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February 28th

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February 28th This is the last day of the FebEx – though as Emily-the-Wise pointed out, it’s Lent now, so I can carry on through Lent as well! And I think I will. It started with…inviting you in, Jesus, inviting you in to do the creative together, just for the joy of it, and with no outlines or deadlines. What has it shown me? That it was hard to invite you in. Opposed. That in order to invite you in to joy, I have to invite you in to grief: knowing the one is essential to knowing the other. That there were voices in my life that said I was supposed to cope on my own. And I ought to be productive. And that actually, joy was a bit of a self-indulgence, wasn’t it? Compared to Getting Things Done. And two very unexpected things. One right at the end of the month. About last June Jesus, you said to me, “Will you invite me into those post-natal depression years?” And you have been healing a lot. During those years of undiagnosed post-natal depression, I felt like you w
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February 27th

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February 27th Putting the pieces together. Pattern pieces, game pieces, lego pieces: the whole month has been about putting the pieces together. And putting a few more of the pieces of my story together as well. Because so much was shattered in those years of undiagnosed depression, so much of my understanding of who you were, Jesus, so much of who I had been, who I was. Reading our story aright is so hard sometimes. Four years into following you, Jesus, I thought I knew how the bits fitted together, how to do Being A Good Christian Woman – even if, mostly, I couldn’t manage it (wasn’t blonde, didn’t sing soprano, didn’t like wearing skirts and wasn’t married or engaged). Forty years into following you, I realise I know nothing! Except, maybe, some of the names you have given me. I really can’t find the instructions that tell me how all the pieces go together. Or the rules for how to play the game. I don’t know How To Get It Right. And maybe that’s not even or ever pos
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February 26th

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February 26th I want to go on with this. I don’t want it to end. This has brought me so much life, I don’t want to give it up. I don’t want to go back to “everything you do should have a meaning and a purpose and be profitable if it’s going to have God’s blessing on it.” I had slid into a mindset – been conned into a mindset! – that said if I was just doing something for me and the joy of doing it…well, that was okay for a little bit of time, but it was just a stopgap thing, a pause until I got back into the game. It was like you sort of tolerated it Jesus, were willing to wait until I’d finished (as long as I didn’t spend too long over it) but it wasn’t a real thing to be doing. It wasn’t a place where I would meet you in deep intimacy. But it is.
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February 25th

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February 25th Inviting you in, doing something creative for the joy of it, with you Jesus… That was where all this started. That was – is – what this month has been about. And what has it shown me? That I had forgotten how to do that, lost that skill. That I thought you wanted me to cope, to gut it out. That I thought you were only really present when I was Doing Things For Other People. It showed me how battle-weary I was, and how hard these two years of covid have been. Because the whole covid thing hasn’t been the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, then I’ve tended to dismiss it as lightweight, as something that shouldn’t really have affected me. Something I should have coped with, no problem, because it isn’t as bad as… It’s shown me how battle-weary I was, and it’s shown me your rest, Jesus.
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February 24th

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February 24th. No matter what is happening in my life, no matter the season, no matter the landscape… No matter what is happening in my life you, Jesus, are always inviting me into deeper intimacy with you. But it’s going to be a different type of intimacy in different times, isn’t it? The intimacy of grief is not the intimacy of joy.
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February 23rd

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February 23rd I’ve just realised something huge, something that all this inviting-into-joy has shown me. Two things, actually, both about the post-natal depression years.. One, I stopped believing that you wanted to come in to what I was doing. Two, and much bigger, I couldn’t see what you were inviting me into. I thought you were just giving me a load of things-to-do in those PND years: love your child, take care of her, protect her childhood: bring love and laughter and play and care and being present to her into it. Which I did, because I did love her. And I wanted to do what you were asking, because I loved you too, God. But you weren’t inviting me into anything desirable. That’s the message that got in. You weren’t inviting me into anything, you just wanted me to do a load of stuff. So did you really love me, care about me? Emily messaged me again, and sent me this song link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSIVjjY8Ou8 And what it showed me was this: it’s all
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February 22nd

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February 22nd Inviting you in, Jesus – into the FebEx things, into making bread early this morning, and into painting tiny cabbages and cauliflowers onto a game tile… I lost the ability to feel joy, to know joy, in the PND years. Lost it so thoroughly that I thought you took no joy in me at all. And then it came back a little – I could take joy in other people’s joy, be genuinely delighted for them when something worked out well, rejoice with those who rejoiced. But did you rejoice over me? The huge message was: “You are getting it wrong. You are failing.” And I know, I know – it was attack; that’s what depression does to you; you can’t hear God clearly when you are depressed. But I didn’t know that, back then. And if I was failing, then you wouldn’t rejoice over me, or with me in anything. That’s straight from my earthly father: unless you’re a success (which means being first in everything, all the time) then I’m not interested in you. In fact, I’m disappointed in y
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