Little Women (1994) - WITH BETH

Little women

Today has been a lovley day. You know how some days are just beautiful? sometimes there is no obvious reason for it and it is hard to pin point what it is that has made the day so wonderful. Today has been such a day. Harmony, peace, reflection, goodness and well being have been prevelant.

Today my frineds and I watched 'Little Women' together. It is such an amazing and beautiful story. It was almost as if after watching it my eyes were opened in a way that they perhaps haven't been in quite sometime sadly.

Poetry, art, literature, music and other creative medias strive to provide a moment of enlightenment or understanding. Quite often when I look at a painting I 'understand' after a while of gazing. I can't tell anyone what it is that I understand as I can't explain, yet I understand. The brief moment of realisation is what draws me to art. It is a euphoric enlightenment that captivates my imagination and stirs me to creatvity. It is a connection to the artist and to myself that can be difficult to explain. Art provides a space for clarity of thought and reflection, it provides a way of seeing. George Orwell said 'Good writing is like a windowpane' and I completely agree.

Today however, after watching Little women, my heart swelled. I understood immediately and a rare experince occured. I experienced the feeling of enlightenment, yet it was the simplest of understandings to comprehend. My enlightenment was so simple I can explain it, and the enlightenment was not a mere euphoric glimpse but a sustained, developing thoughfulness.

I have no siblings of my own, I never met my brother James and as I grow older the absence of brothers and sisters in my life causes my heart to ache more and more. When watching little women today at first I was sad when I saw the close friendship each of the sisters shared. My heart longed for the same, the friendship between Jo and Beth particularly touched me. For a while I pondered this and dwelt on the sadness of never knowing my brother. Then all of a sudden something changed in my heart. I thought of my best friends who are those who know me better than I know myself. My most precious of friends are my sisters. Though God hasn't blessed me with blood related siblings he has blessed me with sisters who are as family to me.

The closeness we share is hard to explain but is one of the most beautiful gifts in the world. God has blessed me with the best of friends and I pray that as it says in proverbs I will be the kind of friend to them that 'sticks closer than a brother'.

The gift of friendship is never one to be taken for granted. Friends are precious gifts. As friends we bear each other's load, we share in each other's sadness, we protect each other from the world's evils, we celebrate in each other's joy, we persevere in each other's trials and when we try and express our love for each other words are not enough, neither are actions. Our expression of love is our connection that like the understanding of a painting can often not be expressed in words.

"For when three sisters love each other with such sincere affection, the one does not experience sorrow, pain, or affliction of any kind, but the other's heart wishes to relieve, and vibrates in tenderness... like a well-organized musical instrument." ~ Elizabeth Shaw ~


sisterhood and friendsip are gifts that we should never take for granted. We must never become complacent with those we share our lives with. When we lost our friend James nearly three years ago one of the hardest parts of going through our journey of grief was the fact that none of us got the chance to tell James how grateful we were for his friendship. Yet reflecting back, it is obvious we didn't need to. We all know that each of us treasure each other's friendship though we rarely say it. James cherished our friendship and we cherished his, though words that projected such thoughts were only expressed occasionally the 'understanding' was communal. Words were never and are never required. James Main and James Nelson are in heaven just now where love and eternal brother and sisterhood reign.

Friendship is a gift that relects a little of what is to come. United by the blood of Christ as sisters and brothers we will live in harmony one day soon.

The Well Below The Valley (Magdalene Sisters Intro)

 

 

Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing - Mother Theresa

Has your worst fear ever been confirmed to you and all of a sudden your comfortable life is turned upside and shaken within an inch of its life to the point where you ask yourself 'is it even worth it?' or 'whats the point now?'

well that happened to me today. One of my worst fears appraoched me and kissed me on the cheek. It was confirmed or at least it is a great certainty in my life. The word 'great' in that sentence is very much an oxymoron.

It has been one of this days where shock and disbelief have smothered me and the tears have stung my cheeks but I know it could be worse.

What we imagine and dream our life to be is suddenly erased by that grotesque monster otherwise known as reality. Oh Lord thank goodness for Your hope and promises. Without them Lord I would be so lost. Thank you Jesus for
Your comforting arms and Your everlasting love. For my future, for home in heaven.

Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves. When our dreams have come true because we dreamed too little. When we arrive safely because we have sailed too close to the shore. Disturb us, Lord.

to have the wisdom to love them back

"you really believe in love then?"

"Yeah...totally, this is a love story that is staggering everybody in the whole world that God really loves us alot....you can wipe my hands on my shirt if you want"

Its ME

I was begging at your feet-
cap in hand, sweater torn, head bowed
on the cold slabs of Mexico Street.
I cried inside as you walked past.
Where could you be heading?
Stop! Oh please…..not so fast!

Again I saw you that November day,
The snow fell and the wind blew cold
whilst under the bridge I lay,
The couch upon which I slept was damp,
But worse than that - my heart ached with loneliness
To the world and to you I am only a ‘tramp’.

The next time I saw you perhaps you never recognized me.
My face was bruised and swollen,
You stared straight ahead and you didn’t see.
I was cold, hungry and had no where to lie,
Crimson tears rolled into the gutter-
You glanced, looked away and then strode on by.

My dear, dear child – It is me!
Your Father, your saviour, your friend,
It is I who has set you free!
I cry to be shown love, clothed and fed.
Yet where is your compassion and love?
For have been raised with me and are no longer dead!


One day you will meet me face to face,
No longer in disguise,
You will celebrate the greatest love and be in awe of this scandalous grace.
So dear child remember me as I sit in the rain,
Don’t hurry on by without caring and offering help,
For remember love was my mission and love is my name!

I knew she wasnt English

I knew she wasn't English cause she spoke it far too well,
the grammar was goodly, the verbs as they should be
and the slang was bang on the bell.

And as the language barrier clanged and banged,
I couldn't hear, hear or see.
England, London and Bow,
Crumbling into the sea.

Inside a painting

The bench was green and pickered with rust.
We were shackled up against a rail
The air was sweet with song, the choral masters of the forest
serenading the tribulations between the lovers.
Thick paint never understood our emotion,
the realness of our life springing from the canvas.
"Oh capture us our wonderful creator. Your majestic hand rouses us", we cry aloud.
An existence inhabiting one's own imagination .
A memory, a dream, a poem - what a sensual snare the monotony of life can be,
The bench was green and pickered with rust,
Yet we lay on it and laughed,
And as the summer rain poured down
the paint disolved and reality was captured.

a little portion of my London diary

'.......ten minutes later I emerged from the underground to a street of startling beauty. Misty splotches of diffused light threw feeble spotlights upon London's 'city glitter' or broken glass which lay upon her slimey pavements. Blood pumped from her bohemian heart, trickling through the streets and clinging to the stones and brick walls. As evening fell in and the darkness of night began to descend, London began to iluminate herself against the darkening sky. With just two pounds in my pocket, my camera and my underground ticket I began to explore these mysterious alleyways and side streets..........'

things to do before you die

ahaha, was clearing out my cupboards this afternoon and found an old jewellery box I used years ago. I opened it up and inside was a piece of folded paper. Out of curiosty I opened it and it turned out to be a list of things I want to do before I die. I remember writing it years ago and it was so funny to find it. I'm going to keep it safe. There are about 100 things on the list. Some of the things on it are cool but some are so random for eg.....

1) own a ring with a sapphire
2) eat curry with my hands like in Pakistan (HA!!)
3) hold a baby monkey
4) Travel to London on a sleeper train
5) Sleep in an igloo

.....ha....what was I thinking?....i was a strange child!

journal entry

Just found this is a really old journal when I first began to write......

'The red velvet scruffs its' creepy little hairs over my feet. I boke with the sensation. No wonder it is crushed, it deserves such a defeat. The air is damp in the room, like sitting in a cold sauna. Pete Doherty rings in my ears, consuming the decibels in the air. A swallow darts and dives in the setting sky. Like a swift arrow he swoops with concentrated intensity - quite the acrobat. My mind is full of thoughts that I can't express. I've just decided right this second that I'm going to write more - everyday perhaps.'

a strange dinner

Just eaten dinner. Possibly the strangest meal I have ever had. .....Due to the fact it is my last day in London I refuse to buy any food. Partly because I have no money and partly due to the constant nigglings of my mums previously imparted wisdom or life lessons if you will. That is; never to buy more than you need and never to waste anything that can be used.

Consequently, this is the reason I found myself this evening scouring the barren cupboards for any sign of an edible substance. This morning I emptied most of my kitchen of the crap I couldn't possibly salvage like mouldy butternut squash and sweet potoatoes, transparent cheese - (quite incredible) and an empty milk carton. I then gathered the chosen groceries that were worthy of keeping and put them all together in a plastic bag. In the end I had 2 teabags, olive oil, a tin of sweetcorn, plain cous cous, tortilla wraps, marmalade and 2 petit filous fromage frais.

Its amazing what becomes appealing to you when you have no money and terrible hunger pains. The thought of a tortilla wrap with marmalade was suddenly irresistable. As I ate the tortilla and looked over my bag of possesions I was suddenly aware of my gratefulness to God for his provision. I thanked Him from the bottom of my heart for the tortilla wrap and the marmalade. Feeling somewhat like a tramp with my goods in my bag, I thanked God for what he has provided me with. I felt fully satisfied without a worry in the world. It was a weird moment but made me reaslise something important.

Quite often when we gain more possesions or have more than we need we grow disatisfied, anxious and often covet what other people have. However I feel that in some ways the less we have the more we have. This is a tongue twister but I think that the less we have the more we appreciate what we have. Perhaps this isn't the same for everyone but I know in my case it certainly is. I remembered what George Orwell wrote in his novel Down and Out in London and Paris, one of my favourite books ever. He wrote,
'It is actually true that the less money you have, the less you worry. When you have a hundred francs in the world you are liable to the most craven panics. When you have only three francs you are quite indifferent; for three francs will feed you till tomorrow and you cannot think further than that.'
'but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful' Mark 14:9

Living by faith, that what they call it isn't it? Not planning, not worrying - just serving.

rest

so this is my first ever blog. Im lying in bed feeling pretty awful. Sore head, flu symptoms etc. Lying here with nothing to do has made me think. Thinking about people who are terminally ill or those have been bed ridden all their life.

I remember reading about a girl of a similar age to myself who was sentenced to a lifetime of lying down due to a severe illness that had destroyed all her muscles and her ability to participate in every day tasks or even to communicate. All she could do was lie in her bed completely dependant on those who cared for her. However, her heart was set on things above, she rebuked any thoughts that dwelt upon self-pity and instead humbly commited herself to a lifetime of devoted prayer. By her bedside was a map of the world pinned to the wall. For the rest of her life she worshipped God by praying fervently with the help of the Holy Spirit for every nation and every race. She prayed with such an intesity of spirit that her face was always radiant, never did she dwell on her own sufferings. She experienced the peace that we know 'passes all understanding' in a way that that blessed GOD, HERSELF and the whole WORLD.

There is something so beautiful about the times when I just rest in God. The times when prayer seems to be present but not in the most literal sense. I don't require words or even thoughts. I just rest in the sublime, ethereal beauty of God's peace. I don't need a sunset or a waterfall to spark this experience. Nor do I require specific music or a blessing to reflect upon. The words 'my grace is enough for you' become so meaningful at times so unexpected when I just seek His face and rest in His peace. The stress of the city, the derelict wasteland, the estates, the gangs, the smack and crack. yes Lord, Your grace in enough. lead me.