Monday, August 29, 2005 hiss

"And give no opportunity to the devil." (Eph4:27)

"For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. we destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God and take every thought captive to obey Christ." (2 Cor10:4-6)

Too powerful and yet not powerful enough. Argh he annoys me becuase he's real and he wants to do anything he can to tear us limb from limb and destroy our faith and extinguish our light. Stealing our joy is bad enough.

Within 24hours he managed to attacked me at EVERY point of weakness that I know I have and send me into despair. And more fool me for not having my defenses up and clinging to God. Boo hiss to me and book hiss to him. And now I find myself trying to push through the darkness, pick up the pieces, and put right some things. A couple of days of desperation and coming to a point where I claim that the devil will not win.

It's probably REALLY dangerous even writing this now. But I claim God's promises that HE that is in us is GREATER than he that's in the world. Always has been and always will be. Loves me. Always has done and always will.

God you're awesome. And everything else sucks in comparison.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

hair today I wish it had gone tomorrow

Ok so now I'm confused...

Hair comments:

"I wouldn't keep it like that" - Dan.
(When told, there's nothing I can do he says "Actually you look Spanish. It's quite good." Ha. too little too late matey)

"It looks amazing" - Laura.

"It suits your eyes" - Rebecca.

"Nope. I really don't like it" - David.

And at work one of the guys I care for kept calling me someone else and another lad said "What have you done with your hair?" When I asked if he liked it he replied "Yes." And then I said "Are you lying?"
Reply: "I think I might be."

Ah well. Right. That's enough. 3 blogs mentioning my hair. Getting very boring and very self-centered. Going to stop it now.


I'm still mourning the loss of my old hair. The hair dresser said I can't do antying about it it will make it worse. The only thing I can do is have the colour stripped off but that will cost £70. Sniff.

Words of wisdom: don't dye your hair. I think Baz Lurman says 'don't mess with your hair becuase by the time you are 45 it will look 85.' Correction. Don't mess with your hair. Full stop.

And don't get like me; so vain that the odd hair distaster means the world has ended.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

creating community with shadows on tents! Posted by Picasa

Friday, August 26, 2005

just one of those days

I'm having one of those days. When everything becomes too much. When I'm too tired and it compounds it all when everything happens at once and i can't make decisions and my conscience is going crazy telling me I shgould be doing things that I'm not sure I should. And it all resulted in a panic attack. Frightening. Becuase I haven't had one of those since I had depression over a year ago now. That scares me and I don't like it. One little bit.

To cap it all I decided to dye my hair. Not becuase I wanted it to be different but just ebcuase im growing it long and the blond highlights were looking a little silly-gone white at the bottom of my hair shafts. Anyway, I meant to go my original colour. And it went bright red. Then I bought some plain brown. And it's gone black with a red glow. Kinda goth style. I hate it. What should I do? I think dying it again is enough to make it drop out. Maybe some more highlights...and im back to square one. like an endless roundabout that won't let me off.

On the other side of London my cousin Richard had a bad day too. He picked up an adder and it bit him. Adders are poisonous. He's now spending the night in hospital. Silly boy.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

the london art girlies (plus 2 others!) at soul survivour Posted by Picasa

barbequing! Posted by Picasa

sunrise on the final morning Posted by Picasa

Monday, August 22, 2005

getting personal

Location: Internet cafe in paignton
Time: 16.30
Weather: Hot sunny with easterly winds
Agent's status: brown windswept and relaxed

Momentum, Soul Survivor is over for the year and I am enjoying reflecting and having yet more fun in Paignton, Devon with my grandparents and cousin, Richard. As always, I find it hard to express at times what I've been doing and learning and so neevr do. I just hint at certain things and let the conclusions be drawn autonomously. Like postmodern art I guess.

Signifcantly this week at soul surivor God tatooed things deeper into my heart that have been growing over the last few months. Those conversations with drug addicts, dealers and homeless and the way my heart has been aching for these people and being shaped by situations I've been involved with recently took me to momentum wishing to hear from God and seek advice. Attending a seminar on church planting and the poor and also in prayer and meditation during worhsip sessions God emphsasised this longin in my heart. During the seminar the speaker saw I was moved and asked some people to pray for me. Speaking with hiom afterwards gave me ideas and contacts of which to pursue.

And yet, my other heart beat right now is for Goldsmtihs and for my friends. And that is what comes first. This week enabled me to pour out my heart to God to recommit myself to being a light in a dark situation. To plead with God for the college and receive words from him. To cry and to be prayed for. to ask for wisdom and passion, love and boldness to speak and to keep on speaking. A longing to see Goldsmiths as a place that honours and worships God.

"How great is our God. Sing with me. How great is our God." When will they sing with me? Will they sing with me?

"Name above all names, you are worthy of all praise." Far above all philosophers, all thinkers and artists that are held to be the name to admire. He rules.

But most importantly God came and asked me to consdier my relationship with him. To come back to my first love and make loving him and being loved by him my fgirst priorty. To not let whatever ministry or passion I have to define me. My love for him and my relation ship with him. To allow his grace to be what calls me to him and makes me fall to my knees. And then to go.

hmm...this has all been a little personal. oh well.

Monday, August 08, 2005

johnny and sally

I want to tell you about johnny and Sally (names changed) and our time at London Bride bus garage.

At just gone midnight I found myself sitting on the kerb at the bus garage longing to get to bed after a long, in some ways difficult, but good evening at a private view in Shoreditch. And I waited for the 343...and waited. As I waited a man in his earlier 30s approached me, with a woman. Johnny and Sally. Johnny sat down on the kerb next to me and asked if I was okay and if he could sit with me. Sally continued wandering around, ranting and raving. Clearly disturbed in her mind.

Johnny and I got chatting. He showed me his thumb which had gone ganreonus. Sally had hit him with a hammer. He told me her sad story of rape and mental illness. Sally, with unkempt hair, skinny as a rake and a demeanour as far from peace as is possible was shouting all the while about late buses and cursing. I urged Johnny to get some antibiotics and we contined to talk of his distress of having to care for sally and their home situation; life on the streets of Holloway.

As we talked I was deeply moved by this couple and their bondage to the powsers of darkness which is doing it's best to destroy their lives. Johnny told me all he really wanted to do was lie down in the road and wait for the next bus to run over him. He ahd nothing left to live for.

And so I told him about the love Of God and what Jesus had done for him. Johnny put his head in his hands and wept like a baby. His body shaking with grief and I pray, hearing the message of beauty and true freedom, true life. 'Becci, I know that right now I need God. I need everything.' we talked further, praying that God would break in and wishing that somehow I could do more.

We got on the bus when it finally arrived. Sally's ticket was dated 25th June and there was no way the bus driver was letting her off. he yelled at her, swore at her and once again over me swept such a feeling of desperation for this couple and for the bus driver who was so clearly consumed by anger and bitterness. I paid for Sally's ticket, after the bus driver and yelled at me too. When johnny and sally got off i felt uselss. one of those moments when you now there's more that needs to be done but you just don't have the resources available right thne or the prescence of mind to know who to refer them to. Other than God. Our wonderful counsellor and precious father. And pray. And cry. And so I did.

When I eventually got to my stop at gone 1am I walked up to the bus driver and said i didn't know why he was so angry but that JEsus loved him and thinks he's great and that he needs Jesus. He yelled at me and told me to get off his bus. I told him Jesus loved him and wanted a friendship with him. He yelled at me some more. So I got off the bus.

And I cried as I walked home and got down on my knees when i got there for Johnny, sally, the bus driver and the terrible state of people's lives. and just how much they need Jesus.