Tag Archives: passionate

Cheesy songs and sticky notes

18 Aug

I struggle to remember birthdays and dates. I’ve not got myself into serious trouble yet but there’s always time! Telephone numbers, pin codes and anniversaries – it’s good to be able to recall them at that exact moment you need them. Failure may result in finding yourself red faced at the end of the checkout queue or hurriedly Googling ‘fathers day’ dates (you just missed it by the way).

But what about bible verses? My childhood is filled with memories of Sunday school where we sang verses in the hopes that we would remember them for the next week – fueled by the promise of sweeties!

So that was then, but how about now? How often do we make a conscious note to remember a verse? Keeping them close to our hearts and ready to be accessed when we need it in a wobbly moment, in a text of encouragement to a friend or in prayer?

There are many verses that encourage us in memorising scripture, and emphasise the importance of doing so. In Colossians 3:16 (NIV), Paul tells the church to ‘Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom’. He is promising that if we dwell on God’s word, the Holy Spirit will bring it to mind at the appropriate time. The more we know, the more we can recall!

God word was written for us, and we were made to require the insight and wisdom it offers. Romans 15:4 (NIV) says that ‘everything that was written in the past was written top teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the scriptures and the encouragement they provide, we might have hope’. The bible is there to give us hope, guidance, counsel, renewal and joy. The more we read, meditate and know it, the closer we will be to God.

These are just two reasons among many as to why we should be memorising scripture. So, grab a bible, find a verse that jumps out at you and memorise it in whatever way is best for you – cheesy songs or bright pink sticky notes!

Here’s a good one to begin with

‘The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore’. Psalm 121:7-8



Why clouds make me uncomfortable

20 Sep

Isn’t there something incredible about just lifting our eyes and looking to the sky?

I don’t do it often enough.

A canvas of colour, an ever-changing mystery that transforms regularly from the mundane to the breathtaking.

It puts things into perspective, reminds me that there is more to this life than the me-centered world that I live in. It acts as a metaphorical kick in the backside. It reminds me that my world is not the only one. In fact, it reminds me how small I am. How very, very small. How insignificant, vulnerable and temporary I am.

So why would I want to do this more often? Why would I want to glance up to a sky that reminds me of my fragility, and my morality? It’s uncomfortable revelation, but it changes the way I see things, the way I live.

I want to be challenged.

How would our world change if we each took more time to look at the sky, feel the uncomfortable feeling that comes with knowing how small we are, and how temporary. Would we live for different things? Live our lives in different ways? Not wait until our death beds to utter those famous words –

‘If only…’

Would we live more intentionally?

I have memories as a child, of sitting on the garden bench with my Dad during thunder storms. Watching the lightening fork down to the ground.

Beautiful and terrifying.

Proof of the truth that we are living in a world that is more powerful and unknown than we comprehend. We are not all there is. We can only explore, document and ‘know so much’. We will never fully understand. We are small.

Is life really lost by dying? Or is it lost second by second, hour by hour – those days that we haven’t truly lived, but let slip away. Just another day. Maybe days could mean more than just another page of a diary, a crossed off square on a planner.

There are a million ways to waste and lose a day. And not a single way to get it back.

Many of us are waiting for life to begin.

When I move home. That’s when.
When I get married. That’s when.
When I have a baby. That’s when.
When I have paid my debt. That’s when.
When I retire. That’s when.

What if our only real obstacle, for living. Really living. Was our choice to wait.

I want a Kingdom perspective, a heaven bound life. A day that counts, changes something, someone. Somewhere.
I want to use my gifts, talents and passions to LIVE. Really live. I want to be challenged and moved. Out of selfishness, short-sightedness, closed-mindedness. Out of letting life slip by, gifts unused, untouched. People unchanged.

So, every day this week. I will look at the sky. And I will be challenged, and hopefully changed.

Because, in the end, the way we spend our day, is the way we spend our life.

I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of (Jesus)

Goodbye airs and graces. Goodbye British-ness

14 Sep

I have seen three couples arguing in the streets today. Three! Not just having tense conversation in stage whispered tones. But arguing, really arguing. Picture the girl crying, tears and snot streaming. Ranting passionately, angrily, whilst the bloke is standing there (in one case) arms outstretched in confusion as to why his girlfriend feels it appropriate for such a display of emotion in a such a public place.

Why couldn’t she wait until we got home? Or at least drag me down a side street for some privacy. Where are these tissues all girls are meant to carry around in their ridiculously large bags. This is embarrassing.

And it made me think.

What is it about arguing outdoors, in clear view of people? Us Brits who blush at the thought of a wardrobe malfunction or a huge, angry, red spot. Who would, on a normal day, do everything in our power to avert glares and chatter from passers-by. Passion, that’s what it is! Despair and anger that seem to override social awareness and the ability to go red in the cheeks.

But there’s something about the vulnerability of a girl’s tears and shouts being displayed so publicly. And the thing is, it was never meant to happen that way! I imagine they set out for an enjoyable day of sightseeing, until hormones or late busses, downpours of rain and tired feet turn words into accusations and ‘final straws’.

I don’t know why I’m siding with the men on this one! Maybe it’s because these blokes seemed so unsure and surprised by this display. Maybe it’s because I’m a girl, and yes I’ve been there. That sense of urgency and despair, the lack of brief questioning as to whether this is really the time or place (albeit neither), the poor guy trying to satiate me whilst I make an unabridged public display. The tissues? I didn’t even bother looking.

Once the sobs subside and the post bawl headache kicks in. So do the red cheeks and the fear that someone you know may have seen you. The British-ness returns and you promise yourself that you will never ever do that again.