Ok so i was up - with good cofffee inside me making the effect to speak portuguese to the new guy doing my quiet time and proudly looking at my football bruises (you know that game i winged about so badly last week- well i actually enjoyed it, (cant say i kicked the ball anywhere useful) but I at least got it off the top guy a few times and didnt get it in our net so thats something ;))
The new week ment a new teacher, a new subject and a few more conversations down the line with people, I´d completed some work and finally done some exercise (to burn off the chocolatemania i had consumed since stepping foot on this base, rumour has it everyone goes back chubby - the dream (returning thin, brown and holy) was slipping away, it was going to take vigalence and some decent gymwear from the spanish sales to prevent it.)
The new lecturerer was good, everything was a little less intensely personal yet still challenging thinking about what makes gods character and his nature - why were we created? how your impressions of what god is like will impact or determine what kind of relationship you have with him, how much do you believe god loves you? - you personally not what your taught but what do you believe? if god abolished hell tomorrow would you still follow him?
I managed to find some of the spanish sunshine id herd so much about and although not entirely jamaican looking just yet there was hope of completing 2/3 of the dream. Coupled with the idea of a night off today was looking pretty good.
Tuesday, 27 February 2007
Sunday, 25 February 2007
I found spain, its in alcala!
It been nearly two weeks, im starting to get used to stuff, the hectic timetable the spanish services, living in community (having 3 min showers and sleeping in bunkbeds again) but there have been some upsides too. I have met a woman who is part of a team working in Angola it was pretty exciting to listen to someone working out there and wondering how they could link with Dignity, even if this was the only reason i was out here was to connect these two groups of people it would have been worth these two weeks, it was amazing to start to meet more people with a vision for a country and believe god has put this in them because he has a heart for that nation, and cares what happens.
There was no paperwork or easy orientation for this place is was straight into the obsticles of worship, intercession and spiritual warfare! the teaching is perceptive and exreemly interesting although with so little time to ponder and process so much it can be a little overwhelming.
There was one pastor who taught in the first week who kept talking about not wasting this time and going back unchanged he un-nervingly looked at me everytime he said it and the end of today´s (2.5hr, refridgerated, spanish) service was no exception. Id love to ask him what it is that he keeps not saying when he looks at me but i guess theres always a reason why people dont say those things! and im sure come the end of the DTS he´ll speak his mind.
Hannah a typically loud (but extreemly funny) american and i had bonded over a stupid joke and the realisation that having an inappropriate sense of humor wasnt always a bad thing (just one you had to be careful before unleashing live and unplugged) decided to escape the cabin fever and take out precious day off to go to a town of Alcala, this place was spain! tiny streets with balconies and lanterns, plazas with tapas bars and amazing coffee on pedestrianised streets benieth amazing architecture. This was the place, why were we based in horrid torrejon!? still it was nice to be somewhere so gorgeous and escape, sit in the sun and drink coffee, walk round beautiful cathedrals and get trigger happy with surreal over exposed lonely black and white shots.
There was no paperwork or easy orientation for this place is was straight into the obsticles of worship, intercession and spiritual warfare! the teaching is perceptive and exreemly interesting although with so little time to ponder and process so much it can be a little overwhelming.
There was one pastor who taught in the first week who kept talking about not wasting this time and going back unchanged he un-nervingly looked at me everytime he said it and the end of today´s (2.5hr, refridgerated, spanish) service was no exception. Id love to ask him what it is that he keeps not saying when he looks at me but i guess theres always a reason why people dont say those things! and im sure come the end of the DTS he´ll speak his mind.
Hannah a typically loud (but extreemly funny) american and i had bonded over a stupid joke and the realisation that having an inappropriate sense of humor wasnt always a bad thing (just one you had to be careful before unleashing live and unplugged) decided to escape the cabin fever and take out precious day off to go to a town of Alcala, this place was spain! tiny streets with balconies and lanterns, plazas with tapas bars and amazing coffee on pedestrianised streets benieth amazing architecture. This was the place, why were we based in horrid torrejon!? still it was nice to be somewhere so gorgeous and escape, sit in the sun and drink coffee, walk round beautiful cathedrals and get trigger happy with surreal over exposed lonely black and white shots.
Thursday, 22 February 2007
finally getting somewhere
I had felt like i was on a tv show, infront of a live audience, put on a sugery table and opened up. sitting through classes of such good but perceptive teaching i felt transparent. like evry thought they could read, every reaction was already written on the white board.
"I felt led this morning as i prayed that god wants me to teach specifically on curses" he announced at the beggining of class. after yeterdays 10 areas covered this was going to be a cool 3 hours teaching on cursing, binding words and things that stop blessing. The tongue corrupts the whole body, from the same mouth come blessing and curses, how can you praise god with the same mouth in which you curse someone? It was at the end of the class when he asked the holy spirit to come, praying in the name of jesus naming spirits praying specifically over things and breaking them, there were tears, there were hands raised for rebellion against parents, rebellion against god, if you have at any point let a spirit of rebellion in and operated under it, to repent, Witchcraft, disobedience. It was a powerful time.
I walked away from that class with a freedom i havent felt since ive been here, tonight i worshipped - i really worshipped. I stood and praised god with all of my heart, i drew again. I danced and didnt care what people thought, infact they didnt even enter into it! i wanted to praise god with everything within like it would kill me if i couldnt.
God was moving and doing stuff, it was never too late, i hadnt missed the moment, you sit stubbornly in your seat when you know with a burning inside to let god work, but fear keeps you from doing it, but not today. i wouldnt carry things any further. There was more god could do, there was deeper teaching and no more blocking stuff. time to learn.
If your sat there reading this knowing there is stuff in your life god has been prodding at, maybe just stuff you want to scream when someone goes near, can i say that repenting praying and asking the holy spirit to come is the best thing you could ever do, you may get emotional but no its not going to be pain forever, and your going to walk away full of freedom, - is that just a sloppy term banded around by hippy christians? NOPE. youll experience genuine joy, genuinly smile again. god is always there.
"I felt led this morning as i prayed that god wants me to teach specifically on curses" he announced at the beggining of class. after yeterdays 10 areas covered this was going to be a cool 3 hours teaching on cursing, binding words and things that stop blessing. The tongue corrupts the whole body, from the same mouth come blessing and curses, how can you praise god with the same mouth in which you curse someone? It was at the end of the class when he asked the holy spirit to come, praying in the name of jesus naming spirits praying specifically over things and breaking them, there were tears, there were hands raised for rebellion against parents, rebellion against god, if you have at any point let a spirit of rebellion in and operated under it, to repent, Witchcraft, disobedience. It was a powerful time.
I walked away from that class with a freedom i havent felt since ive been here, tonight i worshipped - i really worshipped. I stood and praised god with all of my heart, i drew again. I danced and didnt care what people thought, infact they didnt even enter into it! i wanted to praise god with everything within like it would kill me if i couldnt.
God was moving and doing stuff, it was never too late, i hadnt missed the moment, you sit stubbornly in your seat when you know with a burning inside to let god work, but fear keeps you from doing it, but not today. i wouldnt carry things any further. There was more god could do, there was deeper teaching and no more blocking stuff. time to learn.
If your sat there reading this knowing there is stuff in your life god has been prodding at, maybe just stuff you want to scream when someone goes near, can i say that repenting praying and asking the holy spirit to come is the best thing you could ever do, you may get emotional but no its not going to be pain forever, and your going to walk away full of freedom, - is that just a sloppy term banded around by hippy christians? NOPE. youll experience genuine joy, genuinly smile again. god is always there.
Wednesday, 21 February 2007
pull no punches
Yesterday was a day from, well it just wasnt a good combo: a night tossing and turning, combined with PMT and to boot - sports, football to be exact (or should i simply state a team sport, one you not only dont get to choose but one your rubbish at, your highly competative, (something that puts monica in the relms of mild)) followed after dinner with a choice of dance or drama. "what was the third option again?" i asked, much to the amusement of the team.
It was one of those days where i felt 14, i couldnt shake the anti-authority rebellion within, i prayed as i ran down the four flights of stairs, that god would sort out my head. having sat in bed and argued with him about simply not turning up but rather turning over, i knew i wouldnt rest if i didnt go.
I was getting cabin fever and when the day was out i legged it. I was starting to explore the neighbourhood more anbd more i knew the parks, the bars and cafes, and even libraries. So much time with the same people and always a timetable that accounted for every second of my day, i was questioning everything. My attitude, my heart, with so much time sticking your head in your bible it would be un-natural not to. was i being rebellious or was it natural for an independant 25 year old to feel confined and suffercated? Was i running or simply taking my space? It was only 10 days in and my moods swung wildly between loving this harcore in depth spiritual and intensely probing bible school and bolting. I mean this was school, authority timetable, and hours of lectures, study and workshops.
I was loving my bible, the books even the lectures but i tell you what: challenging and open heart surgery as people had described to me didnt come close. Today he lectured on pride, bitterness rebelion, resentment, occult and sexual imorality, materialism. like the titles arent personal enough, behind pride he went on to describe the masking of superiority or infereiorty complex that it masks, weakness or lack of identity, the inability to recognise potential and vitues. an inability to say ´no´ to people the need to do everything for everybody, the wrong motives and a focus on inability. that was just for starters. Bitterness leading to resentment, and hatred leading to rebellion a lack of forgiveness in self causes rejection adn disbelief of the father heart of god, a struggle to recieve his forgiveness, lack of love even to the point of self destruction in ones own life, and generating rebellion. traumatic experinces...the list went on each one detailing more than a title but what felt agonisingly like someone exposing your very core.
He asked us to look at how many of the 10 things finally covered you had had in your life and wanted to close, repent be forgiven and healed of, we had to admit out loud what topics you had struggled with and guess where we started..? yep back row on the end.
The second half of this overwhelming class was focussed on generosity of blessing and giving tything, going out into service with generosity, and obedience. looking at listening to god and hearing him on how to bless someone. A week ago it had been scary part of exercises to wait on god for hm to say something in an exercise and come back with a response but now it was the least of your thoughts. wait on god for who to bless and how, the matter being obedience.
People returned with teddy´s, bags, MP3 players but the biggest things were someone who came in with their precious SLR camera and lenses and felt god had told him to give them to one of the leaders, jona. jona actually cried, he and his wife had been praying for a camera and were hopping to buy one nothing like this though, there were more tears from both givers and recievers and someone gave a laptop. the tears on both parts.
I sat down gazing out the window of the tapas bar the smoke not appealing but too battered to move, i orderd a coffee and sat with a pen and paper to try and make sense of the last 10 days teaching the falling about in the spirit, the mentor sessions, the new small groups, the intense teaching my general reclusive and internalising state and not least but to take full advantage of not being at the base. finally a night off, i had scrubbed my name off the dinner list taken anything i could need for the next 6 hours and run out into the sunshine. I simply needed some time to proccess everything that had been thrown around. To pray and ask god to help me see the woods for the trees.
They certainly didnt pull any punches here.
It was one of those days where i felt 14, i couldnt shake the anti-authority rebellion within, i prayed as i ran down the four flights of stairs, that god would sort out my head. having sat in bed and argued with him about simply not turning up but rather turning over, i knew i wouldnt rest if i didnt go.
I was getting cabin fever and when the day was out i legged it. I was starting to explore the neighbourhood more anbd more i knew the parks, the bars and cafes, and even libraries. So much time with the same people and always a timetable that accounted for every second of my day, i was questioning everything. My attitude, my heart, with so much time sticking your head in your bible it would be un-natural not to. was i being rebellious or was it natural for an independant 25 year old to feel confined and suffercated? Was i running or simply taking my space? It was only 10 days in and my moods swung wildly between loving this harcore in depth spiritual and intensely probing bible school and bolting. I mean this was school, authority timetable, and hours of lectures, study and workshops.
I was loving my bible, the books even the lectures but i tell you what: challenging and open heart surgery as people had described to me didnt come close. Today he lectured on pride, bitterness rebelion, resentment, occult and sexual imorality, materialism. like the titles arent personal enough, behind pride he went on to describe the masking of superiority or infereiorty complex that it masks, weakness or lack of identity, the inability to recognise potential and vitues. an inability to say ´no´ to people the need to do everything for everybody, the wrong motives and a focus on inability. that was just for starters. Bitterness leading to resentment, and hatred leading to rebellion a lack of forgiveness in self causes rejection adn disbelief of the father heart of god, a struggle to recieve his forgiveness, lack of love even to the point of self destruction in ones own life, and generating rebellion. traumatic experinces...the list went on each one detailing more than a title but what felt agonisingly like someone exposing your very core.
He asked us to look at how many of the 10 things finally covered you had had in your life and wanted to close, repent be forgiven and healed of, we had to admit out loud what topics you had struggled with and guess where we started..? yep back row on the end.
The second half of this overwhelming class was focussed on generosity of blessing and giving tything, going out into service with generosity, and obedience. looking at listening to god and hearing him on how to bless someone. A week ago it had been scary part of exercises to wait on god for hm to say something in an exercise and come back with a response but now it was the least of your thoughts. wait on god for who to bless and how, the matter being obedience.
People returned with teddy´s, bags, MP3 players but the biggest things were someone who came in with their precious SLR camera and lenses and felt god had told him to give them to one of the leaders, jona. jona actually cried, he and his wife had been praying for a camera and were hopping to buy one nothing like this though, there were more tears from both givers and recievers and someone gave a laptop. the tears on both parts.
I sat down gazing out the window of the tapas bar the smoke not appealing but too battered to move, i orderd a coffee and sat with a pen and paper to try and make sense of the last 10 days teaching the falling about in the spirit, the mentor sessions, the new small groups, the intense teaching my general reclusive and internalising state and not least but to take full advantage of not being at the base. finally a night off, i had scrubbed my name off the dinner list taken anything i could need for the next 6 hours and run out into the sunshine. I simply needed some time to proccess everything that had been thrown around. To pray and ask god to help me see the woods for the trees.
They certainly didnt pull any punches here.
Sunday, 18 February 2007
human again.
It had been five days since i had laughed or had a proper conversation with anyone, silently frozen in that state of wanting to run but so desperatly wanting to relax and being my usual self i think i was laughing in shear relief to find someone who had the same sense of homour. until that point i had even wondered why they had accepted me on the DTS if I was so different to everyone else.
its had been a tense week but that joke seemed to break a barrier and suddenly i was free to be myself. you know that stage where everyone stops seeming so unrelatable and totally holy and seems to become a person.
The base its self i was starting to hate although i must have explored the neighbouring area the most, one thing i was going to stop if it killed me was cabin fever, i had learnt from a friend who had been on mission last summer that taking his own space was invaluble to him, and going without it wasnt an option, it had raised an alarm bell within me when he´d said it. knowing more than anything i needed my freedom and space, to come back under authority, confinment, rules and day in day out community i was going to have to find a few bolt holes if i wasnt to go mad or worse still take the head of some poor missionary off.
The routine and planning of the day was fine, breakfast at 7.45 an hours personal devotion before classes at 9.30 were fine, infact they gave me time back in my anoyingly morning person routine. The rest of the day follows without much breathing space, classes of intercession or teaching stretched til 2 with a half hour in the middle for coffee and biscuits. lunch at 2.30 was followed by daily jobs, kitchen duty usually took me til 4 and an hour and a half was mine til whatever mentor small group or prayers at 5.30. Knocked on the head with dinner at 7.30 and evening sessionsed resumed till 10.
Saturday i was glad to get out and go to madrid with the others, at first pursuing the idea of going on my own but finally i admitted to myself i should stop cutting off my nose to spite my face there would be time to bolt and get space later, first things first, get to madrid.
Two buses and metros later our heads popped up in Sol, the meeting of roads, stations, shops and people in central Madrid. A guy in a white jacket, sat on a funky moped, his mobile wedged to his ear by the bright orange helmet as his sat effortlessly stylishly in traffic chatting away.
shoe shop after shoe shop with knee hig boots starting at 12 euros could easily turn this missionary trainee into a Carry Bradshaw, but no. priorities were suddenly flooding to my mind, i could be meeting my dad this week, it would have been 8 years and i wasnt about to turn up in the usual jeans and body warmer with only a face of make-up to hint at the woman below.
As panic set in i ravaged the sales of every store going to find a smart coat and pair of decent tailored pants, and some boots wouldnt go astray either. As the others headed home i stayed on glad of the freedom and independence once again alone in a big city, the world my oyster.
its had been a tense week but that joke seemed to break a barrier and suddenly i was free to be myself. you know that stage where everyone stops seeming so unrelatable and totally holy and seems to become a person.
The base its self i was starting to hate although i must have explored the neighbouring area the most, one thing i was going to stop if it killed me was cabin fever, i had learnt from a friend who had been on mission last summer that taking his own space was invaluble to him, and going without it wasnt an option, it had raised an alarm bell within me when he´d said it. knowing more than anything i needed my freedom and space, to come back under authority, confinment, rules and day in day out community i was going to have to find a few bolt holes if i wasnt to go mad or worse still take the head of some poor missionary off.
The routine and planning of the day was fine, breakfast at 7.45 an hours personal devotion before classes at 9.30 were fine, infact they gave me time back in my anoyingly morning person routine. The rest of the day follows without much breathing space, classes of intercession or teaching stretched til 2 with a half hour in the middle for coffee and biscuits. lunch at 2.30 was followed by daily jobs, kitchen duty usually took me til 4 and an hour and a half was mine til whatever mentor small group or prayers at 5.30. Knocked on the head with dinner at 7.30 and evening sessionsed resumed till 10.
Saturday i was glad to get out and go to madrid with the others, at first pursuing the idea of going on my own but finally i admitted to myself i should stop cutting off my nose to spite my face there would be time to bolt and get space later, first things first, get to madrid.
Two buses and metros later our heads popped up in Sol, the meeting of roads, stations, shops and people in central Madrid. A guy in a white jacket, sat on a funky moped, his mobile wedged to his ear by the bright orange helmet as his sat effortlessly stylishly in traffic chatting away.
shoe shop after shoe shop with knee hig boots starting at 12 euros could easily turn this missionary trainee into a Carry Bradshaw, but no. priorities were suddenly flooding to my mind, i could be meeting my dad this week, it would have been 8 years and i wasnt about to turn up in the usual jeans and body warmer with only a face of make-up to hint at the woman below.
As panic set in i ravaged the sales of every store going to find a smart coat and pair of decent tailored pants, and some boots wouldnt go astray either. As the others headed home i stayed on glad of the freedom and independence once again alone in a big city, the world my oyster.
Friday, 16 February 2007
What am i doing here?
amso what was i doing here? i really mean it. ive ended up in some places in my time but here i was at mission school in madrid, 6 months hardcore training. I mean me!? with the inappropriate jokes who battles with a love of cigerettes and alcohol, has so much baggage it has its own carosel and says it how it it (code for tactless and unrighteous) I ridden a wave of post australia ón fire for god´and had resigned to a place of knowing god´s awesome and contentedly leaving it at that. Believing all the while god was going to use me for some big thing because i confess him as saviour, have a love of travel and a manic caffine addicted personality!? had I somehow fooled myself into thining i was a visionary!? i was suddenly feeling out of my depth. I lost count of how many times i eyed up the bus stop and airport from the kitchen window while doing kitchen duty, it was much preferable to facing people with a language or personality barrier, I dont think ive ever felt so different from a group of people anywhere in all my life!
Now i know im not cut out for the alice band (oh the irony is im wearing a black soft one) calf length skirts and lack of make-up, but.....What am i doing here? i felt this was gods plan. I needed 2500 pounds and with less than a week to go someone gives me the full amount because god told them too. is it obligation as a christian or did she really hear god? i thknk she herd god, and i think im ment to be here, but i wont lie i think its one of the hardest things ive ever done.
Trouble is im so pig stuborn i think id stay out of pride and shear curiosity at this point (yeah right vic its day 5 and youve already legged it to a bar for the afternoon...(no boo´s or fags) although i cant say i didnt check the manual for loopholes, and despite finding one and staring the cigerette machine out, i have only consumed an unhealthy amount of sugar in the form of fanta and churros con chocolate, not the best advised mix (if your considering it))
The next few hours will make or break as we are going evangelizing tonight to people at the train station - yep coldcalling missionaries handing out hot chocolate to not doubt suspicious and cold communters while telling them about jesus...IM TERRIFIED! (see why am i here!?) its not that i dont belive in the product - jesus is mind blowing! he died on that cross for me! AND YOU! and those poor cold communters. dont know why im putting lack of coursge self respect or dignity before the importance of telling them about christ (for those of you who know me, shouldnt think youd be reading this if you dont but hope it a genuine good read and a giggle and you really do want to know jesus he died so you can have a relationship with god and be blameless, you can be in gods presence!) so where was i ah yes self respect rant....humm
well will let you know at what point i start wearing calf length skirts, or stop beliving in shaving my legs. or even have a proper conversation...do you think shy people can be missionaries? seems to go against the grain... ah well we shall see.
Now i know im not cut out for the alice band (oh the irony is im wearing a black soft one) calf length skirts and lack of make-up, but.....What am i doing here? i felt this was gods plan. I needed 2500 pounds and with less than a week to go someone gives me the full amount because god told them too. is it obligation as a christian or did she really hear god? i thknk she herd god, and i think im ment to be here, but i wont lie i think its one of the hardest things ive ever done.
Trouble is im so pig stuborn i think id stay out of pride and shear curiosity at this point (yeah right vic its day 5 and youve already legged it to a bar for the afternoon...(no boo´s or fags) although i cant say i didnt check the manual for loopholes, and despite finding one and staring the cigerette machine out, i have only consumed an unhealthy amount of sugar in the form of fanta and churros con chocolate, not the best advised mix (if your considering it))
The next few hours will make or break as we are going evangelizing tonight to people at the train station - yep coldcalling missionaries handing out hot chocolate to not doubt suspicious and cold communters while telling them about jesus...IM TERRIFIED! (see why am i here!?) its not that i dont belive in the product - jesus is mind blowing! he died on that cross for me! AND YOU! and those poor cold communters. dont know why im putting lack of coursge self respect or dignity before the importance of telling them about christ (for those of you who know me, shouldnt think youd be reading this if you dont but hope it a genuine good read and a giggle and you really do want to know jesus he died so you can have a relationship with god and be blameless, you can be in gods presence!) so where was i ah yes self respect rant....humm
well will let you know at what point i start wearing calf length skirts, or stop beliving in shaving my legs. or even have a proper conversation...do you think shy people can be missionaries? seems to go against the grain... ah well we shall see.
Wednesday, 14 February 2007
why spain? Whats a ywam dts?!
so why a wigwamy ywamy thingymagig? WHAT IS A YWAM DTS!?
a Youth With A Mission Discipleship Training School is basically missionary training. 6 months learning more about god, worship, prayer the bible, and making god known. Each school is different and has a different focus. They are all over the world and i spent about a year or so looking at them all (well its planning, isnt it ;) it was last year my after my natural father phoned that just out of curiosity i looked at the one in madrid, i mean i wasnt going there right, i was just having a nosey i mean me - i was going somewhere exotic like tahiti, or the amazon, the rockies...but as i scanned down the list of things the school covered in topics and saw theri focus was mercy ministries in the third world (mercy ministries are any kind of work that helps the poor and needy) there more i knew this was the right place. The thought of spending 6 months here in madrid and getting to know my natural father was terrifying but very appealing, beyond normal complecations we had a language barrier that i had had 25 years to try and cross but not gone to near.
you see I traced my natural father when i was 16 (hes spanish) and have met hime 3 times, he phones every year on my birthday. It will be a scary 8 years since i last saw him, and his english matches my spanish (hey - they could communcate, and i wasnt planned!) so you can understand my nerves and anticipation about seeing him again, and meeting him alone. what if he doesnt want to know? what if its too hard to converse and its all too stressfull to persue?
we would soon see.
a Youth With A Mission Discipleship Training School is basically missionary training. 6 months learning more about god, worship, prayer the bible, and making god known. Each school is different and has a different focus. They are all over the world and i spent about a year or so looking at them all (well its planning, isnt it ;) it was last year my after my natural father phoned that just out of curiosity i looked at the one in madrid, i mean i wasnt going there right, i was just having a nosey i mean me - i was going somewhere exotic like tahiti, or the amazon, the rockies...but as i scanned down the list of things the school covered in topics and saw theri focus was mercy ministries in the third world (mercy ministries are any kind of work that helps the poor and needy) there more i knew this was the right place. The thought of spending 6 months here in madrid and getting to know my natural father was terrifying but very appealing, beyond normal complecations we had a language barrier that i had had 25 years to try and cross but not gone to near.
you see I traced my natural father when i was 16 (hes spanish) and have met hime 3 times, he phones every year on my birthday. It will be a scary 8 years since i last saw him, and his english matches my spanish (hey - they could communcate, and i wasnt planned!) so you can understand my nerves and anticipation about seeing him again, and meeting him alone. what if he doesnt want to know? what if its too hard to converse and its all too stressfull to persue?
we would soon see.
so what is my story?
well i will start at the begining, not to bore you to tears (before you switch off or reach for the expresso) because it relivant, although i do find a good coffee accompanies any activity.
my mum was doing a degree in spanish so she was in Gijon north spain for a year teaching english when she started dated a local guy there. Things didnt work out and she returned homelss and pregnant to finish her degree. she graduated with 1st class honours and a baby! (enter mwah) she married my step dad when i was three and together they raised me as a chrisitan. At the age of 10 steve legally adopted me as his own but unfortunately 6 montsh later he died of double pneumonia. In the next year i decided god either wasnt there or didnt care, i was no longer a christian.
when i was 19 i left to go round the world for a year backpacking and off i wondered armed with a credit card and hardend liver to put the world to rights. Come christmas time i was surprised to find myself homesick and stuck my bum on the local pew for an hour, its was a nice enough service, i bought a bible and slung it in the backpack wihtout much further thought.
it was a couple of months later in mexico having burning through half my cash, i was living on a loaf of bread and jar of jam which did breakfast lunch and dinner (i wasnt going home early if it killed me) sat in this hoval that resembled a 1980s horror movie, i opened the bible. un beknown to me i was tucking into a king james version of revelation (the old school english version of the end times!) but i thought well firstly i was slightly terrified, secondly if god was that big he was surely gonna do a better job of my life than i was! and thirdly if he didnt exist i had lost nothing, so there and then i gave him my life.
Since then i came home and did the ALPHA COURSE a course to find out about chrisitanity, ask anything you like eat some decent food you havent had to prepare or microwave at the end of a long day and then invariably down the local for that drink you wanted all day.
I got batised, an outward declaration of giving your life to god, i started to go to church and i learned ...no, am still learning to worship.
my mum was doing a degree in spanish so she was in Gijon north spain for a year teaching english when she started dated a local guy there. Things didnt work out and she returned homelss and pregnant to finish her degree. she graduated with 1st class honours and a baby! (enter mwah) she married my step dad when i was three and together they raised me as a chrisitan. At the age of 10 steve legally adopted me as his own but unfortunately 6 montsh later he died of double pneumonia. In the next year i decided god either wasnt there or didnt care, i was no longer a christian.
when i was 19 i left to go round the world for a year backpacking and off i wondered armed with a credit card and hardend liver to put the world to rights. Come christmas time i was surprised to find myself homesick and stuck my bum on the local pew for an hour, its was a nice enough service, i bought a bible and slung it in the backpack wihtout much further thought.
it was a couple of months later in mexico having burning through half my cash, i was living on a loaf of bread and jar of jam which did breakfast lunch and dinner (i wasnt going home early if it killed me) sat in this hoval that resembled a 1980s horror movie, i opened the bible. un beknown to me i was tucking into a king james version of revelation (the old school english version of the end times!) but i thought well firstly i was slightly terrified, secondly if god was that big he was surely gonna do a better job of my life than i was! and thirdly if he didnt exist i had lost nothing, so there and then i gave him my life.
Since then i came home and did the ALPHA COURSE a course to find out about chrisitanity, ask anything you like eat some decent food you havent had to prepare or microwave at the end of a long day and then invariably down the local for that drink you wanted all day.
I got batised, an outward declaration of giving your life to god, i started to go to church and i learned ...no, am still learning to worship.
im really here...
id gotten off the train with the most stupid size backpack youve ever seen only to find they werent there to meet me, so off i bumbled like a tortoise in search of 'los servicios' 10 mins later i was grouchy as you like, not only was i bursting - and going to punch the next person who gave me false hope of finding the loo's, but i was going to fall backwards into a further undignified heap from my backpack.
just at breaking point two women came and asked me if i was vicky marr id no sooner said yes as dumped my stuff at their feet and legged it to the facilities, they either going to think im rude or wierd but past caring (and not too far from the truth) i did one.
we pulled upto the base, a large brick block like a counsel estate but nicer stood over a park a contorted myself and bags along with one of the staff into those tiny spanish lifts, that tiny but nice lift that assists one to the fourth floor i later read was only to be used when absolutely necassary to avoid breakdown! it is prefered one takes the enjoyable excerise option!
sharing a room with only a canadian was an upgrade to my expectation of either a 20 person dorm or a 'sister act' like cell. but not too far from life at a convent breakfast is at 7.45 followed by an hour of devotional time 9.30 - 11.30 class or prayers and then a quick pig out break stop before 12-1.30 (although if theyre passionate youve had it -2) class. lunch is followed by work duties with an hour before class or prayers resume, more classes follow dinner. the bit im looking forward to the most is of course communal exercise like football and dance....did you catch the sarcasm?
but im here for a reason, and its everything i applied for, everything i worroed about and im sure going to be amazing in a strange way. guess i was a little naive in the last month, to think that a good drink and soothing cigerette was a better plan to sooth anxious thoughts than turning to god. that not reading the bible wouldnt make any difference if youd read it a while your relationship with god and past reading woud sustain you when its tough. its only just hit me where i really am, that cloud of elation and joy coming back from australia on fire for god, was then. not now.
no running eh ;)
just at breaking point two women came and asked me if i was vicky marr id no sooner said yes as dumped my stuff at their feet and legged it to the facilities, they either going to think im rude or wierd but past caring (and not too far from the truth) i did one.
we pulled upto the base, a large brick block like a counsel estate but nicer stood over a park a contorted myself and bags along with one of the staff into those tiny spanish lifts, that tiny but nice lift that assists one to the fourth floor i later read was only to be used when absolutely necassary to avoid breakdown! it is prefered one takes the enjoyable excerise option!
sharing a room with only a canadian was an upgrade to my expectation of either a 20 person dorm or a 'sister act' like cell. but not too far from life at a convent breakfast is at 7.45 followed by an hour of devotional time 9.30 - 11.30 class or prayers and then a quick pig out break stop before 12-1.30 (although if theyre passionate youve had it -2) class. lunch is followed by work duties with an hour before class or prayers resume, more classes follow dinner. the bit im looking forward to the most is of course communal exercise like football and dance....did you catch the sarcasm?
but im here for a reason, and its everything i applied for, everything i worroed about and im sure going to be amazing in a strange way. guess i was a little naive in the last month, to think that a good drink and soothing cigerette was a better plan to sooth anxious thoughts than turning to god. that not reading the bible wouldnt make any difference if youd read it a while your relationship with god and past reading woud sustain you when its tough. its only just hit me where i really am, that cloud of elation and joy coming back from australia on fire for god, was then. not now.
no running eh ;)
Tuesday, 13 February 2007
new life anyone?
ok, to say its a little mad wouldnt really begin to cover it. ive travelled timezones and transport where you arrive 3 days later stinking, speaking another language of which youve only just got your head around when someones ready to scam you in the next. But nothing quite prepares you to move one morning into an instant new life that will be yours with not much control for the next 6 months. somewhere between rehab and bratcamp id applied for this spiritual detox of mission training and given someone permission to push me. not only was nothing off limits but id filled in a form that left no loopholes of their knowledge.
Having thrown my fags in the bin on the way out the door of the barcelona apartment and trundled off bleary eyed after 4 hours sleep with a backpack the height and weight of a small person tied around me, i got here feeling less than a little prepared.
For starters it was straight from lunch and unpacking to a prayer meeting, the worst kind - the one in a circle, with perfect starngers and here comes the bit that makes you almost pass out with fear: a chair is placed in the middle, its like the naked at school dream only worse far worse because its a real chance of happening! why do chrisitans love to do it!? (alright i know why and i know its productive and after youve balled you eyes out till you look so red and you return to your seat feeling overjoyed and light and people applaud (and quite posssibly do the head tilt thing where they rub your arm and ask if your alright in a soft voice knowing your not, have been fixated on your every undignified sob!)
i sat silent dredding my turn......
Having thrown my fags in the bin on the way out the door of the barcelona apartment and trundled off bleary eyed after 4 hours sleep with a backpack the height and weight of a small person tied around me, i got here feeling less than a little prepared.
For starters it was straight from lunch and unpacking to a prayer meeting, the worst kind - the one in a circle, with perfect starngers and here comes the bit that makes you almost pass out with fear: a chair is placed in the middle, its like the naked at school dream only worse far worse because its a real chance of happening! why do chrisitans love to do it!? (alright i know why and i know its productive and after youve balled you eyes out till you look so red and you return to your seat feeling overjoyed and light and people applaud (and quite posssibly do the head tilt thing where they rub your arm and ask if your alright in a soft voice knowing your not, have been fixated on your every undignified sob!)
i sat silent dredding my turn......
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