Intern-alise

Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates... Especially When Your Mum Is Diabetic.

2010-03-29T06:15:00.000-07:00

Well, just looked at my stat counter, at the bottom, which counts viewers of this page, who are not my pc at home, or anyone at Gateway's Home PC. Got to a hundred. Not bad going, in my opinion.

I'm probably going to keep trying to write something useful in here every now and again, as well, like all of my other blogs I've done in my life, they keep my brain nice and ordered and keep my life from getting the better of me.

But, I'm going to have to change my reasons a bit. This is mainly because I'm leaving the full time Internship at Gateway, to look after my mum, and to give me a better chance of somebody wanting to switch houses with us.

Which is fair enough, I'd make that choice again and again, but yeah, doing so is gonna give me a lot less to think about. Whether working in the cafe, teaching me how to serve people who my nose thinks are unservable, to learning on very practical ways to live life as a christian in theology, and maybe, learning how to take myself a little less seriously, by working with Caleb, who will ALWAYS see when I do something stupid, and no doubt laugh about what I did.

But working as a carer with nothing else to distract me is going to be challenging in it's own respect. I mean, how else am I going to learn, serving every second of my life, and learning that I need to feel like i want to serve all the time... Monotony is a bitch, but I'm sure Steve's gift of the radio in the kitchen will be an absolute godsend.

So, less theological ramblings here from now on. more nitty gritty how I'm doing in my attitude towards serving, and stuff. I'll get that house looking shiny, Just wait and see. Don't expect and before and after shots though.

Head or Heart.

2010-03-14T15:34:00.000-07:00

Tonight's been a tough one for me. Listening to peoples stories about their family lives, and their varying issues about it all. It got me thinking about my relationship with my Dad.

Basically, reading a book during the past week, (I think it was Dave Magill's) and it got me thinking about something. Basically, if I was walking alongside Jesus, what would it make me feel like? Would I compare myself to him and feel terrible, as I'm pretty sure most would comparing yourself to perfection. Or, something about Jesus' character would make you feel something different.

I'm guessing if you are standing alongside Jesus for that long, you are probably his follower, and the bible says that Jesus, and therefore God views his followers not through their sins, but away from them. In other words, when he sees you, he sees you as a sinless person. Now, I'm not sure if I am jumping the gun, but if that was the case, I think for me at least, it would mean that I am probably going to view myself through Jesus' eyes.

So, back to the start. Thinking about my Dad, have I really forgiven him? I mean, I say I have, and truly believed I had, but yeah, every time I mention him, it is still in my mind the imperfect dad. The sin always gets in the way for me. I know I shouldn't ignore the sin, but I know I should recognise that nobody is perfect... Even now I'm finding it difficult to see what my view should be. Basically, if i ever have to see him, I want to view him as a person, not as the sin.

I don't think I've got that far. It's another layer of forgiveness, and I'm not sure whether I'm ready to take that step. But my nieces birthday is coming up, the chances are I'm going to have to sort this out. I'm pretty sure I wont have a close relationship, and I think that this is going to be the elephant in the room, pretty much forever, no matter how much I don't want it to be. But what I do not want is to be fearful of approaching him, and having a conversation. I want to be able to see him, not this big wall of crap from what i view as my previous life.

TEEEEEESTIMONY

2010-03-12T05:40:00.000-08:00

Hey, my name is Joe, and I’m an Intern at Gateway Church, and I’ve been asked to write my faith. To be honest, my explanation for my faith is so firmly wrapped in my story, I may as well make it easy for myself and write the two as one thing.
Basically, my faith in God started growing in a part of my life where everything was going wrong. I know many people who would say that I believe in God as a crutch of some sort, but the evidence I found of God was more than just my own mind playing tricks on me.
I think that my life has essentially been witness to other peoples problems. I don’t think until recently I’ve done anything stupid or intentionally hurt people. On the more recent note I could have looked after my mum better, but that’s about it. I guess I should start, then.
Oh, and just a warning, if your expecting a light hearted read, probably best not to read the next sentence.
When I was about 3, my dad was accused of sexually assaulting my 8 year old cousin. Of course, I didn’t know all this at the time, as I was 3, but yeah, that’s a start to it all. My cousin Andrew loved my Dad, and although this happened, they were on really good terms, and stuff. My dad wasn’t sentenced, obviously I don’t know that much information, but I know he was viewed innocent.
So, as you can see, my childhood was normal. Well, for me, it was normal, for a long time. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, I enjoyed my childhood. I was probably a bit too shy, not anti social, but yeah, I found it hard to make friends, and I think the worst I got was a few choice nicknames off a few bullies. Nothing bad. I was enjoying life.
The first thing I realised, which started to change that, was my mother throwing my dad out. Apparently, they had argued for a long time, but none of us kids had realised, at all, that they weren’t doing so well. My dad says they split up because of finance, and my mum says they split because of him mentally abusing her.
My dad is in a wheelchair most of the time. He has some sort of physical condition (I never cared to ask) which means that he can’t walk for long periods of time. He’s also got pretty severe epilepsy, which led to numerous times us kids playing pranks on him, switch his newspaper for a kids play book when he was having a fit, and when he came out of it successfully convincing him that he was reading it. And tying his shoelaces together. There's also a good story about my older brother, who at one year old, was taught to say “Daddy Fit” if mum wasn’t in the room when he went under. When this eventually did happen, Ben not only did this incredible thing of crawling across the hall to alert mum, but also crawled around dad, who was on the floor fitting, moving all of the stuff that could have injured dad, like his tea cup, and stuff. He moved them, then alerted mum. Impressive.
So back to the mental abuse. Basically, Dad would force everybody to do loads of outdoor activities, or play musical instruments, or do other stuff. He made everyone do that stuff, and then moaned about the fact that everybody could do that stuff, and he couldn’t. he made mum out to be the bad guy somehow, and he kept going on about how unfair it was, and he basically used his disabilities as an excuse and as a means to wear mum down.
So, dad was gone, and mum, who was his carer, realised that she was free of that job as soon as he had left. Of course, she had been looking after him for a long time she didn’t have any real experience doing anything else, and her own health had started to get bad, so she ended up being a shut in.
But she just stop doing anything. Mum’s always been pretty good with computers, and so sooner or later, she decided that she still wanted to help people, just not dad. So she set up an internet help room, for people with mental illnesses, on a program called Paltalk. As she had issues mentally herself, she quickly realised the best way for her to help herself was to find people online who were going through similar issues as her, and talking about what helps them, and stuff.
But of course when you become friends with people, you start to feel a passion for helping them. She opened her house a few times, letting people from online become lodgers, and it did help, I guess, she got a few very close friends, but of course with anyone, people do have their secrets. It just really does suck for mum that most of the people that she helped had the same secret.
The first Lodger she took in was a person called Simon. Simon, out of everyone who she let in, was different. He was just a guy with a few mental issues. He acted around 15 years old, when he was double that, and he was childish, stubborn, very hard work, a pain in the arse, but still a good friend to mum. He was quite a character. When mum told him he wasn’t allowed to drive he jumped in the boot, and stayed in there until we got home. When the kitchen wasn’t tidy, he’d go psycho. One point he made my brother eat his dinner, after Simon has finished spitting in it. Hey ho, that’s Simon, he’s a lot better now, with a wife and kids down south, doing better, but yeah, we knew what we were getting ourselves into when we took him.
Around the time that Simon left, Dad had got himself into a bit more trouble. Basically, when he moved out, the council re-housed him to a Hostel in Acomb. We visited him every weekend and went to school straight from his place on Monday morning. My mum was pretty good when it came to the children, she tried her absolute hardest from us getting used as a weapon in their divorce. We saw him as much as we wanted, and him being the strict one meant that a weekend a week was just enough for me.
After a year of being kicked out, however, my dad was accused, yet again, of sexually assaulting an 8 year old boy. The boy in question was the youngest person living in the hostel at the time, and he made the allegations after being left in the room for 25 minutes with Dad.
My opinion of whether he did it is different from my brother and sister. They believe his innocence, Me, and my mum, believe he is guilty. When I was on my way to a long weekend holiday in Scotland, the courts told us that they agreed with me and mum. Not only was that the worst holidays I’ve had, it also made mum go into a mental breakdown, and me and by siblings start to argue.
By that time, Iain and James were living with us. Being two guys from the chat room, compared to Simon, I thought they were pretty alright. I instantly attached to James, of which I gave him the nickname Mark, while my brother became best friends with Iain.
I realised that it was a lot easier just to hang around with Mark than anyone else, because for once, I found it easy to talk to him, and he said that I reminded him of himself when he was younger, but yeah, I spent at least 3000 to 4000 hours alone with him, which was worrying, as every now and again, he used to let me sleep in his bed and he asked leading questions, like whether I knew how to masturbate and stuff. As a 13 year old, I thought that was probably out of order, so I told him quite politely to shut up. Being what I call the least successful paedophile I know, he did.
My mum’s mental health was pretty shocking, but Iain became her rock. They were really close friends. Mum realised that Mark used to treat me better than the other two kids, and that led to loads of arguments, of which a lot of them I was there to hear. I didn’t see them because I ran upstairs and slammed the door, and read books to distract me. Mark got kicked out for taking me to a 15 movie at the cinemas, it was one straw too far. I even vaguely remember thinking it wasn’t even a good film.
After that, things started to pick up for a bit. Apart from my sister, who thought that she was being neglected, because I had Mark and Ben had Iain, she did some light drugs, a lot of alcohol, and lied to her hearts content, but yeah, I view that as normal teenage behaviour. I was doing pretty well, although I was a major part of trying to hold my mum together.
My dad eventually was released from prison, and my brother and sister were allowed to see him, as long as they were supervised by someone other than dad at the time. Iain stepped up to the plate because mum couldn’t stand the idea of being in the same room as him.
This lasted for ages, which was OK, I guess. Of course, I didn’t see him; I found it too hard to forgive him, after lying to me, and well, doing all that stuff. I’ve spoken to him once since being in prison, but that is it. My dad also had the habit of spoiling Ben and Vicky, and of course I didn’t get anything. Dad viewed it as “Why should I give him anything if I don’t get to see him.” I thought along the lines of emotional blackmail, them coming home with new games and stuff, while I was getting nothing just because I couldn’t take away my views or morals. Mum couldn’t help make up the difference because dad had left her with all the debts, too.
Vicky’s behaviour steadily got worse, so much so that my mum flipped, and hit her, thus giving Vicky the weaponry against mum she desperately wanted. Vicky wanted to move out no matter what, and being 16 at this time, mum wouldn’t let her. So Vicky got hit, and then told the council, and eventually, they gave her a place to stay. The police were involved, Everyone who was in the house gave a statement, including Iain, about how mum treats us all and stuff, and the police found mum was a good mother, but it was best to let Vicky have her own place.
But, this one action alerted the social services about Iain. It took them a while, but they finally arrested Iain. What for? Have a guess. He was told by the social services at the time that if he didn’t go with the police, we would be taken away. Mum, of course pleaded with him to go with them, telling Iain that he can get help, and she’ll back him. She had no idea about Iain being a paedophile until then, and she didn’t believe the police until she had heard the charges, and the evidence. (Iain was found guilty of sexually assaulting and taking pornographic pictures of over 40 children, 2 of which I will talk about later.)
At this point, mum closed our house from internet lodgers for good. And she also closed herself mentally from everyone else, shutting herself in, throwing her computer out of the house, and smashing it. After realising it still worked, she brought it inside again, and decided she’d go into setting up a help group for people who had been affected by sexual offenders.
So yeah, so far so bad. But, I want to stop here and say that from about when I was 14, Just after my dad was sentenced, I was going to a youth group. It quickly became the only place I felt safe, from all of the heart ache. It became a safe haven for me, that once a week; I could be myself and not be afraid. This building I’m in as I’m writing this is in the offices above the room where I had forged to many happy memories. I’d finally been able to make friends, which I’d say probably was help due to the practice I got with Mark. All of the time, I’d start dating a few people, then stop dating them, going to church, going to Sunday school and going to late night events, filling up my time away from home. I learned all about God, and faith, and I gradually managed to say that I knew a lot of Christianity. But I wasn’t a Christian. I can say that I started having faith there, but yeah, I even probably could have been saved, but I don’t know, just because you know about someone doesn’t mean you know them, right?
This is one last thing about the sad part of my life. This bit happened a few weeks before I was meant to be going to Soul Survivor, a Christian camp, with friends from the youth group.
Me and my brother, sharing a room, were arguing about everything that had happened to us. We essentially were stuck on dad’s innocence. I believed he was guilty, and my brother believed what his eyes told him, that he was innocent. But, at the same time, he believed Iain was guilty. I asked him “Why do you believe that Dad is innocent, and Iain is guilty!?”
He replied with the one sentence which is chilling me to the bones, and is making me cry as I write this. He said “Because Iain did it to me.”

He started crying. I went over to his bed, and I hugged him. We stayed like that for about quarter of an hour. I told him, after I felt like he could handle it, that he needed to go downstairs and tell mum, and I asked him whether he wanted to go alone or with me. He chose alone, and I let him go downstairs. His healing from what happened those years of knowing Iain came from telling people. He was a slave to the secret. Mum, I don’t think will ever recover, or heal fully. Especially as she now views Iain as two different people, as a safety trigger in her head. She cannot join Iain, her best friend, with Iain, the paedophile.
So, with this, and along with Jenny dumping me a few days after, I went to Soul Survivor in the worst mental state I could possibly imagine. But yeah, I talked about knowing of God? Well, at soul survivor, I started to know him.
The first night, in true soul survivor style, 100s of people came to know Jesus, and 100’s of people were healed from suffering, sometimes in big ways, sometimes in small ways. Standing there, seeing over 10 thousand people praying for each other in the big top, I saw the expectation that God was going to do stuff. But what I saw happen in that tent, could not just happen from expectation alone. I saw people speaking in tongues, I saw people crying, others shaking, and a few people reminding me of my dad going in an epileptic fit. From talking to these people the morning after, I knew they had been changed by God, not just having a mass fit, or anything. I believe that it was God, because I also felt it.
The first night, Mike Pilavachi calmly asked people whether they would want to become a Christian. At the time, I did, definitely want to become a Christian, because I’ve been around Christians long enough that they talk about a loving god. I wanted to know this loving god, and more importantly, I wanted to know that he can remove my pain and tell me that everything was alright. So, I went to the front.
I was fine for a while. I saw two of my friends there too, one of which was making the same commitment as me, the other supporting him. I stood next to them. Then, I started crying.
All of the pain, I had felt, came into plain focus. I could see it all like it was happening at the start, I could feel the searing pain of it all, not the dull thumping pain I felt before going to Soul Survivor. But this time it was different. It was essentially, God trying to take them off me. I held on to the pain for as long as possible, because that’s what I thought was my definition. I thought that the pain I had felt was what it meant to be me.
But, I let go. I believe that Gods strength was just a bit stronger than my will. I felt peace, in a long time, knowing that I didn’t have to deal with this crap. And yeah, I felt like I was loved. Whether you view that as God, I don’t care, because although God was silent on me at that time, people noticed at how I had changed. How I continue to change.
Away from Soul Survivor, I have heard God’s voice, in my head, (Wow that sounds crazy, but it’s true) just nudging me on what to do with stuff, how to make decisions. It’s different from my conscious, but yeah. As with all of this stuff, I do find it hard to explain.
My faith is wrapped around my past, just as much as a dust bin surrounds the rubbish inside. My faith has made me stronger, and more secure in who I am, more certain on where I will be going, and passionate about helping people. I know the one and true god, and I also know that he knows me better than I do. He knows who I will become, and I’m glad I can trust him.

Sorry this was so long.

WARNING: May (Correction, definitely will) Contain Rant.

2010-03-05T08:12:00.000-08:00

From very early on in the Internship, I found out that my passions lie in childrens work. Between finding that out, and having what I believe was a God inspired conversation with my girlfriend, I decided that I want to be a primary school teacher. The conversation (if you trust my memory) went something like this.

Grace, while eating a subway: Have you ever thought about becoming a primary school teacher?

To be honest, I hadn't. But as soon as that idea came up, I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, so far, even when I seemingly screw up my life, it has made sense on the view that I'll become a primary school teacher. I'll explain what I mean, by giving you what has to be the one of the speediest accounts of my educational life so far.

1. Got some pretty decent GCSEs, which i was devastated with (5 Bs and 4 Cs, I was hoping for a lot better than that)

2. Took A levels. switched my psychology to philosophy, because I hated psychology from the start.

3. Loved all of my courses, until about January, when I took a few exams, and realised it was harder than I'd been thinking.

4. Instead of trying harder, I gave up, thus setting me up for doing awfully later on.

5. Scraped 3 AS certificates, failed my favourite course, computing, and got an e in my other favourite, philosophy.

6. Decided for the next year to take a national diploma, in a course, to keep my mum happy, because I already knew by then that I wanted to do the Gap year. I pretty much chose a few days before the course started that it would be Music Technology.

7. So, from the start I was half hearted in the course, stuck with it for about 3 months, made some friends I've kept, and want to keep for a lifetime, and yeah, dropped out just before christmas. My reasons are 4 fold. 1, wasnt going to complete it anyway, 2, wasn't enjoying the course, 3, money was tight, I couldn't pay the £60 fee for the course, 4, (the official reason, if anybody with authority asks me) my mothers health was bad so I became a carer.

That's my educational life so far. Not exactly the most obvious way into teaching. I'll show you though, how God is turning this all around. And it's all down to the Internship. The Internship, as I mentioned at the start, has given me a passion, and the potential to work with young children. It's given my the chance to start again, and have a focus, and it has also given me the experience needed to approach courses and for them to take me seriously.

After thinking about how I could go about getting into teaching, Id researched all the ways possible. But the one which I though, and still think, is the best way for me is to take a Primary Education Diploma at York St Johns. Or somewhere like it.

My reasons are that I wont need a PGCE after the course, it gets me into university, It gives me a degree which i can use for something else if Primary Education isn't my thing, and of course, it's the most obvious route. the only issues is that I dont have the A levels to apply.

For Primary Education BA at York St John, I need:
GCSEs in English, Maths and Science at C and above. (Got)
Around 300 UCAS points. (Got 60, so not enough)
2 weeks at least of experience in a school setting. (got none so far, unless they class my work experience in Year 10, or my assemblies during the Internship)

So, to tackle the problems. I've been accepted into a course at York College called Access to Humanities, this is a one year course recognised as an alternate way into University. It is incredibly hard work, which is essentially 3 A levels and 2 GCSEs in one year.

Before I move on, I'll tell you why this is God given.
The course is designed for people who havent had a chance in A levels, or havent succeeded in that. But, the course is incredibly expensive. To be honest, if it was £400, I couldn't fund it, but, no, it's £1500, just slightly out of my budget. and if you have level 3 certificate, like A levels or a national diploma, you have to pay.

I don't have A levels. But I do have AS's.

But while talking to my interviewer, I found out that 4 AS's count as a level 3 qualification. so that one AS i failed, looks like it means that I wont have to pay the course fee. which is good becuase I'm sick of money getting in my way as an issue.

Another thing that could have potentially get in the way, is that I'm applying for the same college which I failed at twice previously. There are plenty of people in that college who could have given me a bad reference. But, they listened to Caleb's reference and have given me the place.

Moving on.

The other thing I need is experience in school. I've been working in assemblies the entirety of this year, which if you added them up, would come up to more than the required time, but yeah, we've decided that to give me more of a chance in the university interview that I would spend an afternoon off a week to work inside a school. Which is ace. this is very fast moving, from Talking about it with Steph while working in the cafe, we have got a place at westfield set up in a bout a week. As long as CRB checks have been initiated they're happy to let me start. I think they want people to help, somehow. Of course that is mainly because they know my CRB stuff in Gateway has happened.

Yeah, I think i havent started scratching the surface on what is happening in my life right now, or why I'm so happy, and I'm in a good place with God. But yeah, that's just a taster. I'm sorry this is rushed, and also, probably poorly written. I need to fill in a few forms. :)

What Do You Think Of When Seeing This Photo?

2010-02-22T06:26:00.001-08:00

Picture Copyright Andreas Gursky

First of all, That isn't even the full picture. its like, a third. But you get the message. If you want to view the full picture, and in the mean time ignore my ranting, click the picture. And be amazed in it's colourful glory.

My thoughts, summarised.

1: Ooh, sweets.
2: America (or my distorted view of it)
3: General Consumarism
4: How much money spent of creating all of that.
5: How much money spent on trying to make me buy things.
6: Impressed that my first thought was that. Well done advertising.
7: Worried at how well I'm influenced.

Although I'm not a part of that exact culture (although I am recognising British similarities) I can see how much resources are being used just to make people buy things. No wonder I get a bit dizzy sometimes, when walking down a supermarket. All of those stuff trying to grab my attention.

My stomach hurts from just thinking about this picture. I'm not sure whether it's my Conscience, or my sweet tooth.

How not to go to church. (from personal experience)

2010-02-13T10:15:00.000-08:00

1. Don't say hi to God as soon as you wake up.
2. Find where your snooze button is.
3. Make sure you turn your room temperature into minus figures, and keep your clothes as far from your bed as humanly possible.
4. Think of church as optional, not essential.
5. Maybe go as far as worshipping your bed sheets.
6. Work at a church, thus the last place you would want to go on the Sabbath is your work place.

Caleb's latest post really challenged me. I've been viewing church all wrong. Church should be the place where I get filled up. This is the place where I'm meant to feel rested. This is the place where I'm meant to have community. This is the place where I'm going to get prayed for, where i get healed, where I feel at peace, where I feel connected, and where I feel like I'm a part of something.

So, unlike Caleb, why do I feel so much pressure, admittedly most to all of it my own doing, to not go to church? I mean, no wonder sometimes I don't feel like I'm a part of the community as a whole, only the youth. It's because I have chosen to spend time only with the youth.

How can a community built up to include me if I've already written it off from my early experiences, and misconceptions? I've essentially get into a circle of when I'm at church, I feel like I'm not a part of the community, and so I don't go into church, thus, not giving myself a chance to be a part of the community.

I know I am a part of the community, I mean how can I be less so? I work for the church, serve into numerous ministries, and spend full time hours serving the church, it's surrounding community and my God. Any time I do go to church, if I actually speak to people outside of my usual social circle, they normally comment on how long it was since the last time they saw me at church. which makes me feel guilty, and yet, missed. So, why does the Devil make me believe, that sometimes I'm not a part of the community I'm desperately trying to be a part of. And of course, why is it so blooming hard to get out of bed on a Sunday morning?

Part of that must be that I work 6 days a week. all of which voluntarily, and alongside that, my actual Job, which is caring for my Mum, which is less voluntary.

So, I do think I have right to be tired, but I need to get my priorities right. What do I think is going to refresh me more? An extra few hours in bed? Or time with God, his Church, in his care? Anyone who knows their bible, and their God, would have to say the latter, especially if I give myself enough sleep that I need.

So, let's go through the list I could think of why I find it hard to get myself to church. I mean, come on, most of these are stupid, and repairable. Get clothes ready the night before, and leave them within reaching distance. Figure out why my radiator is giving me the chill. Talk to God. Use the snooze function to make sure that I've had a few minutes talking to god, and am not going to be late. Buy myself some comfy slippers (It's easier to face the day with slippers) and get a chair (or a bean bag or something) in my room which I would not mind having quiet time in, and not resigning myself to getting in under the covers again.

I like church. I'm in the right church. I know that. I know I love it pretty much every time I go. I don't want anyone to feel bad about what I've just said. Because, I've also admitted, all of these reasons are my own making. I'm going to shut up. And not make excuses.

So, I need to conquer these early morning thoughts of "I wont like it, You need your rest, Nobody wants you there, and You need a proper sleep." I need to talk to God. I need to pray about this, with all my heart, and I need others to pray for this. I need to know, in my early morning, that I will enjoy it. I need to make life as easy as possible for me, because I know that mentally, some of this stuff wont get any easier. I do believe however, that if I'm talking to God, he'll help me get out of bed.

I don't know what to do. I need advice, but most of all, I need people to help me feel like I'm not alone. I don't mean in the community, I'm going to make more of an effort. I mean people telling me that I'm not alone in the fact that it takes them a lot of effort to get to church in the morning.

Can God Justify His Own Actions? Part 1

2010-02-02T06:31:00.000-08:00

If God made someone do something, then punish them for it, surely that cannot be Just? It's one of my reasons why I can't make sense of Islam. From what I understand, (and I recognise that my knowledge on the matter is very small) Muslims believe in a God who judges people, just like the Judeo-Christian God. The only difference, really is that they also believe that God controls all their actions, so much to say that, they are essentially puppets with no free will. So how can God judge someone of their actions when surely, he's the one who should be judged. That's why I can't really get my head around Islam, but, I've seen something not as extreme as that, but still troublesome to my heads, while reading the story of Moses and the Pharoah in the Bible last night.

It is to do with the Pharoah's actions. I've always assumed that the Pharoah was a little bit high on the power that was given to him, and he had an issue with the authority of God, and he attempted to do his own thing, which was to make God's people slaves, and stop them from freely worshipping Yahweh. If that was the case, I'd say that it does make sense, and that it was Just to teach Pharoah a lesson. But reading something in thre, threw in a spanner in the works for me. It says, on numerous occasions, that it was God who made Pharoah's heart stubborn. I know he didn't do that straight away, but it was essentially stopping the Jews from escaping.

I think I'll make this a part 1 of 2, I'm going to read the story from the start, because this is troubling me. I want to see where about's it starts saying God made Pharoahs heart stubborn. I think on the behalf of all the First Borns in Egypt, if it was God controlling pharoah, that's not good.

Faith and Culture

2010-02-01T02:58:00.000-08:00

I was having a pretty long discussion with Grace about the topic of Culture, which, because it is me, quickly deteriorated into an argument about whether Faith can be Culture or not. Grace took to the point that faith and culture could mix, and I had trouble distinguishing being a part of and actually being the same thing. I think, in the end, we came to the agreement that faith can be a pretty massive part of culture, but it can't be culture, for the sole reasons that it existed before the culture did, and also, just because two things exist at the same time doesn't mean they are a part of one another.

It's just interesting to see how faith can shape culture, especially while sat in a culture which has lost faith as an influence. I mean, America, pretty much has two different cultures, and the term culture war is used pretty often. But looking at other faiths like Hinduism, Islam and Jewish, you can see how much the faith has shaped the culture, and vice versa, that sometimes, it is impossible to split them.

I'm pretty sure that quite a lot of the time when culture messes with faith, two things happen. It gets harder to distinguish between people who believe in the faith because they genuinely do, or they do because culture, and the state, essentially tells them that's the only valid option. And, it gets easier for the masses to become a member of that faith, even if it means the faith changes, into something which resembles the culture.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I think because I live in a culture which lacks the faith aspect, I think that I am envious of people that do have it. At the moment our culture hates the idea of an absolute truth, because that means telling people that they believe in an absolute false. I wish it would be different, because I can't see how Christianity is offensive to people, and I hate my culture making me feel like I should act like it will. I don't want to apologise for speaking the good news.

If someone of a different faith started telling me about their faith, in pretty much 95% of the time I don't think I'd be offended. To be honest, I'm sincerely interested in other peoples views and beliefs. If anything, the last thing I'd be when hearing people's views would be offended.

So how can I go about in life with the fear that culture doesn't like me believing that my religion is right? I think the answer probably will be with great difficulty.

Especially as I won't be forced into being ashamed of the Gospel. To be honest, I'd rather by far hear other peoples views, and let people celebrate their religious holidays and festivals to the full, there is no harm in it. As long as I get the chance to do the same. I want to be able to say the words, Merry Christmas, rather than Happy Holidays, even though I may be saying it to someone of a different (if any) faith. If someone said Happy Hanukkah to me, I'm not going to get offended. I'd respond with Happy Hanukkah back, politely, and I'd continue my day.

How is any of that offensive? Why should I let my culture belittle my rights of free speech?

"I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." Voltaire

What is Heaven, Anyway?

2010-01-25T07:47:00.000-08:00

I've been Reading a book, Things Unseen, which has got me thinking about what is heaven like. Because, if it is anything like a church service for eternity, it's not going to be good. Because, no matter how good the talk, I get a bit itchy towards the 45 minute mark. And, clouds, and what ever the old style thoughts of heaven, that isn't what I want. it sounds boring, unbelievable, and ultimately ridiculously pointless.

So, what am I aiming for? What am I living towards?

I always find it quite hard to believe in Heaven. Especially as my childish (mis) understanding of it is made up from ideas like living in clouds, being in a church, or not having fun. I find it hard to believe that God would create something like my view of heaven, just as much as I would believe that he created a place with fire and endless pain and torture for people that he loves.

What would it mean to walk with God? More to the point, walk with God with eternity?

From what I have learnt over the past few years about heaven, is that it is essentially going to be like Earth, but better. It's going to be better than anything I can think or imagine, and yet, we are going to have bodies, like our own, and I'm not going to be just spirit.

But what is Heaven going to be like? Because it's meant to be like Earth, but better. But Earth is a shadow of it's former self, so how am I meant to know what heaven is meant to be like. I can see the beauty and awesomeness in Earth, where Heaven has broken through, and yet, I still don't really know what it means to live with my eyes on Heaven, never mind what it's going to be like when I finally get there.

What am I living for? I want to know what it means to be living in the presence of God, in the way I'm designed to be.

(I'm guessing if anyone has read Mark Buchanan's book, you'd probably guess at how far I've got in the book. And why I got wondering about John the Baptiser.)

The Random Object Game

2010-01-20T05:07:00.000-08:00

Twice fairly recently, two different people have brought random objects into a room, and asked a group of Christians to pray, think about any of the objects, and see whether God will talk to you through them. Whether it is about learning about God more, or giving insight into situations of people around you, I haven't seen something as effective for me personally as this for quite a while. Not everyone heard anything, of course, but the way God just worked in those rooms was impressive.

What was it about having random objects, which brought that out? Most of the ideas in the first time linked, none of the ideas coming from it obvious... Why did God decide to use this?

To be fair, we don't normally open ourselves up just to receive. and If we do, normally it is just asking God for stuff, without having an object or something to focus on. There must be an element of God using our imaginations, or something.

For me, It was a load easier to hear from God focussing on an object rather than having a mental stalemate in my head, constantly thinking, give me something God, and not giving him a chance to answer before I ask him again. I'm guessing it's easier for me to hear from god when I'm focussing on an object, because I let God have a chance of getting through.

People who normally wouldn't dare speak up when it came to saying prophecies, either because they con't hear or bottle it when about to stand up, said stuff quite freely in a small group. I really enjoyed it. If no-one has tried this before I'd give it a go to see what happens. if you do, and it works, tell me. And tell me why you think why. If not, the same.

Internalise

2010-01-13T10:50:00.000-08:00

Reading about John the Baptist recently, has really confused me. John, who, lets face it, is a contender of someone with a really strong faith, (so much so that before in the womb he was happy that Jesus was around,) constantly builds Jesus up, baptises him, and lowers himself so Jesus can get higher. What worries me is his faltering faith, after all this, when he gets sent to prison and is treated bad. John asks Jesus whether he is the one, because John isn't seeing any miracles come his way, and gets a weird response from Jesus. And, after not receiving a miracle, John gets decapitated.

I'm having trouble about Jesus' response. John said something along the lines of 'Are you the Messiah? or is there someone else we are waiting for?' Which, although all of his life he's been a very strong believer, is saying "Why have you left me alone?"

Jesus shows John's messengers loads of miracles, and then he says in reply, 'Blessed is the man who doesn't fall away on the account of me."

Now, what does that mean? I genuinely don't know. I can kind of see his reasoning of making miracles happen in front of John's messengers, even though, if I'm in John's place, I wouldn't find any comfort in them. It would just rub in the fact that Jesus didn't help me, and it feels like he doesn't care for me. Unless, of course, John thought that Jesus wasn't doing any of this stuff at all, and he wasn't who he said he was. Then maybe, although John never saw any of this himself, this would have satisfied him.

What are other people's thoughts? Because I'll keep on thinking about this, and reading up on this more before I move onto something else.