The Willow Tree

The Willow Tree stands by the water, not the tallest, never stronger -

Than mighty pines and oaks that grow taller and live longer

Yet flexible her branches, her swaying limbs as the wind blows

-That stormy destroying wind which picks up larger trees and downward throws-

Is cut into a thousand pieces by the whipping branches and reduced to a whispered hiss

By the little leaves resistless motion. The storm is stilled by this.

I've been there

I've let the side down
Gone against the tide - down
From where I had their trust
To grovelling in the dust
From Alpha to Anathema
From healthy to a carrier
Of disease and I have been
In solitary quarantine.
I've been there.

I've been on the other side
In me the others can't confide
'Cause I'm not Kosha anymore
And I must wait outside the door
Until my penance is complete
And I can stand upon my feet
I have betrayed those that I serve
And I have got what I deserve.
I've been there.

And there I found him
Smeared with other people's sin
And mine - I know he saw, he knew
The pain that I'd been going through
Did what I'd done even evince
From his bruised soul an extra wince?
I'd nailed him up, joined in the kill
But I knew, slowly, dawningly,
He loved me still.

Composed whilst helping in Bridge drop in 16/7/14

                                                    Better than nothing

 I live somewhere, it's not home
It's just somewhere to be
I suppose I should be grateful
I'm not on the streets
It isn't special
But it's better than nothing.

I go to a place in the mornings
And eat beans on toast
Bread from Sainsbury's
That they couldn't sell
It's not my choice
But it's better than nothing.

They give me clothes
I can get a shower
Use the phone, talk to people
They aren't my friends
Just other people who go there
But it's better than nothing

I'm on Benefits JSA
I've been inside
I won't get a job
But I pretend to look
So I won't get my money stopped
The money is a joke
But it's better than nothing.

I've got a kid, don't see him
His mum's a bitch
We split up
I've got a new partner, she's a pain
I don't love her
But it's better than nothing.

I drink a bit, but don't take drugs
I'm not a junkie
I'm better than that
I drink this cider
It's never seen the inside of an apple
But it's better than nothing.

I'm not happy
But I like the footy, I used to play
But it didn't work out
I didn't fit in
I only watch it on T.V. now.
But it's better than nothing.

Why do I keep going?
Something won't let me stop
I duck and dive
Watch my back
I wouldn't call it life
But it's better than nothing

I'm not special, noone cares
My Dad left, my Mum died
I don't see my family
They don't like me
I have acquaintances, not friends
But it's better than nothing.

The eroding of the dream

It's getting on for a year since I blogged anything. Not without event but without comment. The most significant happening in the year was the death of my Mum on 12th April. Everything seems more looseley attached since then and I marvel that anything ever carried an air of permanence. Existence has changed from an endless land fading into an unseen horizon light years away to a fast burning fuse crackling towards the inevitable bomb.

At Mum's funeral I was told by my cousin that my favourite home of my childhood had been bulldosed to make way for 3 luxury houses which together would cost 1000 times more than what my parents paid for the house in 1959. The old house is still on google earth....for now.

In 2001 when Debbie and I were on honeymoon I photograped her in front of a massive cedar tree at Watersmeet. last week we visited the same place, but, no tree; in its place a circular wall with a lid covering the stump.

With the passing of the years, more and more things seem to drift from the essential to the futile. Those things which seemed urgent and vital the causes we embraced, the vision we carried seem more like a frantic grasp at something which is moving away from us at ever-increasing speed.

I can understand the hermits going off into the desert away from the decay, where time and effort can be put into the seeking of the imperishable and unchanging, although I believe it can be sought anywhere; it's not the geographical location which is important rather the absence of distractions. Hearing the love song is easier when someone isn't operating a road drill 30 yards away but the song is there for those who manage to filter out the racket.

In an antique shop recently there were some coal shovels similar to the ones we used at home when I was growing up. Junk really but ridiculously expensive as they were old. Today's stuff is tomorrows antiques. My smartphone in the british museum with onlookers chortling at how primitive it is.

What is to be done? Still restless, still dissattisfied still hungry. That doesn't go away. I am a hermit in babylon seeking to find out how to drown out the noise, to turn from the glitter, link with the eternal. To see it in colour rather than black and white.

Where to draw the line

Starting to regularly pray for people raises an interesting problem.  I know a lot of people. The other day in the car I decided to pray for my relations which is not something I have really done before,  but how far do you go? I got to about 30 people and still I could have brought more to mind.  Where do I stop?

This is what I have concluded:  Apart from one or two people I have never prayed regularly for others (shameful but true), now I am holding quite a few people before God.  The transition from almost nothing to where I am now is a great improvement.  If I can maintain that it's got to be good. I must trust God to fill in the gaps (and with several billion people in the world there are a lot of gaps!) and remember that it isn't all down to me.

The progress of prayer

Teach us how to pray, could we be a praying people
Shake us up today Lord.

We're calling out on our knees, desperate Lord for you to be......

Are we??

That is the question that has occupied my thoughts for some time now. We know how to sing about prayer, talk about prayer but we don't really know how to pray. For the last few months I have been drawn into the whole subject. First I went to an Evangelism vision and action evening where one of the sisters spoke about prayer support in evangelism.  It was good stuff but I realised pretty soon that it was not really happening in any organised way. There was no targeted prayer say on a Saturday afternoon when people were on the streets.  So some of us had the idea of prayer texts. I had a list of people on my phone and texted prayer needs live from the evangelism scene. Peole could pray whilst, doing the Ironing or digging the garden.  This has proved to be a successful way to use our resources and has seemed fruitful. There are now 21 people who receive the prayer texts.

I found myself in the position of an administrator of prayers. In addition to that, we started a small intercession time before the Sunday evening meeting. In terms of my personal prayer life although I saw the need to pray, I wasn't really much the wiser about what it involved. Then at the last Bank Holiday weekend I went to one of the pre meeting intercession times, thinking "well I'm into this stuff, I may as well join in". When I got there I was aware of the presence of God, not flashes of lightening or anything extreme like that but enough to shake me up a bit. I wrote down my thoughts in a poem which I subsequently read out at the testimony time:

Not many rich, not any rich,
Or famous, or of note
Were gathered in that corner praying
No great orators, change makers
Worls shakers, no outward strengths portraying
Not fashionable, sexy, cool
Popular, young up and coming
Full of flair
Just lowly people
Knowing inadequacy, nothing fancy
But HE was there.

I didn't go to any more of those times through the weekend. I felt that this was not just something I could dip into and out of.  This was serious and I was a bit scared. For some weeks after that I shied away from praying that much. I got that feeling, which you get when you are considering becomeing a christian :- "if I get into this it is going to consume my life and I don't know if I am ready for it". The Lord has kept on knocking though and I have continued to say "teach me how to pray".  The other week I was praying it I think when I was in the bathroom in the morning and I felt the Lord said: "you have got to focus" So I got some pieces of card and on each card I wrote a name of someone close to me (18 names in all) then I looked at each of the names for one minute each (setting a timer on my phone - I know I am a nerd!).  That was it.  I would not particularly call that praying but I was just doing what I thought God was saying to me. I have done this a few times I have also thought about various people in the car on the way to work and most recently when running. I say to myself I am going to think about that person until I get to that point and so on. The way I see it is like this: As I am focussing on a person I am believing that God is focussing upon them and doing them good. I don't think so much that prayer is powerful, rather that prayer moves God's hand and he is powerful.  Not that what I am doing is prayer in the conventional sense.  Once I have felt a slight sense of what people call "a burden" but that is probably about it.  So I am coming to the end of a run last Friday and I'm asking God to teach me how to pray.  I get in, have a shower blah blah and so on. Then I start to do a bit in the garden, someone phones me. There is this trial of a new initiative the next day at acc. Continual prayer throughout the meetings would I lead a team and coordinate the other teams and if we decide to roll it out to all big meetings I would be considered the coordinator of that. Interesting. Some kind of agenda is going on here and its not of my doing. All I am asking is to be able to pray particularly for other people and see changes in their lives for the better.

Has anything happened apart from the above - well a few things of note.  The other week someone who attends Church occasionally was chatting to me.  This person's conversation isn't the most inspiring and usually I try to get away asap but I felt no need to do that.  The normal sense of imatience wasn't there. That was good.  It seems generally that because I am thinking about people more, I have more time for them. The other thing that has happened is that there seems to have been a lot more opportunity to Pastor people (which is my main ministry).  Sunday afternoon was full on sharing with this and that person and it was all good. Possibly the result of sowing to the spirit. Who knows? It bodes well really for how it will be when I really know how to pray.

The grim truth

I was with someone yesterday in the course of my work I had not seen for a while. In the course of conversation I asked about how their drinking was going. They told me that they were doing OK although they admitted to going for the odd couple of pints otherwise they were doing ok. They had to get out of the car to attend to some business and left the lucozade bottle they had been carrying on the floor by the seat.  So, like you do I unscerwed the lid and had a sniff.  Yes, I'm afraid so, it was lager.  I had thought I caught a whiff of it earlier. So we have someone who is keeping themselves topped up, uses the pretty normal trick of putting the booze in a soft drink bottle.  Why? I am not judging them.  The truth is that they are lying to themselves,  trying to pretend they are Ok when they are not Ok.

I remember once,  a guy who told me he was not interested in having a girlfriend loaned my phone to send a text.  I had a look at it later (he should have deleted it).  It was, of course of a romantic nature to a lady.

I used to get really upset when people lied to me, taking it personally and all the rest.  Now (always assuming it is not a really close friend) I guess I just feel sad.  It is Adam and Eve covering up in the garden, hiding their face from the Lord,  it is the polititian,  actor, footballer, famous person who lies to try to maintain their status. It's about them not anyone else.

God forbid that I should hide the truth about myself, from myself.  One day it will come back and bite me.