Christmas Poem 2019

And this is hope

Fragile shards of light

Pierce pinpricks through

The darkest night

And this is peace

This captured dream

Is gently bathed

In a starlight stream

And this is joy

In the vast expanse

Bright colours shine

Amid sparks that dance

And this is love

Whether we laugh or cry

Stars are scattered

Across the endless sky

And this is God

Dark and bright collide

And heaven chooses

To on earth reside

Merry Christmas!

Praying ... together

Of all the aspects which make up our life here, the prayer is the foundation around which everything else revolves. I genuinely believe that without it, it is not just the routine of the day which would change, but the whole of life, what I am involved in and capable of, which would look very, very different. Despite its centrality, it is something not easily defined. I believe there is an inherent value to the routine of prayer, without necessarily being able to articulate why.

From the beginning of our time here in Birmingham, it has always been important to us that the routine of prayer is consistent, and that the times of prayer are open and public. Often we pray alone, but we pray always with the possibility that may not be the case. There have been many, many challenges and barriers (in some cases literal ones) to ensuring this. There are struggles and frustrations. There are times when it seems almost impossible to continue.

And then, one morning or one evening, someone hesitates at the door. They ask tentatively about the prayer. They come in and join us.

Sometimes, they say little or nothing about the experience. Sometimes, they find a way to express very simply that it was what they needed, right then, in that moment.

We may or may not see them again.

In the midst of what can be a challenging environment in which to pray; these are the necessary reminders that perhaps we are doing something right.

NaNoWriMo

This is partly a post justifying why I haven't written a blog post for a while (which even if you noticed, you probably didn't mind!) but also a bit of a reflection of the writing-shaped-thing that took over the last month instead.

Several years ago I registered on the NaNoWriMo website. This year, for the first time, I actually attempted to complete this crazy challenge which consists of writing a novel (albeit a short one) in just one month.

The idea that I could possibly do this: to write 50,000 words in thirty days, without really giving up anything else or creating additional space in my already overloaded schedule was, frankly, bonkers.

Perhaps needless to say, I didn't manage it.

But, that said, I did commit to writing something, at least, every single day, for thirty days. Which I managed to stick to. In total, in November, I wrote 28,512 words. Which is quite a few.

By any normal standards, that feels like a phenomenal achievement.

So it is an interesting dynamic to still feel somewhat disappointed that I didn't "win" and write the full 50,000 words despite every little bit of my rational brain telling me that it really doesn't matter. I knew by about half way through the month I definitely wasn't going to hit the total. I tried to let go of the pressure of the word count and just enjoy the achievement of writing as much as I did. Mostly, I succeeded, but not entirely.

But if the word count was a pressure and a source of mild frustration or disappointment, it was also a motivation. I have often thought about wanting to do more creative writing, but the NaNoWriMo challenge encouraged me to make it a priority and, mostly, I genuinely enjoyed it. It will be interesting to see whether I manage to carve out time to continue.

A lot of it, unsurprisingly, isn't particularly good. Some of it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. There are plenty of badly written bits that don't scan and inconsistencies and general things that good writing doesn't have. But, in between, there are some bits that I think are perhaps reasonably well written. With a lot of editing some of it might, even, at some point, be something I'd be ready to share. No promises.

So yes, that was November.