Monday, 31 May 2010


God reminded me yesterday, as I was shouting at Him, of a time a couple of weeks ago, when He found me on my knees, asking Him to break my heart. I was sick of apathy, sick of the lukewarm, sick of the monotony of half-prayers, sick of being drowsy and ephemeral.

My housemate has called me a 'little ball of righteous anger'. I'm not sure what I feel about this.

The past week, my soul's been torn up, twisted with such incomprehension in the face of rubbish stuff people are going through. In some ways, it's been horrible. But it's been real. I know that God will take us at our words. If we ask for more, He will give it. I want to ask for more, and the strength to bear it. Because I want to be that intercessor, I want to stand in the gap for these people, I want to be praying God's power into their lives, but I need Him to make me able. In a time when I need to be weak, I need Him to make that weakness His strength.

Let this be the start of a great work of God. Come on Jesus, bring life.

More of You. Less of me. I am not. You are.

Sunday, 30 May 2010

My God.

"Look, He’s covered in dirt, and the blood of His mother has mixed with the earth, and she’s just a child who’s throbbing in pain from the terror of birth by the light of a cave. Now they’ve laid the small Baby where creatures come eat like a meal for the swine who have no clue that He is still holding together the world that they see, they don’t know just how low, but He has to go lower still.

Look, now He’s kneeling, He’s washing their feet! Though they’re all filthy fisherman, traitors, and thieves. Now He’s pouring his heart out and they’re falling asleep, but He has to go lower still.

(and we all said in unison...)
There is greater love to show! Hands to the plow! Further down now! Blood must flow!

All these steps are personal! All His shame is ransom!

Oh do you see? Do you see just how low He has come? Do you see it now?
No one takes from Him. You can’t take what he freely gives away...

Beat in His face; tear the skin off His back. Lower still. Lower still.
Strip off His clothes; make Him crawl through the streets. Lower still. Lower still.
Hang Him like meat on a criminal’s tree. Lower still! Lower still!
Bury His corpse in the earth like a seed, like a seed, like a seed. Lower still!
Lower still, Lower still, Lower still, Lower still.

The earth explodes, she cannot hold Him. And all therein is placed beneath Him. And death itself no longer reigns, it cannot keep the ones He gave Himself to save. And as the universe shatters, the darkness dissolves, He alone will be honored, we will bathe in his splendor as...

...All Heads Bow Lower Still! All Heads Bow Lower Still!"

-Lower Still ~ My Epic.

Just incredible.

Saturday, 29 May 2010


Something that I did learn tonight which I found quite cool. I have a strange geeky love for things like this.

Jesus was a common name. In it's Hellenistic form: Jeshua. In the Old Testament Aramaic= Joshua. Both by common etymology mean 'Yahweh is salvation'. Yes. (I love words).

Joshua 1:1-2- "After the death of Moses the servant of the LORD, the LORD said to Joshua son of Nun, Moses' aide: "Moses my servant is dead. Now then, you and all these people, get ready to cross the Jordan River into the land I am about to give to them—to the Israelites"

So Joshua in the Old Testament was called to accomplish what Moses couldn't do. Seeing this as a type, a way that Jesus' life is mirrored in a way in the OT. I love it. So like Moses was leading the Israelites out of exile in Egypt...Yes, Jesus is the one who leads us out of exile for good, accomplishing what Moses couldn't, proving 'Yahweh is salvation'. Flipping good news. Down to the smallest detail God is amazing.


Ouf. Life is very, very strange with all its complications, disasters, tragedies and grinding, ongoing, arduous challenges. This has just struck me in a new way. Or a new intensity. I don't know.

I think so often I want to have answers, like apologetics. I do Text-a-Toastie, and I want to have an answer. When someone asks me why there's suffering in the world, I want to tell them. I think that being a Christian, I assumed that I've got an FAQ sort of page. If I don't know, hit the doctrine, get an answer, sorted.

But lately, I just don't know. I don't understand. I DON'T GET IT.

I'm not saying that I'm doubting God. I am simply saying, that I do not understand some things. Why some people are in such hopeless situations. I trust Him enough to believe in Him and believe He knows. But I am literally burying my head in my Father's arms and screaming I don't understand. I want to weep, I feel so small and useless in the face of such things.

Monday, 24 May 2010


Just waiting.

Friday, 21 May 2010

See where my veins meet.

How great is my God? So amazing.

I've been losing motivation. ("LIT182 has stolen my soul" as I wrote on the module evaluation form).


Amidst all the rubbish essay questions to choose from on critical analysis and literary theory (both of which I detest), there's just one anomalous question on adaptation. Seriously slipped in there, not like any of the others.

Adaptation happens to be one of my passions. I love it. Directing adaptive films is one of my dream jobs.

Ah. God just knows me so well.

Thursday, 20 May 2010


You've paid her fee, You've paid her price
Now take this harlot as Your wife.
Follow her down streets at night,
She chooses shadows, never light.
Unfaithful bride for all your life,
You cannot claim to be surprised.
You know her heart's with frailties rife,
She sees with worldly, starving eyes.

She sells that which is not her own
To those who make her less alone.
No warm embrace but only cold,
They hold her close but grasp on bones.
A hundred houses, none are homes,
In a thousand beds, she finds no love.
She wonders that she's getting old,
When she dies each time her body's sold.

A hundred houses, none are homes,
In a thousand beds, she finds no love.
She wonders that she is getting old,
When she dies each time her body's sold.

But Your grace is enough,
Where she hates, You will love.
Yes your grace is enough,
Though we hate, You still love.

You can make her brand new,
You can make us like You.
Would You make us brand new?
Would you make me like You?

Now in a hundred houses, none are homes,
But she finds her rest kneeling at Your throne.
And in a thousand beds she may find no love,
But her heart is safe in her God above.
And when she worries that she is getting old,
She knows it's one day closer to the day of the Lord.
And if she died each time that her body was sold,
Then she came to life the day that You paid it all...

I can't bear to wake up to another day of Literary Practice. I am not going to bed.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010


Everything's going awfully (or amazingly) fast at the moment. I just realised that I have an exam next Thursday. My lectures finished nearly a week ago. Yes, my first year of Uni has nearly come to a conclusion (but what that conclusion is, I'm yet to determine). Crazy days though. The summer is an exciting and ever-looming prospect of jobs and travelling, holidays and mission. I have no idea where I will be living for the most-part yet, in Nottingham or Sheffield or some random camp somewhere. Who knows? One question I always know the answer to. God knows.

We fly out to Mozambique in about two and a half months. There are not yet enough funds, jabs need to be paid for, flights, everything, I don't have nearly enough yet. We need so much. It's a good job our Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills...

Joy. Joy. Joy.

Mum's just brought me back to Sheffield after a flying visit home. She's given me rather a lot of food, including a whole pineapple. I didn't know where to put it, so it's just on my desk, and it gives the whole room a tropical feel. Win.

Saturday, 15 May 2010


I miss my anchor when sees are rough,
Until they stir, miss not enough.
I miss my soul in apathy,
No point to sight with nought to see.
I miss the hurt that gets too much,
I miss the urgency it gives to us,
I miss the crying, sleepless nights,
Wrestling with my selfish pride,
I miss the sense of searing loss,
The echo of You on the cross,
I miss knowing I am very small,
Not so big to take it all,
I miss giving everything to You,
All I strive to hold on to,
I miss the point most every time,
That You've done it all to save my life,
I miss the words that kiss my soul,
'Love is stronger than dark sheol',
Never changing, whatever I feel,
I missed You once, was absence real?
A figment of my missing mind,
I look around and try to find
You but miss You standing there,
Arms outstretched with love and care,
I missed You once, was absence real?
Or was that missed just my own zeal?
Did I lose, or turn away,
Did I run when you begged stay?
Did I spit in true loves eyes,
And go in search of a greater prize?
I miss You every single day,
Hold me close and guide my way.

I woke up rhyming. In fact, I couldn't sleep last night and vaguely remember lying for about 3 hours rhyming. I wrote about three songs, but can't remember them now. But it was a good time. Apart from being very tired.

Anyway, I'm moving towards a place where I take myself less seriously, don't polish things, don't mind people seeing that I'm redrafting everyday- I could always improve, I could always get better, but if I wait until I'm perfect before I let people see- it could be a long long time (like never). Yes, I'm talking words that get written, but I think I'm more talking about the life that I'm living. Each day (each hour sometimes) is just the next draft. Less scribbling out, or at least in different places. Refine me. Yes please.

I'm sort of excited about life today. I'm not sure what it is.

What I can tell you is that God is very, very, incredibly faithful. I have job interviews. In both Sheffield and Nottingham, so all I have to do now is decide where to be this summer. How good is He though? This God who provides everything every day. He always amazes me.

Friday, 14 May 2010

Cast off.

There should be no sympathy for me
As I plunge into the sea, the salt it stings
My Idol's eyes.
I've brought you so far from shore,
Sure is something I can't be that I can make it back

And as you cast me off you gain from loss,
Up sails swell from your wooden cross,
And I sink
I sink
I sink
I sink
I sink
into my sin.

And I commend you
For getting out
Before I pulled you down with me.

Monday, 10 May 2010

Right Honourable Gentleman

This was started yesterday, and thus is now out of date in the grand scheme of things. But nevertheless.

I was having a ponder out of my kitchen window this morning, and the radio was on. Obviously, it was politics (incidentally, my radio exposure has increased recently to include 3 hours of drum and bass whilst baking til 4am, and some old yorkshire men arguing about the existence of aliens on what I can only assume is 5live in the afternoon, and I quote, "then explain crop circles!" flawless argument as far as I can see). But yes, on this occasion it was election events.

I was thinking about the leaders, and who I'd want to run the country. The phrase 'best of a bad bunch' popped into my head. This is my take on politics generally. Nowadays I just pray for someone to be in charge that will in some way, be it deliberately (yes please) or unknowingly (I am resigned) put our nation in a position in which God's kingdom values like justice, love and grace can increase.

I was thinking about how the term politician seems to be synonymous with lies, intrigue, corruption, failure, selfish ambition, so much of the time. Things that are really, when you think about it, the exact opposites of what we would look for in a leader, were an alternative available. In my own little way, I wondered why we didn't put a civilian in power, instead of all these politicians that are intrinsically convoluted it seems. Yes, after a moment I too saw the flaw in this.

But then I wondered, why are they like that? As far as I can see, politicians are human. And we are all, at our core, imperfect. They'll always fall short, always make mistakes, but only as many as I can make in the same time. It's just that their mistakes affect perhaps more people than mine. Another thing that I think is an issue, is that even if they're not following selfish desires, problems still arise. This is because they'd be working for us, representing us, our needs, our wants, our demands. And here's the big problem. We don't even know what we want. And even if we did, we wouldn't all want the same thing. I think the election proved this adequately. And let's face the truth of life, I don't want what I need, I want what I want. Half the time, I don't have a clue what I'm lacking. Only God knows this. Yes, typically, my political views are for the kingdom of God. A friend said Jesus should be PM. I'm not sure Jesus would fit into the British political system...but I do think that He's the only perfect leader we could ever have.

Until then, David Cameron is going to have to do his best. These are scary and exciting times. I can't remember the Conservative years of my youth. I'm a clean slate, don't ruin me.

Gordon Brown resigned. I cried. I liked Gordon. At first, I thought he was dealt a rough hand and had a lot of rubbish piled on the plate set before him. Then I thought he was a bit of a joke, and never quite got it right except for giving good caption competition photos. Then I wanted to hug him. Tonight when I was listening to his speech, he started talking about how being PM was his second most important job, after being a husband and a father. Good man. I wept a little. I hope he enjoys his life. I really, really do.

Saturday, 8 May 2010


"He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour ;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come !
All other griefs allow a part
To other griefs, and ask themselves but some ;
They come to us, but us love draws ;
He swallows us and never chaws ;
By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.

If 'twere not so, what did become
Of my heart when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me.
If it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite ;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more."

John Donne- The Broken Heart

Tuesday, 4 May 2010

To renew, refresh and bloom again.

God has a hilarious sense of humour. I prayed this morning to be woken up.

"Awake, O Sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you".

Awake. Alive. Fully alive. I've been so half-hearted in so many ways recently. Walking dead. Come on God. Sort me out. Wake me up.

So I sleepily got in the shower. After a minute of comfortable, soothing hot water, it stopped. Just stopped. I had a choice to make, to cut my losses and get dry, or to face a torrent of freezing water to wash my hair. It woke me up for sure. I like that I had to decide to turn the cold on. Yes, my name is abi and I get my epiphanies from irregularities in my daily hygiene routine. But I think that God was reminding me that we have to choose to wake up sometimes, to step out of comfort and to be ready to suffer a little for the sake of the vision we have. A cold shower was just what I needed.

Regardless of the triviality of this morning, I'm awake.

I also made some ridiculously hilarious noises in the shower.

In other news, I don't have much food in, but I checked my balance yesterday and if I account for the rent that's going to come out in June...I have about £100 to last me until September. Except that a cheque hasn't been cashed from me -£150. I'm not worried. I'm trusting that something will come up. I know God provides amazingly and faithfully. I'm really hungry though...oops. Rice and beans diet coming up methinks.

Sunday, 2 May 2010


I keep writing half entries to this lately. A lot's going on I suppose.

Today, I was discussing recent events with a wonderful person. Because to go into the specifics is beyond the bounds of privacy, modesty and comfort, I'll sub in a line from Death Cab For Cutie, which touches the theme vaguely,

"You can do better than me, But I can't do better than you".

In abi-fashion, I ripped this notion apart (always in my head). The gist of my proposition: grace is a leveler. To explain, to me there is no better and worse in people. Eyes are levelers, in a way- no matter who the person is, how they dress, how much dirt is on their face, how they smell, what they've done, what they're saying, look at their eyes, the ring of colour around a deep black hole waiting to be filled, floating in a white or jaundiced or bloodshot sea... they're just human, the same as me, you, everyone else. I love eyes for this. They say they're windows to the soul, and they are. And the soul you see has fallen short of perfection in every pair of eyes.

Nobody's perfect. We all mess up. Some of us do catastrophic things that result in the deaths of thousands of 'innocent' people. Some of us take advantage of people. Some of us hold grudges.

God's grace covers a multitude of sins. The multitude. Everything. So, if we are to see people with His perspective, we're equal. All rubbish, but all perfect, all forgiven, all clean and faultless. Grace is a leveler.

That's why to me, there's no better. There's no hierarchy. Yes, you can like people more than others, you can be attracted to some as friends and more, and not to others, but that doesn't make them better. As Thrice sing, "we are beggars all". Beggars taken in, adopted as sons, wrapped in royal robes and made equal in extravagant love as beautiful new creations. How can one be inherently better than another?

This is just about value really. I want people to know how loved they are, how much they're worth, that they don't need to compare themselves to anyone else. That is all.

All except for the things I've learnt today:
  • first impressions are unreliable
  • goat's cheese, like goat's milk, tastes undeniably of goat
  • Ascend the Hill are one of the best worship bands around ('Fall'=beauty)
  • my speakers crack every 4 seconds when the volume isn't very loud
  • Jo loves Playmobil a lot
  • I still cry ridiculously at 'Crash'
  • 'love is not love which alters when it alteration finds'