Christmas

My custom is to invite single friends to my home for Christmas lunch. This year I thought I’d take a back seat. Ann Marie mentioned that she was organising Christmas lunch for people in church who were on their own. Originally she expected about 20 people, but in the end about 85 signed up – clearly there was a need for it! A collection was taken up in church to raise funds for the dinner and a chef volunteered his services. Ann Marie also organised a Secret Santa, where church members picked up tags, with a brief description of each guest, from the back of the church and bought for them a present worth up to £5.

The meal was of a high standard! I was placed on a table with a family from Borneo, and it was lovely getting to know them. We had a table of homeless guys next to us that Ann Marie had made friends with on Barnet streets, and I got talking to them too. They had to leave early though because they were desperate for a drink. John Coles, one of the vicars dressed up as Father Christmas, and dished out the Secret Santa presents. I got a Van Gough writing set. And then while his 3 children provided musical entertainment, a guest magician, Chris, moved around the tables performing the most amazing party tricks. It was a really good day.

On Boxing Day and on the 29th, I volunteered at one of the Crisis Christmas Homeless Shelters. We had a fairly decent building this time – didn’t smell of damp and was adequately heated. There were more advisors and Samaritans this year than in previous years. They put the homeless in touch with social services and agencies who help them out of homelessness in the year. We had skilled volunteers like doctors, dentists, opticians, entertainers, hairdressers, masseurs, manicurists etc. I always go as a general volunteer where you do odd jobs and mingle with the guests, but wish I had a practical skill to help out with next year. Maybe that could be my New Years Resolution?
Unfortunately, the shelter was full, and we had to turn away some people at the door. Consequently none of us general volunteers relished front gate duty. It was not pleasant as the people we turned away were understandably angry and called us names- but there was nothing else we could do – Fire Safety officers would have shut us down and then every one would have been out on the streets.
There were a few familiar faces from previous years – guests and volunteers. I am always struck by the fact that how normal these guys are and that ANYONE can be homeless. It is just by the grace of God that I am not. A group of Eritreans’, who didn’t speak much English, were pretty much on their own due to language barrier. I sat at a table with one of them, Berhane, and while trying to communicate, it came up that Eritrea had once been an Italian colony, and he spoke a bit of Italian. WELL…my Italian lessons FINALLY came in handy and even though we spoke in simple sentences and in pidgin Italian, we had a decent conversation. One of the other volunteers overheard us talking and joined in- speaking rapid Italian. Berhane frowned and said he understood me, and not the Italian!
The 29th was emotionally difficult because it was the last day the shelter was open. The weather for New Years Eve is predicted to be -5º, and to think that people whose names and faces I know will be out in that, my heart aches! I wish we could do more. The shift leaders assured us that they try to do as much as they can to help these guys. I just wish we could do more!
So that was my Christmas!

Christian behaviour

Once you tell people that you are a ‘practicing’ Christian, your life turns into a fish bowl. Every one expects you to behave like Mother Theresa, and to be honest most times it feels like they are all out to jump on to your every shortcoming with comments like “And you call yourself a Christian” “That wasn’t very Christian of you, was it?”
You've got the fundamentalists who just give Christianity a bad name, with their lack of love - I am thinking here of Westboro Baptist Church that picketed the funeral of a gay marine with anti-gay slogans in 2007. Like the family members didn't have enough grief to deal with!!
The guy, who tiled my bathroom floor a couple of years ago, is a Christian who showed very little integrity. He probably had 2 jobs going at the same time and was not honest about it…. And he did a shoddy job. When I pointed out some of the areas that needed re-doing, he said I was nit picking!!! For 500 pounds I will nit pick thank you very much!!! I was so upset to the point of incoherence that my flat mate who is used to dealing with difficult people stepped in to help. And then to cap it off, after ALL THAT, he attempted to evangelise to her. So embarrassing!

Yes I know I should take out the plank from my eye before I point out the splinter in my brother’s eye! I certainly can point to very un-Christian behaviour in my life - a lack of integrity at work, lying, gossiping, lack of chastity… the list is endless. And that’s just the outward behaviour… You wouldn’t want to know what goes on inside!

Sometimes it feels like the people in my world who are not Christians, are better Christians than I am.
Last weekend, as I was walking with a non Christian friend in West End, I ignored a woman who was begging on the side of the street. My companion stopped and fished for his last change (I know this because he literally emptied his wallet and pockets). A few seconds afterwards, he pointed out someone else who needed help. Embarrassed about my in-action with the ‘beggar’, I agreed to help. This woman was crying and engaged in the futile exercise of hailing a cab in a very busy section of Soho. They were all full. We tried our best to hail a cab for her and when that failed suggested that she moved further down where she was likely to catch one that was free. I even called 118 118 to see if there were any local cab firms about. Suddenly she started shouting at us like as if it was our fault she was not catching a cab. My friend looked at me imploringly
“ Kim, you’d better take over here cos I am at my wit’s end here” I tried to calm her down, make her see reason, but it just wasn’t working – she was distressed. Eventually she ignored our advice and went charging up the street, leaving us behind – so a failed attempt to help. Oh well!
But you know, I was really challenged by his compassion and willingness to get involved. Last month he organised an event and raised over 1000 pounds for Stop the Traffik- a global movement working to combat people trafficking.
I’ve become so blind to the needs around me, so caught up in a hedonistic, self-absorbed lifestyle. I am ok for displaying Christian qualities in church-organised events. Or helping out in the Crisis Homeless shelters at Christmas –and ignoring the homeless for the rest of the year. Maybe this is a wake up call for me to get off my arse and get involved. Being of an obsessive nature, there’s always the danger of getting over-involved to the point of ineffectiveness – it’s happened before. But maybe this time I will learn to establish some boundaries. I’ll start small… and aim to help one person a week? Is that too ambitious?
And perhaps I should keep surrounding myself with friends who display Christ's character, piggy back on to their efforts and learn from them.

Platonic = Fun

The soldier and I have exchanged text messages almost everyday. I have to remind myself that he only views me, in the words of Dawn Eden, as... 'a piece of meat - a rare an attractive piece of meat, deserving of the highest respect, but meat nonetheless.' *

Yesterday I told him that I have taken a vow of chastity and prefer to have great platonic relationships with men which are much more fun.
'Your shitting me, you must get really frustrated'
'I don’t! Can’t explain it but I really am quite content'
'That’s ok; I suppose it’s less complicated'

I haven’t heard from him since …

Speaking of great platonic relationships last Saturday a good friend Fredrik phoned me up and asked if I wanted to go with him for the Landscape Photographer of the Year free exhibition at the National Theatre (held from 17 November to 17 January). Freddy is into his photography and whilst the photos in themselves were stunning, he was a fount of knowledge regarding the different techniques used. Afterwards we strolled through the German market stalls along the South bank, bought fudge and drank mulled wine.
And then to the O2 Arena (formerly Millennium Dome) in North Greenwich. There was a merry go round that Freddy asked me to get on to whilst he took photos with his ever present camera. Got this lovely shot!

We then went into the Body Worlds & Mirrors of Time Exhibition in the 02 bubble (£14) by German Professor Gunther von Hagens or Doctor Death - an anatomical exhibition of real human bodies that have been preserved by a process called plastination. Apparently these people donated their bodies to be displayed. There were about 200 bodies!! This is one of a dancer. Once again, I find this western culture weird because in Uganda it is taboo not to bury your dead. Heck when I told my mom I wanted my organs to be donated and body cremated when I died, she almost had an apoplectic fit. (Fred is of the opinion that these were really German prisoners with no human rights who were killed for the exhibition). The exhibition wasn’t as creepy as I thought it would be because the bodies looked …well… plastic. The most impressive displays for me were the giraffe which towered about 30 feet above us and the fascinating foetuses at different stages of growth from week 2 to week 8. You can distinguish the features at week 8, and yet in this country it is legal to abort them! The theme of the exhibition was aging, death. At the end of it you are handed a Life Certificate

in recognition of resolve and committment to embrace a healthy lifestyle,

accept physical and intellectul challenges,

strive for fellowship, and live a purposeful life in longevity.

And then there is space for you to write down your personal committments to long and healthy life.
Fred cautioned me not to sign it, because that would give Doctor Death a reason to abduct, kill and use your body for his exhibition!

Hmm I think someone has been watching too many Sci Fi movies
It was a really chilled out day, and I wish I had more like that with guys!
They ARE a lot more fun!

* Chapter 1 (page 6) of 'The Thrill of the Chaste - finding fulfillment while keeping your clothes on' by Dawn Eden

This month's flava..

My personality is such that I prefer to deal in ABSOLUTES. If I can’t have exactly what I want, I’d rather do without. For example, I want a new Apple Mac, but can’t afford one at the moment, so won’t compromise and by the cheaper PC’s which I can.

And so with men!

Last Friday, I organised a karaoke night, in one of those clubs where there is also a dance floor. In the middle of my rendition of ‘Cheeky girls’, I felt arms around my waist and then move up and down my hips. I turned around and discovered that Little Sam is not that shy on the dance floor. He then tried to kiss me…’Hang on! He’s not old enough to do this’…. I pushed him away and wagged a finger at him “You are a dangerous boy! Dangerous!”
Ok he is 28 (but looks about 20) – so not so young, relatively good looking... short. He comes up to me most Sundays, mumbles hello then stands there leaving me to carry the conversation. It really is hard work as he isn’t terribly communicative. I try to ask open questions, in an effort to get at his “Hot Buttons” (you know? A subject that is important to him or he feels strongly about) but in the months that I’ve known him, the only thing I’ve got is his ACCA course and exams. (Yawn) Conversation is mainly one way as he never asks me questions, it's stilted and normally ends in awkward silence, with me looking busy with tech stuff, till he gets the hint and leaves!

After karaoke, while we were waiting for our respective night buses he tried to bring up what had happened. I decided not to help him out.
Sam “Did you have a nice time tonight”
Kim “Yeah, it was cool, A lot of fun”
He stood there biting his lip; I could see from the expression on his face that he was desperately trying to think up what to say next. Fortunately (for me) his bus arrived!
“There’s your bus! Hope you get home ok”
As he hugged me goodbye he whispered in my ear just before he boarded “Bye Kim, I love you!”
Kim “That’s nice, bye!”

For some reason I think he’s been planning to say this for months! I got home and found a message from him on Facebook “I love you my sweet! Hope you got home fine”
Then on Sunday after the service he came up to me at the AV desk and tried again. “Did you enjoy the other night!”
“Yeah! It was great””
He shuffled from one foot to the other while I busied myself on the computer looking through my pictures on Facebook. He couldn’t see what was on the screen and assumed I was doing tech team stuff. Finally he said
“Kim and her computer. Always busy”
I made an apologetic face” Yes! Really hectic time of the year. We’re kind of stretched at the moment”
Now at this point, my kind of man would have offered to join the team to help ease the burden. We HAVE sent out countless appeals for volunteers…Sam is just not my type.
I was going to set him straight after he had completed his tough Accountancy exam today. I got a text
"Exam's over! Now it's u all the way...darling" GROAN
I immediately picked up the phone and called him. Told him that I was not looking for a relationship that right now I think is my time to remain single and I'd prefer to just be friends with him. He seemed to take it with good grace, saying that if that was what I wanted then he would respect that. Phew!! Let's just hope it won't be awkward at church

It’s so strange that now when I am in a place where like Lieutenant Dan in Forest Gump, I have made my peace with God and I am happily single- NOW is when all the guys show up

Temptation in Bognor - a reminder of my humanity

I often hesitate to write Christian articles, because I’m not really an authority on Christian matters. I strongly believe that the mettle of your faith is tested outside the comfort zone of the ‘Four Walls’ of Church. Like mine was!

At Butlins, I’d been practising speaking Italian all weekend with the Sicilian couple in our Fancy dress group. Earlier in the day I’d remarked jokingly (??)
“Your boyfriend is cute, does he have a brother”
“Yes an older brother, Marko who lives in Rome. He’s single. We’ll hook you up with him!”
It was all going swimmingly well. So in the evening, I thought nothing of it when the boyfriend asked me to keep him company while he had a cigarette outside. Once we got there he grabbed me, pulled me tight against him, and his tongue was down my throat! The cheek of it…. and his girlfriend just upstairs? When I got over the shock (must admit it took a while because he was sooo cute) I gently disengaged and reminded him that he had a girlfriend, whom I happened to like a lot and I didn’t think we should be doing this. And what about hooking me up with your brother Marko?
“Pretend I am Marko for tonight”
“No…. think of your girlfriend. I’m not doing this to her. I like her”
He accepted this with a meek “Ok!” (he was trying it on really) and we went back in. The girlfriend didn’t seem to notice that we were avoiding each other. I felt really bad. I saw one of the guys in the group talking to her and I thought, Oh no, he must have seen us, he’s telling her that he saw us kissing, I’m going to get bitch slapped here. You know what women are like! They always blame the woman even though I didn’t initiate anything and took the moral high ground so to speak.

Remember the suited, bra & thong guys? My Australian roomy had made friends with them, and I chatted with one of them that afternoon. He’s in the army – which explained the nice body. Yes I'm sucker for muscles. I thought he was just being friendly but later on I realised this had been a ‘fishing expedition’ to establish that ‘the coast was clear’ before he could make his move. And make his move he did! Not in the unrefined grabbing way of the Italian. He took his time - clearly skilled in the art of seduction! In the disco, he hovered on the fringes of our group and then somehow manoeuvred me to himself, next thing we are slow dancing, he is making me laugh, then we are kissing. He was a good kisser; just the right height and I could feel his biceps through his shirt. And me, who until then had sworn that I was asexual, never feeling anything when I made out with guys, was REALLY struggling inside. When the tone started turning towards ‘Lets find a room’, I hastily excused myself and went to the Ladies; sent a text message to my mate SJ- never mind it’s the middle of the night, she’s in Nigeria and this is going to cost her!

“SJ, at moment I am very tempted to have sex with this guy. I am seriously turned on; he’s got a great body. Please pray for me LIKE NOW!”
A text straight back from her “I’m on it girl! Avoid bein alone & do WOTEVA IS NECESSARY 2 keep urself out o dangers way!”

Bless her heart!!!

Reinforced with SJ’s advice and prayers, I told him I was going to bed ON MY OWN and suggested that he take a cold shower and do the same. He walked me to my room, tried one last time to change my mind, but I held firm (…only just)

Okay so now it’s official. Italians like me, and I am not asexual. I’m not super human either, and not a very good Christian. If I was, I wouldn’t have got myself into that position in the first place. But I’ve also proven to myself that prayer works because the only way I didn’t go 'all the way' with this guy was through some serious DIVINE INTERVENTION. I read in 2 Corinthians 4: 7 (NLT) this morning,

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves

So true, So true

Skool Reunion at Butlins, Bognor Regis

Last Friday, 20 of us from the London Fancy Dress Group went to Butlin’s ‘Skool Reunion’ weekend. We descended on the coastal resort in Bognor Regis with about 4500 other revellers.
Butlins Holiday resort is England at its tackiest. It's littered with arcade machines, fast food restaurants, cheap looking bars, fun fairs, a water park with slides, cheesy holiday reps, the common sight of binge drinkers. Definitely not classy. In terms of accommodation, I went prepared for the worst (think cheap youth hostel with communal showers) so was pleasantly surprised that our twin bed chalets were clean, had ensuite bathroom and amenities like iron, kettle, TV. We paid for half board – which included breakfast and supper. Everyone in the group moaned about the food – for me it wasn’t too bad as I had been expecting the usual bland English affair... and that's what we got!

The atmosphere was festive and everyone smiled and talked to each other just like in Summer. A lot of silliness takes place. It’s great! There were a variety of interesting costumes on display. The ones that stood out were the 2 guys in dark suits who looked decent until they turned around to expose open backs showing the bras and thongs they were wearing underneath! In the Five Star concert, which I went to on my own because it clashed with Right Said Fred, I bonded with an ‘Amy Winehouse’ crew, and a group of ‘school girls’ who like me knew ALL the words, and dance steps to the songs, and screamed every time Stedman glanced our way! There was a lot of Super Heroes, a break dancing Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc, Surgeons, a Sheikh with his bodyguards, Cat women, The Joker from Batman dressed up as a nurse… I really miss having a camera!
Friday night, we dressed up as school girls – knee high socks, short tartan skirts, white blouses un-tucked and enough buttons undone to show a little cleavage. My roommate was a crazy Australian, who was there to get drunk and score with the boys. She kept going back to the room to top up her ‘fruit shoot bottle’ with the vodka that she’d snuck into the resort. A couple of other girls had the same goals. I don’t really like vodka, and I couldn’t keep up with them – so gravitated towards the Mediterranean’s in the group. It was great hanging out with them as they did not have social barriers in expressing themselves; greeting with hugs and kisses, a touchy feely group – reminded me of the guys I grew up with back home.
Saturday, we went as netball teams and had a private room cocktail party in Room 3.
Sunday we dressed up as old ladies (the boys too!!), and played Bingo in the Irish Bar, which according to Andy, our Fancy Dress group organiser, was ‘Boring in an intense kind of way’. Afterwards went for a fencing lesson.
Quite funny sword fighting dressed up as old ladies. Watched football and later on changed into 80’s themed outfits for the night’s entertainment. There was live entertainment every evening with old pop acts from the 80’s like Right Said Fred, 2 Unlimited, Five Star, Bewitched, 911; a really good tribute band for The Madness called Complete Madness.
Butlins is not for everybody though. A couple of Americans in our group, left after just one night. Apparently one of them ripped her fingernail. I don’t know what they’d been expecting, but we figured that maybe it was just too tacky for them and they were looking for an excuse to leave. Having fun is pretty much an attitude, and life is what you make of it. The appealing thing about Fancy Dress parties is that people let down reserve and slip into character of the costume, sometimes their alter egos. I was taken aback when my Aussie roomy told me that she was a Matron (so quite senior) at a London hospital.
I felt like I bonded with the group and I am looking forward to our Christmas party

Let’s meet up sometime!

If I had to pick a phrase that I utterly loathe in the English language, then this would be it!
It's
So vague
So open-ended
So inactive
So lazy

In fact, I may not be very fluent, but I'm almost 100% sure such a phrase does not exist in my mother tongue, Runyoro.

Back in the day, I used to say it a lot. Weeks, months, YEARS even, would go by… and ‘Some Time’ would never materialise.
Last month, I had a telephone conversation with a friend, which ended with him saying
“I really enjoyed this conversation. We should do this more often. Let’s get together sometime”
I responded, “When you say, let’s get together sometime, do you have a specific date in mind? Because if there isn’t, I can see us having this telephone conversation in a few months time, ending with the same sentiments… until the next telephone conversation”
There was a pause on the other end
Him: “You know, now that you say it, that is actually true. I never thought of it that way” We arranged to meet for drinks the following week

The first thing he told me was
“You know what you said the other day really challenged me.”
Apparently he was speaking to another friend, whom he hadn’t seen in a while, and was just about to end the conversation in his usual fashion, when he stopped himself and then made a definite appointment. In that moment, he realised this why he had drifted away from so many friends over the course of the years.

Now I can 'see' you my fellow Africans howling! "We are not ‘bazungu*’ who always make appointments to see people."
Tell me! When is the last time you met up with your friends… YES… you who live in London on your own, and the only contact you make with your friends is either by telephone or email. Do you even know what they look like these days?
(Don’t get me started on that particular peeve of mine. I hate the way phones have replaced face-to-face communication!)

Life in London is way too busy for vague phrases like ‘Let’s meet up sometime’

* white person or foreigner in Swahili language

bfm (black film maker) International Film Festival

I heard about this festival by chance. The person who told me about it, incidentally heard about it by chance too! All the people I talked to hadn’t heard about it either. And this was quite a significant event because it was the Festival's 10th Anniversary plus it had a lot more British film directors this time around in a field that is usually dominated by American film makers. I think Bfm’s publicity department will need to rethink it's marketing strategy!

On Tuesday I went to the British Film Institute for the black short film awards, hosted by Tameka Epsom (of ‘Three Non Blondes’ fame). She was very funny, but had a tendency to go on….and on….
The films screened were,
1) ‘Much Ado About A Minor Ting’, directed by Jesse Lawrence, set in the gang culture of Ladbroke Grove. It was funny and exaggerated in some places, but disturbing for me as I watched the dangerous reality teenagers have to contend with daily. It won best cinematography award
2) ‘Survivor’ directed by Nicole Volavka – dealt with the subject of political refugees and the lingering trauma suffered by them. I could relate to this film because I was born a refugee - my parents could not go back to Uganda during Idi Amin’s regime. The film struck home for me because it related to people from the countries of Sudan and Rwanda - which border Uganda. People here have no empathy for the immigrants who have suffered tremendously. I cried afterwards– for the characters in the film or for myself... I'm not sure. It won best script award.
3) ‘Man, Broken’ directed by Pezhmaan Alinia, about a man’s grief after the murder of his child on the streets. This was about 5 minutes long and I couldn’t believe it when I saw the credits rolling. Personally I thought, it needed a bit more? I had to choke back a laugh when the director said that it took him 6 months to do the film. 6 MONTHS?
4) ‘Win, Lose or Draw’ directed by Lawrence Coke concerning the experiences of the first Jamaican arrivals in the 1960’s. It was a mix of documentary, interviews with people who had come over on the Windrush and drama. The audience picked it as their best film
5) ‘One Of Us’, directed by Clint Dyer concerning the dilemma of a boy choosing between his career and that of his close friends.

Interesting evening! The freebies were also quite good – books by black writers. Makes a refreshing change from hair products!
I wouldn’t be me, if I didn’t comment on the nice selection of good-looking Brothers in the house! Afterwards while we were mingling at Benugo’s bar, listening to the sounds of Blacktronica, I had to restrain myself from gushing.

I think I should attend events like these more often ;-)

At the Ally Pally Fireworks, 8 November 2008

From left to right: Mikey, me, Krystle, Beth and Stuart

Jumping On The OBAMANIA Wagon

Barack Obama’s election for me, just made my day
My eyes were glued to the TV all afternoon watching the news replaying the moment his election was announced, the scenes of jubilation in America (and Kenya!), tears rolling down Jesse Jackson’s face, the MAN himself, and that speech! I was crying and laughing at the same time and floated on this high to Home Group, wanting to talk about it and rejoice.
Julian brought up the subject
“I know you are not from Kenya, but Uganda is pretty close by. You must be really pleased about Obama’s election”

Me: “Yeah, it’s a good thing, not just for Kenyans, but for all black people everywhere”
Martin, says: “You mean it’s not a good thing for white people?”
He said it in such an aggresive way that I didn’t even bother to respond to him. I wished that I had gone to my black friends celebration, because they would appreciate this momentous occasion.

The fact is, racism exists in Britain, institutionalised, mostly subtle but sometimes outright. There’s this false belief that UK doesn’t have it as bad as the USA.

Unless you are from an ethnic minority group, you probably won’t be affected by it. Martin, being white middle class, wouldn't experience it at all!

A black friend once told me that in school when she went for guidance on pursuing a career in children’s social work, the careers advisor told her she was wasting her time and should consider a career in sports or music. Perhaps the advisor meant well, after all these 2 areas appear to be the places where black people make a success of things

Benjamin Zephaniah sums it up in his poem ‘Three Black Males’*

We are only in white nations
When we win them gold in sports

What if you aren’t gifted at sports or music? What’s the point in trying anything else?
The only role models we have in any positions of influence are a mere handful. And even they tend to distance themselves from our community, moving out to more ‘respectable’ (read…non-black) neighbourhoods, marrying and raising their kids ‘white’. The irony is that in this society, if you have ‘a drop of black, you is black.’ When the poor kids come out of their cocoon, they experience a culture shock because they discover that they are still victims of the stereotyping that their parent tried to get away from. And it hurts them worse, because they didn’t see it coming.

My pet peeve is when Africans change their name to something that sounds more ‘western’ to improve their career prospects. I was horrified when my niece changed her last name to ‘Brown’. Why on earth would you WANT to work in a place that won’t hire you because your name sounds foreign? Obama has proved that you can still rise to the highest office in a nation, in the world even, with a foreign sounding name?

So after this rant, how do I end this?

If Obama’s election has achieved anything, it has shown the changing perceptions of black people in today’s world. I acknowledge that his rise was not a solo effort. Lots of people like Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr, the whole civil rights movement, even Condoleeza Rice, helped to pave the way for him.
Obama has challenged and overcome some of the stereotypes, and I have hope that my little black nephew, who is only 6 now, will have a better chance of pursuing his dreams. Who knows, these dreams may take him in the direction of sports or music (the last I heard I think it was super hero), but at least I know with such a powerful example of Obama, he’ll have the freedom to know that these aren't the ONLY options.

God bless Barack Obama. Keep him and family safe May he have a successful term in office. (Heck even 2 terms in office!!) Guide his decisions; surround him with advisors who want him to succeed, and not fail!

Is Jesus the answer?

There’s someone I know whose behavioural pattern is on a downward spiral. He is drowning in credit card debt, has no permanent home, a dead end job, a son he can’t relate to, a string of failed relationships…

A close friend is considering leaving her husband of 2 years. They are from opposite ends of the social stratum; she is a doctor, he is/was a rubbish collector. When they met, she thought she could inspire him to pursue a career as a chef, and for a while he went along with it. But after 2 years of being in and out of jobs, he is now unemployed. He hates chef work and has recently been diagnosed with epilepsy and now considers himself ‘disabled’. He shows no sign of wanting to work, stays at home all day, and when she comes home tired from a long shift at the hospital, their bed is unmade; there are still dishes in the sink. She is wondering whether she made a big mistake marrying this guy. “I want a man who can look after me. A man who has ambition... he isn’t that man”...

A work colleague has been diagnosed with an illness, which means she has to take steroids to control it. These affect her moods and make her extremely ill tempered and depressed. She is in her mid 30’s, from a culture where if you are still single at that age, you are despised. Because she is unmarried, it falls to her to shoulder the responsibility of looking after her elderly and sick mother. She has no life of her own, is frustrated, “I just want to fly away, just get away from this place…”

And then there’s me. Floating along in life with no purpose or direction, LONELY, unable to form close relationships due to a fear of being vulnerable and of rejection.
Disappointed that after 18 years this ‘ personal relationship with Jesus’ hasn’t yet materialised. I cast off the yoke of religious ritual which had proved futile in getting close to God, so that I could embrace him. And now it seems I exchanged one set of rituals for another. It seems to me that the only way to get close to God is to die and be with him.

Is Jesus the answer?

Last weekend I treated myself to a day out at Madame Tussaud’s. I’ve been keeping close tabs on my expenditure this month – writing down everything I spend. But as I was feeling so low all week after the disastrous interview, I thought, ‘Sod it! I’ll indulge and spend £25 pounds on myself.”
I had a ‘buy one get one free ticket’ voucher and asked little Ollie to hang out with me. This was quite handy because he brought along his camera and acted as my photographer. Some of the wax works were really lifelike e.g. Samuel L Jackson and the Queen. Others weren’t so good, like Will Smith. There were too many women lining up to take a picture of the George Clooney holding their hand and gazing into their eyes, so missed out on that one. Angelina and Brad also had a long queue. I took pictures with Morgan Freeman, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Shirley Bassey, Justin Timberlake, Robbie Williams, Tiger Woods, Charles Dickens and Mr T. We couldn’t get into the Chamber of Horrors because they asked for an extra £3, which I thought was quite cheeky. The last ride was called the ‘Spirit of London’ where you sit in little taxis and go slowly around a mini roller coaster through waxworks depicting the history of London from Queen Victoria times todate. As you come out the ride a camera flashes and takes a photo - I came out looking very dark and bewildered (the lighting is never any good for us dark people).
We had lunch at Pizza Express courtesy of another buy one get one free meal voucher. Then we took a stroll through Regents Park, Freize Art Festival’s sculpture garden. Ollie kept referring to it as crap, saying that the money could have been better spent on people in the Third World who really need it… but he likes the Tate Modern art gallery?? which in my opinion is no different.

The skull was made from recycled tin cans. In the other photo, a reluctant Ollie forced to pose with a sculpture. Such enthusiasm! We rounded off the day at Hillsong London which was ok… it was the usual Hillsong. My little friend was impressed with the technical side of things, e.g. the lighting and visuals. But like me, thought that the sound mix was terrible – couldn’t really hear the vocals over the loud instruments. Also the sound engineer could have had less volume on the kick drum during the quiet ministry moments. The sermon was good because it talked about the Law, and how Jesus fulfilled it for us already. A timely reminder!

Tough Interview

On Friday I had an interview for a job as a trainee Internal Auditor.

I haven’t had an interview in ages, so was cacking it all week! I took 3 days off to buy an outfit, get my hair sorted and have a mock interview with Jeff! "You've got the job!", he said!
I couldn’t even go for my Home group or band practice because was really nervous!

To say it was a tough interview is a bit of an understatement. The only positive thing is that one of the guys on the panel had a nice smile, and genuinely seemed to want to help me during the interview by rephrasing questions.
On reflection, I guess there were too many rephrased questions, and on my part, vague, unspecific answers which does not bode well. They liked me, but I could sense a certain disappointment as I did not give them the answers they were looking for!

Now all I need to do is put it far from my mind! Instead I keep replaying the interview over and over again, chastising myself for not saying this or that! When friends ask me about it, I give a non-committal answer, however, if they keep pressing for more information, the tears start rolling!

Change the topic then!

I do not look forward to the interview results.

Electronic Misadventure

It all started when my mobile, Nokia 6630 fell in the toilet! Okay, that was my fault – I mean who puts their mobile in the back pocket! It was destroyed. At the time I wasn't particularly bothered. I have a spare Nokia 3310, which I use when travelling abroad. It’s nothing fancy and usually quite reliable. This time though it hs let me down. It won’t even charge.
Fortunately for me, my sister had left her spare Nokia 6030 at my house by mistake and I…ehem… appropriated it for my own use! You can imagine the horror I felt when last weekend, as I was about to cross a busy main road, it slipped out of my hands and fell right onto the road! I stood by in utter helplessness as first a car went by- missing it by a fraction. There was a short interval in the traffic, a brief flicker of hope…it just might make it… only to be crushed when the next car just smashed it. Ohhhhh!!!!!
My sister took pity on me and gave me her other spare phone, Samsung SGH – D500 with instructions that I had to be extra careful with this one because it had precious photos and valuable contact information on it.
“I will guard it with my life!” I vowed earnestly.
This morning, as I was sending a text message, the screen froze and WENT BLANK! It has REFUSED to go back to normal. Even when I switch it on and off, take out the battery.... nothing, NADA, NIENTE!!!

I think it has died!! What am I going to tell my sister!!!

And it isn't just the phones! My office laptop is to be replaced for the 3rd time this year!!! When the IT guy attempted to rebuild it, there was a server/user name conflict, which he has been unable to resolve. 2 weeks no laptop. This laptop at home, after it has had enough (30 minutes), freezes. Ctrl-Alt-Del has no effect...in fact that freezes too!!!I am always rebooting it! It also does not like the new Facebook format!

The lens on my beloved Canon IXUS 800 IS camera has started malfunctioning too. Either it doesn’t focus at all, or if it does, when I take a photo, it comes out as over exposed or with white lines going through it!

I am wondering. Is this an attack of the enemy to get me down? I’ve got to admit, I am feeling quite frustrated. It isn’t funny anymore!
Or is there something about me that is causing these electronic things to act up around me. Granted with the mobiles, my clumsiness played a part, but the non-charging of one, and freezing of the other??? How do I explain that?
A former colleague who was into Eastern stuff told me that my computer was acting up because according to Feng Shui, it was affected by my mood and I needed to calm down! I was in a particularly bad mood that day.
I don’t know much about Feng Shui, and have always dismissed it as superstitious nonsense. Perhaps I should read up on it although the whole 'energy' thing freaks me out… but now I am thinking, is what is happening to my electrical equipment a reflection of the negative nervous emotional state within? This morning I was feeling emotionally drained. I only got a couple of hours sleep because I’ve come down with a cold and nose was bunged up. I was also crying a lot because of a discussion I had had with a non-Christian friend that evening, who has closed his heart and mind to God. And then the phone stopped working. Any connection there?

Can an inanimate object be affected by my moods?

Reflections on religion,freedom and the Shawshank Redemption

Last night I watched the final scene in the Shawshank Redemption.
The character played by Morgan Freeman; ‘Red’, has been released from prison and while he is at his job bagging groceries, he catches the attention of the store manager and asks, “Personal break boss?”

The manager beckons him over and says, “You don’t need to ask me every time you need to go take a piss… just go…Understand?
Afterwards, Red reflects,

“40 years I’ve been asking permission to piss. I can’t squeeze a drop without say so. There’s a harsh truth to face, no way am I going to make it on the outside. All I do anymore is think of ways to break my parole so maybe they’d send me back. Terrible thing to live in fear, Brooks Hatlin knew it, knew it all too well. All I want is to be back where things make sense where I won’t have to be afraid all the time…”

The thing with my traditional religious upbringing is that I became as institutionalised as Red. For so long I’d been told what to believe, how to pray, how to please God, even more so, how to anger God. Everything was structured, predictable...
Becoming a Christian broke my neatly ordered world. This should be a good thing right? But then why do I feel that I am in a kind of free fall with no parachute. Or like a surfer caught in a rip tide, drifting out to sea, helpless against the strong currents
Nothing is black and white. Issues like homosexuality, faith, healing are still grey areas and open to personal interpretation. I cannot rely anymore on unchallenged liturgies, catechisms, and sacraments to tell me what to believe.
There are no formulas because...

“God is not a vending machine”,

"God is not tame",

"He cannot be manipulated".

With no rosaries or books of common prayers to help me, I find it difficult to even find the ‘right’ words with which to pray. I struggle to have faith in a God who may or may not choose to heal or save people; or to be a witness to the boundless love of this God in the face of human… even Christian... suffering. I cannot in all honesty testify that the Holy Spirit can transform your life, when mine, 18 years down the line, is still unchanged, selfish and rotten to the core.
And I am afraid because I don’t know how I can claim to be Christian and yet have such treacherous thoughts. I’m like the Israelites, who having escaped slavery, longed to go back to Egypt, the place of their captivity.

Or as more recently portrayed in the movie, the Matrix, by Cypher, who having become disillusioned with the grim existence in the real world, betrays Neo to the Agents because he prefers his old life of ignorance within the matrix.

"Ignorance is bliss" , he says

But is it?

I recognise that ‘religion’ was a kind of prison, and I broke away from it because I felt it was lacking something. But it was easy and the rules of engagement were clearly defined. You didn't have to think for yourself because others did it for you

Religion = safe, secure, predictable

Christianity= dangerous, uncertain, unpredictable, SCARY!

I'm torn because, as Red said in the movie, I want to be back where things make sense where I won’t have to be afraid all the time.
Yet, I don’t want to miss out! I don’t even know what it is I don’t want to miss out on. I don't want to go back to the emptiness, hollowness of religion, and yet I don't want to keep on feeling...unstable

Snapshot

So it’s been a bit quiet on the blogging front- there appears to be NO movement in the blogosphere – so it isn’t just me

• Credit card bill is currently £1200+ - How did that happen?
• Weight back up to 14 stone – when did that happen?
• New job is going ok now. I’ve made a new best friend, Carlton
• Jonathan not going out of his way to talk to me. The most I get is a brief nod! And then last week after 5.00pm service, I hung about (without being too obvious) to have a chat, and he just blanked me. Okay so maybe he really wasn’t in to me
• My VERY young admirer, Sam introduced me to his grandmother and brother who were visiting from America. Sam is cute but is probably 25? Last week he said ‘jokingly’ that he would like to travel to Italy with me next year… was he was flirting? I can’t tell because I am so rubbish at flirting.
• I fluked an invitation to a celebrities party, David and Carrie Grant’s. Their sitting room is as big as my whole flat and they’ve got a nice swimming pool. I had a camera but felt it wouldn’t be ‘appropriate’ to take photos. Now I wish I had for 'vidence'! I indulged in the free expensive champagne and Baileys – got very drunk, said some strange things to my vicar and played with David Grants dreadlocks (cringe). A friend insisted on driving me home. I don’t think I’ll be invited again!! (now you see why I should have taken photos?)
• My mobile phone fell into an un-flushed toilet! Can’t really afford a new one, so I nicked my sister Ngonzi’s spare handset to use with my sim card, that she’d left at my flat by mistake. When she came over to my flat last week I removed it out of sight from the sitting room to the bedroom. However that girl must have some kind of radar because she went straight for my bedroom and said “Hey isn’t that my phone?” So busted!!! She's let me keep it. Phew!!!
• Attended the Thames Festival. Really liked the Korean entertainment.
• Attended my first emergent church worship service at St Mary’s Ealing… hmm don’t really know what to make of it. There was stuff that I liked about it. We sat, I lay down, on bean bags, the visuals were stunning. I really liked the music, Holy Communion, creating a mosaic out of broken tile bits to represent our brokenness and the prayer of commitment at the end. However, I hated the chant (i.e. kind of like Gregorian’ish) and can’t understand why they didn’t refer to Jesus by name
• Ugly Betty, Desperate Housewives and X Factor are BACK!!!
• I start my Italian classes tomorrow!!!
  

A Victim of Fraud!

I couldn't believe it when I saw it!

£125 visa payment to 'Month End Money, Internet' on the 29 August 2008. Who the hell are 'Month End Money'???

I was checking my bank account online on Sunday night, when I spotted the payment. There was simply no way I could have spent £125 in one go, and then to a company I'd never even heard of!

Thank God I found out about it this way. Just last week my friend Emily discovered that she was also a victim of credit card fraud when her card payment was declined. She was understandably embarrassed and in shock, because she'd only JUST got the card, and had not used it much. When she requested a statement from the credit card company, she found someone had spent up to £1500!! £125 seems tiny by comparison!!
I got on to the phone straight away to my bank. Fortunately they have a 24 hour phone line... Good Old Nationwide!!... and had the card stopped. Next day I phoned their Special Investigation branch to explain that a fraudster had gotten hold of my card details. I could not understand how this could happen since I hardly ever use it online. The lady I spoke to explained that you only have to use your card once... if someone on the other end is dishonest, they will use your details to make unauthorised transactions. These things are commonplace. The bank have re-creditted the money.
I've become paranoid now. I keep checking my account every few hours!

I don't have any cash on me, my replacement card is arriving in 5 - 7 working days and I have no time to go into my local bank branch to withdraw money.
It sucks really

Barcelona

My trip to Barcelona was interesting

Perhaps I should start with the lowlights
I couldn’t really afford the trip and have stuck the cost of flight and accommodation onto my credit card. The only good thing is that I stuck to my spending budget of less than £100
I’d learnt that a group of guys from church would be in Barcelona at about the same time as me and we had agreed to meet up for dinner. However this did not happen for various reasons… I must admit I feel some slight rejection… but I’ll get over it
My friend from LA, Delan has been living in Barcelona for the last 4 months and was very enthusiastic about my visit. He took us to his friend’s restaurant, Dos Trece, which is also a cocktail and music bar. I was grateful for the non-smoking zone. Following the smoking ban in England in public places, I’ve become accustomed to the pleasant smoke free atmosphere. The smell of smoke in Spain can be quite overwhelming. After our meal, at the invitation of one of the girls I’d met in the loo, we went downstairs to the lounge where a live band was playing. I met such a variety of interesting (English speaking) people. There was the middle aged Indian couple visiting their son who works as a teacher in Barcelona. The wife showed us photos they’d taken with a drag queen in another restaurant, “I hadn’t realised it was a man!” There was also an intense German guy who was into Eastern stuff like Feng Shui etc. When he was talking to Yati I noticed her eyes glazing over… We finished off the evening at Jamboree jazz and dance club on Plaza Reial. Downstairs is the hip-hop/ R&B room and upstairs cheesy 80’s style music. I attracted the attention of an overly amorous Nigerian guy. It was okay when we were dancing together – winding, grinding, *snogging*… but when the club closed and the crowd moved towards the beach to watch the sun rise, I was surprised that he latched on to me. Apparently, I am so beautiful… he wants to hold me, kiss me, squeeze me, make love to me. He said he'd pay for me to come back to Barcelona to spend time with him! (Sigh) He wasn’t bad looking, but for me there was just no chemistry. Plus his idea of ‘getting to know me better’ was purely physical and I am just not on that ‘page’ at the moment.

Barcelonians attitude to naked people is quite interesting. That morning at the beach there was a naked guy running about. Okay… it’s 6.30am… not many people around so that’s alright? But then again in the middle afternoon, we spotted ANOTHER naked guy, walking down the busy main street, Passeig de Gracia, seemingly oblivious to the open mouthed stares he was drawing from the tourists! Delan assured us that this was commonplace and not against the law. He’d have been arrested for indecent exposure in London!

Boredom

If it seems pretty much like posting overload, that’s probably because it is

I volunteered to move to a different team at the beginning of August and now think this was a terrible mistake. It made a lot of sense at the time - an opportunity to do something different. Also the new office is closer to home, so instead of one and half hours it only takes 20 minutes to get to work. I’ve even cycled in a couple of times.

Geographical location is about the only positive thing about the job so far! 2 weeks in and I’m sitting at my desk, watching the clock, twiddling my thumbs and blogging. On Monday I could not bring myself to come in and took a ‘sickie’. Today I almost cried as I left the house. Some friends have said that I should enjoy the fact that I’m getting paid for doing nothing. But that’s just not me! I’m going slowly insane from inactivity!
I’ve tried to find something to do… honestly. I’ve been badgering my new manager but he’s gone off on leave; I keep sending emails to my old manager- who has now absolved himself of all responsibility. I’ve volunteered for a project in another team that was desperate for help, but no one has got back to me. I have a mentor in the new team, who is fond of planning meetings, but not very good at implementation. I gave myself a pep talk at lunchtime

“Change your attitude! Look for something to do. Get creative”

I’m bored and there’s still one more day to go to the weekend! What will I do tomorrow?

Listening

Despite the Great Commission and my 'call' to evangelism, I'm not much of an evangelist. I think I've only shared the gospel with ONE person at work in the whole 9 years that I've been working there. I'd like to say that I've distinguished myself as a Christian, with 'this little light of mine' shining bright, but alas my attitude to and quality of work has been more of less the same, if not worse than my fellow 'unbelieving' colleagues; I often join in with the office gossip, laugh at the crude jokes (some of them can be quite funny) and my language at times, can be colourful.
So I'm not evangelising in word or deed. Occasionally I DO pray for my 'unsaved' friends, family and colleagues, but that's about it.

Yesterday I went out for lunch with a work colleague. She's been having a really rough few months with health, family, (our) dead end job etc and it became quite clear into the lunch that all she really wanted was someone to listen. So I did.
This particular person is a devout Catholic, but at the same time dabbles in occult practices such as tarot cards, palm reading, consulting mediums. As she was talking, I silently prayed to the Holy Spirit for guidance. Should I hit her HARD with the gospel?
No answer was forthcoming
As the lunch hour was drawing to a close, before I could think it over, I blurted out
"Okay, shall we pray about this? Do you mind?"
"You mean pray now?"...
"Mmhmm"...
"No, no I don't mind"
I prayed a simple prayer and my last words to her as we parted were

"God will turn this situation around. I don't know how, but He will"

Afterwards I got a text from her thanking me for listening, her spirits had been lifted her and she thought I was a true daughter of God.

I felt a bit pleased about that. Even though it isn't proper evangelising, I pray that I have sown the seed of God's hope into her life
Now Father please do something about her situation...In Jesus name I pray!

Missing In Action

I haven't seen Jonathan for the last 2 weeks... wonder where he's disappeared to. Was going to ask his flatmate last Sunday, but decided against it at the last minute
hmm...

Reasons for joining a church?

“So how come you go to an ‘all white’ church… is it because you like white guys?”

I was a bit puzzled with this line of reasoning. I’ve been mulling over that one all day.

First of all, I am attracted to handsome men with good physique, charm, self-confidence, an outgoing personality, creative bla bla bla. I relate easier to guys from a similar background… educated, middle class. and would only think of ‘Race’ in terms of stereotypical behaviour normally associated with it e.g. I’m more inclined towards Italians and Poles because all the ones I’ve met have been warm, funny and direct, Germans -tortured neurotic souls, American (men) – shallow, English- tight-assed until you put a bit of alcohol into them!!

I was offended that she would even suggest that the only reason I came to St B’s was such a superficial one. Joining a church is akin to entering into a marriage - the start of a (hopefully) life long relationship with God’s people, with Him at its centre. A place where you will invest your time, money, emotions… I can’t put a finger on why I decided to become a member of St B’s. I’d been ‘churchless’ for a few months and was captivated by the first service I attended there. It was Advent Sunday- a Family service (where kids don’t go to Sunday school but stay in the main service). I loved the interactive games, worship; the fact that a woman, Helen, was preaching the sermon; the tea, coffee and biscuits served throughout the service; the humility of the church leaders, the simplicity… the whole informality of it all… THE FREEDOM. The verse 2 Corinthians 3:17 ‘…where the Lord’s Spirit is, there is freedom’ springs to mind. It just felt… right.

Race didn’t feature at all in this decision.

St B’s isn’t a perfect church. It’s taken a while to make friends, I still feel slightly isolated because of my age – too old to interact socially with the Singles- too young in attitude to interact with my (mostly all married) age group. There’s the behind-the-scenes church politics going on, a few disgruntled people, gossip, and the very humanness of people that can be pretty hurtful. But I love my ‘St B’s family’ all the same.

The person who asked the question is American; where Race is a BIG issue. She is also completely obsessed with guys, marriage, and babies - a mindset that I am gradually getting over (I mean the guys and marriage bit). Until she mentioned it, I wasn’t even particularly bothered by the ‘white churchiness’ apart from maybe the ‘Indie’ worship music, and people’s inability to harmonise!!! There are very few of us blacks in St B’s, along with the Japanese, Indians, and a couple of Polish. I’d say our 3% ethnic minority demographic is representative of most of the UK.
All I want to do now is concentrate on living a productive Single life – not one where I am on hold waiting for a guy to come along and complete me.

Edinburgh

I discovered many things about myself – aside from the neurosis

Firstly – I don’t like damp weather… and Scotland has plenty of it

Secondly – I crave for ‘belonging’. Let me explain

My friend Sheila shares a flat with 2 Polish guys. Because she was busy with her dissertation, I spent most of my time with them. It was quite a full house as there were a couple of other guests staying over too, and in the evenings, other friends would drop by. They were almost like a close knit family– but not insular or cliquey at all
The first day, as they congregated in one of the rooms I hovered awkwardly in the kitchen. They called out to me to join them were careful to speak only English around me (a courtesy my Ugandan relatives should note) but I also urged them to teach me a few more Polish words and now my vocabulary has extended to

Djienkuye - Thank you
A prosha – You’re welcome
Ala chad – That’s cool
Zaiye bische- That is great
Nie- No
Tak – Yes
Gen Dobre – good day
Dobre Nos – good night

The spelling is way out but doesn’t matter as long as I can say them correctly!

In turn, they were genuinely interested in me, asking questions about my life, interests, religion. We had a long discussion about Buddhism and Christianity.
Before I knew it, a beer was pressed into my hands; we were laughing; out came the guitar, ukulele and harmonica; we composed a silly song and recorded ourselves singing it – collapsing into hysterical laughter at the end of it.
IT WAS FANTASTIC!!
That set the trend for the rest of my stay- hanging out and really bonding with them. On my last evening, we went out on the town together, joined by a Scotsman and Spaniard. These guys aren’t exactly earning a lot of money- I earn more - but they insisted on paying for all my drinks and generally looked after me.
It made me realise how I miss being part of a community. In London, we just don’t take the time. There is a distinct lack of spontaneity which is necessary to forge close friendships. I’ve only ever felt this kind of community with non-Christian friends – why is that I wonder?
So now, I’m on a mission to discover more Polish friends because I admire their way.

Quick one

Still feeling a bit sleep deprived after Poland trip. It was way too short, got there on Friday night, Saturday was taken up with Mark and Ewelina's wedding, and then thanks to Ryanair changing their schedule, an early morning flight back to London. I didn't really do anything touristy. My lingering impression though is that the Poles are very generous, warm people. On Saturday morning I helped pick rose petals from Kryscik's (my host) family allotment. As we were leaving his parents bombarded me with home grown apples and gherkins . The latter, I subseqently learnt, are a Polish delicacy. I look forward to going again next year for Izabela and Kryscik's wedding
Off now to Edinburgh for the Fringe festival. Overwhelmed by amount of choice - a search on the website brought up 2000+ items! Kind of hard to narrow it down because I don't know what is good... what sucks... I'll see

Over Analysing

On Sunday after Service, as I was walking up to the High road to catch a bus, Jonathan, (remember... from the 20-30’s cluster barbeque?) ran up and asked where I was going. I thought he was headed in the same direction and just wanted to walk with me until he mentioned that he had a car, and would I like a lift? Of course! I can’t say no to a lift! When we got to the High Road, he offered to take me further and drop me at my destination… I noticed we took the scenic route...
When I got home, I mentioned this to Shifa and Yati and they became so excited that I had to reel them in,

“The guy is just being friendly and you guys are already planning the wedding”

If I’m being honest on a certain level I am a little excited. I’m not used to people (especially Christian guys) wanting to be friends. There are a lot of desperate single women in the church and guys tend to avoid us single women altogether because the slightest friendly gesture is often misinterpreted. Its true! We read too much into these things- encouraged along by our girlfriends.

Now Jonathan… he is nice looking… a bit on the skinny side (It’s okay, I can work with skinny, just feed him and strongly encourage him to go to the gym...unless of course he is like my cousin Carole who CANNOT put on weight no matter how hard she tries)...I think he is about 27 … is in prayer ministry team… laughs at my jokes… the colour scheme for the wedding will be red and gold… engagement party to take place in Uganda with wedding at St Barnabas… Hmm I wonder what my name will look like with his surname – should we make it double barrelled with a hyphen in the middle.

Women, eh?

Natasha Bedingfields’ song ‘I Want to Have Your Babies’ nicely sums it up. In the song’s video she is in a session at the gym with a gorgeous Personal trainer, and you see those little ‘imagination bubbles’ pop up on the screen with her thinking about their babies together. The guy totally oblivious. The bridge of the song goes

‘Trust me it would scare you
If you knew what was going on in my brain
Trust me it would scare you
That I picked out the church, or the schools or the names’

Oh yeah, if Jonathan had heard that conversation with my girls, he would scuttle

I don’t want to read any more into it, and will choose to believe that I’m not being singled out for special attention and he is probably the same way with all his female friends

In the meantime I think I’ll go with the double barrelled surname ;-)

The Ministry of Motherhood

My friend Shifa is over on a week's holiday with her two toddlers (3-sh and 2 years old)
It's quite an experience having kids in our 'bachelorette' pad. The whining, screeching, attention seeking, loud squeals of joy, the silence (dangerous as this is a sure indicator that they are up to no good) are all proving to be too much for me.
Even more challenging are the day trips. On Saturday we drove down to Brighton beach, which is quite a long drive for me. The last 30 minutes of the journey was nightmare as we had to change the 2 years old's nappy, and endure his wailing. Once we got to the Brighton Pier, we were bombarded with requests for ice cream, sweeties, chocolate, candy floss, expensive rides- and when refused... loud tantrums. The 2 kids jostled to be carried by Mommy, and Mommy alone - not Aunty! It was a hot muggy day, crowded and I felt really sorry for Shifa
How do mothers cope?
If I had any reservations about having children... I think I can confidently say.. I definitely don't want any! I just don't have the patience, selflessness.... PATIENCE!
Don't get me wrong, the kids can be as sweet as pie. It is especially heart-warming when the little body (with dry diaper) climbs onto your lap to cuddle. Or when he spots you, lets out a loud cry and runs to you with arms outstretched. But those moments are so few and far between!
I have a profound respect for mothers... especially my Mom, who at one time had 4 toddlers under the age of 5! How she coped in the grey isolation of Stockport... I will never know!
God bless all mothers in the world; replenish their ever dwindling strength, give them oodles of patience, grace, wisdom to discipline, and a healthy alternative to sweeties!

Barbeque

Last Wednesday, I crashed a barbeque organised by the 20-30’s Home Group cluster. I think I’m the only person who was aware of the fact that I was actually gate crashing. Everyone just assumed I was supposed to be there. So not really gate crashing then. It helped that I brought my own meat to put on the grill and had a camera to take loads of photos

The 20-30's cluster is made up of small groups that meet mid weekly for bible study, prayer, building friendships etc. These groups are loosely based on geographical location and age group – the assumption being that you will have common interests. I’m a big fan of Home Groups – especially if you are in a large congregation because you really get to know people. All of my closest friends, I first met in Home Groups.

But how come I am 33, and not part of a 20-30’s Home Group cluster?

Well, when I joined St B’s, I asked the Home Group coordinator to assign me to a Group. I was 30 at the time, and was placed in a group of people in their 30’s, which I subsequently discovered was not part of the 20’s – 30’s cluster, in fact we did not appear to belong to any cluster at all!!!
As I become more involved in St B’s, I’m making friends with people from the 20-30’s cluster (mainly in their 20’s). We like the same music, use the same slang (courtesy of my previous youth work experience), they socialise regularly (something I really need at the moment), and most importantly they all think I’m 27!!! (I don’t correct them)
My home group bless them, are lovely and even though I do not socialise with them on a regular basis, I wouldn’t leave to join the 20-30’s cluster. It’s enough that I can attend the cluster events – it's the best of both worlds really.

What was I saying before I got completely side tracked there? Yeah… the barbeque!

For someone who is sworn off men, I’m certainly not doing very well keeping my mind off them. Steve was there looking fabulous as always (or buff… as he likes to say). I also met a guy called Tom…

A bit of history

When I was at University, part of a prophecy I received was that someone called Thomas would have a significant impact on my life. The prophecy also said that I’d be married within 4 years time and set up a ministry with my husband, my old church would be rebuilt to have 4 balconies and that I’d be an evangelist. Well 11 years have gone by, to my knowledge my old church still has just the one balcony and as for evangelism… I won’t even go there!!!
Methinks the ‘prophecy’ is definitely obsolete, n’est pas? It still doesn’t stop me from getting excited whenever I meet a ‘Tom’…or when I read a book by a ‘Tom’; and probably explains why I like Tom Cruise? There aren’t many Tom’s out there.
I engaged in small talk with Tom but nothing caught my attention; so after the obligatory 5 minutes, I employed my usual strategy, which is, suddenly look behind him
“Oh you calling me?” glance at Tom apologetically “Must go and talk to so and so. Nice talking to you”

Also a guy called Jonathan intentionally came up to talk (very rare for an English guy to do that- usually happens to me in Italy, but never here). He was a nice guy, a bit interesting.

Just realised I didn’t meet any new girls at barbeque