Legacy

1. Money or property bequeathed to another by will.

2. Something handed down from an ancestor or a predecessor or from the past

Possibly one of the reason’s I have been feeling wobbly lately is that I have just paid for a new audio visual system to be installed at church.

It’s not the sudden large withdrawal of funds from my savings account that have made my steps falter but the fact that this gift is my way of expressing Andrew’s legacy for the church he loved.

Andrew always believed that the church shouldn’t have to put up with second best and to that end he liked to give gifts of practical equipment rather than money. That way he knew that his hard earned cash was being spent on something he considered essential rather than added to a communal pot and frittered away on something he deemed less important!

Over the years we have added things to the media desk, usually unseen by most of the congregation but that was the way Andrew liked to do things, the least fuss the better.

Updating the media provision has been a long process, as with anything in the Church of England there are several hoops to be jumped through especially with regards to positioning a projector in an old building.

I first muted the idea in early 2011 and like so many steps along this journey of grief my thoughts and feelings have progressed through a range of emotions along the way.

I am a very different person to Andrew, I probably like to make too much of a show of things and put on a performance but as time has slowly passed I am just happy that the work is finally completed. 

There have been a few kind comments at my generosity and there has been some positive feedback from those who have noticed an improvement in sound and vision.

Whereas once I would have been stamping my feet demanding recognition, inwardly at least, now this is enough.

For a while I struggled with the idea of adding a plaque to the desk to show its pedigree. But the church doesn’t need another brass plate to be polished with Andrew’s name on. He would have hated the idea anyway.

Instead I am just going to make a sign and laminate it...

“Aborigines and jet engines”

One of Andrew Nicholson’s favourite sayings,

It means

Please don’t touch what you don’t understand!

Over time the sign may get lost but by then the fancy state of the art equipment will most likely be out of date and need replacing once again.

Andrew’s true legacy is so much more than a few new boxes of tricks and tidied cable (actually I am convinced we need to leave a few bits of straggly tangled wire lying around just for good measure!)

Meanwhile my mum has just finished her own family heirloom. A patchwork quilt we started over thirty years ago.

It has been a labour of love stitched by my mum, my grandad (who died over 20 years ago) and me. Each piece of fabric tells a story. Scraps left over from a skirt, a top, that pair of shorts I made when I was 16 that one day I will get back into – hahaha.

Most people will admire it, in the same way the new media desk will receive oohs and ahhs but the real legacy is something far more personal. 

It is all about creating something new from the love and memories left behind, a reminder for those of us involved that someone very special had a part to play in our lives and they will never be forgotten, while at the same time still moving forward.

where it all began...

On Friday I went to the Faith Stories book launch at Bishopthorpe Palace, the home of the Archbishop of York. The book was out yesterday so you can go out and buy it!

I’ve written about it before and how my story is in it but here is the video to accompany my story. So now you know what I look and sound like!

Because it is half term and York is kind of on the way, well in the right direction, I decided to visit my parents for a long weekend. My brother and his young son stayed Saturday night too and Sunday morning after they left I realised it was still early enough for me to go to church.

I don’t often visit this church but it is the one I grew up in, where I was baptised as a baby, where I was confirmed as a young teen and where as an older teen I would slide along the pew with my friends to see how many of us we could fit in a row!

The building holds special memories for me. As I sat there a stained glass window caught my eye. Part of the image is of a young woman with braided hair standing on tiptoe listening to Jesus. She is almost like an old friend to me.

It’s not just the building that evokes strong feelings; a church is really the people not he bricks and mortar.

The congregation has changed over the years, new people have come while others have left for pastures new, this side of heaven or the other.

Some of the congregation are like permanent fixtures, faithful and enduring.

At coffee time I sat with my old guide leader, my friend’s mum, a mother and daughter who always sat in the same pew as me and my grandma. Also there were my old youth leaders, a man who I once led the pathfinders group with and a woman who was my housegroup leader.

Before me were people who had a part in my upbringing, who remember me as a little girl or as a teenager or as a young adult before I left home and married.

I have fond memories of them all and enjoyed being in their company once more. I was almost the last to leave I was so busy chatting.

This is where my faith story really began and it was good to go back and remember.

Speaking Engagement

I’ve had a very interesting afternoon as I returned to the church I was a volunteer at over twenty years ago. Gosh that makes me sound really old but I am half the age of some of the regulars at the Ladies Meeting I was speaking at.

Yes that’s right I had my first proper public speaking engagement!

I’d been asked to speak years ago but chickened out – what did I have to say to these dear ladies? What wisdom could I impart?

Even today I was a little overawed.

Andrew spoke there once, telling them about life on an oil rig – they adored him with his wit and repartee. My mother-in-law reminded me of this fact before I went – not helpful as the tears started and remained close to the surface.

However it gave my talk a more personal slant as I skipped huge chunks from my notes and went slightly off at a tangent – always dangerous. I have led church services before but never done this “preachy” bit and I know from the past that my ability to “wing it” comes and goes.

Overall I loved the experience today, I was reminded how much I like standing up at the front and obviously as a writer I like to think I have a lot to say.

I spoke about 1 Peter chapter 1 verses 6 and 7.

“So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold – though your faith is far more precious than mere gold.”

I didn’t want to speak about the trials and testing bit, but opted to talk about the end of the verse “your faith is far more precious than mere gold”. These were the words that stood out to me a few months ago when I “found” this passage.

I talked about how precious gold is to us, Olympians compete for it, money men invest in it, but God sees our faith as being far more valuable.

Even when our faith is crumbling, small and insignificant, even when our faith lets us down.

There is a Sarah in the Bible and in the book of Hebrews she is listed as a great woman of faith and yet when we read her story in the Old Testament we see how her faith wavered.

She was promised a baby but because she was too old she offered her maid servant to her husband, thinking she would raise the child they had together.

As you can imagine this didn’t work out quite as neatly as planned, a very jealous Sarah banished mother and child. When Sarah eventually got pregnant she laughed not quite believing it was true. You can read all about her and her story in Genesis 16 – 21.

She was a woman who waited impatiently for her promised child while along the way she lied and doubted, she tried to second guess God and come up with her own plan and laughed at the very idea she would conceive.

Yet she makes it into the Hall of Faith in Hebrews, the list of the great and faithful. So there must have been a tiny bit of faith there all along, small and precious despite her human failings. I love her to bits!

I talked about my Easter holiday with the boys off school, of my own doubts and struggles, of feeling I can’t go on with this but how the story of my namesake Sarah keeps me hanging on, if only by a fingernail.

Deep down despite the trials I’ve had to face I believe that God is God and sometimes that is all the faith you need and in return God thinks it is more valuable than gold.

I don’t think there was a dry eye in the room – I never meant to make these ladies cry, the personal stuff crept in, I spoke from the heart just as I try to write here in this blog.

Shouldn’t you always write/speak of what you know?

They’ve invited me back, which must be a good sign and they gave me the church flowers.

I hope I blessed them in the words that I shared, I know they blessed me!

Men, Women and Church

I’m paying heed to Nicola Morgan‘s advice today from her blog post making your blog work. She writes “Don't make your title too obscure”. Blogs can be found easier on Google if your title matches your content.

So no fancy title today just exactly what it says on the tin.

OK so it may not be the most inspiring title but these are some of the thoughts that occurred to me yesterday as I sat in church.

Like most congregations ours is made up mostly of women. Single, married, widowed, old and young but very few men. Although there are some who come on their own most are accompanied by their wives and children.

It has always been quite common for a woman to go to church on a Sunday morning and take the children for their spiritual nourishment and good moral upbringing leaving her husband at home but it so rarely happens the other way round.

For some reason many churches don’t appear to engage with the male half of the population and as the mother of two sons this worries me for the future. I already have one son who won’t come to church unless I “make” him and the other one only comes to see his friends.

Not that that is a totally a bad thing, the best way I know to get teenage lads into churches is to make sure there are plenty of fanciable girls in the youth group.  I’ve heard several preachers talking about how they started attending church because of a particular girl. All that sliding along the pews to legitimately get closer. From experience I know you can squeeze more teenage bums in a row than adults.

It certainly always seems to be the females who entice their men to come along. God knew what he was doing when he created Eve and her tempting ways!

Andrew was a classic case of a disenchanted male only coaxed back to church by the love of a good woman.

He was brought up in a Christian home, regularly going to church. In his teenage years he was still going or at the very least was attached to the church youth group – from the information I have gathered and old friends who remember those years.

But as he got older church became less relevant for him and by the time we started dating he was on the very fringes of the church community, helping out with discos for the youngsters but not stepping inside the building on a Sunday.

Actually the first time I met him I was a volunteer at the church and on my first evening in the area had been taken along to the youth club disco to meet some of the young people. There he was playing the Bart Simpson record that was popular at the time convincing the kids that it was Bert not Bart and he lived next door. It’s funny the things you remember.

I persuaded Andrew to come to church with me almost as a condition of us going out! His faith which had always been there but lain dormant began to come alive. It took many years but looking back now with the wonderful gift of hindsight I can see where God was working in his life and how God had never let Andrew go.

One of the loveliest sights I spotted in church yesterday was a young couple sat next to each other a few rows in front of me.

I don’t know if it is just a phenomenon in our church but several married couples don’t actually sit together during the service. The women sit at the front with the kids while there is a hard-core male contingent sitting along the back row. 

Anyway this couple sat so close together, bodies overlapping, it was easy to imagine them holding hands during the sermon. It made me smile because that was how Andrew and I sat together in church. Fingers often entwined and when Andrew got particularly bored he would write “I LOVE YOU” with his index finger on the palm of my hand.

So there you are – my thoughts from yesterday once more leading all the way back to Andrew.

And one final thought, a verse from God that’s just popped into my head and I’ve looked up – thanks Google!

“See I have written you name on the palms of my hands.” 

Isaiah 49:16

Just as Andrew wrote his message of love on my hand, and it is still indelibly there, so God writes your name on his – man, woman or child. Whether sitting eagerly at the front or in the pew nearest the door ready for a speedy exit. Those inside the church and outside its walls – he has no favourites.

He remembers, reaches out and beckons you closer.

If only those of us inside the church could find a way to do the same…

ECHO

After the dedication a couple of weeks ago, performed by the Archbishop, today was the official open day for our new church hall extension. Finally the general public get a good look inside, although I confess I had had a sneaky look round weeks ago – you just have to know the right people!

The hall has been re-Christened ECHO which stands for Emmanuel Church Hall Outreach. I think it’s a great name and by itself it doesn’t sound too “churchy”. We want it to be a place where the community feels welcome. The building is well used and has kept open during the building work as much as possible.

ECHO was a project that Andrew firmly believed in. He was always of the opinion that the church should have the best facilities possible. Therefore he was keen to be involved with whatever fundraising he could do including organising a fantastic Christmas shopping trip to York. When he died I had no hesitation in saying any money donated in lieu of flowers should go towards the project.

As we wandered around the open spaces today we were invited to suggest a name for each room. I want something to recognise Andrew although he would probably not want any fuss made and think he wasn’t important enough.

It’s a difficult one with so many people being involved in the whole project over many years.  Everyone wants to carve the name of their loved one somewhere, metaphorically speaking of course.  A few faithful church members have died over the past few years and maybe we shouldn’t name rooms after them as it is picking favourites and someone somewhere will get upset and grumble or feel forgotten.

Perhaps we need quirky names that people can find their own meaning for, favourites of mine included The Jubilee Room, The Rainbow Room and The Bus Stop.

OK so the Bus Stop is my own quirky name for the computer room because Andrew drove a bus and that room would be his favourite space complete with a corner to hide behind.

A bus stop is a place of waiting to be taken on a journey. A spot to rest at before undertaking a new direction. Somewhere kids hangout and meet their friends.

Have I convinced you it’s a great name?

Meanwhile I looked up the word ECHO in the dictionary. There are many definitions but the one I like best is “something that evokes memories”.

Whatever we call the rooms we should never forget the past and the contribution of the people who have gone before. But let’s hope we are also creating happy memories to look back on in the future.