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Disentitled

If the word even exists then that is how I feel right now. Disentitled to even have feelings about this subject or an opinion or anything at all. It is unacceptable to feel helpless or overpowered or overwhelmed or anything that implies that the situation in Afghanistan is putting me at some disadvantage.

There aren’t words so I sprawl onto this page, trying in some way to make sense of a situation where I sit at my table doing finances with a breakfast tea and a banana when there are dads and sons and sisters and daughters 5000 miles away whose entire lives are being destroyed, tortured and ripped apart. Its 20 to 5 in the evening in Kabul. We exist on the same day, on the same planet. Its the 16th August 2021 and we all need to eat, cry, work, study. Someone smarter than me once wrote that we are not free until all of us are free.

I completely understand how people will look at this situation and reject the idea that any form of a God could exist. How could a God allow this much suffering? I firmly believe in Him. Mainly because when I can’t see any sense in a situation I must believe that something bigger than me is in charge. I don’t know the answers to any of the questions and what I see is a world crying out. A world which we did not believe could break anymore has completely broken. There is nothing I can do and there is nothing we can do but I will pray. I will pray when my faith is small. I will pray even if it seems like nothing will change. I will pray because prayer changes me. Prayer brings hope.

Pray. The powers of the world have abandoned Afghanistan - God has not.

Sometimes, when I get mad.

Sometimes, when I get mad

You can hear it coming a mile off

It starts as a gentle hiss, a change in the winds direction - something signals from afar - something is off.

Sometimes, when I get mad, an army blazes across my forehead, marching two by two with steel capped boots. A blitz.

Sometimes, when I get mad, I sink ships. I burn bridges. I colour the sky red and black.

Sometimes, when I get mad, I scream.

I am angry person. I have no idea why. Well actually I do. My centre of gravity shifts to the left. Life is not ‘well with my soul.’

I am angry that I am helpless

I am angry she skipped the queue

I am angry that my mum left me

I am angry that people don’t vaccinate their babies

I am angry that I am alone

I am more angry when people surround me and expect things of me

Anger is my sword against a world that plays with guns. It feels strong. It feels powerful. Anger can pack a punch so why shouldn’t I be angry? Why shouldn’t I fight back.

Sometimes, when I’m mad, I ignore people

Sometimes, when I’m mad, I yell at people

Sometimes, when I’m mad, I act unprofessionally

Sometimes, when I’m mad, I lose me

Anger is powerful. It will eat you up and spit you out again. Anger will colour your entire world red and black. It can bring much needed action to helpless situations.

But if I let it go

It will burn my fucking house down

Anyways to finish

Sometimes, when I get mad, I’ll try not to be a dick about it.

Because Sid says he reads my blog

Someone recently shared on instagram ‘I would love to be mysterious as fuck but I can’t shut up.’ My radio silence on the blog doesn’t mean I have nothing to say. I unfortunately can not structure my thoughts and so I blab some of my best stuff to uninterested colleagues and yell it in my sleep instead of sitting down, unpacking it and sorting it out.

I have spent most of my last few months in a constant existential crisis about turning 30 and all of the lives I could have lived and wow yes I am really a decent bit through my life. Here I will messily insert a snippet from my prayer journal this am

‘Stop waiting and start living. As you are saying - we are already going through this life. No starting again. No do over. So stop clinging to the sides of the chute. It won’t slow it down. Just let go and let God. And smile. And look around.’

I’m reminded of water slides in Aquadome, Inverness and actually just any tunnel anyone has ever gone through of any size. I ran through the Clyde Tunnel once. It was never ending and frankly terrifying. The point is that we don’t stop we keep going. Like a river, life is fluid. Stop wondering if you are in the right stream and start looking around Meg cause you are missing it. You are missing the view.

At my birthday many people honoured me for being authentically me. I have this cushion from Ikea. Its red and mustard yellow and it has shapes and its bold. I bought it because I thought it was unique. Then I saw my sister in Texas has one and then I saw it on a tv show. My point? Stop doing stuff you think will get you ahead of the trend or fits in with an individual yet tasteful feel. I don’t even know the proper language to use.

I’m working on not doing stuff because people will think I am authentic and real and actually just being authentic and real because I am doing what brings me joy. Who gives a crap if your house or your prayer time or your garden is insta perfect? Do you even fucking LIKE roses? Aren’t they just the most pretentious uppity flowers there are?

Anyway I have a fast of the furious marathon to end with my brother so I’m signing off and I’m vowing to come on more regularly.

Thanks Sid.

7/6 A different life

I received a text today. From myself. A year ago. It said

‘Hi Meg. It’s Meg from a year ago today. Write your blog’

*in* your blog past Meg. I decided last year that every year I will write ten things I have learnt/ know to be true. It seems a good a time as any to reflect, so here goes

1. ‘Loving myself might be harder than loving someone else’ I am still trying.

2. If you get the opportunity to move to the front line of anything say YES. As we get older, more will hinder us from moving to the front. I had the opportunity to go and work in intensive care from my clinic job this year. It battered me and stretched me.

3. Babies take over everything.

4. Forming habits does not bore us if they are life giving. The first thing I do every morning is pray and drink a pint of water. It’s ok just to have grace and a plan for the day. There will be more grace and more plans in tomorrow.

5. Doing the job you are given well is a form of excellence

6. I started running this year and it has taught me that the mind will quit a million times before the body, so keeping pushing yourself. ‘Don’t fear moving slowly, fear standing still.’ Kathleen Harris

7. I lost some weight this year and it taught me that losing weight doesn’t make you happy. It actually made me more self conscious. I learned to comment on the inside, not the outside of a person.

8. I got really into Korean culture this year, food, Kpop (BTS), language the whole deal. It taught me the importance of appreciating and learning from different cultures and countries. It made me realise how uneducated and how privileged I am because I am white and because I speak English. It also taught me that no matter how much I may want to be Korean - there are certain divides that are more difficult to cross than others. Ultimately it healed me because I realised as humans we have so much more in common than what divides us. Check out BTS. They have a beautiful message.

9. We lose some and we gain some and sometimes we lose and gain the same thing over and over. That is life. If you want a lesson in it - watch Mulan (2009 - not the cartoon) Bring your tissues and appreciate the beauty of heroism.

10. Big Bear Bakery almond croissants are the greatest baked goods on the planet.

7/6 A full life

A life that is good. The ups and downs of life never seek to amaze me. One minute I am overwhelmed with gratitude and the next I am overcome with anger, when regarding the cards in my hand. I just finished a book, a sequel to an incredible bestseller, which was full of the author’s own self importance. It was painful to read, there was too much colouring the words. I will never be a great writer, no matter how hard I try. I will never be fiercely intelligent or full of wisdom but I am practical. If nothing else, give me a spade. So I want my writing to be practical and so every year, for my own amusement, I’m going to write what I know. What I have experienced. What I am grateful for. 10 simple rules. 7 things I hate about you. All of the above.

1. Eat your dinner at the table and with people. Savour food and conversation.

2. Grief for me has equalled growth. I would not be the person I was today if I had not been through suffering. I am grateful for my grief and that does not mean I am grateful for my loss.

3. We are all educators and we don’t need degrees.

4. Buy your dad a beer and your mum a glass of wine today in gratitude that they made you self aware. I have done this. Awareness of the way we come across is one of life’s greatest gifts and it is usually taught from a young age. So teach your kids to be self aware.

5. STOP BUYING SINGLE USE WATER BOTTLES. There are so many simple steps we all can take to care for our planet .

6. I have learnt this year that I need to view travel as an opportunity and not a chore or a means to an end. There are so many people and experiences out there if I go out of my door with an open mind.

7. Sometimes I apologise even if I don’t mean it for the sake of preserving a relationship. I’m not actually advising this I’m just saying that caring more about a principle than a person has harmed me in the past.

8. It’s ok to want things that other people have and not to want things you are expected to want but it’s very important to live in the present because things are things and life is happening right now.

9. Being authentically you is one of the biggest things I have learnt this year. I am stubborn. I am Christian. I am loyal. I don’t like the pub or parties. I am kind. I am harsh. Everyone is a big mix of good and bad so do give second and third chances. Take people as you find them and you will always get strengths and weaknesses. If we judged people only on their weaknesses we would have no friends. This is really important for people you are getting to know. People will SURPRISE you.

10. I’ve saved the best till last. If you love someone - tell them. Now more than ever people need to know that they are loved and they are seen. Tell them even if you just feel it sometimes. Tell them even if it’ll cause trouble. Tell them even if you’ve never told anyone that before. Tell them even if they can’t hear it. Tell them.

'This life will fly by, but we are living our lives for the next.' DC

Nice one Dan I think as I squint at the words, overlooking the pond at queens park. It's a remarkably mild December night. I'm still scared of all the murderers and rapists I've been taught about so I meander over to a bus stop on pollokshaws road. Less poetic but hey at least I can now see the writing in front of my face. The bus stop offers space that adoration finishing early and jobsworth old church ladies does not. I don't know why I had to add in old. I know they're old, you know they're old, yer maw knows they're old. And yet - I still mad.

My clothing is ridiculous I'm red white and blue striped top and ripped jeans and converse. Red converse cause if its good enough for Lana del Rey in her 'Born to Die video - it's frankly too good for Meg Jackson. I glance at my four chins in the reflection of the bus stop and silently curse my pale Scottish skin. Tanned girls can pull off as many chins as they like.

I have to move. The idea darts about so I get up and then sit back down. I consider the how and the why and the where. I shut down all options. Lebanon, Belfast, Dallas. All terrible ideas. I shuffle and get comfortable in my seat. Am I really serving or just administrating? Am I content with 9-5 or am I settling?

WHO AM I SAVING RIGHT NOW?? And when did I start thinking I did all the saving? What did I do to deserve the people that love me so well and when will net finances start to fill the part of the brain that dolly parton loving gastro guy is inhabiting?

Where am I going? I am at a bus stop. This is so prophetic I CANT STAND IT.

Neilston is an option. I'm not not saying I'm going to Neilston.

I'm just saying. Why can I not be more generous. When did I start letting church seasons slip by. How does one support parents? Or parent? Why is it a responsibility and if it is a responsibility - who are we forgetting? Who invented red pepper and feta dip? Why are people chopping down trees somewhere? I LOVE THE TREES.

I am the last person they'll expect to leave because I am the last person I would expect to leave and I usually have good instinct for these things. When did I start caring about them.

I'm still at a bus stop for those who care. It's 20.35 and I've missed three buses so far.

My anchor.

‘The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want..’ Psalm 23.

One of the best known psalms in the bible. Do I believe it? There is plenty that I want right about now. I want to stop exploding at my family and everyone within 5 feet every time I hear the word wedding, think about the word wedding, walk by a church. I want to have my work organised. I want to be in control. I want someone to talk to who will listen to me and not challenge everything I say.

There is nothing I shall want. I’ve been challenged in this because I always remember at the end of an argument that a relationship is worth more. I remember after to bring the Lord into the now. I forget. I don’t listen. I don’t care and I struggle with the fact that I don’t always care. How am I viewed? There are many people in a much worse mental state than me, who believe the world is better off without them. My heart aches for them. I glimpse it now, because I never once questioned how people view me. I didn’t care. I keep out of their way, they keep out of mine. I think I make for pretty bad company that way. Often I dodge a conversation completely because i can’t be bothered. Why do I assume that the other person feels the same? How does that show love?

I am often too practical and not enough love. I am often too in my head and not enough out there loving people. I think I do care. I think I care a lot. When your practised in the art of just disappearing it can be difficult to start making a sound.

The Lord is my shepherd. He is the one I must look to when nobody understands, when I lose control, when I explode. He will fulfil that need. He will ease that burden. He does care.

Often we are tossed about by waves which merge pain and joy and sorrow and laughter. We gasp for breath, unsure whether we will smile or cry. Life will continue this way until we grab an anchor. Of course, the Lord is an anchor. The ultimate anchor. There are times though, late at night, when I question if the Lord will ever send me another anchor. An anchor I’ve been waiting for. It’s pretty painful to wait for this and to see everyone else stable. I have no answers for those who are waiting on whatever it is that is going to anchor them. All I can say is anchors are probably overrated. And yes, I will keep praying for mine.

Oh well in 3 years time..

Just over 3 years ago I wrote,

‘ The truth is that if I accept that my mum has cancer I must also accept that I might lose her. And I can’t lose her....So I guess just now I don’t want to talk about it because I would have to accept that I’m not okay. If she dies, I’ll never be okay. That I know.’

3 years ago on Tuesday I wrote,

‘I feel like I’m behind bars and I swear if I ever get out - I won’t patronise the ones left behind. I won’t tell them it’s all going to be ok. God willing I’ll be tolerant and loving. I had a really terrible nightshift with two deaths. So the next day I went to see my mum and I told people that I was going to see how she was getting on with chemo. Really I just wanted her to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. But she wasn’t okay. She had her head on my shoulder and was crying and I was telling her it was going to be okay. But I didn’t know that and it scared me. ‘

I then go on to talk about how I will play one direction at my wedding reception because it lifted me up on that day. Stranger things have happened. We have a wedding coming up in our family. It’s a beautiful Sunday evening and I’m writing because I got out. I’m writing because I don’t say often enough how blessed I am.

Gratitude is an extraordinary thing. My gratitude, over the last few years, stemmed from me telling myself I had a lot to be thankful for. This evening - I am filled with gratitude because I am me. I am filled with gratitude and I feel it, right down to my toes. My heart breaks for the girl who wrote those lines 3 years ago. It absolutely breaks because she was so lost and in so much pain. I’m proud of her because she stuck around. I pray tonight for all those who are grieving because it shatters us. Please keep being there, world, for all those who are lost, all those who are trying to put themselves back together. It’s a longer road than we plan on, but we will get there.

Silence

I’ve just finished some actual work. If you know me - you know how rare an occurrence this is. I’m calling bullshit on my past self who said that she could study while listening to music. It’s in the rare fleeting moments of actual work, that the music is turned off.

Interestingly, there is nothing lonelier than emerging from your work, back to where you started, with just silence all around you. It actually made me a bit emotional. I get scared that it’s just me, on my own, feeling like I’m all on my own.

Two people walk in - splitting a Chinese and the silence disappears. It is replaced by a warmth and a friendship and a sense of being part of something. They don’t engage with me and I don’t engage with them in any deep meaningful way but I know that we are part of one another. It sticks.

So today, I am grateful for all the non-verbal expressions of love I have received. Today someone hugged me and they held their face up against mine, not with a kiss or a word, just a closeness that let me know that they were there - that filled me with a warmth words cannot express. Today someone reached out their hand to me when the priest had moved on with the mass to let me know they noticed me. Today a song was played that had been in my head for the two minutes prior. Every non-verbal communication of love I received today was a reminder that silence is not scary. It is beautiful.

736 days

Or 63,590,400 seconds. I just find it interesting how time passes. Sometimes I feel like it’s more and sometimes I wonder how so many days have passed and so many seconds and minutes and I haven’t figured it out. You know ‘it.’ Whatever the magical solution is that will make everything alright and hard words palatable and difficult moments bearable and joyful moments magical and all that God gives irresistible.

I gave myself time and space. Plen-ty of time and space. I gave myself time to laugh and cry and watch Vampire Diaries and gain half a stone and have a fringe and read a lot and change jobs and take it easy. No problem there. I’m looking back at the last 736 days and I know I’ve made a lot of positive changes. Sometimes I wonder if I could have tried a bit harder. Loved a bit more. Given others some space.

Cause at the end of 736 days - it still hurts. I still want her back. I still miss her. I still wish with every fibre of my being that she was here for Christmas. It doesn’t go away. I’ve learned to function. I have a lock and a key and I just shut those feelings up. I let them out sometimes and grieve but not all the time and rarely when others are looking. I’ve been taught that it is not acceptable to be stuck in the past. We have a great fear of missing out, we are always looking to the next thing, next opportunity, what’s in it for us. Those who spend their lives grieving will never truly live. What would your mum want you to do? Person I barely know - she would tell me not to listen to you.

Pain surrounds all of us. ‘Pain demands to be felt.’ Pain warns the body that something is wrong. Pain is a protective mechanism, physical pain tells us that something in the body is wrong and must be looked at. Emotional pain is no different, the body aches for what it has lost. The pain remains as long as the loss is felt. When my mum died, she took part of me with her. The part that expected a happily ever after and a safety net. I resented God for that, I blamed him for my cynicism and bitterness. I’m starting to realise that this is not all bad. The world is not all sunshine and rainbows and happily ever afters. I am currently living a happily ever after story that so many people would love to end up in. I needed a wake up to the pain that surrounds us. I can empathise with those who are broken because I now know and feel my brokenness - I am no longer blind to it. I can see other people’s pain and all it’s colours a little better now. It would be daft not to use your own experiences to help others. That’s what my mum would do.

She would let others know they are not alone.

Ali Jackson 10.5.66 - 12.12.15

Anne with an E

I’m currently watching the Netflix revival of Anne of Green Gables and I love it. It’s nothing like the original and that is the beauty of it. It’s fresh, it’s quirky and it has the most beautiful backdrop you’ve ever seen.

Tonight my heart is breaking. My heart is breaking for the fictional character of Walter Blythe who died in the first world war, a dreamer and an intellect. Not fictional, however, because 18 million people died in the first world war. Approximately 60 million died in the second world war. 18 year old kids. They were kids. They had just started living when they died on fields in France and Poland and Germany. Tonight it is breaking my heart.

Grief is the price of love. We are so blind to the death and hardship and pain which surrounds us, all over this planet. There are tornados and hurricanes and genocides and until it hits us smack in the face - we largely ignore it. There has to be something wrong with this picture.

As Anne would say ‘Tomorrow is a new day. With no mistakes in it’ We need to start by breaking our hearts for what is going on in the world. Maybe if enough people cared, things will start to change.

Another country song

I told myself I don’t like country…I ain’t exactly Miss Congenial…I told myself I don’t phone people up that I don’t know…Life ain’t always roses and pantyhose…I told myself that I wasn’t brave or beautiful…I’d rather lose for what I am than win for what I ain’t.

Here the thing though, you can’t just go round fitting yourself into boxes. Saying ‘I will never…’ or ‘I am not…’ isn’t always helpful. You should NEVER place limitations on yourself. I’m an introvert, so I can’t talk to you right now. I can’t hold a tune so I won’t bother singing. I get nervous so I will never speak in public. I’m selfish, so I can’t put others first. I have other gifts…

Life is constantly evolving and changing, as are we. It’s ok to have roots, but don’t get stuck. It’s ok to change your mind and admit you’re a sucker for a bit of Darius Rucker.

Sweet dreams are made of this

The Oxford Dictionary definition of a dream is ‘a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occuring in a person’s mind during sleep.’ We also define dreams as our cherished aspirations, our perfect life, our expert plans. Our dreams happen when we look up.

I am not a dreamer. I fall asleep at midnight and will spend 6-12 hours in a comatose state. Nothing going on except the body doing its natural thing during sleep. But occasionally, in times of change or uncertainty - I dream. The last few weeks I’ve had dreams of my mum. The dreams were not memories, they were snapshots of what life would have been. The first few dreams - we knew she was dying. Someone was getting married and we all knew she wouldn’t live to see a grandchild. Last night, my dream was present day. She was alive, and I felt different. I felt loved and safe in a way that I have not felt in a very long time. There’s a way a mum loves her children that’s very real, very practical, very tangible, very pro-active. It’s not something you can describe. It is something you feel. And I felt it when I woke up this morning. Now, it’s only a passing memory. The active part of it is gone.

When mum died, many people told me she would continue to love me from heaven. What they did not realise is that heaven is very far away. I think that I felt what I felt last night to comfort and sustain me for the change that is happening and continues to happen. I am very grateful to have had a mother who loved me. And a dad who continues to love me and protect me.

Those who lose a mum or dad lose a very big part of their safety and security in who they are. No amount of reminding them of that is going to replace that feeling which is now just a memory. You have to LOVE them and be their security. You cannot replace it but you must do something. You cannot run. There are many people whose parents die without conflicts being resolved, without relationships being resolved. Again, reminding them that they were loved is not going to resolve the relationship. You must LOVE them and be their security.

As Christians we often say ‘death is not THE end.’ But it is AN end. There is a severing of ties, an unplanned farewell and a gaping aching hole left. Time frames are put in place, excuses are made, relationships are dissolved, a lot of pain and suffering is undergone.

If we are going to properly look after each other as we navigate this heartbreaking reality of life, we have to try and LOVE the person. Not fix them. Not hand them off. Not dismiss or excuse them. We can run, but we have to face up to the fact that death comes to us all.

‘His grief he will not forget: but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom’ JRR Tolkien.

Pause. Breathe.

As I come to the end of what may seem like an ENDLESS stream of blogs on my mum and grief I would like to post a fun fact on death. I love fun facts. Ok, it’s not really a fun fact. I just love a fun fact. So fun fact on death - it CHANGES you. Ok, sorry i probably should have said this is actually a fun fact on grief. Cause you’re probably thinking ‘no shit sherlock. It changes you from someone pink and generally communicative to someone grey and generally...not...communicative. Nope, definitely not communicative. Yeah, grief changes you! You might never have considered changing yourself ever and then bam - forced on you! How fun is that! You might have talked about changing yourself, you might have tried it, you might have wished but you wouldn’t have seen it through cause you would have been scared. Yet, I stand here - a changed woman. I am no longer scared of what people think of me, I don’t panic when people honk their horns and I don’t stress when I need to talk to families about their complaints. I’m not afraid of change. Of new jobs, of trying something temporary, of pushing the boundaries of security and of saying ‘Hey world, know that Meg Jackson you knew and loved. She isn’t here. You are stuck with me. In some ways better, in some ways worse, in some ways exactly the same.’ I know how short life is so I don’t sit around and expect life to be nice to me. I know life is short so I don’t put pressure on myself to be someone that I’m not. I am unapologetic-ally ME. It’s freeing in a way.

So yeah, its not all shit. Man, I always feel better after I write it down.

27th April 2017

We all have those times when we disappoint ourselves. I went into something today and had a mind blank. I let myself down. Feeling down is never permanent. Regardless, we all have things we reach for to pick ourselves up. For me - it’s books. It’s always been books.

It’s usually Waterstones on Argyle Street. I walk in and feel at home. I am greeted by old friends and new ones, despite there being no other person in my section. Books are living beings. They transport you to impossible places and unreachable times. They are alive with possibility. I visit them all, touch them, open them, read them. I feel safe among books. Hopkins, depicting Lewis in ‘Shadowlands’ says ‘We read to know we are not alone.’ Some of my most precious moments are reading books and saying ‘THAT is exactly how I feel.’ This author understands ME. You do not have to be in direct conversation with someone to feel understood.

When the visit is over, I bid farewell to my friends. I exchange banter with the glasses wearing, freckle faced, funny, happy gent at the cash desk. He doesn’t realise that he has the best job in the world as he chats about ‘The girl of ink and stars’ and deplores the fact that he just keeps re-reading the same novels. I hear you Scott. I hear you. I grasp my stack and head through the doors. It’s always hard to leave and go back to reality. Reality does not comfort or confide, it doesn’t fit like a glove and it isn’t warm and fuzzy. It’s currently stark and bleak. Stark and bleak, and I am armed with colour. It’s payday. We’ll be okay.

22nd Jan 17

You have to say things. Then moment passes and then we are alone again.

So I believe the Holy Spirit came down powerfully yesterday - it felt a wee bit like something took over my body and suddenly I became Grandma. I’m sure it was the Lord because it wasn’t me. A gift came into my head straight away ‘wisdom.’ When I was praying I felt my heart - physically - and I think the Lord was doing something about healing my heart...

ctd. 7.2.17

...and the pain. I feel he was healing my brokenness and letting me know that my capacity to love is not restricted, in fact it may be enlarged. That was a fantastic weekend. I’m sitting in the cathedral right now trying to do an Ignatian meditation on the Samaritan woman (John 4). The sinner that she is, with the brass neck to question the Lord and when he shows her this great power - she believes. She accepts the gift and she runs and tells everyone she can. There is something about receiving the Lord in that way that changes us. Changes us so that things HAVE to change. The power of the Spirit at that weekend was tangible. It says in John 4 - ‘my people will worship in Spirit and in truth.’ The Lord desires us to worship Him in the Spirit. It connects us to something past ourselves and reminds us that this Earth is not the end, not the final destination. The most important thing is to get to heaven.

Also I was in London for a few days. I went on a walk in the pouring rain. It was not intentional that it would be a prayer walk - I’m sure that if I had any idea where I was going I would have hi-hoed to a shelter but despite this fact - the Lord found me and spoke to me. I took out my rage on Him and He absorbed it. I demanded answers and He quietly told me that even if He gave me answers - I would not understand or comprehend them. He knows me. Sometimes the Lord gently lets us know who’s in charge. It takes the burden from me, His shoulders can carry it. Again, the conversation - as it tends to do - rolled round to the marriage question. Who? When? Where? Why not now? For the first time - the Lord spoke. Not now. Not for a couple of years. No one you know. Not now. I know it sounds ridiculous but it was Him and it was a promise. He made it to give me peace. A gift He did not have to give. Sometimes I feel like God bends the rules for me, cause He loves me. You may argue the theology all day but I like to think He gave in a bit and thought ‘ah, what the heck! Fine. I’ll let you in.’ I’m sure it was my mum whispering in His ear. I don’t hold it too close. I hold it lightly. If anything - it gives me space to breath. It reminds me that He has a plan and the frustration I feel not knowing it all right now will always remain until I learn to trust Him completely.

Mum’s death was not about me. The Lord does not have to explain it to us. It was my mum’s time to die and her Father carried her through that with peace. My Father cares enough about me to carry me also. He has infinite patience and infinite belief in me. He has endless love for me and hope for me. He knows when I entered this world and He knows when I will leave it. He’s planning on being there for the whole performance. I can trust Him. He has never once left me alone. He is good. I love Him.

Why are you my clarity?

When life throws itself, bodily, on top of you, there’s not a whole ton you can do. I would recommend a bath. There’s something insanely clear and sure about submerging yourself in water - your senses are dulled and nothing else is happening in the world but your body under the water. Heavy legs can move freely and arms swing wildly. Well, one arm swings wildly. The other arm is busy ensuring that the thumb and index finger remain firmly pinching the nose. If the nose is not pinched, bubbles are blown and that just takes away from the seriousness of the moment. You could rhyme off a bunch of metaphors about how water is cleansing and pure and life-giving but that’s not really the point of the near drowning experience. The point is that you put yourself in a position where you cannot see hear smell taste or touch fully and when you break through the seal of water and shake your head - you can hear again, clearly. You open your eyes and your vision is crystal. You open your mouth and you can eat without risk of aspiration. You would not appreciate this, having not experienced the blind mute deaf experience. Not that being under water isn’t freeing. It is. It is also not conducive to life.

Let me assure you - you are alive. When life throws itself, bodily, on top of you, there’s not a whole ton you can do. You are alive. If uncertain of this fact - grab a stethoscope. In my line of work, stethoscopes hang about like a burst stoma bag. Not that I use them. We are not in the U S of A. The last time I used a stethoscope was about a month ago when I listened to someone’s fistula. If you are unsure of what a fistula is - I hope you remain ignorant. Anyway grab said stethoscope and place it on your left boob. Or left chest. You will hear a strong beat. That is your heart. It is pumping blood around your body. It is providing the ammunition for the rest of the body to secrete and filter and fire signals. When life throws itself, bodily, on top of you, there’s not a whole ton you can do. It is tempting to build a hole and decay there. You are alive and you have clarity of vision. This is an undeniable fact. You may wish that your heart will stop doing its job. You may decide that life would be easier lived underwater, senses dulled and vision blurry. That is not the purpose of the water.

Your heart will stop beating one day. That is an undeniable fact. There will come a day when you will no longer register as alive. This will happen to someone today. And tomorrow. But today that can not be said about me. It cannot be said about you. Today we are alive. So we have to live.

Happy Thanksgiving! *this post has nothing to do with Thanksgiving*

Why do I pray? What difference will it make? If God exists - why does he bother with me? These are not questions I ever pictured myself asking. OK, the 'if God exists' part was just for dramatic effect. I know God exists. The only proof I have is the life I've lived and the people in it. I'm not quite sure that God is loving and I'm pretty sure He has an agenda but I know He's there. Wherever 'there' is. It's pretty close to here. I was always told that a life following God is an adventure. If you know me, you can almost taste my reluctance to believe that. I did believe it. And now I don't. What right do I have to expect a husband, kids, a fulfilling enjoyable career? There's no logic to who gets the 'happily ever after.' The 'happily ever after' ain't always that happy. Tangent. But Damn it if I'm not going to push for happiness. Damn it if I'm not going to push for hope and the light in the darkness. I can handle physical pain. I'm fairly solid that way. The mental battle has exhausted me. It's time to focus on what I want for my life and go out and get it. And if I'm turned down, rejected, make a fool of myself - well, trust me I didn't bloody suffer this year for nothing. My identity has been shaped by me and confirmed again and again by my parents. It cannot be taken from me. I am loving. I am generous. I am compassionate. I can help people. I'm here for a purpose.

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