Looking for helpers


Qubek’s Manchester bee mural in the Northern Quarter (Photo: Soup Kitchen | Twitter)

The horrible event in Manchester a week ago touched so many people, and my heart goes out to those who have lost loved ones.  I was in the city again this weekend and was moved by some of the new art work promoting community as well as some of the tributes I have watched online including Tony Walsh’s poem ‘This is the Place’.  Some people have shared the quotation from Fred Rogers, a US TV presenter who used to encourage children facing scary news to ‘look for the helpers’:

Fred Rogers often told this story about when he was a boy and would see scary things on the news: “My mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.” (PBS website)

This seems to be good advice for children and adults when we are disturbed by shocking events which we might see on TV news – faced with senseless evil which makes us see the worst in humanity it can give us a better perspective to focus on the good: the hardworking members of the emergency services, bystanders who rush in to help like Stephen Jones and those who work in counselling and pastoral services to support families and others affected after the event, including many inspired by their faith.

I went to a prayer meeting in Manchester yesterday evening where the group are working through the one of the Thy Kingdom Come resources called the Novena, using artwork by Caleb Simmons.  Here he is discussing the piece we looked at yesterday:

There’s a female paratrooper on the brink of jumping from a plane, and we looked at an accompanying passage about Esther in the Bible as she prepared to go to the King to plead for lives of her people.  One of the things that struck me about the picture and the passage was how even though each woman appears alone, on the brink of a significant step which only she can take, she’s not actually alone.  The paratrooper has someone flying the plane, and others in the plane with her and who have presumably helped with her kit and preparation.  Similarly even when put on the spot by Mordecai, Esther asks him to gather the Jews in Susa to pray and fast for her, as she will also gather those who serve her in the palace.  It made me want to be more aware of and grateful for the people who support me, and to look out for people about to take a new step of faith and see how I can support and pray for them too.

Sometimes help comes from a more unlikely source.  I had an interesting discussion with a friend in need last week, who had received a rather nebulous ‘let us know if we can do anything to help’ offer from family some distance away.  While he didn’t want to prevail upon them, or be disappointed if they let him down, I did feel strongly that he needed to give them the chance to help him out, even with all the uncertainties of how they might respond.  Sometimes we do have to make ourselves a bit vulnerable and ask for help, to allow others to help us.  Perhaps some of the victims in Manchester might not have expected a homeless person to come to their aid.

The friendship between a group of London Gay and Lesbian activists and a Welsh mining community might have been similarly unexpected, but I love this true story portrayed in the film ‘Pride’ which I rewatched yesterday afternoon.  One of the characters, Dai, explains it like this:

Pride friend

I love the way the friendship is portrayed in the film, and how later on the miners get a chance to show their solidarity with LGSM at the 1985 Pride festival.  When our fellow human beings are being beaten down, by prejudice or terrorists or cancer or depression, we have the chance to be the one who chooses love and reaches out, and to celebrate the others who are doing the same.

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Connecting up well

I’m not an electrician by any stretch, but I spent a lot of time last Saturday to Monday trying to attach a new light fitting in my study. The old one had only one light out of four working, and replacing bulbs hadn’t done the trick, so I bought a nice new set of three spotlights. Unfortunately the instructions didn’t match up with the multiple wires I had coming out of the ceiling, and I had not made careful notes of all the wires I had detached from the old fitting, and had to undo some connections to properly remove the old shell. Nine wires and three attachments had rather a lot of possible permutations. And the whole potential shock scenario if I wasn’t careful.

I love a good connection. You might have noticed that it’s one of the most prominent themes on my blog here, as evidenced by the fat word in the Word cloud on the right. Connected communication was a major theme during my PhD research, along with working holistically. I’ve been going along to a holistic leadership course lately, and one of the tools we’ve used is the Clifton StrengthsFinder assessment. This asks you lots of questions and then identifies your top five strengths from a list of 34. My top strength comes out as ‘Connectedness’ which apparently means I “have faith in the links among all things… believe there are few coincidences and that almost every event has meaning”.

I can definitely see this in myself, although some parts of the description sound a bit Zen whereas I would rather attribute the meaning and apparent coincidences to the grace and mercy of God. I love learning and expressing things through metaphors and enjoyed img_0365-cropfinding deeper meanings and connections in my creative endeavours as a dramatherapist, even if I occasionally got overwhelmed by finding meanings in every subconscious impulse or whim, dream or story. I enjoy connecting different things in this blog, and generally find multiple ways to interpret my title.

yellow_tshirtWhen I went to Germany recently I was keen to make a connection with a church in the area where I will be teaching and supporting students. I had my yellow T shirt friend and he had mentioned a particular church in the nearby area. Investigating further I found that some other church contacts had recently been to this church and led worship there in their roles with Worship Central. They put me in touch with a musician/ worship leader there and with very little time to spare I was able to meet him, hear about the church and find out how useful it sounds, both for me and another student who plans to travel to Germany before the main group go next autumn. Very cool connections.

Back to my new light fitting and some less cool connections. My early attempts didn’t work at all, and then I managed to get the light illuminated. Unfortunately I couldn’t turn it on or off with the switch. Even worse, the kitchen lights had also stopped working. Once I removed the fitting again, all Saturday night we had no lights in half the downstairs. I asked for some advice from a physics teacher friend at church on Sunday, trying not to make him worry about me too much. He gave me some useful tips about the switch live and putting red to red and black to black but it was too much to explain in a quick conversation. When I tried on the Sunday afternoon I managed to get the kitchen lights working by connecting up some of the wires, and I spotted the switch live, but I just didn’t seem to have the right wires left to get the kitchen lights and the study light to both work together.

On Sunday night I found a useful website online which had photos and a similar set up to mine. Before work on Monday I tried to connect it all up following their instructions, but I just couldn’t physically get the wires to all stay where I needed them to be. I didn’t have enough hands to hold the fitting as well as forcing the wires into the different connectors and tightening the little screws. I couldn’t find an easy time when my housemates would be available to help during daylight and I really wanted the study to be available again. In the end I got home after dark on the Monday but managed to improvise a head torch by tucking my phone into a woolly hat brim, and a cradle from shoelaces which held the fitting in place while I fiddled with the wires. My arms were tired and my prayers were getting more frantic and I finally managed to get it sorted.

It was such a faff it made me think there’s probably something God wants me to learn in this, and a metaphor about something that I want to share here. Maybe it’s about the surprising need to attach all three live wires together. Maybe it’s about the role of the black switch live wire, which looks and acts like a neutral wire until you flick the switch which turns it live. Maybe it’s about the two neutral wires which needed to fit in the same hole to connect to the light fitting, and really didn’t want to. Maybe it’s about the need for good connections to be light for the world, and where the power comes from. Tim Hughes shared recently how Desmond Tutu said that we are the lightbulb, we just need to stay plugged in. Some light bulbs are more complicated than others – but I guess getting the church to be light involves a lot of different people and different connections. It’s definitely better when we work together.

For me I think it’s probably about being part of two different church congregations at the gas-st-lightmoment. I love my local church and want to stay fully involved there but I’ve got a lot out of the bigger city church where I’ve done some training and attended some evening services. I know that has definitely contributed to how much better I’ve been doing spiritually lately, and I know my local church has got more from me as a result, but it does feel a bit complicated. I guess if I can stay connected to God as the power source and connected in the right way to both churches then I can help spread more light.

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Carrying heavy stuff

Last weekend I finally sorted through the last boxes of img_4193belongings from moving house and packed up eight plastic crates for the loft.  Some were heavier than others but lifting them up the stairs and then up the ladder to the loft was a pretty tough job, and one I couldn’t have managed without some help from my housemate who helped from above in the loft.  I did most of the lifting myself and was pleased with a good job done, although I noticed later that lifting the crates onto my shoulder to climb the ladder had left me with some pretty impressive and odd-shaped bruises.

While I had been chuffed at the woman power that had got the job done, it made me think of how some men in particular have much more developed shoulder muscles, which wouldn’t have bruised anything like as much as I did.  Whether from manual work or time in the gym, this attractive feature I first noticed when ballroom dancing as a teenager would actually have had a much more practical application, had there been spare men around to help out.  Sadly, as often seems to be the way, spare, helpful, well-built men were not in evidence.

The idea of building one’s muscles to get better at carrying things was one I mused on more the following day, wondering whether this also holds true in a metaphorical or spiritual sense.  It seems likely that as we flex our spiritual muscles by developing our faith and trust in God, then we will be able to carry more, whatever that means.  If we take small steps in building up the amount we try to carry, then we may find that we don’t strain or hurt ourselves in the way we otherwise would.

bruiseHowever, sometimes things are just too heavy, and we need to let someone else help, or shoulder the burden for us.  Jesus said that we are to come to him when we are weary and burdened, and he will give us rest.  He encourages us to take up his yoke instead, which is easy, and a light burden.  In case I didn’t think of this, the bruises on my arm resemble something of a cross.  While I’m not keen to get a tattoo, I do want to remember what Jesus carried for me.  So I thought I’d blog about it.

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Painting the skies


I’ve realised that many of my favourite places have beaches img_0542facing west, and are perfect for sunsets. Holidays to Vancouver, Croatia, Oban and Fionnphort have been particularly memorable for some amazing sunsets. On my current trip in Scotland, even with some weather during some days that could definitely be described as dreich, the evenings have been beautiful and so far I have had four nights with four amazing sunsets, and taken probably over a hundred photographs on both my camera and my phone. Sometimes I think the phone actually captures the colours better, even with all the fancy settings on my camera.


I’ve long been fascinated by beautiful skies, and took up the theme for my GCSE art exam where I chose a section from a poem by Fleur Adcock called ‘Leaving the Tate’. It’s well worth a read or listen, but the part which inspired my sky-scapes was this bit:

And such a sky
You wonder who painted it – Constable? No:image
too brilliant. Crome? No: too ecstatic –

a madly pure Pre-Raphaelite sky
perhaps, sheer blue apart from the white plumes
rushing up it (today that is,
April. Another day would be different

but it wouldn’t matter, all skies work.

I’m not enough of an art buff to know which artists have captured skies in particular ways, or to really hazard a suggestion at who has portrayed skies like the ones I have seen in Scotland in the last few days. Do make a comment with a suggestion if you have any. img_0537-1I did buy some placemats with paintings by Jolomo – John Lowrie Morrison whose work from the Highlands and Islands has caught my eye before. This one of a beach in Colonsay has perhaps the closest match to my lovely beach views but my photo doesn’t bring out the teal which I hope will match my lounge!

The question of who paints the skies also starts off a song by Stuart Townend. This YouTube version has some nice pictures but it’s quite a hotpotch. It makes me want to make my own version when I get home and have access to more of my photos more easily. Unsurprisingly perhaps, he focuses on the splendour of Jesus, following King David from millennia before:

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.

In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is deprived of its warmth.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭19:1-6‬ ‭NIVUK‬‬

Such beautiful skies do make me praise God, and the glory of creation as a whole is one of the things which convinces me that there is a God and the universe is not just a matter of coincidence. I’m not sure if I think God spends time painting skies – part of me wonders if he’d delegate the task to a angel or four, or I suppose simply create the conditions where sunsets are a regular phenomenon. But then trying to understand that God is outside time as we know it, there is no reason why he shouldn’t take time to enjoy creating more beauty for us to marvel at.

One other way I enjoy engaging with the beauty and colours of nature is by having a go at some art myself.  The view in Oban is one which my Mum and I have both tried to paint over the years, and the colours in my acrylic from 2006 are quite similar to this year’s pastel effort.

Not surprisingly, God’s rather better at sunsets than I am, but as with most of life, I think he likes it that I have a go.  

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Achieving a miracle?

People who know me will be aware that I take song lyrics more seriously than most.  I mostly enjoyed the Prince of Egypt film, and one of my favourite songs happened as Moses and Miriam led the Israelites out of Egypt towards the Red Sea.  They sing ‘When you believe’, a song which has since been made more famous by Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston, although in the film version it is sung well by Michelle Pfeiffer, Sally Dworsky and a children’s choir.  I particularly enjoy the children’s choir singing in Hebrew, with text taken quite closely from Moses and Miriam’s songs in Exodus 15.

But the lines in the chorus that always bothered me go:

Who knows what miracles you can achieve
When you believe, somehow you will
You will when you believe.

My objection was over who does the miracle – surely, I thought, this is God’s miracle, by his power alone, and so to talk of Moses or others achieving miracles seemed unsound.  Why, I wondered, did they not talk about what miracles you can receive, as this also rhymes easily with the key ‘believe’ lyric, but I guess the emphasis on God rather than your own rewarded efforts would make this less of a popular inspirational song?  And so I just thought it was a bit skewwhiff, but generally a positive rendition of a key Biblical moment.  But more recently I’ve had to reconsider the concept.

miracle workJordan Seng, a pastor from Hawaii, was preaching at Christian festival New Wine last week.  My sister and family were there and she shared a link to watch the main teaching and worship times (music and prayer) via YouTube livestream.  I’m not sure this broadcasting has been common practice before but it was a way to get access to impressive teaching while still in my own bed during my annual leave, rather than having to pay to attend, and camp!  Anyway, Jordan has recently published a book called ‘Miracle Work’ and his series of talks was about ‘The Life of Try’ and encouraging people to step out into supernatural ministry, most particularly healing the sick.  His main point was that in the same way as we don’t just pray asking God to bless our preach, but that we study and prepare and do the work, so there is work involved in healing people.

The most revolutionary thing to me was that people in the Bible don’t get healed by people praying asking God to heal them.  There are many various and at time wacky ways of healing people (spit and mud on people’s eyes?), but the main pattern is that Jesus or one of his followers declares healing rather than asking God for it.  This may be as simple as saying ‘In the name of Jesus, be healed’ and laying a hand on the affected body part, but what they don’t say is ‘Please God, heal this person’.  Jordan emphasised that it is person to person and that we are involved in the healing, even though it is vitally God’s power that is working the miracle.  Remarkably God chooses to use us as his flawed agents of healing, we don’t just delegate the job to him.

This is exciting to me – not just because it seems to workIMG_4332 (more later), but also that it shifts the way we respond when someone isn’t healed.  Instead of moving down the perilous road of saying it must not be God’s will for someone to be healed, we (the ones trying to heal) can take responsibility for not doing it right, not moving in enough power or not having enough faith.  We can offer to pray again, try to address potential blockages or ask someone else to be involved.  Jordan had something of an equation which identifies four different variables which might be increasing or impeding our power to move in the supernatural works of God:

Authority + Gifting + Faith + Consecration = Power

If you’re interested I’d really encourage you to look at his book, but I’ll try to do some quick explanations for each of the parts from my notes from his talk:

Authority – Jesus gave the disciples authority to go out and heal people, and also commissioned us.  Generally our authority derives from our obedience to Jesus’s directions, so if you are living sinfully, you don’t have much authority to heal.

Gifting – Some people have particular gifts of healing.  We can increase in gifting by asking God, but a quicker solution is to take someone with you who has the gift of healing and work together.  You can also use other gifts like words of knowledge or leadership to build faith.

Faith – This can be about your faith, and the faith of the person seeking healing and others present.  Jesus sometimes cleared out the doubters to increase the faith environment, and encouraged faith in others.  Sharing testimonies of healing is a good way to build faith for healing, but it’s definitely not just about the unwell person’s faith as this can’t be expected from someone too ill or young to understand, and certainly not from someone who is dead…

Consecration – This is about making things sacred and sacrificing.  Setting ourselves aside for God’s use can increase the way he can use us.  This might involve prayer, worship or fasting.

IMG_0124Spending time in prayer or fasting, seeking words of knowledge or sorting out more obedience to God in our lives does start to feel more like work.  It does mean that there might be a reason to feel some sense of achievement, akin to what I might feel if I had put of lot of work into a preach and then felt it went well.  In both cases I should give the glory to God, since any gifting or power came from him, but it feels a bit more like something we are doing together, rather than me purely being a recipient of a miracle.

It seems like there are lots of stories of God on the move in different parts of the world, using his people for works of healing on the streets and seeing amazing breakthrough and many turning to know him.  While the way of praying declaring healing is very familiar to some of my church friends, somehow I had missed this, and it feels like a whole new way of seeking healing is now available.  Even just watching one of the New Wine speakers this week (I think it was Alan Scott from Coleraine in Northern Ireland where they are seeing significant awakening/revival) he prayed for healing for the congregation, and my clunky shoulder just seems to be healed.  I didn’t think about it or pray about it, but I just noticed over the next couple of days that it was better.  I wasn’t pushing it to line it up as I used to in the shower.  This is something that has been a problem since I was a teenager.  I had some physio and exercises to do and generally put it down to bad posture.  I’ve never asked for prayer about it as I’ve always thought it wasn’t a big problem, and that others needs are greater.

But it meant that when I joined some friends on Thursday this week praying for people on IMG_4036the streets in the city centre, that my faith was quite high, and I was able to share that story with a couple of the people we met.  I also saw three or four people experience noticeable healing, two of whom I had the privilege of laying on a hand and simply directing pain to be gone, and the person to be healed in Jesus’ name.  Generally the response was positive and good-natured, even if people said no thanks, or that the pain they had was their friend or companion.  One woman was really touched by our willingness to pray and our compassion as we prayed for her and her mother.  Later that day she phoned my friends to say that her leg was feeling a lot better and her heavy bag became mysteriously light and remained so all the way home.  I don’t want to take the credit actually – I want God to be glorified and for people to get to know him through being healed and hearing stories of healing, but it certainly feels like things are being achieved and that I get to be part of it.  Awesome.

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Navigating the darkness

IMG_0273I’m thinking that if anyone attempts to write a blog post like this, they probably won’t be in the middle of the darkest time.  I know my perspective is easier at the moment and I’m asking you to bear with me if anything I write jars with your more difficult circumstances.  Do comment or come back to me if you want to offer a different point of view.  I preached a sermon yesterday which touched on the issue of unanswered prayer and times when it seems like God is silent or absent.  In it I mentioned several times in my life where I had felt like God was not with me or interested in engaging with me and how sometimes my reaction has been to stop talking to him.

When I joined the Ship of Fools website around 2002, my signature included a quotation from the song ‘A Case of You’ by Joni Mitchell.  It read:

Just before our love got lost you said
“I am as constant as the Northern star” and I said
“Constantly in the darkness, where’s that at?
If you want me I’ll be in the bar”.

DSCF1277Although I wasn’t spending a lot of time in bars in those years, I did pretty much stop going to church.  My involvement with the Ship website was an attempt to stay connected with some of the faith issues which were bothering me and to meet some Christians and others on the fringes who might have some wisdom or solidarity to share.  It was a place where otherwise unacceptable views seemed welcome and at times I used it to rant at God.  I asked a bunch of questions about whether a personal relationship with God was a myth, and whether humanity was just a science experiment gone wrong.

The existence of stars and whether we’re looking at something that has already disappeared is also explored in Karine Polwart’s song, ‘Terminal Star’.  I find it both beautiful and melancholy,

You’re a beautiful trace
Across time and space
You’re a thing that once shone
And you still shine bright
In the darkest night
Though you’re already gone

In the bigness of the universe it is hard to fathom how far away things are that we can still see, and the amount of time that light has taken to reach us.  Imagining a relationship with the one who made the stars seems even more far-fetched to many.  Seeing metaphors and meanings in everything over my dramatherapy training made me rather sceptical that any thought occurring to me could be from God, rather than my own messed-up sub1734751022-God_on_Mute_cover_smallconscious.

But I was really moved to read a passage on a similar topic recently by Pete Greig, reluctant progenitor of the current 24-7 Prayer movement and a speaker who really impressed me at the Worship Central training I went to in June.  In his heartfelt and brilliant book, ‘God on mute – Engaging the silence of unanswered prayer’, he writes:

How can [God] be present yet absent?  Perhaps it is like a distant star, flickering faintly in the darkness, whose light we see, without knowing for sure whether the source itself is still there.  Has the star died, or is it still burning brighter than the sun?  We remember times when God seemed to speak to us, or to use us, or to answer our prayer and we determine to stay true to those moments of uncertainty even though the actuality is so alien to our current experience.  And thus, by the distant light of past encounters we may navigate the darkness, like a mariner steering by long-extinguished stars when every other point of reference has disappeared. (p265)

Thinking like this, and being in a period of time where God seems closer and to be speaking to me and using me makes me want to identify some stars to hold on to in the future.  Maybe to help the darkness not seem so dark next time, or to help others find their way.  The experiences I described a few weeks ago where God gave me such clear directions to people and confirmations that neither circumstance could be pure coincidence were real gifts and something one friend suggested was worth framing.  That’s a star for me – not a ‘well done’ gold star but something I want to navigate by in the future.  I’m also holding on to the friend who I prayed for when she was struggling to get pregnant, who now has the two boys she longed for.  That’s not a small thing.  There are other friends I have prayed for over the years including friends of my sister and a university friend who have had very troubled pregnancies but now have healthy children.  You are all my stars.

IMG_0155There are other things I have depended on over the years which I have blogged about before, including a list of faith things that don’t change no matter how I’m feeling.  I know God is my rock and that when I’ve felt like I’ve reached the bottom before, there is something solid there that I can’t give up on.  Most of the time I also recognise the benefit of being part of the church, flawed though it is.  We can be light for each other, as well as for the world.  Another precious piece of prose which captures some of this for me comes from Adrian Plass’s diary aged 45 ¾, where the lovely minister Edwin explains to a doubting friend:

“I am very proud… to own and share the good and the bad, the sense and the silliness in you, Leonard, my dear brother.  I want you to know that your fights and victories are my fights and victories.  Your failures are my failures.  I hope that you can share the good and the bad in me as well – much more bad than you think I’m afraid.  But I do believe in God – this week anyway – so, I tell you what, since we are brothers, and parts of the same body, I’ll hold your unbelief and you can hold my faith.” He smiled.  “That’ll confuse God so much that he’ll put up with both of us.  I think that’s the kind of confusion he likes.  Jesus so wanted us to love each other”. (p211)

So can I encourage you to share the light you have – yoursunset boat crop 2 stars, for the people around you who desperately need a bit of encouragement right now.  And if you feel it’s just too dark, and you’ve given up on God or the church and can’t see anything shiny in your horizon, please find someone else whose little boat has room for you too, and trust the navigating to them for a while.  There are lots of different churches, and there’s even a Ship of Fools.  There are plenty more of us stumbling around but wanting to share the light we’ve found.  There is a hope.

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Honking some encouragement

There’s a lot I love about wild geese and metaphors relating to them.  I heard more about them flying in formation and taking turns to be the leader at the Worship Central conference I went to last week.  The speaker Jock James also talked about how the geese honk to spur on the lead bird, and then how another bird will move from the slip stream to take over the lead for a while.  He also said how if for any reason a bird drops out of formation, due to illness or exhaustion, two birds from the back will fly down with them as support, and then where possible, accompany the bird back to the v grouping once they have recovered.  There’s more about some of these ideas from Ron Pereira here.

lake geeseThe sound of wild geese may not be the most melodic, but it’s certainly powerful.  Mary Oliver describes it as ‘harsh and exciting’ in her poem Wild Geese, which was read out at the end of a very inspiring keynote speech at a work conference I attended today and yesterday.  The keynote speaker Alison Phipps mentioned being part of the Iona Community as part of where she gets her emotional support and energy, as well as enjoying her garden and time knitting.  I’ve written before about how I have had spiritually nourishing times on Iona and I’m planning to return there this summer as well.  Some of the worship team from the Iona Community publish under the ‘Wild Goose Resource Group’ banner, and it was from them that I heard about the wild goose as a celtic symbol for the Holy Spirit, and I like the goose as a contrast to the gentle dove – it seems more powerful and potentially agitating, but in a good way.

The conference today and yesterday was about Troubling Research, and Alison shared powerfully from her own work including with refugee and asylum seeker groups and individuals and others from around the world.  Many of us were moved by her stories and the way she shared very personally from her life and experiences hosting refugees, including an adopted daughter from Eritrea whose incredibly difficult journey to be allowed to stay in the UK touched on extremes of humanity and inhumanity.  I was encouraged by the way Alison’s research emphatically involves, empowers and gives voice to the people she meets, and felt inspired and not a little provoked to do more myself.

One of the workshops included the chance to write based on a snoopy typewriterSnoopy cartoon, but from a different perspective.  We had just one minute to write ‘stream of consciousness’ style which definitely felt like a therapeutic opportunity, like some of the metaphor work I have done in dramatherapy in the past.  Writing from the bird Woodstock’s perspective, I saw a little friend passionately encouraging Snoopy to write and have a go and share his story.  Woodstock probably tweets more than honks, but some of the phrases are definitely ones I have used with friends and students, exhorting them to write it down – as one colleague would say, don’t get it right, get it written.

I’ve definitely got a clear role in encouraging students with their writing and research now, but actually I was feeling more like Snoopy, needing motivation and someone like an enthusiastic Woodstock who believed in me and was interested in what I have to say and the words and research papers and songs I have to share.  It was great to then go on to share some songs with one of the workshop groups at the conference today.  If you’ve read this far, dear reader, you could be a key encourager for me, so please do feedback somehow and encourage me, particularly if anything I write is of any encouragement to you.  I have been motivated to write more songs after the recent Worship Central event and will be leading one at church on Sunday, so I’m really hoping people will join in, sing or clap or honk along. Honk!

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