James’s Blog: Encouraged by the Past.

James’s Blog: Encouraged by the Past.

I’ve touched on this subject before. A while ago I wrote about how beneficial journaling has been to me over the years, while more recently I wrote about the way that the past can ambush you and make you feel irrationally discouraged.

When I say that the past can ambush you, it’s really your memory of the past that is doing the ambushing, and your memory is pretty good at lying. A year or so after I started journaling I decided that I would set myself a task in response to what God was doing in my life at that time. I made a list of all the Bible passages I could find that related to the topic of ‘suffering’, and decided I’d study them. By that, I mean I spent a week on each passage (regardless of length) and jotted down my thoughts and conclusions on how it related to the subject at hand. I took some time off in the middle of it all somewhere, but in two and a half years I had applied this method of study to 72 different passages from the Bible.

Recently, I’ve been revisiting those passages and my studies. Like most things that we did when we were younger, there’s a bit of embarassment in facing up to it. I didn’t really understand much when then, but I thought I did. The difference now is that I know I don’t. But still, there’s some good stuff in there, and this time I find myself being ambushed by unexpected wisdom. When I remember those days, my memory doesn’t always paint me in a particularly good light. When I actually read what was going on, and not just remember it, I surprise myself. God has always believed in me more than I have.

However, the cherry/icing/giant sparkler on the cake was on the very first page. Before I began the studies, I wrote a little introduction explaining what I was doing and what my goals were – and that stuff is excellent. I mean, what I hoped for and desired 24 years ago is pretty much unchanged from what I hope for and desire now. It almost brought a tear to my eye to read how earnest young James was, and how much of young James is still here in the heart of old(er) James. And it encouraged me, because it made me realise that – despite my youth and the things I wrote that are a million miles away from what I would write or think now – there was a solid, unbreakable core in that fragile young man, and that core would carry me all the way through the years, half-way across the the world and back again, to where I am now…and that same passion is what will carry me the rest of the way. It was a surprise to me, but God’s always known.

James’s Blog: The Ballad of the Handyman.

James’s Blog:  The Ballad of the Handyman.
The workshop smelt of oil and sweat, Of stone and wood and clay. The tools of many disciplines, Around, about they lay. The handyman, he raised his head: “How may I help today?” Read more

James’s Blog: Three Years a Blogger.

James’s Blog: Three Years a Blogger.

Blogging is not rocket science (unless you’re a rocket scientist who’s blogging about rocket science), but even the simplest things can take their toll over a prolonged period. It’s been three years now. Three years. Three years of tapping away each week on my keyboard and releasing something into the cyberwild. At times it feels like pitching rocks into a river on a dark night – there may be ripples, but there’s no way of telling. Unless you can see in the dark – maybe with some kind of night vision goggles. I don’t know, this simile is getting away from me. Read more

James’s Blog: Throwaway Encouragements.

James’s Blog:  Throwaway Encouragements.

I am in favour of throwaway encouragements. A throwaway encouragement is a kind word that you slip into conversation, and then move on. A throwaway encouragement is not given in response to someone fishing for compliments. Part of its magic comes from it being unexpected. Furthermore, it must not be dwelt upon – it is given in passing and then the conversation moves on. The hearer is not given a chance to respond. Finally, it must also be true. Insisting that a tone-deaf person is actually a fantastic singer is an unkindness, both to the recipient of the lie and the victims of their newly encouraged talent.

Throwaway encouragements are one way of fulfilling Paul’s injunction to be kind to one another. They can be an unexpected lift to someone’s day; but more than that, they can actually be the catalyst for a significant change in someone’s thinking. Often, we are blind to the things that are obvious to everyone around us, or get stuck in a pattern of seeing things a certain way, and a throwaway encouragement may be the crowbar that springs open a new door.

If you know someone quite well, I’m sure that you can think of a smash and grab positive to dump into their lap while you’re on your way somewhere else. I believe that you have the potential to make a real difference to the people who cross your path. Now, let’s talk about something else, shall we?

James’s Blog: Another Lost Argument.

James’s Blog:  Another Lost Argument.

“Why don’t you do something, God?”

“Like what?”

“Well, I don’t know. Something. Anything!”

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s someone who really needs to know that you love them, God. Someone who really needs your help.”

“What should I do, then?”

“Well, something that makes them feel loved.”

“Like what?”

“Well-”

“Should I give them a hug, perhaps? Write them a note telling them that I’m thinking of them? Give them a gift?”

“I suppose-”

“Sometimes all it takes is a smile, you know. Someone smiling at you can make a lot of difference. Should I smile at them, James?”

“I-”

“Because I do. You know that, right? You know that. How about a kind word? That can work wonders. A timely dose of kindness to a wounded soul can turn a broken man into a saint, can’t it? Or have you forgotten that whole pear thing?”

“No, but-”

“Every day I whisper love to people’s hearts. Sometimes I shout. But people aren’t always listening. There are always so many other things they’d rather listen to. And I made a decision a long time ago, a decision to delegate. Delegation is an act of trust, which is an act of love, you see.”

“I know-”

“And I could, I could reach out my arms and take the whole world into a hug, and draw it near to my beating heart and drown out everything else with my love, I could, and one day I will, but for now I have no arms and I have no smile. I gave those things away, James. I gave those things away a long time ago. Do you know who I gave them to, James? Do you?”

“I think-”

“That’s right. I gave them to you, and your brothers and sisters. I didn’t just give you peace and forgiveness and hope, I gave you responsibility. I gave you my arms and my feet and my smile and I said, ‘Here you go. You’re in charge of these now. Use them wisely.’ I delegated.”

“All right, I-”

“I am at work, James. I’m always speaking, always reminding a stubborn world that I’m here. But I’ve got an idea, James, about this person who needs to know my love. Do you want to hear my idea?”

“…”

“Do you, James?”

“Yes, God.”

“Well then, here it is. Are you ready?”

“Yes, God.”

“Why don’t you do something?”

James’s Blog: Anyone for Seconds?

James’s Blog:  Anyone for Seconds?

Daisy wiped the tear from her cheek with a perfect white handkerchief.

“I know you all understand my struggle. It’s just so…so hard,” she said. “Oh, that sounds silly. To say it’s ‘hard’. I just don’t know any other word.”

“It’s a perfectly good word,” said Thomas, reaching out and patting her on the shoulder.

“And it’s perfectly accurate,” said Maureen, her lips stretched in a thin line. Daisy nodded glumly.

Maureen continued. “That’s why we’re here. To support and help one another. We all understand. We ‘re all in the same boat here at the Over Eighteens.”

The Over Eighteens had been meeting weekly at Thomas’s house for the past year. There were seven of them. Daisy, Maureen and, of course, Thomas were the founding members. Billy (no-one called him William) and his wife Trish joined soon after, shortly followed by George. Jayne (yes, that was how she spelled it) was new to the group. This was her first meeting.

Every Thursday morning they gathered around the coffee table in Thomas’s lounge, squeezed on sofas (and chairs brought in from the dining room) and encouraged one another. That was the purpose of the group, to share and encourage, and to share and encourage in one particular struggle. The name Over Eighteens referred not to age, but to weight. The only thing in the group that could be called thin was Maureen’s lips. Everyone bore the same burden, of struggling with their size.

Thomas glanced at his watch.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He looked over at Jayne. “It’s been excellent to have you here this morning, Jayne. We always finish with a…well, I guess you could call it a creed of sorts. We say it together, you know, to make us all feel like we’re united in this.”

Jayne nodded nervously.

“Just listen, and you’ll pick it up soon enough,” Thomas said, nodding at the rest of the group.

“We agree that we’re overweight,” the group said, in unison. “But we don’t want to be. We’d like to be thin. In the meantime, we will support each other, listen to each other’s struggles without judgement, encourage each other and look forward to the day when we are all our perfect weight.”

Silence settled on the thoughtful group.

“Now,” said Thomas, clapping his hands together, “who wants a cup of tea?”

There was a chorus of responses as Thomas stood up and moved through to the kitchen.

“You should come over for dinner sometime, love,” said Trish, smiling at Jayne.

“That would be nice, “ said Jayne, smiling back.

“Cor, yes, I love it when we have guests,” said Billy. “Trish always goes to town with the deserts!”

“I’m surprised you have any room left for desert,” interjected George. “After all, I saw how much you put away at the All You Can Eat Pizza Buffet yesterday!”

“You can talk!” said Billy, laughing.

Thomas returned from kitchen.

“Kettle’s on,” he said, placing a huge, heavy plate on the coffee table. On the plate was the biggest chocolate cake that Jayne had ever seen. “Who wants a slice?”

Hands shot up around the room. Jayne kept her hand down.

“Ummmmm,” she said, as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin.

“Go on,” said Maureen, smiling with those thin lips. “Have some. Thomas is a fantastic baker.”

“I’m sure he is, but…” Jayne stopped.

“But what?” said Daisy.

“Well, shouldn’t we…well, I’m trying to diet.” Jayne bowed her head, as though she’d confessed to some awful crime.

“Oh, of course you are,” said George. “We’re all trying to diet, aren’t we?”

Ernest nods and grunts of agreement.

“The thing is,” said Daisy. Jayne looked up to see her wiping a thick smear of chocolate icing from her cheek with that no-longer perfect white handkerchief. “The thing is, that it’s difficult, isn’t it?”

More nods and grunts.

“After all, that’s why we’re here. Because it’s hard, as Daisy said earlier,” said Thomas.

“We’re all in favour of diets. That’s what we’re all after – the ultimate goal is losing weight – but it’s not quite that simple, is it?” said Daisy.

“I don’t know what I’d do without this group,” said Trish, through a mouthful of smushed chocolate cake, “to lift my spirits and help me feel better about things.”

“That’s right,” said Thomas, nodding. “That’s absolutely right.”

Jayne looked around at the group, as they grinned at her, encouragingly. She knew that she would feel more encouraged if they didn’t all have chocolate-stained teeth. She made a decision.

“It’s been lovely to meet you all,” Jayne said, standing up. “But I have to go now. The truth is, I think I’m in the wrong group.”

The gathering sat in silence as she left the room. After a short moment they heard the front door slam.

“That’s a shame,” said Thomas. “Now, who’s for seconds?”

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