A Dilema

Each Sunday I am presented with a dilema. In essence, do I try and make it over to Liverpool and go to the church that I have been so blessed with over the last three years, or, do I go to a more local church, my parents church, in St Helens?

When I first moved home the answer seemed clear. As far as I was concerned I would soon have a job in Liverpool and I would move back to the city, so it seemed logical in the meantime to continue at Christ Church with the great friends that I have there. It is after all a church that is blessed with some incredible teaching and at a time when I am back home and surrounded by uncertainty, great teaching is what you need.

However as time has moved on and a year and a half has passed (man that seems like a huge amount of time) I am still in St Helens and for the past year or so I have battled non stop to get to a church. In many ways I have developed a sad love/hate relationship with Christ Church, a place which now fills me with fear if I try to get over there (some talk of not wanting people to be late, which I do understand, and then my own issues with getting there on time helping me to be terrified of being slammed by the elders or deacons for walking in late), a place which doesent seem to be a caring church. This is sad as I have many great friends in that church who are loving, caring people and the teaching is still fantastic and oh how I miss it so.

Because of that love/hate relationship, and the reality of being in a different town to Christ Church, I have considered going to my parents church, a place which I have frequently visited when I used to come home from Uni at holidays. However, the teaching is certainly very different at that church (with my CC goggles on it seems quite lacking or at least limited in its scope) and the environment certainly isn't academic (not that this is a bad thing, just with those CC goggles on again its a bit different). Fellowship also fills me with fear as so many folk there are either very young or very old, and in each case they are very St Helens in their outlook. All of this is fine, but for me coming into the church it leaves me with deep apprehension as to whether or not I could survive there.

Yesterday was a case in point in how this dilema plays out in my life. I got up and endeavoured to get the Christ Church but arrived outside the church at 10 35, around 20 minutes after the church now starts. Realising this I was overcome with fear and anxiety (which had been building for the whole journey over) and carried on to Sefton Park and then ended up idling away the morning in Liverpool. In the evening I decided to go to my parents church which was good although again it was apparent that in terms of fellowship, teaching and the way the teaching was presented it seems a million miles from CC.

And yet, while I was there in the evening I was thinking about Jonah running from God and God basically stopping in him in his tracks in spectacular style and forcing him to go and do what he had been instructed to do. That had me wondering about my dilemas with church and how just getting to CC has become a huge, overwhelming nightmare this year. Are the pitfalls that I experience in getting to CC a case in point of me being pushed onto a different path by the Lord? Perhaps that is a foolish way of looking at the situation - no doubt my own lazyness plays a huge part in it all - but I definately know that there are times when I feel that God is asking me to do something at St Andrews. Now, what that is I don't know - in itself the idea of doing anything in that church fills me with dread and I am overwhelmed as the attitudes to Bible teaching are very different and I have all this academic background which would mean little there. Even more important is the case of 'feeling' that I should be there. I know many people who would say that I need to be careful in using that feeling. I agree, which is why I have been praying a great deal for wisdom and direction.

Thus if you have managed to read through this epic post, I ask that you might pray for me as I seek God's will on this issue - of church and how to serve right now. It is one of many decisions that seemingly all I can do is sit at God's feet and pray. This is great but I think I could do with all the support and encouragement I can get. Thanks.

Ohio

Having been to the US a few times now, I have spent the overwhelming porportion of my time in what is a vast, vast country, in the relatively small state of Ohio. Now, Ohio is a bit of an odd place. Over here in the UK I would imagine no one has heard of it really. Well, aside from around a presidential election when all of a sudden it seems to be the most powerful place on the planet, constantly mentioned in relation to polling, voter habits etc. And in a funny way I think that the way Ohio is portrayed over here - that of complete anonymity to blanket media coverage during a presidential election is revealing of some of the true character of the state.

Hopefully you aren't already confused, but whether you are or not I shall explain. Ohio is a state that even its residents, whilst displaying huge pride for their homeland (and especially the Ohio State University american football team), will probably chuckle if you say that Ohio is anything but average. Driving around the state it certainly appears that way. I mean, don't get me wrong. Ohio is a very pleasant place to be. Its landscape whilst not dramatic has a certain beauty. In many ways it is a place where white picket fence - or Smallville America as I like to call it - America comes to life. But its not exactly exciting.

This lack of excitement seems born out in the fact that during his recent documentary series on America, Stephen Fry, didn't even bother to explore the state in any fashion. Indeed he simply drove through en route to Michigan, talking about students being shot in the 70s at Kent State Unversity and then remarked that there was a good song about those events. Thus in a matter of two minutes Mr Fry contributed to the notion abroad that Ohio has little depth to it. That it is bland farm land, with a sad history.

And yet, that Stephen Fry documentary really frustrated me. The reaction of Ohioians to their state in a way surprises me. Why do I react like this you may ask? Well, because Ohio, if you dig around, seems to be a virtual treasure trove of history, innovation and industry. A visit here, a visit there and all of a sudden the idea that Ohio has such prominence in the US presidential elections seems much less fanciful. For a start Ohio really does seem to be the centre of the US space program. Now, of course, much of the operations for the space program take place in Florida or Texas, but much of the machinery for space flight at all stages seems to have been sourced in Ohio. Neil Armstrong, John Glenn and apparently around half of all astronauts come from this small state. HALF!!

Secondly, a large number of presidents hail from Ohio - infact Ohio calls itself the craddle of presidents. Furthermore many of the leading generals for the Union during the American Civil War come from Ohio.

Ohio has also produced a large number of celebrities - i think Spielberg and Chris Columbus (of Harry Potter and Home Alone fame) are among them - whilst it has been used for a number of film locations. It is, or was, the centre of the US's vast manufacturing base.

And yet at the same time you will find a rich vain of German, British and Irish heritage and historical buildings. The Amish community still flourishes in large numbers and you can find trully amazing Amish food in many places. The landscape, whilst being largely flat, farm land, does also include the enormous Lake Eerie, and the appalachian plateu. You will find the remnants of many native american tribes as well as hundreds of historical markers that remind you that at one point Ohio was the forfront of American exploration and was also of great signifcance during the British and French wars and the American War of Independence.

And thus Ohio is an odd place. It is not recognised in the UK, and it certainly seems bland too visitors and natives alike. And yet it is a highly significant state electorally and seems to be the most powerful place in the democratic world. It has a rich heritage and tradition of innovation that rivals many other places in the US and abroad. So please, if you will, dig around a little if you ever have the chance.

Differences

I could write at length about a multitude of subjects - I always can - but right now I have a short and somewhat awkward conversation with my Mum on my mind. She was discussing going to church tonight and that a lady called Val was leading the service and that she is always great. She then added 'But you don't think women leading things is any good' or something to that affect.

Now that really hit me. I'm sure Val is a great speaker and teacher of the Bible and many other things. I am consistently presented with amazing women who trully are accomplished in many ways. The notion that women are less capable than men is ludicrous. In skill, talent, even strength women are fantastic people - people I respect and know that often I couldn't even hold a candle to them.

The thing is though that the Bible does seem to state clearly that women shouldn't teach men in Christian circles. And this is when it gets tricky. When I first really, really examined that passage I didn't like what I saw. I was all for the notion that its a cultural throw back. Which it may well be. But over time I've struggled more and more with the fact that it might be reality - that for a reason that does not seem so clear or straightforward women should not teach men in the church.

And its to do with where we stand on the Bible. The Bible is God's perfect word. It represents a canon of Scripture that was brought together in the light of the Holy Spirit and represents the central means to which we can examine God's character and the reality of the Gospel. What happens then if we take the attitude of leaving out bits? My Mum said something along the lines of 'Val clearly believes that God has called her to do this' and that 'there are things that could be in the Bible that aren't'. But surely if thats the case then how do you respond to people who say that Jesus is rubbish and made up - because you've opened the door to the fact that the Bible could be flawed. Why take theGospel as true and another bit as not true.

This is not the best argument or explination of the situation or a debate which is frankly enormous and splitting the Anglican church amongst others. But I needed to vent. If you have any suggestions or comments please let me know. And again, I think women are brilliant, amazing and leave men to shame in many ways. I am only saying that I wonder what is right in the very specific circumstance of women teaching men in the church. Even so far as to say women teaching men in the church without a man in overall authority.

NB I think the hardest part of this is not that me and my parents hold a different set of views, rather that it sometimes feels as though we don't have a discussion on it so much as to express our views and then (and my Mum especially does this) those views become rigidly held and used to define positions on things in the future. I realise that in our sin we can all become rigid and proud - in fact just a poor listener - but its something I miss about Uni. People there at least listen, debate, analyse. I after all came from a solid position of women teachers in the church are great and now would sit much more so on the other side (though still undecided).

An American Run-Down

A few quick thoughts on the US. Well, it was great! My flight over and my flight back were both, thankfully, relatively straightforward with little or no hic-cups. The immigration officer in Chicago was curteous, polite and friendly. Church was encouraging, challenging and refreshing. The people I met, be they old or new friends, were warm, friendly and welcoming. I was blessing with great times of geekyness - the Neil Armstrong Space Museum, Mansfield in Ohio (where they filmed The Shawshank Redemption) - as well as being able to enjoy the wonderful autumnal splendour, great food, and see deer and chipmonks everywhere. I was also so so so thankful for the great time of friendship and fellowship that I was able to enjoy with Steph. It really was a great little trip.

America and How Good is Our God?

I'm flying to America on Tuesday! Hurrah!!! I'm really looking forward to seeing Steph again (and so soon - it almost seems normal to traverse the Atlantic to see my girlfriend), seeing friends (including Sarah Toth getting married) both old and new, and to spending some quality time in America. I can't wait, although for the first time ever I'm actually nervous of flying so far (my last flight home across the Atlantic consisted of three hours of deeply uncomfortable turbulence) and after the reception I got at US Immigration on my last visit (aggressive, disparaging questioning my the official) I'm not so keen on that. But other than that I can't wait for the land of the free and home of the brave. Its a brilliant country.

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I had a great Quiet Time today and it was brilliant. How good is our God and how good is it to meet with Him through prayer and His word? Marvellous.

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I'm applying for a job today which has produced within me a real sense of enthusiasm and excitement to go into the work place. Around 12 jobs in, its taken a while but its great. Its a graduate level position working for a publishing company in the Lake District. Wonderful! Books, education and the Lakes all-in-one.

Dodge Ram

I was sat at a petrol station today, patiently filling the car with fuel, and also admiring the huge Dodge Ram pick-up truck sat beside me. The Dodge Ram is, in case you don't know, a rather large vehicle that is normally found on the wide-open roads of the US of A, and is not readily available here (you have to import them and accept that it will be left-hand drive). There are a number of key features about the Ram to note:

• it is huge
• it has an enormous, not particularly sophisticated engine, usually a V8
• in keeping with a lack of sophisitication, the suspension and other key components of the Ram are noted for being a bit, shall we say, dated
• it has serious presence - ie its design makes it look muscular and tough
• it has character, and plenty of it
  

Now, with my usual European/British head on I look at the Ram (and other American cars) and think that it is a terrible car. The fuel economy is non-existent, its emissions rate is awful (something I wouldn't be too concerned about if it weren't for high-emission cars costing a fortune in tax), it lacks any of the technical expertise that I love in cars (my favourite cars - the Lotus Exige and Ferrari 360 - being packed with such gizmos and engineering genious), and it is a shouty car - in other words it really wants you to know its there. Baring that in mind I tend to think that anyone who still buys a car like that is a bit nuts, and frequently tell Steph this.

However, now is time for me to eat some humble pie. You see, even though all those things may be true (terrible fuel economy etc), I found myself fully understanding just why you would want one of those vehicles. As my last bullet point said, it has character - near endless amounts of character. Sure it would be awful to drive and expensive to run, and in this country would make you the scurge of dinner parties and neighbours alike (for one in demonstrating your 'indulgence' in destroying the planet), but it would put a huge smile on your face. Fill you with joy. Help you to escape some of the monotony of living in a world where anything that is not plain and confomist is fast becoming a bad thing. In other words you would own one just for the fun of it.

Before I finish though, a bit of a disclaimer. I am not here suggesting that you should find hope and joy in a car - that, for me, is only found in a faith in the Lord Jesus Christ - nor am I saying that sophisiticated technology, caution in buying and using things that are economical and produce fewer emissions are less worthy, and I am all for the moment when I can replace my Punto with a modest and highly economical vehicle. But I think it will be a said day when you simply can't buy, and may not even see, a vehicle as loud and brash as a Dodge Ram on the roads. It is a throw back to another age and we should be thankful for the choice to buy such a vehicle.

Heart and Soul

After a very enjoyable breakfast this morning with Danny and Dave, I decided to venture over to Sefton Park and enjoy a place that has so often been a refuge of peace and calm - a place I could meet with God and be reminded of him through creation.

However, I was in for a bit of a shock. You see, Sefton Park - along with most of Liverpool - is currently undergoing a major restoration of its traditional features. This is - at least in my opinion - a wonderful thing, as it should give vistors an incling of just how increadible this place was when it was first opened. And yet, at the moment, the Park looks like a bit of a disaster zone. Huge areas of open grass are sealed off to store heavy machinery. Most of the lakes and small ponds and rivers have been drained and are filled with rubble and clay from the building process. Large numbers of trees have been felled, and security fences are everywhere. As a result a great deal of the wildlife has quite understandably fled and what you are left with is an eerily dead place.

All of which is a bit sad really. The Park seems to have lost its heart and soul, the qualities that made it such a wonderful place to be. I always prefered Sefton to Calderstone Park because whilst obviously being a man made place it was one that was slowly being reclaimed by nature, a place that had a wild tint to it. Now, in part that was by design - it was designed to be like that - and as such I'm sure that when its finished it will regain that wilderness touch, only with more magnificent pieces of sculpture and art, deeper and cleaner lakes, and better facilities. Which as I've said is great. But yeah. Right now its a strange place.

It did make me think though. The Park has lost something. Its lost its heart and soul and it is baring its messy foundations for all the world to see. And yet, this is all necessary to make it a better place in the end. Is this not the case with us too? Is it not so that there are times in our lives when our innermost thoughts and ways are laid bare, that we are exposed to pain and anxiety and sorrow, times when we too lose something - perhaps a joy, or a hope? And yet, are these not the very same times when God builds us up and creates something new within us?When He replaces false joy and hope with a joy and hope that comes from a belief in Him, when He grounds us in prayer and studying the Bible, changes us and molds us according to His perfect will. And yet do we not despair and seek to flee from the quiet and pained moments in life?

Just something to think about.

(P.S. Somethings don't change though - I still had a random friendly squirrel climb up on to my arm. Bizarre.)

University

I've written about University on here before, though it has of course generally been in the form of frustrations regarding my thesis, or thinking back with great fondness about the friendship and fellowship that being at Uni has furnished me with. This post however is going to be something different. Its going to be the first critical analysis I've yet written about Uni and its pros and cons in my life.

Firstly the pros. Well, Univeristy certaintly achieved for me the great awakening of my mind - so to speak. Academically it challenged my preconceptions, introduced me to wide-ranging topics and ideas that I could never have encountered if not in that context, challenged me to challenge those who before hand I certainly regarded with a certain amount of deference or even awe. In a spiritual sense too it transformed my life, allowing me to explore and then grow and grow and grow into a true faith and belief in the Lord Jesus Christ, a faith which now is the central tennet of my life. Without Univeristy it is hard to see how that faith would have come about.

Uni also gave me access to a world of friendship, fellowship and lessons in life which have blessed me so incredibly. Indeed, in many cases the use of the word world is significant there as I have been able to meet and live with people from all over this planet of ours, absorbing culture, learning about nations and traditions that if I'd remained in St Helens prob wouldn't have happened at all, or at the very least would have taken forty years or more to occur. Amazing! Through CU, church and living in Hallville I have been blessed with incredible, life-long friends, times of great laughter, excitement, exploration as well as many experiences that at one time I imagined would be available to me only via tv or books.

Finally, it was through Uni that God blessed me with a relationship with Steph. For that, and for so many other things I give thanks to God for my six years at University.

But of course, there are definately cons, though they are cons that I don't think the University is in itself to be blamed. University, for all its wonders, for all that it provides acadmically and relationally, is a bubble, a bubble that protects those attending Uni from the outside world. Now, I am speaking here of my University experience (Liverpool), of my course (history), and what you mind find in the UK system. I realise that if you did a vocational course, went to a different Uni, or went to Uni in the US then it is in many ways very different. But I think for many who go to Uni, you live in a world that furnishes you with so much academically and skills wise, but then effectivly dumps you out at the end thoroughly unprepared for what comes next. Indeed, what I am finding is that in the 'real world' you find yourself poorly qualified for even the most basic positions, and because University brings together people from everywhere, if you leave then you find your close friends are no longer as close as you would like.

In essence you emerge from Uni unqualifed, unskilled and without good support and friendship, at least as the 'real world' sees it. My uncle used to tell me this all the time, namely that 'Uni is a waste of time that graduates are a load of rubbish' and I used to get frustrated with that. I still do to be honest, the bit about graduates being a load of rubbish especially. But he is right in that I don't think Uni is what we are told it is going to be. University is sold as the means to achieve whatever you want in life. No uni, no prospects. And yet it just isn't. Not anymore, not right now. I'm not saying that I am disadvantaged from going to Uni - that would be self-pitying nonsense that is in itself a lie - but I am saying that the blessings that I have been given at Uni seem to have no meaning to those who run the world as we know it right now and that is exceptionally disheartening.

What I must do though is remember this. God is sovereign. He blessed me in sending me to Liverpool, blessed me in so many areas of my life while I was there, and He will continue to guide me in whatever way He sees fit in the future. And from that I can give thanks that I have been to University.

Taking Stock

Phew! As I write this I am a little shell-shocked to be honest. Steph has just left - well, when I say just it was about four hours ago that I last bade her fare-well and she boarded a plane to go back to the US of A - and I now sit a bit lost, having just lost my central purpose for the last few weeks (spending time with Steph) and contemplating having no upcoming deadlines or trips to take. Tis strange.

Its been a busy few weeks though, and by and large a great few weeks. The run up to Steph's arrival had been a bit crazy in its own right - a major and much needed spate of decorating consuming all before it and sending any semblence of a life-style into a bit of a spin, and a new beginning of a sort with an intro to some volunteering I shall be doing whilst looking for work. Steph arrived almost two weeks ago exactly, and since then its been a bit of a whirlwind. We have been blessed with some great trips out - to the Lakes, the Peaks, Wales, Liverpool, and of course, St Helens - as well as great and unexpected times of friendship and fellowship (hanging out with the mighty Moll before his marriage and move to London, catching up with the Big Baby, spending some quality time with the Gotts, and my parents). Then of course there was the big event - the meeting of Moll and Charlton to result in the Molls - which really was a great day down in Crewe (well, two days to be honest). On top of that there were films - Prince Caspian, Hancock and the stupendous Wall-E at the cinema and then a multitude of DVDs at home, coffee and less fun, a big English Heritage application.

All in all a huge amount of stuff and nearly all of it great and also sooooo tiring. And yet now I sit with Steph leaving again, unclear as to when we will next see each other, friends leaving Liverpool, myself in St Helens and the world seems a lot lonelier again. Strange days these are that we live in.

The Pace of Change

Perhaps, dear reader, you would agree that we humans like things just so when we desire them to be just so. In other words we want what we want, when we want it, as we want it. Of course, nothing says that this fulfillment of our perfection is going to be the case, and indeed the Bible teaches us that this world, because of sin, will forever be filled with pain and disappointment, especially if we are chasing goals that are not of God. And yet everywhere you look, people, including ourselves, will always be disappointed that our new house isn''t ready as we want it to be, or that our new car is not ready on time, or that new job hasn't gone through yet, etc, etc.

I was thinking about this today as I happened to be walking through a local council estate, a place familar to me from childhood and a place that was no doubt built in the 1960s as a social utopian paradise that would transform peoples lives from the outset. Now, taking for granted that anything other than God will never really and trully transform peoples lives, and regarding the council estate as at best improving peoples lives, something obviously went wrong in this particular estate. By no-means a complete disaster, the place lacks a soul and still bares the hallmarks of a community that lacked any real imagination or true individual thought. It is in many ways a literal transference of a handful of peoples vision of what would make a good place to live and is almost Soviet in its uniform nature. And yet, here and there, elements of individual thinking are emerging in the estate. Private enterprise is springing up. Scultpture can be found in assorted places. Some houses, no longer owned by the council, have a distinctive theme - one even resembled a traditional Japanese house. Furthermore a local church is now a hive of social improvement.

These significant changes were apparent today as, when I was a good deal younger (20 years folks) I wandered this estate and even then it was painfully clear things were in a bad way. Private enterprise was almost completely lacking, houses were uniform in the look to the last and sculpture was a strange foreign thing. Now, what i'm getting to here of course is that when as a 5 year I was looking in on this estate, many others were highly disappointed that the estate was such a failure. That the social improvement so craved had not materialised. And yet, twenty years on many improvements have slowly taken place that mean that at least I can certainly envisage this desolate council built community eventually have a unique and distinctive character all of its own. It can become a place that perhaps improves the condition of life. It just takes time. Time for new and different ideas and imputs. Time for problems to be indentified and solutions to be found, tried and implemented. Of course, things can get worse too - so in this case one of the local schools has closed and some shops have vanished - but overall it takes time for the soul of such a development to materialise, for the human hopes and dreams to come about. After all, perhaps one of the most amazing places I have ever visited in Britain is the city of Oxford a place that whilst now embodying so much culture and learning, at one point no doubt was a place of drearisome despair.

My point in this? Well, humans like things to be perfect and we want perfection immediately. But how much more would we understand and appreciate, with thanksgiving to the Lord, what we have, if we accept that perfection is impossible in that light, and that it might just be better for us that changes do take place over time. Firstly it gives more glory to God in his uncomparable perfection. Secondly it allows us to grow and learn and saves us from the pain of other peoples inevitable folly, by ensuring that at best only part of their notion of perfection and utopia is ever envisaged.

The Pit

I read a psalm the other day which, in describing God, commented that he 'redeems your life from the pit.' This is but one of many wonderous and indescrible acts of love, but how wonderful a statement that is, that the Lord God overlooks our many inadequacies and folly's because of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, and seeks to lift us out of the pit. The pit - what a great word. A word conveying a place that instantly identifies us with a place or environment that is not going to be pleasant. Even as I write this post the first thing that comes to mind when i think of a pit is a cess pit, the oldest and most traditional form of waste extraction. Nice!

Of course, the scary thing about that pit is that it might not be at that level of extremity. It might not be a cess pit. It could just be a depression in the ground. A place that is blatantly not on the higher ground that God might want us to be upon. A circumstance and surrounding that is not the straight path that comes from following the Lord. And yet when it is not a cess pit and when it is just a slight depression, surely that is the most dangerous place. In those circumstance we may not have even noticed that we are in a pit, and we continue on oblivious to the fact that we are in danger, not even stopping to cry out to the Lord for rescue.

I'll change tack here for a second as I am very aware you might be confused with my topographical nonsense above. The pit of course is not necessarily a place - although it might be if you fall down a big hole in the future and plead with the Lord for rescue. Hoping that that is going to be exceptionally unlikely though, in the vast majority of cases the pit is a comment on the state of our lives, and often our spiritual lives. The pit could refer to our feeling or perception when times seem exceptionally difficult. Unemployment, loss of a loved one, illness, rejection, etc etc etc. It could also refer to the simple and plain fact that we have slipped and slided to a point spiritually were we are so convicted of our guilt and seemingly trapped by our sin and folly that we struggle even to look to the Lord for hope. We are blinkered, lost and depressed by our surroundings. Surroundings that look like an inescapble pit rather than the straight path we should be on.

So in this spiritual/daily lives sense, the pit is a place of despair. The pit I referred to above, that of very difficult circumstances or severe spiritual backsliding, is perhaps best translated into the the cess pit. A place where we know whole heartedly we are in trouble and all we can do is scream out to God and ask Him to lift us. The minor depression in the land though is much more tricky. This could be manageable, continuous stress that is slowly eating away and causing us illhealth of poor relationships, or a job or lifestyle which although not demonstrably bad is keeping us from God's straight paths. Spiritually it could be that we are neglecting our Bibles or prayer and that slowly but surely we are sinking into the ground. This is scary as before we know it we can be in that huge, slimy pit of despair (the cess pit) but having massively damaged our own lives, hurt others and succeeded only in not obeying God.

Having said all that, the one wonderful thing to take from all this topological stuff is this plain and simple truth - that the Lord God in his loving, perfect way, will lift you out of the pit, whatever pit it may be, and place your feet firmly on solid ground. How wonderful and joyous is that? And the shrewd amongst you will realise that its exactly how this blog post began - meaning that you can leave out all the stuff in the middle. Brilliant! :-)

Encounters with a Fairy Ogre

I'll try to keep this brief as even I may have to concede my blog entries have a tendancy to delve into waffle at the mo. I've spent most of today sorting through clothing and equipment that I used this last weekend camping in the Lakes. Almost all of it was damp, wet or saturated which should give you an idea of just how wet it was these last few days. But what great days they were.

A group of us celebrated Andy Moll's stag weekend with a meal in Liverpool on Friday and then two short days in the Lake District, walking, camping and eating and drinking in the Buttermere area. It rained a lot and there were moments when the wind was so vicious it was hurling our neighbours tents across rivers and bringing down trees that later blocked at least one of the roads out of the valley. And yet, even with such terrible weather it was a great weekend of friendship and fellowship, and I hope, a suitable way to mark Andy's tranisition from a life sans Beko to a new married life.

It really was a great weekend.

Time and Commitments

One of the things I find hardest in the world we live in is just how hard it can be to use time effectively. Before I go on, I realise and appreciate that there are ways in which we can discipline ourselves to better use the time we are given. Making the choice to not watch television and study your Bible for example. Or choosing to get out of bed on a Saturday morning rather than lye there for another few hours. These are but a few examples. However, I hope that it is acceptible to say that inspite of our best efforts there are still moments in which the precious time God gives us slips away into oblivion, or becomes almost inpossible to manage in a way that satisfies what is being asked of us.

And it is on that point - using time to satisfy commitments in our lives - that I now turn. Very often in life (although much less so at the moment) I find that I am in positions which require me to make a firm commitment. To stand up and say 'I will be there' or 'I will do that'. Very often these may be commitments to people we care about, and equally often we may have to make a decision between different people or groups of people that are important in our lives. This is when it gets messy, not least when other external factors that are beyond our control come into play.

Making a commitment is important and failing to do so can be hurtful and frustrating to others and falls short of being a good witness to friends and family. At the same time however making a commitment in haste or in the knowledge that we might not be able to follow through is equally risky and foolish. Thus it is that using our time wisely and both making and keeping our commitments is a very difficult business at times and one that I know leaves me troubled.

My friend Bill

Having recently demolished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, i've now started reading a book I bought recently by Bill Bryson. Entitled, rather simply, Shakespeare (a title that should leave little imagine to what its about in a loose sense), I'd first eyed it up a few months ago in the bestseller list at Tesco, but held off buying the book as I had so many others to read and wanted to be careful about money and how much I was spending. Anyhoo, having cleared a few books and seeing it again in a delightful little bookshop in Grasmere in the Lakes, I decided to buy Shakespeare.

Now, as much as I do have at least a passing interest in England's most famous bard, I bought this book mostly because it was by Bill Bryson. Indeed, it would be safe to say that I have been a Bryson fan for a long, long time, and the mere addition of his name to a book will be enough for me to at least give it great consideration as book to buy and read. His books A Walk in the Woods and Notes from a Big Country would both easily make it on to my top ten favourite reads, whilst I find the vast majority of his other works both interesting and engaging. Certainly his autobiographical The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid seemed a little lacking and a bit disappointing, but even that had its moments of sheer joy and brilliance.

The reason I like Bill Bryon books boils down to a few key points. First of all he is a man who is very obviously a bit of a geek - like me. He is a dedicated, capable researcher and passionate student about all kinds of subjects. He seems to love information, learning, researching and covers a whole range of subjects (as displayed generally in the boggling amount of information he crams into his travel books, and more specifically in his History of Nearly Everything science book and the English language studies such as Made in America) and in adopting this position, having this attitude to learning, he is a man after my own heart. I too love consuming information, researching and do this in a variety of subject areas.

Secondly, he seems to have a very balanced, considered approach to his research. Certainly his opinion and persepctive shine through in all his work, but at the same time I do feel reassured that he is at least open to the possibility that he is by no means right. He has humility and a determined belief to consider many angles. This I respect immensly.

Thirdly, he is an American who loves America and Britain equally, has lived in both countries, and is married to a British woman. He is, therefore someone who shares the strange transatlantic world that I seem at this moment to be living.

Fourthly, he has a passion for the outdoors, for the culture and heritage he sees around him and an equal passion to preserve that culture and heritage. He has the American links, the interesting learning and history, language etc etc. In other words we seem to have many common interests and that obviously helps engage you in reading books.

Fifly, he has a writing style that manages to convey all that information in a way that is very much likeable and approachable to people who might otherwise find the topic dull and/or beyond them. His work on science A Short History of Nearly Everything was a joy to read in the way it helped explain and relate the most complex of scienftic theories. And best of all you are never more than a few pages away from honest, open, humble humour.

These are the reasons I like Bill Bryson books and the reason I am now reading a book on Shakespeare. Go buy a Bill Bryson book today and put a knowledgeble smile on your face.

Great Picture

This is a great picture, even if I do say so myself. Something about it, the colours, the sheer raw nature of the wood and the metal together, all help me appreciate it more than I would another picture. It is, in case you were wondering, part of an old medieval door from a stately home in sunniest Lancashire.

Space Loos

I haven't written on here for a while, a sign, perhaps, of the fact that I've been in the Lakes for a week and also been somewhat distracted with life.

However, I feel an entry is needed and what better than to talk about the rather bizarre world of the space programme (the global space programme) and its sheer oddness. You may have seen in the news recently that the International Space Station has been experiencing lavatory troubles. It seems that the $100 billion space station is equipped with only one toilet, a somewhat surprising oversight (especially given its remoteness if anything goes wrong), and one that prompted an unprecedented plumbing emergency this week, as said waste extractor broke.

Back on earth Russian engineers hurridly prepared the urgently needed replacement parts (the ISS is of course a mixture of global technologies), which were then loaded onto a plane, flown over to Florida, rushed through US customs in a diplomatic bag (thus avoiding the pitfalls of long customs delays), taken to NASA, who then set about stripping the space shuttle (which was due to launch on a seporate mission) of non-essential items so as to accomodate the toilet bits'n'bobs. At which point the shuttle lifted off, docked with the ISS, and an engineer successfully repaird the loo. Joy of joys!!!

A successful and staggeringly complex operation to fix a toilet. An expensive one too, coming in at some $450 million. For a toilet! Amazing.

Swivelling Seats

A story unfolds before us, slowly but surely light is shed on a mysterious object. Music begins, light hearted, jolly, moving us along in this tale. Suddenly the spotlight falls upon the swivelling chair and dvd player in the centre of..... the car!!! Amazing. Astonishment follows as the music stops being soft and going into a bit of frenzy. A pause ensues and then the razzle dazzle wonder amazing guitar rift kicks in and the story ends.

Hazaah!! All of a sudden all your problems are at an end, the solution of life is clear. A car with swivelling seats and a dvd player. Its so simple you are amazed you didn't think of it before. The kids will be amazed. The sky will always be the most techincolour blue you could ever imagine, and the grass greener than green. All because you bought the car with the swivelling chair and dvd player.

This is of course the story of modern advertising, no longer selling a product on the product itself but on how it makes you feel, on the association you will have with it. The advert I am alluding to here is a particularly one for a car thats circulating at the mo which has as its main selling points a swivelling chair and a dvd player, but there are others. For instance I was particularly gripped and almost sold on how a mobile phone would improve my mood, not because of the phone, but because the phone was shown with laughing people and beautiful scenery.

Modern advertising is scary in its ability to sell us the solution to life in the form of a materialistic item. I'm not rallying against captialism here. I actually really quite like capitalism and my materialistic objects. Its just scary to think people actually think (myself included) that we will find satisfaction in a car or a phone alone, and that comes from associations with things that having little to do with the phone, things that often are gifts from the Lord or reveal his glory. All harnessed for a marketing campaign. Crazy.

Dynamo

I've been struggling a bit of late. Meeting with God in prayer and reading my Bible has been more of a hurdle than a desire and as such i've been avoiding the hurdle quite successfully - sadly.

As a consequence of this of course, i've been struggling with other things. Today its back to jobs again. I seem to have no focus, look at jobs and see only a bleak abyss, and am just generally a bit downcast. I did watch an episode of Band of Brothers yesterday in which one of the characters remarked that a particularly bleak situation they were all in seemed to have no end, and this is the key bit, at least as far as they could see. Later in the episode an unforseen development resolves their dilema, and this made my heart leap knowing that as long as I trust in God and keep chipping away things will happen that will help resolve the job situation, amongst others, that right now I cannot even contemplait.

For the moment though I am struggling to bring things before the Lord whilst I feel a bit like I have a huge creative dynmo lurking inside me, spinning away and seeking to explode in a fit of productivity, and yet, for the moment I have very little to do - or at least it seems that way.

Tales of Endurance

I finished a book today. In itself thats not entirely a blog worthy event, and, especially now that I am post-thesis and pre-employment, I have been reading quite a bit more than I did in the past. But, the book I finished was so facinating, so vast in its topic, that I decided to give it a bit of mention on here.

Entitled 'Tales of Endurance' and written by a chap called Fergus Flemming, it sets out in the form of short chapters to tell the tale of western exploration over a period of around 700 years. However, accepting that that would require a massive study and write up the like of which would take 20 years to read, let alone write and research, Flemming hand picked a veritable who's who of exlporers and their exploits and set about producing a handy 600 page (thereabouts) journey from Marco Polo in the late thirteenth century to the fateful exploits of the Italian led airship expedition that set out to discover vast swathes of the Arctic in the 1920s.

And I was gripped for the entire journey. Flemming opened my eyes and introduced me to new and unknown figures, whilst joining the dots and providing the missing pieces of the tales and lives of well known historical personalities, such as Scott and Shakelton. It was a journey that ranged from the frozen wastes of the Arctic and Antarctic, to the searing heat of Sahara dessert, taking in epic mountain and jungle treks as it went. It was a grim adventure, men and women battling through immense difficulties and harsh conditions, only to die from run-ins with the locals, scurvy, exposure, and starvation to name but a few maladies. On many occasions though it was also a tale of people overcoming those maladies and escaping hopeless situations, and although Mr Flemming was not entirely enthusiastic about this point, so so many of these men and women battled on seeking and trusting in the Lord. Amazing!

It was also filled with interesting little bits here and there, the three that amused me the most being:

a. Thomas Jefferson believed that native americans were actually a lost tribe of Welshmen!!
b. Mount Everest, which we pronounce Ev-rest, should actually be pronounced Eve-rest (as in Adam and Eve).
c. The main motivation for the first British expeditions to climb Everest was to build character.

Great book.

Demise of A Computer

For the second time in the history of this blog I'm writing about the demise of a computer. Most specifically my laptop, which, after two and a half years of faithful service (well maybe two years and nine months to be more exact) has almost died. I say almost as it will still work tentatively under battery power as long as the fan doesen't kick in. If the fan does kick in its all over but it is still just about continuing.

Anyhoo, I am thankfully writing from a new shiny model, which thanks to the wisdom of John Knight and the immense generosity of my parents and great aunt Ed, is working well and beginning to usurp the functions of its predecessor.

I hope that I don't seem all materialistic writing about what is ultimately a material object. Rather I am writing as its a poigniant thing in this technological age when a laptop goes awry. Facebook and MSN are, sadly, crucial to me remaining in touch with the wider world right now, while job hunting takes place on my trusty laptop, and its an essential impliment for helping me and Steph to stay in touch with each other. So a laptop becomes far more than an object, it becomes a medium to a much wider world.

And more than that, theres a certain sentimentalism to my old laptop. It essentially bore the brunt of a massive thesis research project and write up (and I do mean massive - the keyboard was pummelled), held literally tens of thousands of photographs, was also a medium of communication, and more recently provided a key lifeline to Steph and acted as an entertainment centre to help me through nights of spiritual attack. It did a lot in other words, and silly as it seems it is a bit sad to see it consigned to the rubbish pile.

Perhaps you think i'm crazy for being sad and sentimental about a laptop but its been a trusty material object.