considered ‘luxury’ items.

For our first activity we were assigned a patch of land and two ground sheets then built our shelter for the two nights from the stack of wood and limited rope available. The experience continued with several other poverty simulations such as hiking to get firewood, doing blindfolded activities to highlight blindness as a poverty issue and making paper bags with flour and water to try and pay rent to slumlords in a simulation of an Indian slum.  Meals were frugal and evenings were spent round the campfire. 

 Some enjoyed bush camp more than others, but certainly all our team missed it when it was over.  Personally, I loved it, nonetheless I was still overly excited when it was time to be reunited with a proper toilet and shower. Its fair to say at least one aspect of the poverty experienced impacted each individual bush camper.  Though our time was just a small glimpse into the every day reality of others; it was effective in gaining a better grasp of the hardships and in beginning to understand the cyclic nature of poverty.


After scrubbing off the layers of dirt we were eager to get started at our host church.  We were staying in fantastic accommodation as part of a Reformed Church in a small village called Kornesti. Our schedule began on our first morning with the start of our children’s club where we taught the story of Daniel using games, songs, a memory verse, main story, snacks, craft and quiz. Our team of young people ran the kids club and we assigned them a different responsibility each day (mostly prepared in advance); stretching themselves by learning and delivering talks, embarrassing themselves in the kids songs and quizes and completely exceeding our expectations of them as they communicated love to the children and developed initiative in the preparations.

Afternoons were divided between practical work around where we were staying and home visits in the local village. Home visits consisted of taking a food parcel to visit (usually) a widow in the village and chat with her through the translator, find out about her life, then read some verses from the bible and pray together.  I had done something similar several times on my gap year but other than that, this was something completely new to the team who were all individually impacted by the stories they heard, homes they visited and emotions these visits involved.

We would return from these ministries to a welcomed meal cooked by our hosts then we went straight into a time spent with the youth.  Working with the Romanian youth was a huge learning experience for the team as they had to  adapt a slightly awkward first night into an engaging programme through rethinking and giving it over into the Lord's hands.  These times became really valuable as the team shared testimonies, we played crazy games, had a movie night, bonfire and an Irish night; complete with Irish food, decorations and dances.


Of course we did lots of other things outside of our schedule such as David preaching in the Sunday morning service, and the team taking part of the afternoon service.  We also had a day off where we could play tourist and visit a salt mine, do a high ropes course, swim in a salt lake and explore the nearest city in the evening.  But this is a taster of what our ministry looked like out there, to be followed soon with further reflections.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Strength vs Weakness: daily tensions.

I've spent a lot of prayers the last little while wishing that I was stronger.

Wishing I was stronger when...

I'm running late to something I vowed to myself I'd be on time for.

When the thought of doing laundry or the dishes makes me roll back over in bed instead of getting up.

When busses and trains make me anxious though I've travelled a thousand times before.

When I cry countless times because I'm insecure or feeling out of depth.

When I hide because that day my body is my enemy and I'm scared to spark a battle.

When public speaking leaves me irritable and fearing I have nothing to offer.

When criticism can't be constructive because I've redirected it to speak to the very core of who I am.

When I'm feeling foolish for crying after a phone call about yet another system that makes no sense to me.

If only I could be stronger, if only I could cry less.  If only I could learn my lessons faster and be less of a burden.  If at last I was stronger, then I could be of more use to you, Lord.

"No."

He says time and time again.

Are you listening?

"My power is made perfect in weakness."

Lucy, are you listening?

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Hangry.

A new word got added to the Collins dictionary on 04/09/12.  That word is ‘hangry’: the irrational irritation one gets when he or she is hungry.  Not everybody succumbs to this irrational state; but it turns out, I do.

Watching people eat burgers and sausages at the graduation BBQ the last night was just about too much.  Then today I got distracted cleaning and ended up waiting too long for lunch. My skin has broken out (which though may be unrelated, I’m blaming on lack of fruit and veg).  I want a cup of TEA.

All of a sudden the ugly traits of hanger were upon me.  I was irritated. I was hungry. I was angry.

And it was IRRATIONAL.  My feelings were completely dictated by my stomach. I wasn’t starving, I’m not undernourished; I was just a little hungry, but I had completely abandoned my composure.

40 days and 40 nights Jesus didn’t eat in the dessert, He was tempted by Satan himself, offered the entire world and yet not once did he falter in His resolve.  Jesus didn’t worship his stomach; he could look beyond himself to a bigger goal.

Food, comfort, pleasure; just a few more of the false altars at which I make a daily offering. Each to be laid down at the altar of my God; each to be consumed in the refiners fire.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

The Caffeine-free Chronciles.

I have been floating round the house with mugs of water in an attempt to trick my mind into thinking its getting caffeine.  If you know me at all, you will know that I love tea.  And coffee too for that matter.  So as I reach half way through my Live Below the Line challenge it isn't so much the microwaved frozen veg or plain sticky rice that is making me countdown the days...its missing the comforting embrace of a nice cup of tea.  But so far it has been going well;

Day 1 was spent in Belfast city for lunch and coffee with friends...which looked delicious for them but tasted like tap water for me.  But I enjoyed my chocolate spread sandwich as soon as we left the cafe so all was okay.

 I did feel hunger pangs by the time I had got home after walking around the city all day, so was thankful when David arrived for date night.  Monday night is usually our big treat night; eating out or cooking great dishes and eating way too much dessert.  This time, needless to say, was a little different but though the quality of food left a little to be desired I was just as (if not more) thankful to be provided with sustenance.

Day 2 I spent mainly at home which gave me a little more time to think about what the challenge is actually about. What is a sponsored week for me is reality for others and that hits hard over spoonfuls of plain cous cous.  I read Acts 4 description of the early church where I'm told "they had EVERYTHING in common."  There was not a needy person among them because each sold their possessions and laid them at the apostles feet so it could be "distributed to each as any had need."  What do I have in common with my brothers and sisters living in poverty? Certainly not everything. Do our lifestyles reflect that we are part of one body?  In the same way it would be strange for one person to be dressed in designer clothes and rags is there not a disconnect if Christ's united bride is clothed in both finery and rags whilst on earth? Surely the same needs that were present in the early church times still exist so why has the distribution ceased to continue?  Day 2's prayer is that God might be revealing to me my role in distribution, and my role in meeting the needs of His beloved people.

Day 3 I was out and about for the whole day which really showed me how much I rely on eating out. So as to not get stranded with nothing to eat I had to prepare a sandwich and cous cous snack with plenty of bottled water in  the morning to make sure I would have enough energy for the full day and was still glad by the time we made it home for a rice dinner...again...although this time I enjoyed my first piece from my much anticipated packet of bacon!!!  Morning of day 3 was frustratingly slow without my coffee kickstart, but I eventually got out of the house and it was a good day.

Day 4 has arrived and I’m half way through, looking forward to Tesco value beans on toast for lunch!  Its not so much that I’m feeling hungry as the boredom of the same plain foods that is getting to me at this point.  And again social plans have had to change as the cinema won’t be accompanied by a meal out with friends tonight.  BUT my morale has been boosted as sponsors are starting to come in.  So far I’m almost at £200 that I know about which really helps it feel worthwhile.  If you could sponsor me even a little please let me know!  Thanks for following my updates, not long to go now!


Saturday, June 7, 2014

Mindless spending: thoughts as I anticipate the start of the live below the line challenge.

It was a thoughtful walk home from Tesco for me this evening.  I had just completed my shop for the coming week, where my decision to do the 'Live below the Line Challenge' from the 9th to the 15th July will take effect.  Seven days eating on a total budget of £7 lie ahead in an effort to open my eyes a little to the reality of 1 in 6 people worldwide who live below the poverty line on less than £1 a day.  As well as looking to learn from the experience I will  be receiving sponsorship to raise money for our tip to do missions in Romania next month.  The challenge seems appropriate as a preparation for part of what we will be doing out there; a two night 'Bush Camp' designed to simulate living in poverty.  This will include what we eat and where we sleep down to the fact we will be going shower and cosmetic free!

So I have bought my groceries, faced the embarrassment of having to pay then put a few items back on the shelf because they were over my budget, and this is what I could afford;


I am very excited that bacon was £1, and feeling confident that I will be able to make it.  But note that there is no coffee or tea bags on that list so if you know me at all you might be praying for those who will have to spend time with me over the next week!

On a more serious note though, it did shock me that on a second receipt from the same trip you would see that I spent £7.55 on a picnic lunch for David and I tomorrow.  That's MORE than the next weeks budget spent on one simple lunch. What does this say about the value I put on money? Am I being a good steward of what I have in my hand?  As I walked home I thought about what will come of the money I save next week; will it make it into a tithe, or go towards my sponsor kids, to support missions or even simply buy a bunch of flowers to let a friend know they are loved?  More likely it would get lost among other mindless expenditures; new summer clothes, entertainment, expensive shampoo.  I never really considered myself extravagant with spending but I know at times I am mindless.  But can I afford to be mindless when living on £1 a day is the reality for some?

(If you are able to sponsor me, it would be most appreciated; money will be going towards the cost of our teams trip to Romania and resources out there such as the children's bible club we will be running. Donations can be made online by following the green button on this page http://www.exodusonline.org.uk/teams/team-10-ex-change-romania-2014/ or I will have a sponsor sheet if you wish to give me the money in person.  Thank you so much!).

Friday, May 16, 2014

The broken pieces of the alabaster jar.

As I meditate on Luke 7 I can almost picture the scene around the dinner table: the broken pieces of the alabaster jar lie shattered at the feet of a guest, expensive perfume spilled out on the ground before Him as a weeping woman holds nothing back; her riches and dignity poured out before Him.

I can see the woman with her knees on the dirty ground and her hair lying in tangles before her as she uses it to wipe her Saviour's feet with her salty tears.  Though she is uninvited she shows hospitality to the one who has paid the ransom for her lost soul.  She is moved by the knowledge within her that she has been stained deep scarlet by the vastness of her sin yet here in front of her she finds the worn feet of the one who can clothe her in radiant white once more.

Onlookers condemn her and doubt their dinner guest for He has yet to rebuke this undignified spectacle.  But the Saviour of the sick directs his rebuke only at them; He tells them they don't understand because they have only been forgiven little so their love is also small.  All the while, the weeping woman does not falter in her kisses because she knows she has been forgiven much and from this reserve flows a love that has consumed her.

As I place myself in this story I discover that I too am broken as the alabaster jar, poured out as the perfume, dirty as the Saviour's feet and forgiven as the sinful woman.  And it is from this place where I find the forgiveness that has removed my iniquity that I uncover a raw love in me; only because at a great price that same dinner guest has also loved me first.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

As life's riches increase...

Life has been so colourful lately, overflowing with beautiful places and people.  Mum came to visit which was lovely to show her round my life and my home here.  We had a glorious day at the North Coast then lots of time to natter about the happenings of life.
 
The North Coast
Then Easter crept up and four of us packed up the tents and road tripped down the West Coast of Ireland, staying in Donegal the first night, then working our way down the Wild Atlantic Way; stopping off at beaches and cities until we reached the Cliffs of Moher in Co. Clare.  There was an N.Irish, an English, a Pakistani and an American; lots of excitement about sheep, my first swim in the Atlantic ocean, sunshine and pouring rain, a leaking tent, stargazing by the sea, ukulele playing in the car and armfuls of friendship.  

The beautiful Wild Atlantic Way

Where I swam in the freezing sea

Morning walk along the beach

The stunning Cliffs of Moher
Wednesday we arrived home tired but filled with awe at the workmanship of our creator.  Then straight into setting up for Team 10's, fundraiser formal.  Team 10; the group of young people I am co-leading with David through Exodus.  This involves weekly discipleship leading up to a mission trip to Romania in July. It was a great evening; David and my first formal together and we were responsible for and catering for 90 young people, but God was faithful in meeting us at the task and all went smoothly.  We are greatly blessed with this opportunity to do ministry together and excited about this group of young people we seek to invest in.

Carryduff Baptist Church transformed

The Catering Team
Life is certainly rich at the moment and it seems to be only getting richer, so God's word tugged at my heart when I read this challenge to not look to these blessings but to Him; to not fill my heart with the created before the creator;
"If riches increase, set not your heart on them." Psalm 62:10

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Busy building empires of rubble.

This afternoon I had to crawl into bed drained to listen to worship music and simply think about the name Jesus. There is power and refuge and perspective in that name, power to break every chain.

And He showed me that I am drained because I've been busy building an empire.  I've been building my efforts into a small empire to surround me as a place of security and splendour in times of success and smooth-sailing.

But when the ground shakes so is my empire shaken and I fall into uncertainty and failure: a bad grade can shake me if I built my empire on good grades. When people don't give me the feedback I want I am shaken if my empire is built on the comfort and affirmation of others.

Instead I am to take my energy and affections and build those bricks into the Kingdom of Jesus.  A Kingdom of firm foundations that will not be shaken. In doing so when I fall down I will be held up because my hope and my heart are built into something far bigger than my own efforts; something sustained by the power of Jesus and the community of believers.

How easily good things can become my downfall if I build them up around myself to prove myself safe and validated.  It is only in the shaking of the ground that my empire is revealed to be a mere pile of rubble and I can again refocus my eyes on to the unshakable and worthwhile Kingdom.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Though I still wait on Him, I am not to be silent.

So, here it is, my first blog post on the sex industry; prompted by a seminar from 'No More Traffik' last week during which we discussed and were informed of the nature and causes of trafficking. Firstly, here is a quick overview of the facts...

Trafficking: 'The coercion, movement and exploitation of people for profit.'

  •  Sexual exploitation makes up 79% of human trafficking.  Most of which is at the expense of women and girls.

  • The next most common form of trafficking is forced labor.

  • Though the term 'trafficking' involves movement, it is most often not over international borders but something that occurs close to home.

  • Trafficking occurs in at least 160 countries.  
Why? Because there is a demand. Because a body can be sold multiple times a day over years, making it the largest source of income for organised crime.

Why? Because poverty and emotional vulnerability create an opportunity for exploitation.

Why?  Because not everybody views people as made in the image of God.  A certain mind set is required for somebody to perceive another human as a commodity to be used or sold.

So why am I writing about this?
Though as mentioned earlier, this post was prompted by a seminar, it was several years ago that I first heard the specific call of God on my life to work with women in prostitution. I accepted it as something to come into action far into my future.  But now I feel the stir of the Lord.  He has been molding and breaking my heart as He prepares me, and now though I still wait on Him, I understand that I am not to be silent.

In the seminar, having been presented with the facts, we were asked which aspect of trafficking personally offends us most... what is it that resonates with my heart specifically?  What brings ME to tears?  Personally my desperation is found in the theft of dignity that is involved in the sex industry....but for the person beside me it will likely be something else.  This is powerful and beautiful; we do not barge into these issues as if we can conjure up anything to contribute to the efforts of justice, rather we look into ourselves to discover the burdens and resources already at hand and bring them to the Lord as an offering to be used and multiplied.  For some they have a great anger when they consider the traffickers, for others they are overwhelmed by the tragedy of the stories of victims, some approach with a law degree or the gift of counselling others the ability to public speak.  It is with this individuality that we can creatively begin to tackle the issue.

With creativity and individuality, but also with an acknowledgement that by myself I have nothing to offer.   Alone Lucy can not storm into the brothels and deliver justice to the owners and bring about restoration for the victims.  I have neither strength nor expertise and I know nothing of suffering.  But I wait on one who does.

 I come simply with an imperfect desperation for the renewal of dignity and justice and a young life committed to see change.Where that commitment will take me I do not know, but I felt that I should write for the first time about the deepest and most mysterious burden of my heart, that perhaps one day I can look back on the journey and witness God's hand at work from the start.

"Shake yourself from the dust and arise; be seated O Jerusalem; loose the bonds of your neck O captive daughter of Zion." Isaiah 52:2

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Decluttering life.

Every semester Belfast Bible College takes a day off classes for a 'Quiet day,' which probably tells you a lot in itself about the college ethos.  So today fellowship groups piled in cars to head out to the zoo, surfing, monasteries, Dublin...all over.  My group set out for the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum.

And may I say, today has been one of the best days of my time here. The museum was great, the company even better.  Never underestimate the power of an intentional day off...a Sabbath of your education.

The museum recreated an old village that you were free to wander around and experience how life would have been.  Each of us were struck by the beauty of the simplicity; small houses, few possessions, only home-made entertainment.  How strikingly different to the clutter of our lives and homes.  How far our schedules waver from following daylight hours and working with our hands.  How far apart bigger houses can drive family and social media can drive community.  Are we not at danger of cluttering our lives to the point of loneliness?


It was a fun and leisurely day of learning about the past as well as a time of fellowship, laughter and great conversations.  How refreshing it is to relax into casual yet deep discussions on everything from marriage to war and poverty with like-minded people.

And then in the evening I get the privilege to have somebody take me to a hill to wonder at the stars together and quietly contemplate the happenings of the day.

So there is a peek into a fantastically ordinary but lovely day, whilst I warm up with a hot chocolate and reflect on the lessons to be learnt.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Our Small Adventure.

It seems I have developed a delightful habit of taking a week off each semester for a refuel and an adventure! This semester it took the form of Glasgow, Edinburgh, Newcastle.  Time to make new friends, catch up and say goodbye to an old friend and travel with David for the first time.

And what a JOY it has been, our time in Scotland was filled with castles, parks, museums, bus tours, hostels, pancakes, afternoons in coffee shops and much craziness.  How sweet it is to spend time away in good company.






Then I traveled on home to touch base with family and friends and enjoy my own bed once again. Good conversations and the power of being back by the beach; being home refreshes my soul, but this time also signified to me a shift in seasons.


And what did I hear? That we are different.

That the Lord stirs up different things in each of us and persuades our hearts in different directions.  I can not impose my relationship with God as an expectation for others, nor should I desire for theirs to look the same.  Advice is limited in that their are a thousand paths, but God is not limited because He faithfully goes before us.

Monday, March 10, 2014

My seasons.

When the seasons change,
Who forewarns the trees?
Who makes their branches sturdy,
Who prepares them for the breeze?

When the snow is scheduled to come,
Who tells the birds to stock up?
Are they told to layer their nest,
Or is their survival simply luck?

When the sun begins to scorch,
Is there a call to alert the slugs?
Does somebody order their movement;
How come we dont lose the bugs?

My point is that seasons change,
But nature always seems to be ready;
So when it comes to my seasons,
Will my balance also be held steady?

Thursday, February 27, 2014

The weariness found in the RISES and FALLS of esteem.

I believe passionately that I am to be true to myself.

But my secret is that it is tiring.

I do NOT agree with a consumerist culture where we posses beauty and run after fashion.  I do NOT believe beauty is found in a size, or can be measured by our ability to never change; your jeans always fitting right or your skin always remaining smooth.  Deep in my spirit I know that beauty does NOT demand perfection.

But I say 'deep', because sometimes that knowledge is buried.

The world does NOT testify to the convictions of my spirit.  Beauty IS to be consumed and measured.  It is an understanding of the eyes: not the heart or the ears or the mind.  And its tiring being watched, because we do NOT always wake up to clear skin and our clothes do NOT always fit right. It's tiring because the world has power to undermine our value.

I read a while ago and have pondered since: one of Satan's most subtle and successful lies of all time is convincing women they look better with make-up.

'Although your esteem may rise and fall, your TRUE worth never changes.'
And so be it.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

And He said to me...

"My child, it is good for you to be near to me.  I love to lavish blessings on you out of the abundance of my love; a fount that will never run dry!

But my blessings only go so far, as a sign post to me.  I long to draw you towards myself and minister to your soul.

Lucy I never designed you to be strong, as it is written, it is in your very weakness that my power manifests itself and brings forth perfection.

I see the devil whisper lies to you; two fold lies that at the same time put a demand on you to be perfect in your own strength, he tells you you are almost there, if you could only be a little better you will spare me of the duty of perfecting you on your behalf.  And then in the next breath he speaks and shouts your imperfections over you.  He drags mistakes up from the bottom of the ocean of my forgiveness.  But my forgiveness, though similar in vastness is NOT an ocean; there is no bottom, no distance to which the blood of my son can not flow.  No stain is too stubborn to be removed.  I desire for you to live in the freedom of this truth, not to be bound up in the malicious, yet subtle lies of our enemy.

I do not need you, yet every day I am jealous for you.  It is good for you to be near to me, rest in the shadow of my wings.

I love you, Abba, Father."

Saturday, February 8, 2014

The beauty is in the story.

Thursday brought with it Belfast Bible College's retreat.  We headed to the beautiful coast to enjoy each other's company and wait on the Lord.


It was a rich time of fellowship through eating together, worship time and midnight walks.  The teaching over the two days was different; a fresh perspective on both the gospel and life at BBC. We were reminded of the profound way in which Jesus spoke through silence, then focused on his use of stories to communicate.  Each story being a journey to be experienced rather than a dispensable  means to a moral.  This is both transforming of how we view Jesus' parables and applicable to the testimonies of our lives.  The beauty lies in the story; in the being, in the flaws, in the journey.  We can not extract the good and forget the very path that strengthened us.


Let us find freedom in his grace and fall into his beauty! I give thanks for the richness and potential of the community at BBC.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Who am I that you are mindful of me?

"When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him..?" Psalm 8:4
Its not even that he is mindful in that he created the human body so INTRICATELY that it can see and think and breathe and remember, and so EXTRAVAGANTLY that each person's thumbprint is unique.  Its not even that he is mindful in that he gave us souls and free will with the desire that we might choose to worship him, then pursued us with sacrificial love to ensure the door was always available should we choose to knock.  But today the mindfulness that leaves me in awe is that he is has a plan for every part of our lives, and he unravels it in stepping stones.

At church here I have become involved in working with the 11-18 year olds on a Sunday night, through a group called 'Focus'.  I had decided against finding a weekly placement through college with the hope that a ministry would come about naturally, so it fitted well when I was asked to help out.  Though nervous I wouldn't have the skills to connect with the young people, Focus has been a joy to be a part of and I have surprised myself with a feeling of urgency for them to come to know Christ.

Then tonight was 'connect' night at church which is once a month to unite the church and pray into different aspects. And the theme this time was our Focus group.  I got to hear for the first time of the issues and the prayer behind the group starting; the fact that there were originally just two people in that age group, and the fact that they were praying for leaders: cue Andy and I starting at the church.

And then the other victory; that Andy, Hannah and I had to plan and deliver this service.  Public speaking; something I had come to dread due to a time of a lack of self-esteem is perhaps slowly being returned to me (this is the third time I have had to speak at this church).  But the stepping stone is gradual because the Lord is a gentleman to me and the audience at Finaghy Baptist is small and generous with their encouragement.

Tonight I can't shake the sense that the Lord has far greater plans in store for me than I envision for myself.  He is not only mindful of me; he is EXTRAVAGANTLY concerned and INTIMATELY involved in every aspect of my life.  The very same God who made the moon and the stars, how can this be?

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Overcoming Claustrophobia with Contentment.

I found myself calling home tonight with a frustrated soul.  I was feeling claustrophobic.  I never expected to feel so at home in Belfast; more than just studying here I have fallen for the character.  And yet half way through my degree I find myself with itchy feet.  To a gypsy heart, three years seems like a long time.

And do you know what my mother blamed? Facebook.  Mum is evangelical about the woes of false and constant communication, I usually just roll my eyes but I see her point here.  The root is in the comparison.

I compare myself to others.  For whatever insecurity I feel at that particular time I am met with the smiling face of somebody who has mastered it.  There are newly weds, pregnancy pictures, travel photos, people living up the party lifestyle, others writing reflective poetry about their awesome spiritual life, people working hard having found their career and then there are those that simply look great.

I compare myself to myself.  Its easy to look back on life and compare the seasons.  Times of travel or a group of friends; wishing to be younger again or yearning to be settled as a wife or a mother.  I have ideas of where I should be at this point and I'm quick to critique my shortcomings.

Each comparison designed to rob me of wholeness in myself and of feeling joy for the other person.  The Devil smirks, and I grow frustrated.

But I read the other day,
"But godliness with contentment is great gain" 1 Timothy 6:6
This advice is completely counter to our culture, something I'm looking for more of in my life.  In a society that seeks to take our dignity and sell it back to us, we must not fall into the comparison trap but instead intentionally guard our contentment each day.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

A trip to where they drink coffee out of bowls.

Travelling is one of the main things in my life that has consistently produced growth.  Growth has come through both positive and negative means; lavish generosity, physical exhaustion, poor leadership, poverty, beauty, cultures I love and cultures I hate.  But travel is always different and so always provokes a response.

This past week I got to travel to France, to visit some good friends.  For me the whole week provided the fresh space and courage I needed to listen to what God had to say.

Firstly, I heard that the Lord has good things! He lavishes faithfulness and provision on us because we are his children! He does not wait until we are in the midst of persecution or have sacrificed our life on the mission field, he is actively and creatively concerned with my every need! Rich friendships, good food, creation and stimulation of the mind are to be appreciated not denied.

Then the beauty of visiting church in another language.  I first fell in love with this in Colombia where it blew my mind how much I got out of listening to a sermon in Spanish.  And so again, in France I was reminded of the extraordinary vastness of my God.  When you don't understand the words spoken you get to look around and take comfort in the fact that the French girl across the room has invested her life in the SAME God, because she too knows him to be true.  A God bigger than language and culture, and lo and behold bigger than me. And the sound of worship songs in French is certainly beautiful too.

And my third main lesson  came in a whisper on a ski slope.  When surrounded by a never ending blanket of snow and the mystery of the mountains, I get a glimpse of what it means when I read that if we do not praise, the rocks will cry out.  The purity of creation, far better a worshiper than I am.  And it was into the awe of my heart as I considered the whiteness of the snow, that the Lord spoke to me, 

"Look around and take note my child, for this is the colour of your soul."

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

1/1/14

Just when I had got adjusted to being at home, its time to pack up again, next stop is France on Friday! I'm surprisingly weepy about leaving so soon.  But i'm glad to have ushered in the New Year with great friends then spent the first day of the year fighting the elements and hiding out in our new favourite cafe with my sweet family.



So hello 2014, you are already my new favourite year! How blessed I am to get to BEGIN with a full heart.  And now all that's left is to make a (rather long) note of my resolutions;

  1. Become a better listener
  2. Worry less
  3. Waste less money
  4. Grumble less
  5. Discover and develop spiritual disciplines
  6. Use less artificial communication... in fact use my phone less in general
  7. Invest more in young people
  8. Embrace my quirks

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Fall on your knees.

I'm flawed and selfish. I am too young for wisdom and too old for innocence.  I do not know how to begin to love another as myself, at times even loving myself is too much for me.

In a facade of humility I strike up a parade of focus on me.  When I don't know the right answers I build up my walls and scramble to stay standing.

But one greater than I has strode in; one who knows how to love perfectly.  He is relentless in bringing me to my knees.

Never meant to stand in my own strength, I'm accepted whilst riddled with flaws.  My fickle heart must look up from the mire towards its maker if it is to learn anything of love.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Returning to England; life outside the bubble.

It is sweet, so sweet to be home again. My joy is complete, being back among family and familiar places.
But England feels cold.  Had I forgotten how secular the atmosphere is here?  Today catch ups have come with the news of affairs, suicide and people 'taking a break' from church.  My bubble was popped.  It seems there is a consensus of disappointment with life...with the church.

Tonight, as I headed back to Jesmond for a carol service, I reminisced on my school days.  How different was life with only one other christian in my year? How did I cope? Yet how much more disciplined was my witness! I had an awareness that for some I was all they would see of Christianity, and I took that responsibility seriously.

Let me remember this feeling of being worn out by the ways of the world.  How long it had been since I last crawled into bed craving the Lord's presence.  How long it had been since I felt this genuine ache for the salvation of others.


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

As it turns out, I quite like people after all.

I love all the articles circulating recently about understanding introverts. They help me understand and relax into quirks about myself that I used to fight.  I have always loved spending time in my own company, if I go too long without 'Lucy time' I become quiet and unable to interact with those around me.  I'm no longer myself because I haven't been able to recharge.

But in the past while, the way I view people has changed. My heart has been softened and opened by a delight in those the Lord has placed around me. It has been a blurred cycle of lovable personalities and a change in my attitude.  Beauty in people has altered my attitude and an altered attitude has allowed me to better see this beauty.

Returning to Texas was a surprising joy; I had anguished over whether it would still feel like home, yet so quickly the hospitality there overwhelmed me once again and I became firm in the knowledge that wherever my life journeys, I will always have family in Ft Worth and a bed to sleep in.

Then back home to N.Ireland, where I have independence and routine. I never have plans here yet delight in the almost constant company of others. I find security in the community of my college and my church but even more so through the investment of great friends; friends that are opening my thinking and growing my confidence.  Never have I more desired the will of God in my life, or spent more time contemplating that plan.  Perhaps I allow Him more trust as I get to live out the good plans He has directed me in so far.

Thirdly, being away from home.  The friendship I have found in my parents and sister.  My greatest supporters live on the outskirts of my life, yet a phone call home brings the laughter and council to mend any situation.  I am thankful for this distance that has made the heart grow fonder, but I am bursting with childish excitement to fly home on Friday.  Returning to Whitley Bay doesn't just bring family, but also the group of friends who know me best.  More than ever, since Summer, we have kept in touch, pounding each other with prayer requests and speaking support into each other's lives and decisions.

So, I ask myself if life has ever been so sweet? And I thank those who make it so easy to enjoy.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Friday, November 15, 2013

The OTHER love story.

It was just a fling of summer adventures in England; late nights, giggles and charming my families affections.

It grew with the switching back and forth over the summers, I stayed with her in Texas, she came back to England.

It became sisterhood when she moved in with my family for a year.  We became partners in crime; forever in trouble for staying up too late, sleeping in the same bed, making too much noise...or too much mess. Sharing secrets, winding each other up.  We had a special way of making coffee, a constant stream of little notes, we put our names together: Meredith + Lucy = Mercy. We traveled together, wept together, danced in the rain and wore each others clothes.  We were accountability partners and every night we prayed together.

Then she moved home...and I moved there too.  We fell out, we missed each other.  We fell back together.  Trips to the lake, roadtrips, lunch dates more cups of tea. Visiting her at Uni, boyfriends, break ups, tears and laughter.

I came home and started a life in N.Ireland, came back to Texas visit.  Waffle house, life talks, matching mugs... our boyfriends living together. Us missing living together.

Long distance sisterhood, letters and packages.  Texts and skype calls.  Tears and joys shared, break ups and growth. Always missing each other.

And now she is getting married.  The first of my sisters.  I have to hand over her snuggles and kisses and secrets to somebody else. It's weird and it's lovely and she is in good care.  Always a sister I chose for myself, part of my family and part of my heart.  So many things she introduced me to, or brought out in me, a thousand ways she has helped me to grow.

So in a few days I'm skipping class to fly thousands of miles to be there to see Chad and Meredith get hitched!!!  Here's to the next season, with a reflection on the last. "Mercy is splendiferous." 






















 p.s. I love you.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Questions I have asked God this week.

I am, by personality, a thinker.  This runs into every area of my life and I am not unfamiliar with the advice, "Lucy. I think you might be over thinking this..." 

Studying theology is therefore deeply satisfying for me, but also a great source of frustration.  This week has been a headache because of two burning questions that I can not seem to resolve.

Firstly, "God, why am I not a Muslim?"


This may seem a strange thing to ask, but the issue was raised in class as we studied pluralism, inclusivism and exclusivism.

 Do all religions worship the same God?   It has been suggested that the religions all emerged at a similar time because God was revealed and then interpreted differently in different cultural contexts; forming the different world religions.  I was shocked to hear that some Christians refer to God as 'Allah' when praying because they believe both are the same.

Or should I approach my religion as separate but true only in that it is right for me? Whereas Buddhism may also be true because it is right for my friend.  Must I simply respect their beliefs and not seek to convert them to my thinking?

If the above are incorrect then why do I get to assume the superior religion? Because I have experienced God? Because Christianity has a Holy Book that tells me so? Would these arguments stand against the testimony of a 20 year old girl of another religion?

And so my mind echoes the question that has been put to me before, If I was born in the Middle East with a Muslim mother, would I not be Muslim too?

Secondly, "God, since when did you approve of Genocide?"


This was raised by an essay on the conquests of Joshua where I have anguished over finding a conclusion.  The arguments available follow that the story is either historically true or a myth. If it is true then God divinely sanctioned and therefore approved of the total destruction of an indigenous people in Canaan. But if it is a myth, which archaeological contradictions would seem to agree with, then my whole viewpoint of the bible must open up and change.  Tempting though it is to dismiss the moral dilemmas raised and understand it all to be story, the opportunity to recreate an idea of God's behaviour that suits the ethics of today's society does not sit well with me.  

I am therefore exposed to the issue of an apparent inconsistency with the loving and compassionate God of life I think I know.  i've always known the Old Testament is violent but what I once pushed to the back of my mind now seems unavoidable. I read the other day the suggestion that those who say they love the bible, probably haven't read it all. Is this true, am I unable to love it all?

Monday, November 4, 2013

Stopping for a moment to count my blessings.

This week I have been given a good glimpse of God.  Not so much directly from him but through the reflection of his beauty, enabled by his grace.

I have seen him alive in the people I have spent time with. Specifically in my new church family, where my heart has been softened by people remembering my name, inviting me out and delighting in sharing in my life. I have overheard people praying for me, and I have been given the opportunity to share about my home.

Also in my bible college friends; the security of their love and the testimony of their faith.  This week I have seen friends be bruised by life yet faithfully cling to the love of the Lord, allowing us to find laughter amongst their tears. I've had family time over games nights and shared meals.  And together we have basked in frustration at the trauma of having to actually read over reading week!

I have been shown God in his creation. I was whisked off on a girls weekend to Carlingford just across the border into Ireland.  It was a retreat of girl talks into the early hours of the morning, lie ins, walking adventures, board games, and much laughter.  How sweet it was to get to know those girls and their enjoyment of life.  But also how clearly I could gain perspective when faced with the beauty of that place.  Views God had created out of the extravagance of his nature, no detail idly overlooked; for no other purpose but the display of his glory.

"If they keep quiet the stones will cry out."

And yet again exploring the North Coast...


This week I have also been given a glimpse of myself.  Especially today. I have moaned over slow computers, and requirements of my course.  I wanted to cry at having to walk an extra 10 minutes on the way to Tesco because I forgot my purse. I have been impatient with others and envious of their blessings. Worse, I have been impatient with God, demanding a fresh and exciting revelation.

How far I am from his perfection and how quickly I let go of who he is. This week has been a gift wrapped in grace yet like an ungrateful child I have quickly become unsatisfied and demand more. So should I now strive to replicate his awesome perfection? Perhaps  not. But can I stop for a minute to count my blessings? Well that's what this post is about.