Author: dianewoodrow

I’m reading a brilliant fantasy fiction novel by Raymond E Feist, the first in the Firemane Saga, and twice in it the characters have mentioned a “false dawn”. That is the time when light starts to appear over the horizon but daytime is still a long way off. Here in North Wales it starts getting light about 7am if the sky is clear. This is the time of our false dawn. Then around 7.45 the sky is then shot with reds and purples (again only if the sky is clear), but the sun does not rise until after 8am. Our false dawn lasts for about an hour or more depending on the time of year.

I think the world is entering a false dawn from Covid-19. We are hearing about vaccines being made ready and of brave people coming forward to take the vaccine. But, as was said on two news satire programmes, very few people seems overly excited about it. I believe this is because we are in that false dawn time of breakthrough. A new day is coming. We are coming out of the darkness of this unknown virus. But the new day is still a long way off, and it is ok to not want to get involved in what is going on yet. As with this morning’s sunrise it was full of colour and promise but by lunchtime the rain had started and by early afternoon it was pouring with rain and the wind was billowing, and the dog and I just did a very short walk.

I think it is wise to be cautious with the news of vaccines and even of Brexit deals. We are in the time of false dawns, where things are just starting to be seen, just starting to come into focus. It is ok to tread carefully, to want to still stay safe and at home, to be fearful of planning something. The sun will rise because it always does, but no one will know what the day will look like until the signs of the sunrise are fully known and the day comes into complete fruition.

So I would say don’t beat yourself up if you are one of those who are feeling cautious and don’t feel like celebrating, whether that’s the vaccine, Brexit, or any number of other things that have come to light during 2020. Wait and watch and be ready for the new day – whatever it looks like.

Tis the start of Advent. Well it is in the Celtic Calendar and I have started my Lean Towards the Light this Advent & Christmas Book Celtic Advent book. Even though this has not yet come up as one of the thoughts in it I felt that over this Advent season was a good time to be looking at the past year. So I’m looking at – Loss – today and I’m going to follow this up in a few days with – Gain – as I journal into what I have gained over this period.

We’ve all experienced lots of loss and change this year. Those “prophetic words” of Rest, Renew, Resore, etc seem a long time ago, and I think many of us rested for a bit and then tried to get on and do. We did not do as the Cormorants do and rest until we are ready to fly again.

I was thinking through what I’d lost this year – my income from Airbnb and from the writing workshops I used to run; with my husband working from home I’ve lost my lunchtimes to just hangout; I’ve lost the volunteer work I used to do up at the Castle (now home to I’m a Celeb); at the begining of lockdown I lost being able to ride, got back in the saddle for August and Sept and then feel off and bruised my ribs; and the plays and productions I used to put on in church, with lockdown starting just as I was bringing together a Psalm Sunday play; I’ve lost out on earning money doing things with local schools, and had 2 paid events that had to be cancelled in June this year; I’ve lost the freedom that comes from the times my husband goes away with friends and when I can get away on writing retreats or visits to friends.

What do these things say to me I thought? What have I lost most of all?

It is the praise. It is someone saying I’ve done well – whether this is from my riding instructor and friends I ride with; from Airbnb guests who give me a good review; from those who attend writing groups who have had a good time and tell me; from the pupils and the staff when I run a fun workshop that we all enjoy; from staff but also visitors at the Castle who would tell me what a good job I’d done. Yes my husband is great at saying thank you for his lunch and supper, but he never notices if I’ve cleaned, and only notices that I’ve made the bed since I hurt my ribs as I need his help. Ok so Airbnb guests didn’t notice that I’d cleaned but they would give a 5 star rating for how clean it was.

I don’t miss the Airbnb, what I miss is the compliments, the telling me I’ve done a good job. I don’t miss the money from the writing workshops whether adults or schools but I do miss the fun I had with the people but also the thank yous. I miss being told I’m good at something, miss achieving, miss that buzz of running a group, of meeting new guests, that nervousness of getting on a horse. I miss the adrenaline buzz.

In journallingthrough this the other day the phrase popped out was “I want something to be bothered about“. But it made me wonder how much we all resist resting and resetting because we have to take stock, rethink, wonder what we have been doing and return to a place of finding what are passion is and what we can “be bothered about.“

So we do need to stop, to think about what we do and why we do it, so that when we do restart we can do so with a passion. So I know I need to be something that will involved that nervous adrenaline buzz. For others it will be something different, but are you willing to stop and ask yourself what is the bottom line of why you do what you?

In 1968 the Bee Gees sang “It’s only words and words are all I have” which made it all sound so simple. But words mean different things to different people. The first holiday my soon-to-be husband I went on showed that. We were in the Peak District and he suggested going for a walk. We had walked before around our home town but those had been to the tea-shop to cake and a long natter. Once in the Peak District his “walk” meant something totally different. What he meant was “all day hike” but myself and my kids were expecting a gentle stroll really.

Here in the UK Wales has just come out of lockdown and England has entered it. One of the big controversies is over “non-essentail good” and how people interpret that. Also what do you see as “essential“?

Garden Centres are still open but bookshops are closed. Supermarkets are open but they have closed off their clothes sections. My florist can’t open her shop but can work from hom. I must say I would have included “car screen wash” until Saturday when I needed some. One man’s non-essential is another man’s essential.

Now take it a stage further – I’ve just read “Why I’m no longer talking to white people about race” by Reni Eddo-Lodge in which she talks about “insitutionalised racism“. I am now reading “God of violence yesterday, God of love today” by Helen Paynter in which she calls institutionalised racism “institutionalised violence“, which is much harder hitting, I believe. Both women are talking about the same thing but using different words. The above examples are of using the same words to mean different things.

So often what we say we don’t mean or we think we know what we mean but don’t have to vocabulary to express it. But also we don’t slow things down enough to either explain what we mean or to ask what is meant by. I would have had a much better time that first walk we did together in the Peak District if I had said “when you say ‘walk’ what do you mean by it?” I believe there would have been less upset if the Government had said what they meant when they said “non-essential” but also I think the media when they recieved the story would have been doing a public service if they had asked “why have you picked these things are non-essential?” and “what do you mean by non-essential?” But no one does. The media made a mountain out of a mole hill and the government stayed quiet. I got upset with my soon-to-be-husband and he got upset with me being upset with him! As we all do when people are upset with us!

I wonder too if Helen Paynter can get away with calling racism violence because she is a white middle class woman talking about God but Reni Eddo-Lodge would not have been able to because she is a black woman talking about her experiences? Sometimes it is as much the speaker as it is the words used that we filter what is said though. So maybe next time we think we’ve heard something maybe we need to be bold enough to ask what the speaker meant by that and also to question the cultural lens we are looking through.

I couldn’t sleep last night. Maybe it was my ribs still hurting (which seem to be working on the “I’m almost better so I can do things today to the following day’s oh no I’m not because I did too much” theory of healing!), or it could have been the wine I drank last night and the very nice pumpkin pie, or it could be listening to the storm outside and then being woken by the full moon peaking through the clouds. In the end I decided I might as well get up and have a cup of sleepytime tea.

We’ve got a couch in the bay window of our living room so I curled up on the couch with my drink, opened the living room curtains and there was the moon looking back at me. Then it went and hide for a bit behind some white cloud. There was an awesome looking cloud up there, a storm cloud, that looked like fingers stretching across the sky which was being lit by the light from the full moon. And as I watched it seemed like the moon burned away those whiter clouds and hung there with a golden ring around it. I wish I had taken a photo but I knew that by the time I switched on my phone, got distracted by the messages on it, and sorted the camera out, that moment would have gone. So I just sat and enjoyed the moment.

The trees across the road from me were being battered by the wind, leaves being ripped from them, street lights twinkling as the branches swept back and forth. But high in the sky that black finger-like cloud was hardly moving, the moon was hanging there. Everything in the upper reaches of the sky was calm and still. It made me think of how often we are only looking at our chaos of the moment, the stuff we are battling through for now. And that is not to dismiss what is going on now. This week a friend’s nephew died in his sleep, another friend’s neighbour’s 5 year old was buried, another friend’s mum is in hospital but she can’t go and visit her because of lockdown restrictions. There is chaos, destruction and a storm raging down here on earth at the moment. But what that sky above was telling was that if we can look up – again to the “where does your hope come from?” – there is strength and calm. As Oscar Wilde is reputed to have said “we are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars.” I wonder if he meant the Glory of God. [discussion on Oscar Wilde’s faith maybe another time???]

The moon is always there. The moon is always full but often it does not show us it’s fullness. I think God is like that too, always there but not always showing the fullness of God. I am learning that my hope is not always in what God does but in who God is. My trust is not in what God does but in who God is. For too long I’ve been lookng at what God does and been disappointed but if I can look to who God is then I have hope, trust and joy even when there is a storm rampaging through my world. I can reach upwards for the stillness that is always promised which will give me the peace and strength to deal with the storms of here on earth.

I started horse riding only about 2 years ago, just before my 57th birthday. I did used to ride when I was in my teens but got more interested in boys and drinking than riding so gave it up 🙂 It was a challenge to restart. When lockdown came, of course things ceased, and then the stable I used to go changed direction and my friends, all women of a similar age, had to look for somewhere else to ride. This new stables is teaching me as much about my relationship with God as it is about riding.

“Let go of the reins and trust” my instructor tells me often. I have a fear of going too fast and not being in control. He keeps telling me that I need to trust the horse, not pull on its mouth so hard as that really does hurt the horse and believe that all will be well. Very much an analogy there of of how we need to trust God and not hold on to control so tightly.

“Sometimes I think you are more of a passenger on that horse” he said the other day when I was too scared to keep my legs on the horse. Keeping legs on keeps the power in the horse and keeps it moving. Without legs on the horse can slow and its front legs can go slower then its back legs and it can trip. Again with God how often are we passengers, just going along for the ride, not really engaged with what He’s up to?

Then here’s the bit you can feel sorry for me for a while but not for long. A week ago I fell off the horse I was riding and I think I’ve cracked a rib. If not cracked then bruised it badly and I’ve also bruised muscles down my right side and my right wrist. All very painful and painkillers are just touching the surface of the pain. Ok that’s the end of being sorry for me because the fall was my fault!!! I was just going into a canter, which I struggle to do because it frightens me. Not sure why but it is probably to do with trusting myself and the horse. So I pulled on the reins, which caused my poor horse to trip. As I started to slide outwards instead of using my body and leaning inwards and letting centrifugal force pull me back on, I reached for the fence that was rushing past me. Why I do not know! So as I fell my hand was at the top of the fence – not holding on I don’t think – but that is how I’ve bruised my wrist which has aggravated an old hitchhiking injury (that’s another story!!). But it also meant that the whole of my right side was stretched out and exposed. So when I hit the ground that was what I landed on. The fall was my fault!

I’ve been led here on the couch not able to do much but think (and feel sorry for myself!!) and have wondered how often we fall off on our Christian journey and blame everyone else but ourselves. We blame God, Church, fellow Christians, the mission organisation, the devil, the world, etc. But sometimes it is because we were scared, pulled the reins in too tight, leant the wrong way, grabbed for something we should not have done. And so we are battered, bruised, feeling weepy and tired, and not able to keep going for a while.

So on my journey with God I need to stay engaged, not hold on so tight and trust more in the process. Now I will just have to ponder what that looks like in practical ways for another blog post! 🙂