Creative Space

Stuff

Leeds Christian Bookshop, June 2010

I want to find Jesus but there’s all this stuff in the way.

Scriptures on stickers and sweets

Books, CDs, conferences, celebrities.

All these songs and special offers.

All this stuff.

I just want to find Jesus and sit at his feet.

I just want to find him and weep.

Exploring Cambodia

October 2009-March 2010

Aim:

·         To live in Cambodia for 6 months to test out the possibility of living and working in the country on a long-term basis.

Objectives:

·         To live in Phnom Penh and get an overview of the work going on there by visiting various projects, groups, organisations and NGOs.

·          To work with at least one of these groups to gain some grassroots experience and build relationships.

·         To spend time with members of the World Horizons team and get to know them and their work.

·         To listen, watch, observe, make friends, pray and generally get a feel for the place.

·         To write a blog and stay in touch with friends and supporters in the UK.

Background:

In January 2008 I visited Cambodia for a couple of weeks as part of a round-the-world trip. It was a time when I was seeking God for the future and wondering whether there might be something for me overseas. Having been involved with mission since the early 90s, mainly through World Horizons, the idea of living and working abroad has never been far from my mind so when funding ran out for my job in Hull, it seemed a perfect opportunity to start testing things out for real at last.

Out of all the places I visited, Cambodia made the deepest impact, even though I was there the shortest time. The decision to return took a while though due to a couple of projects I needed to finish in the UK and relocating to the Isle of Wight to spend time with my family. As it turned out, this move proved very timely as it was on the island that I met up with Sheila Reid who inspired me to go back to Cambodia. And it was there, after Norman invited me to come to Phnom Penh as a friend of World Horizons, that I got the backing of two churches who have since been supporting me prayerfully and financially.

Way back in ’91, when I was  Liverpool Cathedral after a night working with a church I felt God say to me “Take my beauty to the people”

Having lived and worked in the East End of London (mid 90s) and council estates in Hull for the past nine years, my heart has always been for the “urban poor”. Living where they are and where they’re at has always been important to me. It’s not always been easy or enjoyable but it’s where I find my motivation and most of my inspiration as a creative person too. My visit to Phnom Penh in 08 made an impression, then, precisely for the reasons I’d been living where I’d been living and doing what I was doing up til then. Here was a place....

Mary and Martha

East Cowes, Isle of Wight, Feb 2009

Whenever there’s a sermon about Mary and Martha, it’s usually Mary who comes out glowing and Martha who’s left in the dark. Strange really, given all the attention the more active members of congregations get and the lack of popularity of prayer meetings. Somehow there’s a solemn reverence for the contemplative life (which most of us, we say, are not cut out for) and a -------- for the active life which, spiritual pygmies that we are, befits most of us. Either way, we come out with a spiritual inferiority complex.

Being more naturally a Mary, I have spent a great deal of my working life ferreting around and wearing myself out in the process as if to compensate for this less admirable state. The fruit of which has been an unrealistic gauging of time and energy, of trying to cram too much into too short a time-span and not allowing myself to rest and find that small, still space to live out from. Instead of working out of an internal natural rhythm, I have imposed structures and demands and in effect, given Martha free reign whilst Mary has tip-toed around somewhere in the background.

Martha - strong sense of responsibility. Taskmaster. Maintain order.

Mary is avoiding her. Is intimidated by her. Sees her as the stronger one.

But Martha is worn out. Outwardly she’s noisy but inwardly she’s empty.

Outwardly Mary is almost silent but inwardly she’s full.

I respect Martha but like Mary more.

Learn to like Martha and respect Mary more.

Bethany

East Cowes, Isle of Wight, Feb 2009

Mary               inward             receptive         being/prayer/reflection/ listening/research/worship/dwelling

Martha            outward           productive       doing/teaching/preparing/cooking/writing/hospitality/serving

Lazarus            sideways          relational        relating/communicating/sharing/trusting/envisioning

The house of Mary and Martha

Stress               Conflict            Competition                Survival           2D        Antaganism

Draining energy          Confusion        Turmoil           Judgmentalism            Criticism

Without Lazarus they’re at loggerheads. Worried they’ll tear each other apart.

They’ve lost their source of life and protection and everyday is a struggle.

Martha – Driven to get things done and survive.

Mary – Not valued or understood.

The house of Mary, Martha and Lazarus

Harmony         Balance           Fragrance        Enrichment                 Shalom            3D

Acceptance     Empathy          Order              Energising       Encouragement          Flourishing

Now Lazarus is back, peace and community are restored and the house is filled with fragrance.

House Poem

St John's Vicarage, Bransholme, Hull, Summer 2008

Innocence

House of new beginnings

Of hoped for harmony

Of connection and grace.

House of the flying tardis

Of new worlds waiting to be found

Of new colours waiting to dazzle.

House of the land and soil

Of digging and planting

Of unhindered growth.

House of freedom

Of reckless joy

Of cover and refuge.

House of promise

Of warmth and rest

Of provision and peace.

House of riches

Of feasts and frivolity

Of parties and play.

House poised to kiss sleeping beauty.

House ready for redemption.

Experience

House of the broken windows

Of smashed ceilings and break-ins

Of possessions stolen and strewn.

House of tears and troubles

Of broadband battles

Of clashing generations.

House of the flowing whisky

Of late night witterings

And telescope twittering.

House of the big brothers

Of thwacked thighs and pointing fingers

Of mobile phone fascination

And rubbish bin preoccupation

Of grumpy kindness

And soaring silliness.

House of the sisterhood

Of singing and sighing

Of laughing and crying

Of hair and fashioning

Of washing liquid rationing.

House of the gravely garden

Of the hidden tennis court

Pushing up the daisies.

House of the packed kitchen

Of the peopled lounge

Of stories, feasting and fun.

House of the back-stage

Of unseen work and wisdom

Of making and marking

Of waiting and writing.

House with a heart-beat.

House coming to life.

Imagination

House of wonders

House of healing

House that hosts the angels.

House of hopes

House of dreams

House that holds the nations.

House of beauty

House of light

House that shines and shocks.

House of love

House of truth

House that won’t be stopped.

House of joy

House of peace

House of celebrations.

House of faith

House of fight

House of resurrections.

House of love

House of hope

House of heaven-come-down.

Writing On The Move

 Post round the world travels, May 2008

Writing, I’ve discovered, is quite hard when you’re on the move. Although the constant scene changing provides immediate and ongoing inspiration, energy that would go into pinning these thoughts down goes instead into making unending plans and decisions. Once the survival mentality kicks in, of  wondering where to sleep, what to eat, where to go, there’s little creativity left just to sit and write.

In fact there was only one time when I felt settled and rested enough to write. It was when I was staying in a house in New Zealand run by a Catholic Worker community. There I could hang out with people I got on with and who did most of the cooking. And with my basic and psychological needs met, I found I could sit back a bit, let my mind unfurl and actually write. The need for home is a powerful thing.

I guess this isn’t everyone’s story but I found it to be mine. So I’ve returned with books of notes, jottings, thoughts and quotes waiting to be pinned down and assembled in some sort of lucid order. Although it’s been a pain to have been holding on to them for so long, I’ve enjoyed making connections and comparisons with different places and cultures and hope what I write now will shed a clear and poignant light on things.