Open Doors

During the Homily in the Mass for the beginning of the pontificate, Pope John Paul II said..."Do not be afraid! Open, in deed, open wide the doors to Christ! Open to his saving power... " It is a phrase that has stayed with me strongly since 2005 when it was the theme to the ARC Renewal Communities annual conference. 2005 was a faith turning point for me. Not exactly a road to Damascus experience but definitely a 'aha' moment. A moment where I truly realised that 'do not be afraid' and 'open wide the doors to Christ' the doors of my life, the door of my heart, the doors of my spirituality, meant exactly that. The experience is often called a 'head-to-heart drop' when something that you knew intellectually becomes real in a very personal way.

On Tuesday the phrase sprang to mind again but in relation to a totally different, if related topic. The children were at an art class, the shopping was complete and there was still an hour and a quarter before they needed picking up. On my way out of Aldi I spotted a sign for a Catholic Church and thought that's what I would like to do. Sit in the quiet of a church building, in the presence of God and just be for a while in the middle of my busy day. I found the church easily, it was modern, circular with a central altar a bit like the cathedral in Liverpool. It looked beautiful, peaceful and cold and dark. I could only see this from the outside of course BECAUSE THE DOORS WERE LOCKED.

I took care to check every church I drove past on the way back to pick the kids up.

They were all locked, every denomination.

I could have knocked on the pesbytry door, if tehre was someone there they may have let me in but I chose not. I felt intimidated and shy. I am not shy and very comfotable both in teh comapny of priests and in a religious setting

In the end I sat in the car, in the car park outside art and prayed the rosary. And as I prayed I contemplated. We all know the practical reasons why churches are locked, theft, vandalism, the difficulties of heating and maintenance. However country churches manage somehow to leave churches unlocked for visitors to admire the art and architecture and maybe say a quick prayer or two. One may argue that there are fewer challenges in rural areas. But there is a real need here. I cannot be the only person in the whole of England who would like a place where I could pop in to pray when I have a minute.

Maybe we need a little imagination and rather than just accepting that our churches must be closed to keep them sacred we need to come up with alternative solutions that allow us to keep our holy places holy but still keep them accessible. A few ideas: most presbyteries are large and underutilised, could a room be set aside during office hours that is open and available for the public to come a pray, a comfortable peaceful, prayerful room with comfortable chairs,  a prayerful focus, some bibles and hymn books and some soft lighting. Does the church have a side chapel that could be made accessible while keeping the rest of the church closed? Could we have a pastoral area centre where there is a room always open for prayer? Could a parishioner open up a room in their home for prayer, or an annex or garage that is no longer used that people could have access to without impinging on the privacy of the householder.

If our churches, our thin places, our sacred and holy places are closed even to those who worship there, unless they have a prior appointment, what hope have we of showing the all consuming all embracing love of Jesus. If I who am a regular church goer and a lover of Jesus feel intimidated knocking on a priests door to ask for access, how much more difficult will it be for someone who is scared and vulnerable and in desperate need of God? We are judged by our welcome and our openness, we need to get our churches open again!!

2011/2012

For all of us it is a time of looking back and assessing where we are, where we have been, where we want to be. As I blogged back in September 2011 has been a time of upheaval and change through which I have grown and changed. At the beginning of 2011 I had a Grandma, a dog, three children living at home, a thriving worship band/music group called 'The Leap of faith', a busy home education life and absolutely no tie to myself.

In the course of 2011, once child has flown to build her own life at uni, the dog had to be put down, My Grandma passed away, the worship band is now a duo that has no church to play in. I still however have a very busy home ed life and I have managed to carve out some time for myself. 2011 has brought healing, deeper friendships and relationships, lots of things made (some of which I have managed to post on the blog). We now have a straw bale office in the back garden which is water tight (if not yet finished). I have had a song published at heartnotes ministries which is opening up some exciting possibilities for the year to come.

So what are the goals for this year?

Well I am 38 in March and I always promised myself I would get fit before I was 40, so I have begun to prioritise exercise. I also am finding it difficult to get out of bed and pray so I am committing to get to Mass during the week more often to give God some time. I am going to be able to read music by next new year.

Most importantly however I am going to practise mindfulness. For those who don't know mindfulness is a technique used by most of the worlds major religions. I came across it through the mystics of the catholic church all of whom practise mindfulness of one kind or another and from the book 'The naked now' by Richard Rohr (who is awesome and needs to be read by everybody. Most often however it is associated with Buddhism and essentially means living in the present moment, fully aware of what you are doing. Most of us live in the past or the future, bothering over past mistakes however small, or planning for a future we may never have.

To live in the present moment is extremely difficult and something I can only hope to begin to work towards. Just the other day I had gone to the shops and spent the whole trip bothering about how things were at home. My mundane trip to the bank could have been transformed into a different experience, I might have noticed the weather, a flower, an old friend, someone who needed a little help, something might have given me pause for thought but I missed all of those opportunities because I was bothering about what I could neither change nor control at that particular moment.

So hopefully a little less of that and some more... well I wonder...

Journeys

The boys and I have just been on a journey. We are currently in Brighton visiting friends which, of course entails vast quantities of driving in order to get here. I realised that along with a now older less dependent family there are a few perks. One of which is that a five hour drive to Brighton is no longer a military operation for which I must steal myself for days with organisational skills that would shame the military. In fact I can, almost, pack and go. Granted we did leave the camera behind - again!!! but otherwise we arrived intact with nothing major forgotten, nor major arguments (unless you count the usual leaving the house melt down that seems to accompany us on every journey, often even ones of half an hour or less.

In fact it was very pleasant despite that fact that the first national trust place we stopped at did not open on Mondays and we had to forgo our  sophisticated leg stretch and frothy coffee for a decaff in a local greasy spoon, still a step up from motorway services even if they do have an M&S. we arrive in Oxford for our long stop and found that the Ashmolean was also shut on a Monday and all the tourist tours were full. Sounds nightmarish when I write it down but in fact we had a lovely day. We diverted to the Natural History Museum and the Pit River Museum instead which were fabulous!!! And I mean FABULOUS. The displays were what I thought of as stuffy and old, lots of glass cases with dead stuffed things in them, but there were so cleverly arranged and described that they provoked thought and educated you just by being in the room. Even the pillars holding up the room were made from different rock from round Britain and they were all labelled with type of stone and where they were from. Animals were presented in formal classification with fossils in the same class/order.genus being presented alongside animals that we recognise. There was so much stuffed into such a small space (along with hundreds of kids on half term - a big downside for us) that in the end we were overwhelmed and left. We hardly saw any of the Pitt Rivers collection which was behind all the natural history stuff and that was more interesting- half a million objects donated to the museum by Mr Pit Rivers (whose full name is impossible to remember) on condition that they be housed in a museum for public viewing and displayed according to category rather than age or culture which is more unusual 'in order to display the sheer ingenuity of humanity' (quoted from the guide leaflet). In comparison to the recent revamp of Manchester Museum, which I have not seen for myself but have heard hideous things about, it was gold dust. Maybe the bods at Manchester could take some time to nip down to Oxford and take a peek, preferably in half term when you cannot move for kids and exasperated people who have forgotten it is half term, something that sadly cannot be said for Manchester Museum any more.

Also impressive about Oxford is it's terribly efficient park and ride scheme. Once we were in the city centre we could see why it has had to become so good but we parked the car for £1.50  for the full day, the kids were free on the bus and I was £2.20 return. I can't get to the local shops for that near us, not with the children with me.

And so we have arrived in Brighton. I have spent the day ignoring children and reading 'how to be a woman' by Caitlin Moran which could lead me into all kinds of feminist rants but i really don't feel like it. We all know being a woman is both fabulous and desperate at the same time usually and while I am a flag waving feminist, I appear to have left my flag at home. The children have spent they day with their friends making a movie, well they have made the trailer for it and it is fab, all black and white mood shots. Sadly no-one knows how to post it in the net but we will have a DVD by the end of the week to bring home and show off with.

Moving on

I haven't blogged in so long I hardly know where to start. There is so much going on just now it is hard to know which bit to write about. I have finished another baby blanket and sent it off to baby Katie. I made the pattern up so it is a bit 'hit and miss' in places and would be difficult for anyone else to replicate with any accuracy (or should I say without the mistakes) but on the whole I am pleased with it.

I have moved on to yet another blanket for a friend's baby and a teddy for her older sister. The teddy is finished but I will post a pic when the blanket is finished so I can post about them both together.

The Sports Star has left for Uni which is a massive moving on moment for all of us. All is going well at the moment, she has settled in and is enjoying it all, doing loads of sport, winning competitions, getting her head round lectures and a new way of working. She has been lucky with flat mates who appear to be reasonably like minded and she has not gone far away from home which I think has made it easier for all of us.

The Music Man has suddenly grown up, also moving on in many ways. In the last month, he has started a paper round which sees him up at 6:30 every morning so he has much more day to fill. At the moment that seems to be with excessive guitar playing and Warhammer. He will also be moving into his room in the next week (as soon as I have made the curtains), the first time he has had a room of his own since his little brother was born.The Artist also seems more grown up, less of  a little kid and he too is looking forward to a room of his own and the chance to decorate it how he wants.

I am now in an all male household. So far it doesn't feel much different although I do miss the female company. I am moving on in many ways. I am now a mum to older children, indeed to one young woman who is making it on her own. The relationships are changing. However I don't seem to have any more time on my hands. I guess the home ed keeps me hands on for much longer than most parents can expect. That said I have just spent the day making a Lord of the Rings version of Monopoly with the Artist so there must be some time available, even if it very quickly swallowed.

I am also moving on in my spiritual life. Not necessarily by choice this time. The Vatican has (finally) issued a new missal, the words to the Mass that I have grown up with are no more. They are not totally different but different enough to make me think. This is a good thing. Except I am not so sure about some of the changes and very unsure of the reason behind them. Some of this is natural reticence about the change of something so familiar and loved, but some of it is grounded deeper. I will post more about it in the coming days but for now I have a lot to think about. In addition our parish church has closed on health and safety grounds and no one is sure whether the closure is permanent though it doesn't look good just now.

In fact so many things are different in my life that I feel like I have picked up someone else's along the way; as if somewhere during the summer holidays I went away and came back with the wrong luggage. Two children at home not three, no parish community to speak of, a grown daughter, an unfamiliar form of worship. God has pulled the rug out from under my feet all at once and I am yet to find out where I will land. We shall see. I am still singing, still knitting, still frantically trying to meet all my commitments, still going to Mass even though it feels odd to just sit in the bench and not be involved. I miss the praise and even though 'A leap of faith' is still going we may need a new name if we can no longer sing praise music as well as the secular. All will be well.

On the March

Ok so I haven't posted for a while. Partly I have been too busy doing to write about it and partly there hasn't been much to say. Today however we joined 35,000 other people on the streets of Manchester to protest against the cuts imposed by the government on the opening day of the Tory party conference. The children dressed themselves as zombies - the generation of the living dead thanks to the massive cuts that have been made and the burden of financial responsibility that will fall on their shoulders as they mature into adulthood.

I had to ask myself some serious questions before going on this march. What did I really think? Previous demo's I have been on have been to do with climate change, third world poverty and more recently cuts in local services that directly affect me and mine. All issues that easily motivate me to get out on the streets and protest. This however felt a little different. I didn't necessarily agree with the aims and objectives of the organising group, in fact I didn't actually know what they were to begin with. I don't necessarily disagree with everything the conservatives have done. Protesting on the streets of Manchester is a very public statement so I weighed my options - admittedly only after the children had already decided they were going.

On balance there are many reasons to protest

The original meaning of the word protest is to bear witness for something, before someone. In that context on Sunday I marched to bear witness to the damage that far reaching cuts are doing to our country and to the damage they will do in the future.  I marched because people who have poor opportunities have had their opportunities reduced even further. I marched because young people have lost community groups that offered protection from gangs, university is now and unattainable goal, and EMA a thing of the past. I marched because university education will now be a means to get a job rather than a valued end in its own right and much knowledge that is not financially useful will be lost. I marched because my parents will now be unable to claim their full pensions along with many others who were just about to retire. I marched because climate change  - the most important issue to face our world to date- will now fall off the agenda in an effort to keep countries solvent. I marched because I want children who are interested and engaged with the political process that affects how they can live their lives. I marched because I do not want to loose the right to public protest and if we don't use it we WILL loose it especially in the light of Augusts riots. I marched because desperate parents have lost the support of their sure start centres as they are closed one by one. I marched because children in my local area who congregate in the library for want of somewhere else to go where someone is interested in them, will now have nowhere to go because our libraries are closing. I marched because for the first time the prospects of the generation to come are less than my own.

I did NOT march to overthrow the government or because I thought my little voice would change the mind of the government. I did not march because I agreed with all the aims and agendas of the different groups represented in the protest. If I waited for that I would never do anything. I did not march because I think the Tories are scum and I did not march because I am disaffected, dissatisfied or just generally angry.

Regardless of the outcome of the protest it has value in its own right. Jesus called us to bear witness to the truth. Many years ago a man named William Wilberforce did just that. It took over 20 years but in the end slavery was abolished. The more people remain silent, the longer we sit at home wringing our hands at the state of the world, the longer it will take.

The next demo is the one in support of the general strike called for November 30th. Will I go? Not sure yet. Probably. Do I agree with a general strike? Not sure but I know that the right to strike is fundamental and I have spent time with people from developing countries who do not have that right, people who look to our past and what the trade unions achieved for us to inspire them to fight for decent wages and working conditions. I think really we are all the same and that is all we are asking.

Sam

Today is a sad day in our house. The lovely Sam, our faithful hound has gone to sleep forever.

Never a spot of bother. Always ready for a walk. Now he's gone and the house is a little quieter than it ought to be, a little less lived in. He was far too ill to carry on but the decision to take the life of another animal is hideous, just putting him in the car felt like the ultimate betrayal of loyalty and trust. I was a sobbing wreck in the waiting room so they found me somewhere to sit with him and the wait was endless. The hardest part was ringing the vet in the fist place; to take that decision. Now there are lots of little sadnesses. The Artist went outside to the trampoline and there was no click of claws on the laminate to see if anything interesting was happening. I had to throw out food after tea and no one came to hoover up the dropped chips while the evening meal was being cooked.

The thing is I was never soppy about our Sam, in fact I probably felt the restrictions of having a dog more than most in the family possibly because I have never had a responsibility like that before, but, as with most mum's I know in a family where there is a dog, I probably did the most with him, most regularly. So despite not being a soppy crazy dog owner, I am really, really sad. So is The Artist who has preserved a few clumps of hair. The others are managing better; The Sports Star and The Music Man are that little bit older and realised to some extent what it means when a dog is to ill even to stand. Dh has done this before, he grew up with cats and the dogs of relatives. So The Artist and I have spent the day watching TV, making costumes for the upcoming Manchester parade, eating whatever we fancy... looking after ourselves a little.

and finally....

Some completed projects

A loopy tea cosy for a friend.

Have also completed cushion covers for the front room (which have been on the jobs list for twelve months) and new covers for the chairs in the kitchenn (Jobs list since Christmas). However the picture have been mysteriously deleted from the camera before they have been downloaded and so I cannot share.



Chasing bees

A couple of thursday's ago I took my camera for a walk. Having dropped the children off at the sports centre I had two hours to kill. Normally I go for a nice coffee and sit with some knitting but I wanted to use the time differently.

 It felt kind of odd, going for a purposeless walk by myself. For me much of the joy of walking is in the shared experience so to set off in a strange place with no place to get to felt, well just weird. At the very least there is usually the dog with me.
I tried to look for beautiful things to take pictures of, but I was trying too hard. It seemed like an age before I relaxed into just being in the space, and the thing that did it in the end was trying to follow a bee. This bee was whizzing about between blackberry flowers going about it's business, but it was far too quick for my amateur attempts at wildlife photography. Every time I got the camera even close to the right flower, the bee had already moved on.

As you can probably see I am no photographer, but the photo's are not really the point of the exercise, taking pics just gave me a focus and when I am focused I am in the present moment. I lost all sense of time trying to get a picture of that bee, I lost the sense of it being a bit odd to be out on my own doing nothing in particular, I lost the sense of the time constraints of needing to pick up the children. My whole world became getting a picture of that bee. Like the world of a toddler or child at play.

I even chased a different bee in my determination to get a good bee picture. In the end the best picture was of a flower. I have always loved daisies, they make me feel cheerful, childlike. they are so bright and sunny, really simple to draw and really abundant at this time of year.

And I did loose track of time I only wandered for half an hour!! It felt like I had been chasing the bee for twice that time at least. When I arrived back at the car bothered that I might be late for the kids, I was really surprised to find I had been out so short a time. The moment had passed though and I went back to my knitting and my coffee.

 I had thought I might be inspired by my walk into something creative, or that I might come home somehow changed and ultra-relaxed. In the end I think the value was in getting right into the hear and now, right into those moments when I was unaware of my surroundings, the inevitable joggers and dog walkers, the weather, the time - just focused on that bee. There is a real knack to this present moment stuff, it takes practise to be really present to what you are doing but it brings peace, breeds contentment and puts to rest some of that striving that we all spend so much time doing.