Lydia's Been Thinking...

Hugging a "hoodie" and making gangs lives "hell"

2011-08-15T07:35:00.004+01:00

We were sitting waiting for a plane back from the USA when we saw our first images fo the riots. We'd been in the USA for two weeks and the riots, by that point, had been going on for days but we hadn't seen or heard anything about it in the US news (it's true when they say people barely mention international news there), until we were waiting for our flight to London to board. There were pictures of burning buildings, riot police, kids with their hoods up smashing things in, reports of it being "uncontrollable" and talks of curfews being imposed. And there were terrified Americans queuing for their flight to London.

And now that things have calmed down, everyone is talking about WHY it happened. Newspaper articles, TV debates, BBC polls. The Times reported that Cameron is going to "make life hell" for gangs by getting police to "harass" gang members constantly until they stop their life of crime. My Dad thinks there needs to be more discipline in our society. Some friends think it is race related, some think it's class issues. Is it unemployment? Lack of education? Disenfranchisement? Breakdown of families? Poverty? Is it selfishness? A culture of greed? Materialism? And although I don't agree with all the views put across (I don't even know where to start with criticising Cameron's "harassment" policy...waste of police time, a willful misunderstanding of social and economic factors, the perpetuation of anti-police feeling in some communities and well, the clue's in the name- I'm not sure that getting civil forces to "harass" people is ever a policy), I am glad that there's some debate about the "state of the Nation" and at least some awareness of issues facing young, socially excluded people today.

I won't get into the debates right now (although there may be another post soon that does) because the view point I want to get across right now is just what's on my mind, right here and right now and besides, I'm pretty sure everyone is sick of hearing everyone harp on about it. I've been thinking a lot about a Christian response to this, a response informed by love, forgiveness, mercy and the Bible's principles of turning the other cheek and not punishing punitively. This, however, isn't a weak or a passive response. It's not burying your head in the sand or excusing violent or disorderly behaviour. It's not wishy-washy. The Bible is committed, obsessed even, with justice. And I am challenging you, challenging myself, to trying to apply that vision of justice to our society. Not just justice in terms of jail sentences, community service, fines, taking away benefits and council housing- criminal justice (although I'm not sure taking away benefits and housing IS criminal justice- or effective for that matter). I'm talking about an absolute, unflinching commitment to wholesale justice in our society- the justice that the Bible urges us to- sharing possessions, lessening the gaps between rich and poor, rebuilding communities that are ravaged by crime, poverty, drug abuse, violence, lack of opportunity and lack of hope.

The paper is full of opinions, facebook is full of people critiquing society, the police, looters, rioters, anarchists and kids. So is church. And I want to ask, do you know what it is like to live in a London estate where unemployment is the norm, where poverty is rife, where violence is out of control and frightening? Do you know why people are in gangs? Do you know anyone in a gang? Do you know why young people put their hoods up? Have you every met a young person who has been harassed by the police, unfairly, because of the colour of their skin or because of where they live? DO you know how much weekly benefits are? Do you know how much trainers are? Do you know why kids want expensive trainers? Have you been to a school where no one is interested in getting the best out of you or looking into WHY you can't control your anger? Do you know anyone whose parents are drug users? Do you know anyone who deals drugs? Do you know why kids in poor areas are bored and angry and disenfranchised? Do you know what kind of a job they would apply for if they were applying for a job?

I'm not saying that there isn't a right and a wrong. That there weren't poor, angry and disadvantaged young people that sat at home and didn't go out looting. I'm not saying that it is okay to steal or be violent or hurt people, whatever your economic background. But I am asking people, I am asking Christians to get out there and meet some kids and get to know the issues. This isn't "hug a hoodie", this isn't token "get to know a poor kid". The last thing young people need is to be a charity case or to have people walk in and walk out of their lives. But volunteer at a youth club in a poor area, sign up to their newsletter, give money to projects that work with at risk young people. But don't just read the Guardian and tweet about disadvantaged Britain and hoodies and benefits culture. Because if you don't know these kids, how will you see them change?

Because I know someone who, a few years ago, would have been out there smashing things up and pissing off the police but she stayed home. In fact, I know a few people. But not as many as I'd like and I'm challenged by that.

There is a need for debate and for policy changes and for pressuring the government and for giving money to charities and there is a need to learn from what has happened. But in the meantime, the Church is called to be family to those who don't have family, to be love to those who don't know love or who have pushed it away, to give food to kids who don't get fed, to play with those who have never been played with, to bring hope to those whose lives are hopeless and to see things change. To push for change- not just preaching, not just praying, not just tweeting and not just having an opinion. And if you don't know how, ask someone who is already doing it. Being the change we want to see in the world, being ready to sacrifice, being hopeful that the next generation can be different. I'm not there yet but I'm ready to try.

Small things, Great Love and a Leather Jacket.

2011-02-16T08:34:00.000Z

My favourite, favouritest, bestest item of clothing (probably) is my leather jacket. I bought it last Christmas in the Topshop sale whilst I was home in London (before I became a vegetarian, I swear!). I've always wanted a leather jacket and it's beautiful. It was pretty expensive but it was half price in the sales and I always say it was my best buy ever, it fits me perfectly and I wear it constantly. So, even though it was expensive, it was worth it and it'll last me forever so it's okay. Right? Right.

A while back, me and my sister (who was visiting) went to the supermarket closest to my house so we could pick up some stuff to cook for dinner. We were walking in and this woman approached us, whilst a man, who was obviously with her hung back and stood round the corner. It was pretty cold but the woman just had a vest top on. She didn't look well, she was super thin and pale and shaky and well, I work with drug users and we're taught to recognise the signs of someone using drugs. So, she approached us and said that she was really cold and that she was sleeping rough that night and asked if one of us would give her our coat.

So, you guessed it, I was wearing my leather jacket.

I said no. I took off my leather jacket and I gave her the primark checked shirt I was wearing underneath it (I had a t-shirt underneath it, don't worry!). My sister and I went inside the supermarket and bought her some food and I gave her the card of a drop-in centre that could help her find a hostel and get some help. I explained that I worked for One25ltd and that she could go there to get help. I was nice, I helped her, I did enough, right? But the whole time I was talking to her, this line kept going round and round my head, "I was naked and you did not clothe me". From Matthew 25, the parable where Jesus separates the "goats" from the "sheep" and the way he separates them was by how they treated strangers. He says that when you are doing something for the stranger, you're doing it for Him- "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in. I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."

What stopped me from giving her the leather jacket? Greed, I guess. And loving things more than I love people. I rationalised it- it's too big for her, she'll sell it for drugs money, she'll wear it for one night when she's cold and then she'll dump it somewhere, it's worthless to her but important to me and it's MY FAVOURITE JACKET and she won't know that it cost me more than I usually spend on clothes and that I love it. And it's okay for me to have good things, God isn't a God of poverty etc.

But I knew what I should have done. Jesus was standing in front of me, in the form of a cold, tired out girl with her pimp waiting for her round the corner, and I said "no".

I should have given her the jacket. I should have told her that it's my favourite thing in the world but that I know she's super precious to God and that he wants her to have the best and that she should be warm tonight. I should have given her it, even if she'd only chuck it away, because that's what we're asked to do- give extravagantly and carelessly and generously, like God does with us. Second chances and third chances and gifts that we don't need and don't deserve.

This is a small thing but it's a big thing too. It was months ago but I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I put the bloody thing on, I think about it. I know that I am forgiven for doing this but I also know that it's my mindset every day, in many ways, not just that days standing outside of that supermarket. Almost every day I choose not to recognise Jesus when He's standing in front of me.

I should have given her the jacket.

Frenemies, Punk and the J-Word

2010-11-21T15:56:00.005Z

The other day, I was reading an article in The Guardian about female friendship. The (female) author was talking about how in the media, more and more, friendships between women are being portrayed as more competitive than supportive. It's true- if I see another bloody film or read another article about "frenemies", I'll go mad. Every episode of Gossip Girl is about women trying to undercut other women, double-crossing and bitching and humiliating each other so that they can be the prettiest or richest or smartest or so that they can get the man. There's female celebrities constantly feuding and making snide remarks, there's whole magazines dedicated to ripping other women's "flaws" apart, there's older women presenters being sacked for more "attractive", younger women. And then outside of the media, there's competition over everything from jobs to men. The article reckons that, due to a bunch of factors, women are turning against each other. Because there is still inequality in our society (and if you don't believe me, read my previous posts on feminism, ha!), us girls are frequently pitted against each other. Interestingly, in Cheryl Cole's recent interview with Piers Morgan, he asked her a question about competition between her and Danni Minogue, and said something about how Amanda Holden had been gutted when she heard that Kelly Brook would be on Britain's Got Talent. Cheryl objected to the question, saying that women shouldn't always be pitted against each other- that they're both beautiful, talented women, with different strengths and skills. Cheryl had a point, the male presenters don't get pitted against each other like that. But then again, the men rarely get sacked so a younger, more "attractive" woman can replace them- so you can see why Amanda was worried (step up Danni vs. Sharon Osbourne, Arlene vs. Alesha etc). Because, more often than not, women are competing for roles that are at a premium and the only way they can survive in them is by being ruthless and bringing each other down. And it's not cool.

And it got me thinking about how this works in my life and the women around me. Bikini Kill (my favourite-best-ever girl band (although I still love you, Courtney Love), were part of a political, music movement called "Riot Grrrl" which was all about how hard it is for women in band scenes and how they can only ever be the lead singer and only if they're "hot" and how it's really threatening for girls to even get involved in bands and learning to play because you have to be AMAZING at guitar or whatever for anyone to take you seriously and so, girls don't get to go through that "I'm rubbish but I'm learning and that's okay" thing boys do in teenage bands. (also, they sing some kick-ass songs that are clever and funny and deal with interesting subjects). Bikini Kill have this super cool flyer that says "Encourage in the face of insecurity"- and about how the "J-word", jealousy, is the killer of girl love. This is SO true. Too often, I've felt a bit crap about what I look like or how I am and I've been around someone who I think is really pretty and I'm threatened by the girl so I am bitchy about her, I see her as competition. We've all been a victim of underhanded bitching from girls, if not open meanness- or been aware that we see other girls as a threat or competition. It even happens at Church and that sucks. I don't want to be a part of that.

Once, i was seeing this boy but he broke up with me because he realised he still likes his ex-girl friend. It made me feel pretty bad. I knew I had to see him at a stupid wedding the next week so I bought nice clothes and new, super-expensive make-up (this story is flawed, that was a stupid way to cheer myself up but whatever). Anyway, I got sat next to the ex-girlfriend at the wedding. I didn't even know she'd be there. I didn't even want to look her in the face because I felt so jealous and sad. I'd never met her before but anyway, we started chatting and we got to talking (somehow) about make-up and she said she felt really unattractive that day because she couldn't wear any make-up on her eyes because she was having really bad allergies and she couldn't afford the expensive stuff. In my handbag, I had the expensive, hypo allergic Lancome eyeliner and mascara I'd bought to cheer myself up. I knew I had other make-up at home and I knew that this was a turning point for me. There was a quiet voice in my head telling me to give her the make-up as a gift and I knew it was a stupid, tiny thing to do but it was a turning point for me because it meant letting go of being jealous and hurt and choosing to try to be friends with this girl, even though I wanted to hate her. So, i gave her it and she was really stoked and we made friends and she is a lovely girl. And it felt good to be friends with her, despite the odds and despite the fact that I wanted to tear her down because her being pretty and nice made me feel worse. In the end, I realised that the boy liked her and that didn't mean she was better than me, just that the boy wasn't right for me.

So, I want to carry on trying to give away mascara to people I want to hate. I won't let my insecurities get in the way anymore. I won't allow myself to be in competition with other women- to be the cleverest or prettiest or thinnest. I won't put someone else down because I feel bad. I won't see myself as better or worse than another woman or put myself in a hierarchy or "leagues". I won't submit to all the crap we are unwittingly taught that says women can't be friends with other women. I won't bitch or back stab. I won't subscribe to crap theories about being the "alpha female". And if there's a chance to build up another woman or compliment her or put her forward, I'll do it. I will promote the best there is about being friends with another girl- the kindness and compassion and the understanding. And I will work, with my lovely friends, towards being the best kind of women we can be- those that encourage in the face of insecurity and never allow ourselves to be threatened by another girl or pitted against someone else- for jobs, for boys, for friends or for popularity. And I think that we can do it.

Thoughts on my last post (hubris or God taking me seriously?)

2010-11-04T22:40:00.002Z

Here's something funny; Last week, I got a big shock at work. Cuts, changes in funding and "restructuring" means that my job doesn't exist anymore. (The government funding body for drug treatment said "We want as many people off drugs, off benefits and into work as quickly and as cheaply as possible". They actually said that. That is their brief as a body. Forget people, forget quality of life, forget caring, forget making sure the women are healed and well equipped and will stay clean for the rest of their lives. Quick fixes. Statistics.) I have no idea what will happen next- they're not gonna get rid of me (that's nice)....I'm either gonna be kinda demoted (more anti-social hours, less input with the women, no emotional supporting, just practical stuff. I'm not really a practical person) or they might decide to invest in me and massively promote me- send me back to uni to become an addictions counsellor or something. The first option would not be great. The second option would be awesome, my ten year future plan (I mean, one of them- I also want to be an MP, a policy adviser on sex work, foster children, travel America, and write a book), condensed in to a few years. The first option is likely. The second option seems unlikely.

And it's funny, because of my last blog post. I'm all like "yes, I don't wanna stand still, I wanna do some new stuff, take some risks". Great attitude, kid. But it's pretty hard when you're in it. Is this God punishing me (surely not, bit too Old Testament style) or taking me seriously? This is a scary place and it's a new place. Loads is at risk for me- I love my job, I love the charity I work for, the pay is ok, i love who I work with...but also stuff about pride- could I take a demotion?

But it has got me to start thinking about a few things- trusting that God has a good plan for me. Trusting that I'd find something else to do. Trusting that it will be okay. But also, thinking about God's way of doing things. I wasn't qualified (really) for this job. I'm not the best choice to invest in (as a trainee counsellor)- I'm young and comparatively inexperienced and soetimes silly. But through history, God has used silly people for great things- lispy people to make speeches, murderers to teach laws about justice, sex workers as saviours of cities and haters to lead a new, loving way of life. And I'm all about taking chances on people, chucking stuff away on people who might not appreciate it and putting my trust in people who lie to me. So, this is not to say that I'll get the promotion because I might not. But this has reminded me how it feels to be offered a chance to grow into something you don't fit yet and I like it. Like Jesus does. Like Sufjan imagines God saying "I've an idea for you, placed in your mind, to be a better man". God buries something in all of us, an idea of being a better man, no matter how unlikely that seems. I'm gonna try to give chances and expect more of people and offer olive branches and honour people that might seem not to deserve it- because, it feels pretty nice when someone takes a chance on you.

Challenge me, c'mon

2010-10-10T16:51:00.004+01:00

Today feels like a good time to take stock of stuff. I've been working at One25 for a year now, I've lived in Bristol for a little longer than that and I've been living in the dream house/hippie commune/18Th century vicarage for 7 months now. In many ways, I'm living the dream (my dream, in any case). Maybe you're catching me on a good day (and today IS a good day, it's beautiful and autumnal outside, I feel good about myself and the world and my house is temporarily peaceful and quiet and still). There are still days where I feel like I can't handle the life I've chosen (or the life that's chosen me)- I've hit the year mark for working in a residential mothers and babies unit for women exiting street sex work and coming off heroin and crack and I see why people kept telling me that there's a shelf life for working in a residential setting. It gets in your head. It's hard sometimes living my life in a communal way- sometimes I want to read my book and listen to music and be alone but it doesn't always work like that. And sometimes my home life is suspiciously close to my work life. There are days when I think that if I hear one more traumatic story first hand about violence or rape or abuse or sadness, i will start crying and never stop. Or I think I will stop feeling anything anymore and I'm not sure which one is worse. And sometimes I'm astounded by how much I want to run away- to Vienna or Stockholm or Tennessee. or even London. Somewhere where I can buy back in to trying to be indie and cool.

But mostly these days, I think I am pretty happy with where I am and what my life is like. (Gosh, this sounds very self satisfied and smug, doesn't it? Apologies). And the last few days, a little thought has been creeping in to my head and a voice somewhere has been talking about starting to feel comfortable and settled. Which is nice, really. And for so long, I was finding my new life here so madly challenging that I needed lots of support and encouragement (of which I am very grateful for, thank you friends), it seems nice to stand still a little bit and enjoy things. I manage okay at work (I mean, it's still hard but I'm not TERRIBLE at it anymore), I live in an amazing house and we have kids knocking on our door and a baby running around and people coming to stay for some extra love and TLC and youth group is gathering kids weekly and we started a girls group and these girls come every week and learn about cool stuff like respecting themselves and looking after each other and I am a vegetarian now and I've got my finances more in order and my regular giving and friends here and people to hang out with and......suddenly, it feels like I'm not taking quite so many risks anymore.

A friend has just given up his lovely, successful life here and sold his stuff off and moved to another country to work with sex workers and drug addicts because he met Jesus and it seemed like he should actually take Jesus seriously about what He said in the Bible. And at Church they're talking about building your foundations on Him and not getting seduced by the world. And my manager at work just quit her job because she felt God calling her in to something new. And I keep thinking about risks and adventure and new things and how I feel closest to God when I'm scared and I can't do this alone and when I'm close to the lonely and the sad and the dispossessed. And I don't want to be stuck here- happy and comfortable and self-satisfied because I'm giving a BIT of my money away and I'm kind of opening my home and I did what God asked me a YEAR ago. I don't want to stop. i don't want to stand still. I want to keep stripping it away and getting closer to God.

So, come on! What next? Thank you for loving me and comforting me when this was hard but don't let me rest here. Challenge me! C'mon, challenge me! What else is God saying? It's not about DOING stuff, I know. But I feel reckless and excited because I feel like God wants more and more and that we shouldn't stop because we feel like we've given enough of ourselves away. And the seasons keep changing and it's Autumn already and a year has passed and I feel ike the rich young man saying "yes, I've done that, like you asked...what else?". So...challenge me; talk to me about God, about risks, about taking things a step further, about making irrational decisions and doing the mental, weird things that God calls us to do to redistribute wealth and make flowers from concrete and dancing from crying and insane dreams where there was once only mediocrity and staying still.

Urban outfitters, street parties and 'Generation X'

2010-06-08T14:37:00.005+01:00

When I can't sleep or I'm thinking too much about things, I have certain "comfort" books I pull out- they're typically short (I can read them in a few hours), easy to read (sometimes trashy), I've probably read them upwards of five times (so sometimes it's more like a mix of reciting and skim-reading really) and for various reasons they comfort me (I would be baring my soul a little too much if I told you what they were and why they comforted me. Ask me in real life or something.)

So, last night, I pulled out 'Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture'- Douglas Coupland's 1990's novel about a group of disaffected twenty-somethings that kind of drop out of society and form their own community. They are fed up of consumerism and the rat-race and their dysfunctional families and the media and expectations and dating and being in their twenties and being a target market and sitting at a computer all day and trying to conform and being the same but trying to look different-but-not-too-different. So, Andy, Dag and Clare move in to these faceless bungalows and sort of drop out of life. They get "McJobs", with low-pay and no commitment and they share their lives with each other and they tell each other stories- funny stories and sad stories and stories about themselves and stories about made up people and made up towns and stories about nuclear war and stories about their fears and stories about falling in love. And they try to make sense of their anxieties and their frailties and their hearts.

Why is it one of my comfort books? I don't know. I like the stories, I like the way it's written, I like the characters and I guess that what it was criticising chimed with me. As a Christian, I don't want to buy in to the greed and the lust (for money and for bodies and for things) that characterises my generation (which is admittedly a little younger than the Gen X gang). I like the idea of dropping out of that kind of society. I like the idea of telling stories to make sense of things. I like the idea of your friends and those around you becoming like your family and inviting people in to that to combat the loneliness and the feeling of being disconnected.

But last night, it didn't comfort me. It made me worried and a bit lost. And then it made me annoyed at things and at myself. It made me think about twenty-something Christians, like me, who see something wrong with the way our world is. And like Clare and Dag and Andy, we sort of drop out of the world and create these hip little communities that are comforting but a little bit cliquey and we listen to good music and dress cool and read Rob Bell and are sarcastic and ironic and cool and we shop at Urban Outfitters. And I got scared because I think I might have been making the Bible in to the stories they tell to each other, recognising the counter-culturalness and the upsidedown-ness of Jesus' stories, seeing how post-modern and beautiful and eclectic they are but just telling them to each other, over and over, saying "yes, we got it right. yes, the rat race isn't for us. yes, capitalism sucks. yes, we aren't the rich", not declaring them to the people the stories could transform, just telling them, over and over, to each other. And please hear me, the stories of the Bible ARE beautiful and good news and we should keep telling them to each other to encourage and change each other but maybe we should tell them to other people too. Maybe we should invite other people in to our communities- even if they aren't indie or they aren't funny and if they don't like foreign films or read the Guardian.

Maybe I haven't explained this well. Maybe it's offensive (mostly to myself, I think). I just realised for a long time that I LIKE a lot of the disadvantaged areas, but only when they're cool and they have good street art and cool art spaces and street parties in summer and only when skinny jeans outweigh drug users and sex workers and the homeless. And because it's actually cool to be anti-consumerism and anti-war and politically aware. I think I've forgotten the transformative power of Jesus and just kept talking about how cool and counter-cultural He is. And even then, only to my friends and to people like me.

The town mouse and the country mouse- or thoughts on exciting news.

2010-02-13T13:29:00.004Z

I want to tell you (I want to tell the world!) about some exciting stuff going on at the moment. It struck me that I make a massive fuss about the hard things and the sad things and the confusing things but say very little about the cool things- and this is very cool!

Okay, so, the girls I live with have wanted to move to an area of Bristol (Called Barton Hill) for a long time now because that's where they (and now I) do youth work on a Friday and because it's an exciting area and because well, we feel an undeniable and unexplainable pull to this area, despite the fact that it's a little run down (not in a cool, Brixton-y way either) and it isn't really an area that people are fighting to move in to. And we've long (separately and corporately) dreamt of having a house big enough to be hospitable- where we could have a room or two for friends and people who need to crash somewhere to come and stay, a kitchen big enough to have people over to eat with us and just space to make it a bit of a haven. But the thing is, there aren't really any houses with more than two or three rooms in this area, because it's mostly small council houses (with long waiting lists) and high rise flats. So, we've been living in a little (but lovely) house in Easton- where the girls have let me live with them for the last six months and kept looking out for houses. And we've kept dreaming and praying about some place to live. My housemate painted a picture, out of nowhere really, of high rise flats with flowers growing up around them, taking it over and bringing beauty in to a grey area. But nothing seemed to come along.

But, there's this beautiful big 18Th century vicarage with a huge walled garden right at the heart of Barton Hill, about a minute's walk from the church we do youth club at and exactly in the area we wanted to move in to. And, my housemate had this idea lodged in her head that this was the place we'd live. And after loads of really weird God-coincidences, we decided to see what the score is and email the diocese to see who lived there (we knew the vicar of the church it was originally attached to didn't live there anymore). They emailed back that a charity called "Earth Abbey" was taking it so that they could start a community project in the garden (which is a third of an acre- a huge garden, especially in this area. We were a bit gutted because we really wanted to live there and make it a bit of a hub for the community, somewhere for the kids from youth group to hang out etc but the diocese said the charity were having an open meeting about it, so (slightly grudgingly) my housemates attended, if only to show that they weren't being resentful...

So, it turned out at the meeting, that they needed four people to live in the house. The catch was that they wanted people who cared about the area, who would be happy for the garden to be used as a project for the community and who were sold out on the idea of being hospitable and generous with the house. And after a few exciting meetings, they gave us the house! (well, we rent it but you know what I mean!)

So, a few months down the line, here we are! We moved in today and the house is beautiful- we have a spare room for people to stay and a massive kitchen with tables to seat loads of people and a beautiful, beautiful garden. The whole thing has been a miracle- promised to us in dreams and prophecies and even visions painted more than a year ago. And the view form the house is the smae as the view painted in the picture- before we'd even been to the house or the garden! And the garden will be used for kids that don't have a garden to come and run around in, with a tree house and a big swing. And the charity, Earth Abbey (a bunch of amazing people), will start planting things and invite local people to come and learn how to garden and grow fruit and veg. And asylum seekers and refugees, the dispossessed, (of whom there are many in this area), can have some land that is theirs to grow things in, that can belong to them. And the garden is going to have a kitchen built outside in it, so that people can learn how to cook with fresh fruit and veg, in season. And people like me, city kids, can learn what it's like to live more in harmony with the earth- learning how seasons change and things grow and God provides abundance for us. And maybe, flowers will start to grow and bring colour to the grey, just like in that picture my housemate painted.

So, this is a happy post, and a grateful one and an excited one. My posts are often about the hard things, and I'm sorry for that- but I want to be honest and write about what I'm grappling with- but I also want to share the happy things- the miracles and the provisions and the gifts and the extravagance that we have in our life. Hard things may come but this is a story about fun and joy and flowers and promises and I hope you're as excited as me!

Thoughts on Love- or What Shane Clairborne doesn't tell you.

2010-01-30T09:00:00.004Z

About 4 years ago at Spring Harvest I went to see a guy called Shane Clairborne speak. What he said, and what he wrote about in his book "The Irresistible Revolution", really clicked with me. I felt like he summed up and expressed and was actually living out what I think Christianity should look like today, what I want my life to look like but am a little bit too attached to money, clothes and I-D magazine to manage. He talks about the bits of the gospels that other people leave out, the bits that challenge and inspire me and frighten me- about giving away what you have, about not being attached to possessions and property, about being counter-cultural, about being anti-war and about loving those that society rejects. It's beautiful stuff. There are stories about caring for people- the homeless, the destitute, the chronically poor, the dying, the unwashed, the addicted- and about how he encounters Jesus in these people and loves them and sees lives changed and people come to know God and live a fuller life.

I've been trying to see what this looks like more and more in my life, not that I'm "there" yet and not that I've got my stuff together- I haven't. But I'm writing this at 4am in the office at work because I am on a night shift and I can't sleep because one of the residents has gone missing- she walked out yesterday, leaving her baby (who she loved SO much), calling up old acquaintances and going out to score drugs. She had been doing so well, three months clean, a beautiful little baby girl and just starting to really engage with a new, hopeful life- she was genuinely one of the best mothers I have ever seen and she had just started going to church and was planning to go to college. But she walked out, abandoning her little one (who has been taken straight in to care)because she couldn't take it and she really, really wanted to use. I am so gutted, I was her key worker and we spent a ot of time together and I really, really cared for her and I prayed for her and I really tried to love her and treat her with compassion and love and respect. Apparently, when she left, she was crying and said that we couldn't have done anything else to help, that we were perfect, that she loved us.

And this is the last straw in a few weeks for me of things going really wrong- a lot of sadness and mistakes and walking away- things going wrong and sleepless nights. My life, my personal life, is pretty a-okay- it's the lives of those I love that are spinning out of control. And I am wondering if when people say "Lord, break my heart for the poor, the lost, the outcasts" they would mean it, if they knew it felt like this- disappointment, anger, hurt, rejection, sadness, despair. Babies left alone, hours and hours of meticulous love and care thrown away, all my energy spent. I know about the success stories, I'm inspired by them and I know they are reality- that hope comes, that people are saved, that addictions are overcome- but what about the heartbreak and the not-yets and the refusals of help and the being shouted at and the hit where it hurts? Please hear that I am not being cynical, I want to spend my life on this, I do, I just want people to be real about it. And I am left here thinking about the editing that goes in to Christian books. Did Mother Teresa ever break down, was the sadness ever too much? Did Shane Clairborne ever have his heartbroken when someone went back to drugs? Does Rob Bell ever invest his life in someone that walks away?

And then somewhere in the back of my mind, I see a man looking over a city and crying for it, because he loved the people that lived there so much and it broke his heart and he would have gathered them together like a mother, safe with him but they walked away (Matthew ch23). And I see a Father waiting at the gates every night, squinting down the road to see if his kid is coming home, waiting with love even though he took all his money and squandered it on bad things, heartbroken but eager for his sons return. And I see myself, throwing everything away, time and time again, and being welcomed home time and time again. And I think I understand a little bit more.....

Let's hear it for the boys....

2009-12-07T14:20:00.006Z

I was talking to a friend of mine a while ago about her Monday nights. With a few of her female friends from church, every Monday night she goes in to brothels and massage parlours and lap dancing clubs and chats with the girls there, eating with them and praying with them, talking about God with them and trying to meet any needs they have. She was telling me about how she chats to the pimps and the men that frequent the brothels too, telling them about God and trying to chat to them about what's brought them to these places on a Monday night etc. One day, she called me up, super excited because she's had a "breakthrough" with one of the men that work as pimps- he's really opened up to her and talked about his childhood, his experience of rape and being abused, and his problems with eating. She was really able to speak God's love in to his life and hopefully, he's going to come along to church.

This really challenged me. I work with women who are exiting the sex trade and sometimes, it can be hard not to judge the men that keep the sex trade alive. I hear about the punters that beat them up, that make them do things they don't want to, that steal their money and that humiliate them. I also hear about pimps and violent partners and men that treat them badly. But what my friend told me about this guy that she'd prayed with really made me think- she reminded me that these men need love too, that they need God's healing and restoration. She speaks kindly to the men that she sees in the brothels and even the pimps that treat the women badly, she talks to me about how we should have compassion for them, that they have to face up to themselves after they've left, that they must be hurt and messed up to do what they're doing.

Because if, as I wrote in my last blog, large proportions of women have experienced domestic violence, rape and abuse at the hands of a man, it means that there are literally thousands of men in our country who really, really, really need God. Similarly, the Home Office estimates that between 4.3 and 11% of men in Britain use prostitutes. That is huge. In the foreword to the 2008 Home Office report on how to tackle the sex trade, Jaqui Smith (the Home Secretary) wrote Home Secretary Jacqui Smith, "So far, little attention has been focused on the sex buyer, the person responsible for creating the demand for prostitution markets. And it is time for that to change." I agree.

And I'm thinking about how this looks and how it could work. The Church (and many other charities and organisations) are just starting to engage with vulnerable women- those working in the sex trade, those suffering domestic violence and those who have been hurt and abused. But what about the men? What about the men that my friend meets in brothels? What about the men that use violence to coerce, hurt and control women? What about these men? Who will help them break out of their behavioural patterns and show them what redemption looks like in their lives? And how will this work?

I guess part of this is down to youth workers and teachers- helping all young men to grow up to love and respect women, to treat them as their equals and to understand their own impulses to violence and the things inside of them that make them act a certain way. But also, it is down to Christian men to get involved in the parts of society that we don't like to look at- to be positive male role models for a country that obviously has a problem with objectifying women and using them. Because I know so many Christian men that treat women like God does, with respect and love and care and compassion. They don't use women for sex or to make themselves feel better. They act with infinite gentleness and care and this takes strength. And I can't wait to see what happens when these two types of men collide, when people in the community see what it looks like to treat other people like the prized, valuable, costly things that they really are. So, I guess, this is a call to arms. A call for Jesus' disciples to show another way, to break cycles where little boys grow up and beat their girlfriends just like their dad beat their mum, where guys secretly pay women for sex and treat them like they don't matter, where women are scared to go out alone at night and where both sexes aren't living to the fullness of what they were made to be. Because it's not about men and women and gender and statistics, it's about this country being messed up and not knowing how to love anymore. It's about Jesus telling us to put down our stones, stop standing in judgement and getting us out in to a world that desperately needs to see another way of being men and women.

Why I am a feminist and why you should be too.

2009-12-05T13:27:00.003Z

I am a feminist. There, I said it. The "F" word. And I am sick of having to qualify it by prefacing it with words such as "moderate", "Christian", "modern" etc. And I am more sick of having to defend my self-identification as a feminist to people who either assume that feminists are men-hating, bra-burning, hairy-arm-pitted women who spend their time pursuing some kind of separatist agenda that would ideally keep men only for the purpose of reproduction OR to people (sorry girls, but it's often you guys) who think that feminism is obsolete now that we've got the vote (although Saudi Arabian women are better represented in their Parliament than us British women are), we have equal pay to men (Really? http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2009/jul/29/gender-pay-divide-women-inequality) and we don't have to stay at home and look after the kiddies (although, in this post-feminist society, women that do choose to look after kids at home/keep house are often denigrated by society- the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world, my friend- it's about choice). Even those who are quite progressive, left-wing types often see feminism as women making a bit of a fuss about not much. Christians too often see feminism as either unneeded, a waste of valuable energy or some kind of inverse snobbery that sees men as less than women.

But here's the thing- feminism has been radically misunderstood- and the chances are, if you're a Christian you are already a feminist or you SHOULD be! Feminism is about ensuring that both men and women live up to be the people they were created to be, that they live equally, unharmed, unhurt and free to exercise their rights in a world that respects them. Some people have dropped the word "feminist" and prefer to use "humanist". I guess that works but I kind of feel like, why subjugate women AGAIN, even if it is only with language and definitions? The Church should be trailblazers here, we should be leading the way, showing the rest of the world what tolerance looks like and what the world could be like if women WERE able to be socially, politically, economically, creatively and philosophically treated equally to men.

Now, a lot of people think that women ARE treated equally to men in all these ways but it's just not true. In the UK, one in four women will be victims of domestic violence in their life time, often more than once, one incident of domestic violence against a female is reported EVERY MINUTE and there are, on average, two women a week killed by a male partner or former partner (check out womensaid.org.uk for statistics and an analysis of how they are collected). As many as one in four women have been raped or suffered an attempted rape and the conviction rates are horrifically low (check out www.rapecrisis.org.uk). There are estimated to be 80,000 people involved in the sex trade in the UK, with the vast majority of these being women. These statistics are just one, tiny slice of gender issues (there's pay, the objectification of women's bodies, everyday discrimination, the sex double standard, health care provision, political representation etc) and this is only about women in the UK (there are thousands of other issues globally- as well as some other countries where women are afforded a fraction of the rights British women are).

These statistics aren't meant to typecast men as ogres or sexual predators or women as victims but they are there to show that there is a problem in this country with the way women are treated. Actions come from mindsets and worldviews and clearly, there is something wrong with the way women are viewed (by men and by women themselves) if this level of violence exists in our country. And when you look at it like this, suddenly, feminism doesn't seem such an outdated word at all. And it seems like our journey as Christians, bringing God's wholeness and happiness to individuals and bringing God's kingdom of liberation, freedom, mercy and love to the world IS feminist and it does have something to do with women and gender. Because this pattern of violence and degradation and power isn't okay and we, men and women, have a duty and a calling to deal with this- not as a niche issue (women's groups and Captivated books and "feminism" as a girls only seminar issue) but as the body of Christ together. So, my lovely Church, let's deal with this together and redefine what a feminist looks like.

Light, more Light.

2009-11-16T19:52:00.006Z

I've been thinking a lot this week about light; Light and dark, Sunshine, Stars, Light bulbs and fairy lights, Night lights on the stairs, Candles. And I've been thinking about darkness; Night time, winter mornings, shadows and bad things. And Jesus; Light of the World, light in a dark place, "Let there be light", light chasing away dark.

It started because I was listening to Mumford and Sons, a song called "Roll away Your Stone", which I love, and there's a line of it "Darkness is a harsh term, don't you think? Yet it dominates the things I've seen". It made me laugh because describing the world as "dark" is very un- me, It's a bit too Conservative/Evangelical for me- a bit too dramatic, and a bit too old school. But increasingly, I feel more and more aware of how dark the world can be- how twisted and messed up and violent things can be. There's the things I hear about at work- the hidden, everyday, violent stuff that goes on in our cities- the seediness and sadness of sex work, the tragedy of drug addiction and how it steals from people, the everyday terror of domestic violence- all the sad and dirty and scary things that happen where we live, even though we pretend they don't. And then there's the stuff in our lives' and our family's- the secrets that eat away at us and the shame of hiding things from people that we love.It reminds me of the Sufjan Stevens song, "John Wayne Gacey Jnr", about a serial killer, who killed boys and hid them under the floor boards and Sufjan sings "But in my best behaviour, I am really just like him, look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid"- we all hide things under the floor boards- sad things and secret things and dark things. And sometimes, it can be overwhelming this darkness, it can seem hopeless and sad and too much.

But it's November and Christmas is coming and the other day, I was walking along the harbour at night after seeing a friend and it had been a hard week and I had spent a long time talking to my friend about all this dark stuff that seemed to be around me and I was walking home, and I saw these workmen (and women) stringing up these Christmas lights from lamp post to lamp post. And suddenly they turned them on and they were beautiful and reflecting all on the water and what had seemed so dark and sad suddenly lit up and took my breath away. And Christmas reminds me of this- it is perfection and beauty and hope bursting in to a dark world like strings and strings of fairy lights turned on. The Light of the World came to bring hope to this dark world and suddenly, it seems like dawn is breaking on what's been a long night.

And the world is dark sometimes- full of secret things and hard things and horrible things and things that are hard to say out loud- but a Light has come and that has changed things. It doesn't mean that we should be naive and say there isn't darkness and it doesn't mean that we should back away from the darkness into the light because we're scared but it does mean that the darkness gets chased away, scattered, pushed back by the hope we have. And I am asking for more light in my life, more hope and more daylight and more dawn and more Christmas lights strung out across my life. And I'm looking forward to seeing how that looks.

Thoughts on Bristol, feeling liked and learning about obedience.

2009-11-07T19:31:00.001Z

A while ago, I felt like God was telling me to move to Bristol. Now, for me, God's voice doesn't come in thunderstorms and rushing winds and booming tones- it comes in thinking a lot about stuff and sensing something and it tentatively feeling right. So, part of it was living in Bristol last summer and it feeling RIGHT and part of it was wanting to live with Laura (who is kinda the Naomi to my Ruth) because I think she's doing good things and I want to be part of that and part of it was just, well, a sense. And a big part of it was feeling convinced that my purpose in life (for the foreseeable future) was to work with women in the sex industry and I knew that this super awesome charity in Bristol, One25 ltd, was doing that. So I figured I'd move to Bristol and that God would sort some kind of Mcjob for me and then in my spare time I coud volunteer with One25. So, for once in my rebellious little life, I trusted my sense of what God wanted me to do and I moved to Bristol. And it was a hard decision for me to make- I could've stayed with a bunch of people I really love at my Uni church- a place where I feel valued and cared for and where exciting stuff was happening. Or I could have stayed in London, where loads of my friends are and where I'd been offered a job. Or I could have done an M.A in English Lit- satisfying my inner geekdom. But I trusted and I moved.

And in many ways, the risk paid off. I live with three beautiful, kind and lovely girls and we have super fun times together and we do nice things. And I love the area I live in. And I love the church I'm going to. And I've made friends. And Bristol is a brilliant, messy, pretty City and I love it here. And I love the things I'm getting involved in and the life I'm starting to build here. And guess what? The week after I moved here, a job came up at the charity I wanted to work for- One25, as a key worker at their residential safe house. And guess what? I got the job- despite a lack of qualifications,lack of experience and lack of maturity, they took me on. And if that isn't a risk paying off, I don't know what is! God totally provided for me and I am 100%, absolutely sure that I only got this job because God wanted me here.

But here's the thing. It's hard. Really, really hard. Sometimes it's lovely and sometimes it's fun and sometimes I feel like I might be part of changing someone's life. Everyone always says it must be rewarding but the thing is- the GOOD bit is that the women have moved in here and the GOOD bit is that they have their babies and they haven't been taken in to care and the GOOD bit is they're drug free. And those things are really, really good but it doesn't mean my day-to-day job is rewarding. You see, the good thing is they're here but it doesn't mean I see breakthrough every day or even every week. I spend a lot of time feeling too inexperienced, too young, too silly, too naive. And I get hurt very easily and shouted at a lot and I HATE it when people don't like me. And actually, I'm not 100% sure that I'm good at this- I'm getting better but it doesn't feel good and I don't get much job satisfaction and I feel like crying a lot. But I'm 100%, absolutely sure that I'm meant to be here- it's too many coincidences- moving here, the job coming up, me actually getting to job etc- I know that this is what I should be doing.

And I think I'm slowly learning what obedience is like- that the important thing is I'm here. And it sucks to not be good at something. But I was called here and I came. And He didn't ask me to come and be the best at this. He asked me to come here and follow Him. And it bites sometimes, it really does, but I think it feels right and I think that's what obedience is about.

Simple Living and how I bought three dresses in one day.

2009-05-04T23:10:00.003+01:00

Okay, so, I have a confession to make...The day my student loan came in I bought three dresses, a pair of sunglasses and I had a pedicure. I was having a hard week and I was feeling a bit emotional and I went for a bit of "me" time...at the shops, which is a crucial mistake. So, I went to Topshop and I picked out two dresses (one flowery 80s body-con and one strapless and red with little pictures of the Eiffel tower on it, in case you're interested) and then I bought some sunglasses (80s ray ban style white ones, with little pink flowers on), and then I had a pedicure (neon pink. Then, I came home and I was bored and I went on eBay and bought a navy sailor mini-dress.
And there are reasons why I went shopping; Lots of my summery clothes don't fit anymore (see last post- he he!), I wanted to treat myself, I was bored, I wanted to feel pretty in new clothes and I was going to a club on the Thursday and I wanted to wear a new dress. But mostly, I don't feel cool unless I have up to date clothes, fashionable clothes, clothes that people comment on. And when I don't feel cool, I feel kind of rubbish about myself and I realise I'm getting who I am, my identity, from places I write against in essays, places I condemn in debates; magazines, models, designers, trendsetters.
Cos here's the thing; I want it both ways- I want to be anti-consumerist, anti-capitalist, living a radical counter-cultural life that puts all my weight behind caring for people that don't have enough, critiquing a society that values looks over people, that casts women as mannequins and is peopled by individuals who are happy to wear clothes made by people who get an unfair wage. BUT, I want to live this life wearing 80s floral body-con dresses from Topshop (hitting 2 trends in one- floral AND body-con!), preferably as a size ten and ideally, whilst hanging out in cool clubs, with interesting and attractive people.
And I'm guessing, at some point here, I'm gonna have to make a choice...or lots of little choices every day. And it scares me to think about who I'd be and who would like me and whether I'd still be me if I didn't spend £5 a week on false eyelashes and feel the need to have a new outfit for every time I go to a club and if I gave up on being "cool" and started trying to care instead. But I have to trust that this is bigger than me, that actually, getting out of the fashion-conscious/want-to-be-cool/image obsessed rat race is actually a BETTER way to live- not just for the kids in sweatshops that labour to make my Primark dresses (and that should be enough of an incentive)but for me too. So, I'm gonna start making those little choices...

The politics of dieting or how i want to be Kate Moss

2009-01-20T16:46:00.003Z

I have been consciously on a diet since I was about twelve....and so have lots of girls. That's not to say that every day I eat like I'm on a diet, not at all! It just means that every day, somewhere in my consciousness I have assessed what I'm eating and either felt guilty or good about it. And that can ruin a meal! And more than that, it's the self-deprecating comments about being fat, and the jealous criticisms of women that I think are pretty and thinking that my whole life will be better if I'm just a little slimmer...I'm on a diet right now, more consciously than normal, and me and my Uni housemates are keeping each other in check; calculating calories and weight watchers points, getting me up at 6.30am to go to the gym, comforting each other and justfying when someone eats something they "shouldn't". And here's the thing...none of us are overweight.
There's a saying that's come out of the Anglo-American Feminist movement (i guess feminists in some parts of the world don't have the luxury of worrying about weight loss); "Fat is a feminist issue" and it is. It's a Christian issue too, or at least it should be! Because I'm not overweight. I'm not endangering my health by being the weight I'm at. It's not about feeling healthier. It's not a short term detox to kick start my immune sytem, blah blah blah;
This is about aesthetics. This is about being a Size 8 (I don't think that's even possible...my bones alone are bigger than that!), this is about wanting to look like Kate Moss. This is about me buying in to this dominant idea that beauty is size 0, that thin is pretty, that people will find me more attractive if I'm thinner.
I'm a thinking girl, I'm a feminist, I know that this Western image of beauty is a myth. I know all about how lots of models stay thin and I know about air brushing and I know that a boy that doesn't find me attractive because I have meat on my bones isn't the kind of boy I want in my life. And more than this, I know that my Creator made me and that I am beautiful, not "to Him" and no one else, but beautiful. I know that I don't enjoy my life as much as I could because I feel insecure. I know that I'm not accepting the wholeness that God offers me by living like they way I look is imperfect, wrong, not pretty.
And this isn't God's kingdom coming in my life, this isn't wholeness and healthiness, this isn't being in the world but not of it, this is buying in to and being affected by the wrong things about the world. And I want to be different from a culture that makes girls (and boys) feel unattractive and imperfect when they're lovely.
I read an article in Bitch magazine once (an amazing US feminist magazine that engages with culture from a feminist perspective)about Beth Ditto, lead singer of the Gossip, who is definitley bigger than Kate Moss etc. And she spoke about resisting the dominant discourses about beauty, that hold women back and make them feel incomplete. And she talked about accepting the way she looked and better yet, acknowledging that she is beautiful and sexy and hot and attractive. And I thought "Yeah!". I want to, as a Christian, as a feminist, as a girl, resist these magazines and pictures and fashion designers and bitchy comments and criticisms of "fat" women in Heat Magazine and the things other girls say when I walk in to a party and hardest of all, the voice inside me that's internalised all these things. But it's so hard to do that, so hard to ignore these things that are so ingrained in me. But if Beth Ditto can do it, maybe I can too...

Into The Wild or thoughts on relationships.

2008-11-14T16:43:00.007Z

Today I watched "Into The Wild", Sean Penn's 2007 film, an adaption of Jon Krakeur's book of the same name, about a twenty something guy, Christopher McCandless, who, after graduating from a good University, gives away all his savings to charity, leaves all his possessions apart from a few things he carries on his back, and leaves his friends and family to head out across America, with the ultimate aim of hitting Alaska and living in the wild, alone and off the land. Resisting a middle class life of 9 to 5 jobs, obligation, materialism and pressure, he heads off, burning his money and leaving his family behind, hoping to "discover" himself and live an authentic existence, just him and nature and nothing else. It's a beautifl film, with gorgeous shots of America; the open road, the wilds, the ocean, the city. (And, I'm not going to lie, Emile Hersch as Christopher is pretty damn beautiful too!). But as i sat watching it with my friends, all of us in our last year of Uni, all of us mapping out a life in the Big Bad World of jobs and money and morgages and credit crunches and cars and houses, what struck me was the attractiveness of heading off, alone, in to the world, rejecting money and possessions and the hold they have over us and pursuing something bigger; spirituality, love, redemption adn an awareness of SOmething Bigger than us...a realisation I think Christopher reaches in the film. I am a Kerouac girl, I love the idea of leaving all this stuff behind, selling my possessions and getting out. I love Kerouac's "Big Sur" where he goes to a cabin in the middle of nowhere and tries to live alone, working out who he is away from alcohol, girls and the city. And I lovve Bon Iver's album, "For Emma, Forever Ago" for the same reason...the idea of getting away from everyone, stripping it all away and seeing what is left. And I can see a beauty, a spirituality in this...in rejecting my endless pursuit of things; clothes and hairstyles and lifestyles and money and coolness, in getting away from it and finding myself and God away from it all.
But, Christopher is also running away from obligation to people; from relationships and caring and people being around him. Messed up by his parents' relationship, he leaves and cuts them off completely, not getting in contact with them or his sister, just withdrawing completely. And he tells Ron, an old man he meets and becomes family to, that the core of human beings is experience- not shared experience....but the things we see and do and taste and feel. And this week, where I have seen and felt a little of how humans can hurt each other, this view is attractive to me. Watching the film, I thought about getting out; about travelling somewhere by myself and writing and reading and walking and remembering who I am and finding God again, in a quiet and separate place. Because, sometimes, I get tired of this community thing, sometimes I get hurt by what people say and loving people like Jesus loved us isn't always easy and there's not always a return on it. And I would like to withdraw.
But, the beautiful thing about this film is that it exposes the lie of the running away from the American Dream. Underneath the romanticism of living alone and finding yourself and being close to the nature, is the wish to retreat from people- soemtimes, the risk of loneliness seems better than being close to people, than loving people- becasue it can really hurt sometimes. But what Christpher finds on the way to Alaska, family and community and acceptance, in the shape of a hippy couple and a crazy farmer (Vince Vaughn, would you belive it?) and a lonely old man, THAT is what we are called to and there is massive beauty in that, despite its difficulty and vulnerability. And right at the end, tucked away in an old bus in the wilds of Alaska, having run away from all the people that tried to love him, Christopher rethinks his definition of what humanity is, scrawling "happiness is only real when shared" in the margins of a book. And here, in my little house in Leamington, I think I'm gonna stick with it and remember that there is soemthing beautiful in sharing my life with people, jsut like Jesus told us to.

Getting scared on the way home and other thoughts.

2008-08-20T15:07:00.014+01:00

The other week I was working the late shift at work, 6pm 'til 1am, which was pretty boring except I got to get a cab home, which I'm silly enough to still get a litle kick out of, especialy when I get to charge it to the company account, it makes me feel like a big shot. Anyway, so I was in my cab home at about quarter past 1 in the morning and I was chatting away to the driver (as you do) when he broke off in the middle of a sentence, gestured out the window, said "poor girls" and carried on talking. I looked out the window as we sped along a main road less than a minute's drive from where I live in Bristol at the moment and saw clusters of women, probably ten or fifteen, some chatting to each other, some standing by themselves, some dressed in jeans and t-shirts, some in mini-dresses and thigh-high boots- they are prostitutes or women in the sex trade. My cab driver carried on chatting on about what he was chatting on about (how his three sisters in London live next door to Lee Ryan from Blue, if you're interested)and I forgot the ladies outside my window in a matter of seconds. My seemingly lovely cab driver, however, became a lot less lovely when we drew up near my road and I asked him to drop me outside my house. The road I live on here, in what some people would call a "dodgy" area (it's not dodgy, it's lovely), it's pretty narrow and it can be a bit of a pain to turn around in, and my driver flat out refused to drive down it and drop me outside my door. I made a bit of a fuss, as nicely as I could, pointing out that it was dangerous for me to walk down the road's narrow entrance (next to some kind of building ground/car garage thing)and that it wasn't much trouble for him to drive down but it was scary to walk down alone. Anyway, he refused and in the end, I got out the car and walked the dark few minutes to my door, dodging through shadows and let's admit it, frantically singing "Shine Jesus Shine" like it was some kind of charm to keep me safe. And what scared me the most was that my housemates were all on holiday and I was home alone and I barely know anyone in Bristol so I couldn't even call someone to come get me or walk down to met me. I was alone on a dark road, with the knowledge that there were no friends and family waiting in my house who could come and help me. But, I reached my door okay, got in and went to bed, safe and sound, and forgot about how scared i'd been as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next day after work, I got in my cab but this time, when I drove past all the women on the main road, something clicked in me. Maybe it was God opening my eyes, maybe it was common sense kicking in, maybe it was just my little two minute walk through the dark streets of Easton the night before, but suddenly the reality of those ladies lives hit me. I would be scared stiff to walk along that dark, shiftily lit road by myself at night, I would hold my breath, my heart pounding, if I was by myself there and a man walked past me, suddenly aware of my complete inability to protect myself against someone, my total vulnerability becoming apparent to me. These women, (and without sounding patronising, girls- a lot of them looked younger than me), stand on the street every night and instead of freaking out and walking faster when they see a strange man, get in to a car with him. Have you ever thought of how scary getting in that car must be? Getting in a car with a man you've never met, who may steal your money, beat you up, rape you or treat you in any way he sees fit? Yes, these women get in to the car on the agreement that they will have sex for money but they are at complete risk every time they do so, anything can happen to them. A friend of mine says she was terrified the first few times she got in a car with someone but after that you pretty much just get used to it, although "of course" most girls get beaten up or forced to do things they don't agree to, she says. And like me walking down the road that night, many women in the sex trade are there precisey because they don't have people around them that can help them, close family and friends that would come to bail them out of trouble.
And i think that, for some of us, thinking about being a prostitute is too alien for our lives and we can't grasp it, we can't mentally walk a mile in their shoes because it seems to foreign and because of that, it can seem hard to care about. I can't connect with having sex with someone for money, and I don't really know what it would feel like when people treat you like an object, like something they buy and have a right to use or how it feels when a man I don't know puts his hands on me and I just have to learn to switch off. So, I will think about the things I do understand- That it gets cold outside at night and it must be horrible to stand outside without a coat, that standing around in those heels must be uncomfortable, that getting in to a car and driving to somewhere remote with a man you don't know must be terrifying, that there might not be anyone who will come to help you if you call them to say you're in danger, that it is scary and horrible and sad. I think it helps us to understand a little more when we remember that these women are like us or our sisters and girls friends and think about how they get cold and hungry and scared, just like us.
So,the facts? It is estimated that 18,000 women and girls are trafficked in to the UK sex trade, (trafficked as in forced to work here, either kidnapped or brought here on false pretences and forced to work for little or no money). Worldwide, the average age of those entering the sex trade is 13. Thirteen. Stop and think about what you were like when you were thirteen. Stop and think about the little girls you know who are thirteen. Stop and think about what thirteen year olds should doing. It is estimated that there are 80,000 prostitutes working in the UK but many sources say that is too conservative and that the hidden face of prostitution is bigger than we know. . That is a lot of people, a lot of women.
And it seems Jesus cared about these people, these women caught on the edge of a society that doesn't really see them, or if it does, it is from a place of judgement or even fear. We don't even need to ask "What Would Jesus Do?", the Bible tells us. I have been told (and have read) that it hard to work out sometimes whether the Bible is referring to prostitutes or women that were unfaithful or women that were just plain old, unspecific "sinners", when it says "whore" or "prostitute" etc. But what we can be sure of is Jesus' absolute compassion for women that society rejected for their association with forbidden sexuality, women that were shunned or excluded from polite society. For instance, just look at Jesus' love and respect for the woman who annointed his feet with perfume, weeping and kissing his feet and wiping them dry with her hair (Luke 7 and John 12). Many people think she was a prostitute as the culture then saw a woman with her hair down as being immodest, somthing only for a time of intimacy with your husband. I have also heard that the perfume would have been the tools of trade, if you like, for a prostitue then. Certainly, we can tell from the reaction of the religious leader who's with Jesus that this woman was judged by the community- "If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner." Jesus treated her with respect, saying that her story would be told wherever the gospel was repeated and he treated her with love and compassion, forgiving her sins. He also sticks up for her against the Pharisee with him, telling him to leave her alone. Here we see what our reaction towards sex workers should be; compassionate, loving, defending them from those that would judge them (sometimes ourselves).
What is interesting is that the Bible can be seen to privilege prostites above religious types. Jesus accepts the worship that this woman brings to him, as raw and uncomfortable as it is, and seems to value it very highly. And in Matthew 21, Jesus warns the reigious crew that "prostitutes and tax collectors" are entering the kingdom of God before them. I think what Jesus is saying here is that those outcast by society (and the religious establishment) have a better understanding of God's grace and our need for it than those who feel they've got it all sorted with God. It's a challenging thought. And interestingly, a lady called Rahab, who was a prostitute (check out her story in the boook of Joshua- another instance of God's habit of picking those we probably wouldn't), is one of the few women mentioned in Jesus's family tree in the geneology of Jesus in Matthew chapter 1. Yeah, that's right, our sinless Saviour descended from a prostitute....makes you think, hey? She's also held up in the New Testament as an example of personal faith and good works (Hebrews 11.31 and James 2.25). So, the message seems to be that God has a massive amount of love and compassion for those who work as prostitutes and more than that, the Bible shows us that God used a prostitute to bring about the birth of Jesus, the One that came to save the world and bring our salvation.
And anyway, we know that God's heart beats for the poor and the marginalised and the ones that society rejects. The Bible tells us time and time again (too many to reference, google it if you don't believe me!) about His massive love for these people and about His anger at His people (us!) for not loving them, for judging them and casting stones at them, and for not DOING anything to help them, to bring about justice for these women and men who are pushed away by society.
And this is the hard bit, hey? Not just to love and feel compassion for those in the sex trade in an abstract way, theologically and intellectually, or to prepare ourselves to love any prostitutes we may meet in the future. We are called to bring God's kingdom more and more to earth and I'm pretty sure the sex trade isn't a part of that kingdom. 80,000 women (if not more)can't be helped if we leave this to a few people whose ministry this is, specifically. 80,000 plus women need more than just a few "gifted" people to show them grace and give them practical help. And many of us would say that we don't know any prostitutes, that there aren't any in the road next to us or even in our neighbourhood. Perhaps this is part of the problem, that we're not living in communities where we can meet and love these people face to face, where we might see those in the sex trade as friends, neighbours and people, rather than statistics.
This is something I am being challenged on and I haven't begun to outwork this. I am trying to and I want to. Whether it means questioning whether God wants us to stay in the safe, comfortable neighbourhoods we live in, or whether it means bringing a coffee to a lady working on the street or buying her some time off, or whether it means volunteering with an organisation that helps those in the sex trade or making an effort to get to know those you would normally avert your eyes from, or whther it means financially supporting the work of those helping those in the sex trade (Check out and consider giving to the amazing One25 organisation at http://www.justgiving.com/one25). Whatever it is, I don't think my little epiphany and my change of heart is enough, it is a start but it can't be the end. Let's see what God can do when we approach Him with repentence and an honest desire to see his kingdom come in the lives of those affected by the sex trade.

Life, Love, Thoughts, Things.

2008-08-17T14:52:00.000+01:00

I am staying with my friend Laura at her house in Bristol and I have been for the last 5 or 6 weeks (big shout out to Nikki and Lucy, her amazing housemates and my new friends, who have opened up their house to me, generous, generous, generous), whilst I work over the summer as a runner at Films@59 , a post-Production company.
Anyway, this blog has come out of many conversations I've had with Laura and a couple of other people about my faith and what people call the Kingdom of God and what community means and how being a feminist fits in to my life and my beliefs, and how to love people better, and how to honour God with my money and how to "Act justly, Love mercy and walk humbly" with my God (Micah, chapter 6, verse 8).
Laura went on holiday on Saturday morning and on Friday night/Saturday morning we were still chatting 'til like 2am about what goodness means and whether chick flicks are bad or good to watch and whether listening to sad songs makes you sad and whether God speaks to me through silly things like Juno and Tracy Chapman and even Sex in the City, and what the Bible says about Transgender issues and is it OK to buy Vogue when I'm trying to care less about what I look like and more about things that matter. I need these conversations. And as I was still talking and she was probably trying to sleep, I remembered a conversation a few days ago when I'd talked to Laura about more of these disparate things and talked about how I write down these thoughts on my computer but never show anyone and how I'd like to start some kind of Christian fanzine about culture and theology and friendship and music and community and justice but I was worried I would just try and make it cool and I would end up censoring myself to sound cooler and funnier and trying to make it look all indie and anyway, who would read it? And she suggested a blog instead (better for the trees, hey?).
And ever since I read a book called "The Irresistible Revolution" by Shane Clairborne (READ IT if you haven't already done so or got sick of me talking about it), I have been talking to like minded people about how to live more ethically, how to take the Bible seriously when it talks about living out justice and acting compassionately and loving people and caring for the poor and the environment. And the thing I have been saying to all these people and the thing they have all said back is "I don't know anyone who's living like this". I have read about people and I know people that are taking amazing and scary steps to do so, but I have no precedent, no model. I don't know what it looks like and I don't work well without someone to copy!
So,this blog is born out of the need for us to pull together and hash this thing out, to work out practically how to do this thing, how to live like what Jesus told us to do actually matters. And I think blogs are a little self-obsessed and, Lord knows, I am a little self-obsessed too, but I need some help and some opinions and somewhere to talk about this with people that are walking the same walk. Because it is easy for me to work out when I'm at my cell group or when I'm talking to Laura or when I'm at Church or chatting to my sisters, but not so easy when I'm away from you all or in Topshop or faced with making life choices.
So here this blog is. Be sparing with your judgement and free with your opinions and ideas and stop me if I get too self analytical. And for the record, before you all get the wrong idea, if I sound to holy holy or self-righteous, please talk to any of my Uni house mates or my parents or well, most of my friends and they will be able to tell you all about how I'm not and how, well, I need your help and that is where this blog comes in.....