Sunday, March 25, 2012

Be Still

 

I discovered another gem while I was rummaging through my old journals.

This was written on a one-day retreat I gave myself about 10 years ago.  I sat down in a room overlooking a garden, and tried to figure out how to spend this time.  I had with me my Bible, journal and my pencil case.  Now what? I asked myself.

You say:
            Be still.

I don’t know if I can remember how to do that Lord.
What must I do God?

You say:
                         Be still.

But surely I must do something Lord?
How shall I pray?
What should I read?
How do I meet you God?

You say:
                                          Be still.

Okay I’m still now Lord.
Now what do I do next God?

You say:
                                                         Be still.
                                                                       Be still.
                                                                                      Be still.

So….
             I stop fighting
                          Stop striving
                                       Stop trying to do the “right” thing
                                                     And wait.

You say:
              Be still.

You hold me.

You say:
              I am God.
                            I love you.

I am:
              Still.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Aspirations

 

I started picking through some dusty boxes at the back of the garage.  I opened each box, and rummaged through them.  I put aside one or two books, then repacked each box without finding what I was looking for.

Finally, after 5 boxes, I found my treasure trove.  Faded notebooks and diaries, dating back through to the early 1990’s. 

I read through the oldest journal, deciphering the faded blue ink, looking for a particular entry.

The year I was 18, I spend a week of my holidays in solitude, staying at a family property in the bush. 

I spent some time walking, but mostly reading my Bible, reflecting and praying, and looking at the number of pages written during that week, journaling.

I remember writing this particular entry.  I sat on the armchair, cross legged, my feet tucked under me.  I gazed periodically out the window at the forest clad valley.

25 November 1991
Jeremiah 29:11-13: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
My goals in life:
I aspire to be a woman of Integrity, Graciousness, Courage, Wisdom and Holiness.

21 years later, having finished the last page of my current journal, I open a new, empty notebook. 

On the first page, I re-write the goal I set myself at the beginning of my journey, to continue to remind myself of the kind of person I pray that I may become.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

One ha' penny, two ha' penny, Hot cross buns!

 

I haven’t done a product review before, so I’m not quite sure what I’m letting myself in for by agreeing to taste test Baker’s Delight Hot Cross Buns.

So first of all I lined up a taste testing panel, who waited eagerly for the delivery van.

According to that fount of all knowledge, Wikipedia, a Hot Cross Bun is a “sweet, yeast-leavened, spiced bun made with currants or raisins, often with candied citrus fruits, marked with a cross on the top. … In many historically Christian countries, buns are traditionally eaten hot or toasted on Good Friday, with the cross standing as a symbol of the Crucifixion.”

When I was growing up, Hot Cross Buns were reserved for Good Friday.  My favourite way of observing Good Friday begins with a sleep in, then a breakfast of Hot Cross Buns and strong coffee (especially when I’ve fasted from coffee during Lent) before heading off to Church for Good Friday service, and morning tea served afterwards of more Hot Cross Buns and more coffee.

I’m still not used to having them before Good Friday, but the rest of the family has no hesitations.

Miss Eight doesn’t like raisins, so was quite pleased that Bakers Delight had included a packet of Chocolate Chip buns, so they were the first ones in the oven.

And the results were well received:

Mister Three said “’Ummy” – and concentrated on eating the chocolate cross first.
The girls liked breaking theirs open and eating them in halves.  Miss Eight said “Double Thumbs Up”.  Miss Five didn’t say much, she was too busy eating.

My Husband and I grabbed a couple of the traditional fruit buns for our supper.  We didn’t bother heating them, and they were still very nice.  Husband commented that they had “substance” and were satisfyingly filling.

Wikipedea tells me that sharing a hot cross bun with another is supposed to ensure friendship throughout the coming year, particularly if "Half for you and half for me, Between us two shall goodwill be" is said at the time.

Yesterday we moved our office, from the temporary office in the upstairs room of the boss’ house to a converted house in the suburbs.  I took the rest of the buns to feed the team for morning tea.

Once I worked out where the switch to the oven was in the staff room:

Soon the fragrance of spiced buns wafted through to where we were all busy unpacking boxes of files.  The butter melted into the warmed buns.

Everyone appreciated their Hot Cross Buns.  There were lots of raisins, and just the right amount of spiciness.

Baker’s Delight are keen to let you know that hot cross bun cravings will be made all that much sweeter on Saturday March 24, as bakeries across New Zealand hand craft over 21,000 freshly baked hot cross buns to help raise valuable ‘dough’ for Starship Children’s Hospital.  ‘Bundraiser’ Day will see all 32 Bakers Delight bakeries across New Zealand, donate $1 from every six-pack of hot cross buns sold to hospitals across the country, helping make a difference to sick children this Easter.

Baker’s Delight have also given me three $10 Bakers Delight vouchers to giveaway to my readers so you can pick up some hot cross buns for your kids.

Comment on this post, telling me how and when you enjoy Hot Cross Buns in the lead up to Easter time; Is it with a warm cup of coffee for morning tea or straight after you buy them from the bakery? Do you heat up your Hot Cross Buns in the oven? Do you put a bit of butter on them?  I’ll be putting all NZ comments into a draw (sorry, I’m pretty sure the vouchers won’t work in Australia or elsewhere, but I’d still love to hear from you anyway).  Names will be announced on Wednesday.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Goodbye Old Friend

(Post Updated)
Goodbye, old friend,
you will be sadly missed.
Thank you for the memories:
Soft light shining through stained glass
Whispered echoes
Hush and prayer;
this is a Sacred place.
Grey stone and white stone,
Graceful arches
Soaring ceilings.
Now you lie crumpled, broken.
Pigeons roost in your rafters, open to the sky.
Steel bracing now twisted,
the treasured rose is shattered.
Where bells once pealed and stirred my soul
now empty sky and silence.
Where once buskers played
now seagulls roam an empty square.
Where market stalls bustled
now weeds grow through the cracks.
I came today to say goodbye,
but not farewell forever.
Once day hope and life will rise again,
and I will meet you then.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

A Holy Place


Photo: Ross Becker https://picasaweb.google.com/RossBeckerNZ

The announcement was made last week by Bishop Victoria Matthews that the earthquake damaged Christchurch Cathedral would need to be “deconstructed” to a safe height of 2-3 metres. 


Photo: Ross Becker https://picasaweb.google.com/RossBeckerNZ

Since then, there has been a strong public backlash, especially in the letters to our local newspaper.  Most of the negative comments appear to be from those that consider the Cathedral to be not so much a Church, but a heritage building, a city icon, a tourist draw card.  Most of the comments I’ve seen from Christians, both Anglican and otherwise, tend to be more supportive of the Anglican Church’s decision.  They perceive the Cathedral as being less important than the people that make up the Church, and the ministry of the churches throughout the city that have been supporting and helping each local community.  The little things you don’t see much of in the media like running community food banks.


Photo: Ross Becker https://picasaweb.google.com/RossBeckerNZ

It’s taken me a few days to unravel what I feel about it. 

When I journalled about this over the weekend, I remembered another Holy place I’d visited.  This was a temple that had been demolished by a roman army nearly 2000 years before I visited, and only one wall remained.  Yet that wall remained a place of remembrance and prayer.  I approached respectfully, and placed my hand on the stone blocks.  The stone was cool to touch, even though the climate was hotter than what I’m used to .  There was a sense of a powerful, Holy presence. 


Assorted photos taken by myself, and postcards purchased in 1998.

I’m grieving for the Cathedral.  But in my own opinion, it was more than just the building that made it special.  It had been a place of prayer and worship for several generations, and the spiritual atmosphere reflected that.  I don’t think a deconsecrating ceremony, or even deconstruction of the building will actually take that away.  And I can imagine that a new Cathedral, that perhaps echoes the old without being an exact replica, would also become a special place to pray and reflect.

In the meantime, I choose to remember the best of what was.

I’m wearing one of these

http://beadzunlimited.com/index.php/beadz/commemorative-beads/rose-window-pendant-sterling-silver-1.html

to remember this
 
Photos from http://www.christchurchcathedral.co.nz/About/Inside-the-Cathedral/The-Nave-Southern-Side

(For more information about the Christchurch Cathedral, and its rebuild, see http://www.christchurchcathedral.co.nz/)

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

God in the Cracks

 


Beauty among the ruins
Photo by
Ross Becker, photographer

Anita asked me to do a guest post on Dreaming Beneath the Spires. Come on over and read my post there, as well as some other amazing stories from other bloggers.  Thanks for inviting me Anita!


24 February 2011, I was sitting beside a rural road near Christchurch, New Zealand, hugging my knees to my chest and trying to cry.

Two days earlier I had been running for my life as my city came crashing to the ground around me. For the first two days I'd been concentrating so much on survival – walking 2 hours home, part of the way barefoot, then boiling rainwater we'd collected for using in the garden so we had something to drink, walking 5km to the only supermarket that was open to buy milk and bread. On this day, the emotions finally started catching up with me.

I sat surrounded by open fields and empty sky, yet every time I closed my eyes all I could see was the wall of a three story building toppling towards me in slow motion. There is still gritty dust through my hair, ears and fingernails. There is still no water supply, so no chance to wash, only hand sanitizer.

Sitting beside that farm gate, my guts ached with grief. It was a raw, bleeding, empty kind of feeling, like some part of my soul had been ripped out. I was seeking solitude to cry and pray, but tears wouldn't come, all I had was an aching pressure behind my eyes and a tightness in my chest.

I tried to pray, but words wouldn't come, and all I could feel was the pain in my spirit. All my mind can do is replay again and again my mind replayed the jolty jerky feeling in my stomach as the ground lurched beneath me.

I remembered a day in my late teens, more than 20 years ago, when I had also sought solitude, this time walking and sitting beside a river. There I had prayed for the first time, “God, I can't do this. I've made a mess of my life, so I'm handing my life over to you.” A promise came into my mind “Don't be afraid. I will never leave you or forsake you. No matter where you go or what happens I will never leave you.

In February 2011 I couldn't connect to God's presence, but I held onto the promise that he was still with me, carrying me through this valley of the shadow of death. Everything else has stripped away, but I cling onto Faith.

Since September 2010, my city has been experiencing an on-going seismic event. Some 10,000 aftershocks, 41 of them have been greater than magnitude 5. The most recent “big” one was a magnitude 6 on 23 December 2011. Even as I'm writing this I feel a vibration rumble past beneath me. I inhale and my stomach clenches, then it passes. (That was a magnitude 3.4, at 3km depth about 10km south of my house). Prior to September 2010, there had not been any significant earthquakes in the region for more than a century.

The past year, I've experienced the anxiety of going about life, never sure when the “next one” will come. I would go into shopping malls, and scan around to work out where the best “safe place” would be. I avoid brick walled buildings, crossing the street if I need to.

I've experienced watching the cranes and diggers and “munchers” demolish my city. Nearly 1400 commercial buildings either have been or are being deconstructed, many of them heritage buildings. The Cathedral that was the heart of my City lies in ruins, as the debate continues among both believers and non-believers for its future. 6,500 homes in the suburbs have been abandoned, the land unable to be rebuilt on. Others still await the assessment of their fate.

As the days and weeks went by. The tears came in their time, and I learned to grieve and lament. But prayer remained beyond my reach. I offered my tears as prayers, but the emptiness within me remained. “I know there is more than this. I've experienced God's presence in the past, and I long to find that again.”

And the quakes kept coming.

Winter came, and our house was not weather-tight – our chimney had collapsed leaving us without heating, and our roof covered by a tarpaulin. Rainwater dripped through the ceiling.

I was so thankful that our chimney was replaced by a steel flue and our wood-burner repaired in time for the “once in 50 years” blizzard that hit mid year. A month later we lived through a “once in 70 years” snow storm.

I strived to pray. I tried to find my soul again, but the sense of connecting with God was simply not there. I still felt hollow, like a part of me was missing. Then I realised I was trying to find God with my own effort. It's like trying to pull myself up with my shoelaces. “Lord, I can't do this. Only you can. I'm letting go. I am here, and I trust you.”

I was burnt out and exhausted. I had run out of “cope”. I went to work, I looked after my children, then once they were in their beds I would curl up on the sofa or on my bed. I'd try to lose myself in reading fiction. Anywhere but the here and now. I didn't even want to log onto my computer. I stopped writing and blogging. Everyone else I spoke to in Christchurch was experiencing the same kind of fatigue.

Recovery has come slowly. It has taken over a year since that day beside the rural road. Counselling has helped, as has asking as many people as I can to please pray for me. The difference came as I found myself space to be quiet and still. As I stopped trying to pray, I just sat and waited. “I am here, Lord.” In the stillness, I started to feel the smallest flicker, no more than a whisper of life within my spirit again. I found that I could pray again, and feel the response within my spirit again.

2012 is the year my city will begin its rebuild. It will never be the same as it was before the earthquakes, and tears come as I write that sentence, but what it will be is stronger, and better. My life will never be the same again, but God has stayed true to his promise. He never left me, and I know I will come through this stronger and better.

How you can help Christchurch recover:

  1. Pray. Pray for those who grieve for the 185 lives lost on 22nd February 2011. Pray for the injured, who are still recovering. Pray for those traumatised, the emotional wounds that for many are still raw. Those burnt out and exhausted. Pray for those struggling with insurance issues, and uncertainty about their future.

  1. Donations can be made through:

  • The Christchurch Earthquake Mayoral Relief Fund provides funding toward projects that contribute to the rebuilding of the social and physical infrastructure of Christchurch following the earthquakes.

  • The Red Cross 2011 Christchurch Earthquake Appeal is focused on welfare issues providing emergency & hardship grants as well as bereavement grants.

  • The Christchurch Earthquake Appeal (NZ Government) will help rebuild those things that are at the heart of Christchurch communities, the places and services that make a city worth living in; community facilities which took decades of fundraising to put in place, such as sports fields, parks, community buildings and historic buildings, which were ruined within hours.

Friday, February 24, 2012

That Day

There have been lots of memories in Christchurch this week, as we remember the 2011 Christchurch Earthquake a year go.


(Video from http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/christchurch-earthquake-2011/12-51/videos/6410834/That-day)

(Those observant readers who know me personally might spot yours truly in this video too)

I attended the memorial service on Wednesday.  It was a different mood from the one last year, more reflective  than intensely emotional.  I've not felt "ready" to watch the movie "When A City Falls" which was screened on TV3 - but I have recorded it to watch later when I am "ready".  I would recommend everyone outside of Christchurch see this too.

I've been feeling tired again this week.  It feels like a physical tiredness, but I do wonder whether the emotional energy is contributing too.  I've been taking things quietly and I'll catch up with you all again next week.