Soap for Jesus

In this country of free speech, we are starting to see, more and more, the intolerant intolerance which is known as "tolerance". The more people fight for "freedom of speech" and "equality" for minorities, and not for all people, the more we see people losing it. I understand where they are coming from; I really do. From a Godless perspective, it is very easy to see. I also understand where I, and so many others that feel frustrated, bitten down and like they're treading on thin ice, are coming from. I am of sound mind and body. I am intelligent, without meaning to be arrogant about it, and I'm a Christian. To many people, I am a threat, simply because they see what I believe as a threat. This problem lies with their perception, not with me. I am not a nice person; by nature, and it shows rather frequently, I am selfish, arrogant, vain and self-interested. However, if you know me, I am unwavering in what I believe, attempt to love uncond...

I just finished reading an encouraging note sent to me by Sarah Beth regarding a question I'd asked about From Self-harm to Victory earlier in the day. I don't know about you, but messages of encouragement always make me cry. And feel guilty. As much as I publicise my weakness so that people see who I am and who Christ is, I still feel like a fraud. That I'm blazoning myself for glory and my actions as good works. That people still can't see the real me. They're suspicious of me, and so am I. And it's hard to carry on being me and showing so much weakness. Do you know how hard it is to be openly weak? To listen to others discourage you and to despise yourself for it? She praised me for humility and I could only cry knowing how much I fight with pride. Then I stopped and listened. Because Someone was telling me to let go of my guilt and shame and accept what she said. Not as praise for me, but as praise for Him in me. Praise from Him to me. No, I...

As we near the end of 2014, I once more pick up my pen...or more literally, tap at my keyboard, and attempt to search out a pattern of meaning in the old and mark a set number of steps in the new. And after such a long beginning sentence, I don't blame you if you've hit X. ;) It's 22:38, 10:38pm, on December 21st, 2014. Not sure about you, but I'm still having trouble typing 2014 instead of 2013. Maybe I left my brain as well as my heart in what is still, right now, last year. This year has been a year of new beginnings. Of false starts and many stops. Of broken hearts and despair. Of fresh hope and failed hope. Of a lost family and a new purpose. It's been, in short, a year. I started 2014 with the determination to keep an A4 sized diary, filled with the markings of how I spent every day, determined to use time wisely. That lasted til May. I was going to keep a jar full of the books I'd read. I lost the jar before I started. My journeys to and fr...

Writers. A forum. Testing waters, not yet knowing who we'd be. Fighting. Backsliding. Growing closer. Fought for me against them. Against the darkness. "Give them my email." He who was so cautious about letting other people have his details, gave them to fight for me. Arguing. Constantly. Respect. Never realising. I gave stuff up to talk. Constantly demanding to talk. Freaked out if he couldn't talk. He always made time. Even got grounded a few times because he went over the limit. Mentioned a girl he would like if he'd let himself. Realised. Ran. Two guys apart, I accepted it. Compliments from him, kind words, meant the world to me. I began to save them. A friend found out about it after the time that he said with me in the RAF and him at college/working, our friendship would probably disappear and I freaked. Then the friend let it loose to him. We talked. Agreed a time to separate and pray. I offered to kill it, told him I was being stupid. He asked ...

Recently, it was the birthday of The Dude. It was kinda a hard day, despite this place of constant peace and resting the Lord has provided. It took a bit of pondering, over the past few weeks, whether or not to send a birthday greeting. After all, he totally blanked (probably forgot, you know what men are like :P ) my birthday this year, in spite of our past friendship of seven years. The one part was going, "Well, I want to ignore him. He ignored me. Maybe I should just leave it to public holiday greetings from now." The catty, angry, self-righteous part wanted to send him a greeting, just to say to myself that at least I did the right thing. And both of them were holding back because, well, I don't want to give in to the self-righteous part. I want to love him right and purely. In the end, I sent it. Because holding back isn't an option. When you love, you give all, whether or not it's returned. It's a rejoicing day because someone is alive, someo...

*grins* That's a Black Country term, so most of y'all probably won't know that. ;) So here's me, in sweatshirt, fancy necklace and Mediæval bodice fresh from work, earbuds dangling and still distantly playing Mandisa's "What If We Were Real" album, pj trousers on and perched on a chair, typing this while gobbling up some pumpkin soup - WITH CHEESE. Scrummicking round the house, getting fed and watered before settling down to work at home for the evening. Y'know, it's impossible to explain the joy and peace that's been here the last few days. The period I've just gone through has been the blackest, spiritually, I remember walking through in the past four years, since my backslide when I was 17. I don't remember what jolted me to actually fighting again. I was convinced God wasn't going to fight for me anymore, and on being told that He was waiting for me to say no to doing wrong in the weakest area of my life and wasn't go...

I hate typing up stuff like this, because it feels crazy and I feel shy about being crazy. On occasion. :P For the first time in two months, I have inexplicable hope in my heart. I'm starting to weakly seek after God again in action, instead of stumbling blindly, hanging off maxims and knowledge and repeating words that ring dusty in my mouth, groping for a truth that I'm too tired to seek. Satan sure knows the places to shoot the Lord's servants down. Without the shadow of a doubt. Two months of being shaken and too tired to care. Giving up. The motions were those of moving forwards, when everything in me wanted to sit down in the road, cross my arms and refuse to do. Spiritually, emotionally, I had, and was wondering exactly how long it would be before it became visible to everyone. Spiritual decline is very quickly visible. The last weekend away at the Lauser family's home in Ireland really...helped. To stop. To look. To listen...to be forcibly embedded in God...