Visual Dare 19: Depth

Time to get my imagination back into gear and try another visual dare from Angela at Anonymous Legacy.

This weeks prompt is DEPTH with the picture prompt below.

“You know I hate heights!” She squealed as they stepped onto the high bridge.

“I won’t let go. Promise!”

His eyes were somewhere between a shade of dazzling green and solid earthy brown, sparkling yet dependable.

How did she get to be so lucky? Whisked half way round the world seeing sights she only ever dreamed of.

Cautiously she looked around her; this really was a view to take her breath away.

He stopped suddenly dropping to one knee, she thought to tie an unruly shoelace, but when he held out his hand she saw something glint in the sunlight…

Youngest son says "he pulls out a gun and shoots her in the head and she falls off the bridge well and truly dead!"

But what do you think?

The train now leaving the station…

A couple of facts about Andrew

1. He loved trains
2. He was engaged, about 10 years before I met him, in his early twenties

His love of trains was lifelong but his engagement ended when his fiancée went away to university and met someone else.

Before she decided switch platforms for another train in a different direction she started a tapestry of a train for Andrew.

Now I can’t honestly say how much she did but the story goes that although she started the project she never completed her handiwork and Andrew’s mum finished it off. It was framed by Andrew’s not-to-be father-in-law who always had a soft spot for him and it has always hung in our house.

When we moved I decided if it was staying it should be professionally framed. Andrew loved it too much to part with it.

Oh the things we do for love.

I even cross stitched my own train masterpiece while we were “courting” and I admit to liking some of the train pictures on our walls, particularly a black and white photo of some train points that we chose together, very arty!

However the large train tapestry, now beautifully framed, has been taken down for good. It was always going when we moved, a gift for Andrew’s brother to remember Andrew by. Now the house is off the market I have decided to make the home my own. A splash of paint here and there and a change of artwork to reflect my taste. 

It’s amazing how refreshing it is and how much of a lift I get titivating my own home and adding personal touches.

I always had a lot of say in the decorating. I usually won Andrew over with my choice of paint colours but now I have complete free reign and don’t have to consider anyone else in my decisions. OK so the boys still live here but ultimately it’s my house, my money and cushions and paint charts don’t excite them as much as they do me.

It’s one of the delights of being on your own and I’m going to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

One day I hope I’m not single but married again, then I shall live in the land of compromise once more. However I want to be satisfied that for this season I have coloured the world with my own unique style. Why? Well to borrow a well known popular phrase “because I'm worth it”!

So far it hasn’t involved a great deal of expense, I’ve just been moving things around a bit and hanging a couple of pictures I already had – just the joy of hammering in a nail is exhilarating.

As is painting and stripping wallpaper ... there are so many ideas in my head and I promise there will be more pictures to follow.

For now here’s a photo of the old train departing for pastures new...

off the wall and waiting on the floor in the hall!

... meanwhile it’s full steam ahead for my own new adventures, even if they are taking place in the comfort of my own home!

Olympic Lessons



Last night we sat and watched the Olympic closing ceremony. It was sad to see the flame finally extinguished, the fire that has travelled round the British Isles lighting up a nation.

The Olympics have been sensational, surpassing everyone’s expectations and now the talk is all about the legacy of the games and how we can inspire a generation.

My personal thoughts?

Well I will of course remember the marvellous spectacle of it all, the medals and the triumphs. We went to watch two of the early football matches and the atmosphere was fantastic. The memories of these past few weeks will live long.

However the real inspiration for me is the dedication of the athletes. So many medallists talked of their hard work to just get to this moment in time.

Mo Farrah attributed his gold medal success to lots of “hard work and graft.”

Samantha Murray who won our last medal of the games in the modern pentathlon said this after the event,

"Honestly, if you have a goal - if there's anything you want to achieve in life - don't let anybody get in your way. You can do it. If I can do it, and I'm a normal girl, anyone can do what they want to do."

I love her humility. Her sport is one of the multi-discipline events so it surely takes several skills to persevere and succeed. She was overwhelmed at her silver.

Meanwhile Tom Daley achieved a bronze but was no less delighted. Anyone who watched the diving on Saturday night will have been amazed at such a superb display. To see Tom and his team splashing about in the pool afterwards was the icing on the cake. He too has worked hard, having to deal with the emotions of losing his dad on top of his usual training schedule.

In the end the colour of the medal is irrelevant, each one is precious and a testament to the dedication of each athlete.

Many competitors will have gone home empty handed but they are no less successful. Several will have achieved their own personal bests in their chosen sports.

Women from some countries were competing in the Olympics for the very first time and they will not forget the privilege.

Each athlete is a star in their own right just for their hard work. They deserved to party last night in celebration.

It is this attitude of dedication that I want to live on. I know from personal experience that I can be lazy. I procrastinate and make excuses for not writing, for not reaching for my own dreams. Sometimes it all seems too hard and impossibly unattainable.

Hopefully London 2012 will inspire us all to stretch a little further and work a bit harder to grasp our own ambitions whatever they may be.

　

Blessings found in the bottom of a shopping trolley…

Have you ever collected a shopping trolley and found something interesting in the bottom?

I don’t just mean someone else’s shopping list, neither do I mean those adverts that have fallen out of magazines and been abandoned.

Have you ever found left over shopping?

When I went shopping while away at New Wine, I discovered a pack of 10 mini highlighter pens in the bottom of my trolley. There was no one around to give them back to so I popped them in my handbag.

This week I have been deliberating writing a post about my New Wine highlights. I decided it would be good to write one for every brightly coloured pen I'd "acquired"!

A list started to form in my head but I wondered if I could actually think of TEN outstanding, gold medal sized moments? 

Then other more pedantic thoughts occurred. There were some aspects of New Wine I was very grateful for; let's call those blessings – but when does a blessing become a highlight? Are they actually the same? It is just terminology, one word for the more spiritual events, the other for more ordinary happenings? Is a blessing perhaps a holy highlight?

All this pondering stopped me from actually writing and I’ve stopped writing for far too long so without anymore delay here’s my list…

1. My friend’s husband was on the site team and was there a whole week early, he took my tent and it was up and ready for my when I arrived!

2. Watching the Olympic Opening Ceremony on big screens in a packed room with hundreds of others was an amazing experience. We laughed together and stood for the national anthem, proud to be British!

3. Just being with friends for the week, I am thankful for cups of tea made for me and meals shared. Catching up with old friends and just picking up conversations where we left off.

4. Oldest son helping in one of the children’s groups. It was hard work for him having to just get up early every morning but I am so proud of him that he stuck with it.

5. Youngest son being well behaved, we didn’t have a major fall out this year, I never felt so overwhelmed I couldn’t cope.

6. The Arts Venue, the beauty created, watching my friend step out of her comfort zone and lead a workshop and weaving a prayer, peaceful and healing.

7. The Impact Venue where I worshipped and danced; the atmosphere there is amazing, full of God’s love and lots of laughter.

8. My evening of crying and talking to our previous vicar, I was feeling low and he listed all my good qualities – now I just have to believe I am this WONDERFUL person!

9. A seminar by Tina Hodge called “Taking Back What the Enemy has Stolen”. She signed my copy of her book with this inscription “I see new chapters opening for you through which the Lord is going to bless many – stay open to Him”. I am inspired! (you can read more about Tina’s work at lovef1rst.com)

10. And my bestest, bestest moment of the week: standing on the mainstage reading my poem “Jesus is an Action Man” in my friend Angus Bell’s seminar. An incredible feeling and affirmation that this is where I want to be and God is opening doors. My hands shook with nerves but my voice held as I read my words clearly.

Even after writing my list I have no conclusions to make over the difference between highlights and blessings but with a huge smile on my face I can recommend it’s always a good idea to…

HIGHLIGHT your BLESSINGS!

Rings and Things

While I was taking a break from writing there were still ideas buzzing round my head, a constant narrative explaining my thoughts and actions.

I’ve always been a person who likes to explain things, it’s just how I was made but it can leave me tied up in knots and exhausted.

When I was away on my holiday at Scargill House my most hated part was explaining that I was a widow. I found it traumatic to retell my story so many times (you can read my post about it here).

Over the next few weeks I made a huge decision to stop wearing my wedding and engagement rings. However I still wear my eternity ring on my right hand where it has always been as a symbol of the bond Andrew and I share forever.

“’Til death do us part” was the contract therefore I am no longer married and that throws up all kinds of emotions. Do I still feel married? Do I feel single? Where is my place in the world of relationships?

Wearing a wedding ring symbolises being in a relationship, a partnership, togetherness and I always knew I would remove it one day most likely when I was ready to embark on a quest for a new husband. I would love to be married again but I honestly don’t know how I would feel if a single man paid me any attention in that respect.

But somehow that’s OK. The rings are off and I am open to whatever happens, whoever comes my way. A friend has recommended another dating service for me to try, she’s met a wonderful man and I’m happy for her. However I feel it’s not the right time for me to look.

Last week at New Wine there were opportunities to share with other people and I could have easily unburdened my heart once more explaining I was a widow. Instead I chose to say I was a single parent.

There were no questions asked, people can think I am in any number of situations and suddenly I didn’t feel the need to explain. I don’t wear a wedding ring, I have two children and it’s now unimportant what others think of my relationship status.

It’s a large weight off my mind and a way for me to be me without the baggage of being widowed being the first thing people see.

There is one more thought I had about rings in those non-writing days, I remembered the tree being cut down and seeing the rings inside exposed. One for every year, a mark of growth, some close together and some spread further apart a sign of the lean years contrasting with the years of abundant growth.

Rings Together Forever

My own wedding ring fits perfectly inside Andrew’s, an image perhaps of Andrew’s love and protection around me or on the other hand the barriers and restrictions placed on my life by marriage?

There’s both good and bad in everything.

Maybe for me the good now is that I am less judgemental of single parents, I confess I’ve not always been kind or gracious in my thinking. Now they are the group I identify most with.

God smiles down in triumph once again – I am learning to love and accept in extraordinary ways.

Meanwhile my ring finger still bears a slight mark, a reminder of all that has gone before, just like the rings in a tree counting the years, the blessings and now cut down and open I can clearly see all that has been lost.

God in the shower

A camping holiday has its highs and lows but the state of the showers causes the most frequent grumblings.  Too hot, too cold, barely a dribble of water, muddy footprints and long queues – we rarely seem satisfied.

At New Wine there are thousands of people sharing adequate facilities, we should be grateful for what we’ve got.

Now I love a luxurious power shower as much as the next girl but this is camping and I change my style to “get in, get washed, get out”, a phrase often heard uttered in our house by youngest son as he attempts the world record for the fastest wash on record! 

One particular morning I knew my hair would last another day before a wash so even a trickle would be sufficient to make me feel clean enough to face the day.

There was one shower free and one lady waiting.

“That one’s not great,” she said, “just a dribble, I’m waiting for another one.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” I replied with bravado as I stripped off, prepared for the worst. Would I live to regret my words?

Now this was the morning after I had discovered the man of my dreams from last year was out of reach and married (read Saturday post The Fluff of Fantasy if you haven’t already).

The morning after God had whispered so quietly, “I have a better plan for you!”

I turned on the shower to the inevitable dribble but all of a sudden the jet of water filled out and I was standing under a perfectly cascading shower. OK so it wasn’t the best shower in the world ever but in that moment I knew that God was reminding me how much he has to give me. I’d freely accepted less than the best and He’d given me so much more.

It reminds me on some of my favourite verses from Ephesians chapter 3 verses 20-21

God can do anything you know – far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

A great thought to hold onto today as we wait for His blessings to pour down!

The Fluff of Fantasy

As I write this by old fashioned method of pen and paper I am sat in my tent on an airbed that refused to stay fully inflated!

We are away on our annual pilgrimage to Newark for the New Wine North and East conference.

This is our fourth year and I’m not getting any better at this camping lark. I still forget to bring the essentials and end up grabbing a cup of tea from anyone who has a boiling kettle. But that’s OK – this is Christian living in action!!!

However I am not writing to extol the virtues of community sharing and the pooling of resources. I NEED to tell you about something that happened one evening.

First you might like to go and read a post from last year Merry Christmas to a Stranger where I wrote about last year’s New Wine – or more particularly about a man who I thought would be more important in my life than he ever will be.

I thought at the time that we shared a look, a bond perhaps even a common experience (I first spotted him at a bereavement seminar). All year in the back of my head has been a giggly girlie waiting for our next meeting, creating potential out of nothing, like a teenager with a first crush.

Now I know it is just the fluff of fantasy, like candy floss in the rain it disintegrated before my very eyes when he sat in front of me in the evening meeting with his wife!

Now I knew he had a wedding ring on when I first caught sight of him last year but then so did I.

Sometimes I wonder at God’s sense of humour and timing. All evening I confess I watched him convincing myself he was the man I saw last year while erasing the dreams I had created.

I had a sense God told me he has someone even better lined up for me but I can’t fully believe, maybe that is the fluff of fantasy too?