The Power of a Story

I spent yesterday watching and listening to the 'greatest story ever told', brought to life by a cast of ordinary people on an Engish hillside. The Wintershall 'Life of Christ' tells the story of Jesus from his birth in Bethlehem to the moment when he left his disciples to return to heaven. Real sheep grazed around the shepherds, Roman soldiers charged into Betlehem on horseback to slaughter all the under two's, and when Jesus cleansed the temple a flock of real doves soared up into the summer sky. It was pure magic and to the many children who sat watching, many of whom probably know very little of Jesus, it was riveting.

Jesus was the master story teller, and little by little, fiction is being accepted once again among Christians as a wonderful vehicle for illuminating truth. It has been said that non-fiction informs the mind, but fiction has the extra possibility of inspiring the heart and igniting the spirit. That's why I'm travelling thousands of miles to join around 500 other writers from total beginners to multi-published authors at the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference in September. http://www.acfw.com/conference

Stories can make people laugh, relax, understand their world better, and point them to the greatest story teller of all. But it's not easy, and there's a craft to be learned, if we're to spin the ideas that God has given us into things of power and beauty. A writer's life experiences and the gifts of creativity and imagination with which we've been blessed aren't enough on their own. Our own faith journey is the bedrock from which everything comes, and that's why I'm excited to be leading a couple of workshops at the Conference, on caring for our own 'spiritual vineyards' so that by keeping Jesus at the centre, everythng else will flow from Him.

At the end of the Second Act yesterday, we witnessed the Feeding of the Five Thousand. The cast spread out among the audience,handing out broken loaves. It was incredibly moving. As I took my piece from the proffered basket Jesus' words rang in my ears 'You give them something to eat'. What a privilege to have the opportunity of learn how to find another way of using words to give people a taste of something that can truly satisfy.

Travel broadens the mind

We've just got back from a holiday in Croatia, and I'm sure that the heaviest things in our luggage were books. Fiction, non-fiction, short and door stop size we took them all. And read most of them! There's nothing more restful in my mind than sparkling sea, warm sun, a lounger and a book.

Next time I get on an aircraft will be when I fly to Indianapolis for the American Christan Fiction Writers conference, and although it's all about books, it's writing them rather than reading them which will be uppermost in the delegates mind. Apart from the three children's stories which I wrote early in my writing career, all my other books have been non-fiction. In England the 'Inspirational' market doesn't really exist. So if I want to learn this new skill, to Indianapolis I must go.

It's a scary feeling. A flight with a change at Detroit. Will I lose my luggage, negotiate the terminals, catch my internal flight, and reach the hotel at what for me will be the middle of he night? Will anyone understand me? Americans and the British are said to be 2 nations separated by a single language, and my little grandaughter was once heard to say that 'my grandma writes books and she talks like the Queen!' Still we are supposed to speak the Queen's English so perhaps I'll be OK and not drop any clangers, which I dd when last talking to American friends.. But I don't know a soul - will the natives be friendly? Well I'll find ot in three months time. And in the meantime I'd love to hear from any one else who is travelling across the ocean in September.

Forever Friends

One of my grandsons went to a leaving party last Saturday. Not that common for a 13 year old. But his friend is moving away from Africa to Europe. A new home,school and lanuage to learn . New friends to make. It's the challenge of 3rd Culture kids - which is the term given to children who live in a culture not their own - to deal with the fleetingness of relationships. For them it is rarely 'Forever Friends' but 'friends while their Dad is posted here'.

When his sister was back in the UK at Easter she had great fun with friends of her cousins. 'Will they still live here when I come next time?' she asked her aunt anxiously. In her world, this year's best friend may be 'My friend in the Philippines' by Christmas.

Does it matter? Chidren's friendships are often fleeting as they grow older,and many of them don't survive the test of time even if they remain in the same town. And even adult's friendships seem much less solid and dependable these days. But theres nothing like knowing that there' s someone who knows all about you and loves you just the same. I've been impressed by the quality of friendships expressed by troops fighting in Afghanistan. Even when wounded and shipped home for a spell, their greatest ambition seems to be to get back to the war zone and help their mates.

'I've got your back' is a phrase used in the Forces to tell their comrades ' I'm right behind you and am protecting you where you are most vulnerable.' I'm so glad that I have friends that have 'got my back' and I shall be praying for my grandchildren and children to have that same experience - wherever life may take them.

What makes a house a home?

Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

'I just want to go home' wailed my grandaughter. Normal enough you might think, but she was talking about Africa. Born in Uganda, she's spent most of her life in Africa, and for her, England isn't home, but a place where you come to visit grandparents and get spoiled rotten, but not home. So when the cloud of volcanic ash meant that her return to Nairobi was delayed for a week she wasn't happy.

But what makes a home? Before we moved we'd lived in our family home almost all our married life. Some of our adult children weren't pleased to think that they'd now be visiting somewhere different. So what do you do when you no longer need the space that was once so necessary. Is there a right time to downsize? Is bigger aways better? And how do you choose the essentials to take with you? What makes YOUR house a home

I had a dream once. I was staying in a hotel and my luggage had increased since I'd arrived so that I knew that I couldn't get my belongings into two suitcases and even if I got a third one from somewhere I wouldn't be able be able to carry it. Then God seemed to whisper into my mind 'You don't need another suitcase, or even any suitcases, you just need a ruck sack. Travel light.'

Travelling light is certainly an interesting option. When you haven't used something for a year, do you pass it on to others or recycle. Somethings are non-negotiable, but essentially a home is created by the people in it. The bible says 'Having food and clothes, let us be content.' I'm beginning to see that I need much less thanI thought I did - and friends notice the warmth of the welcome rather than the spaciousness of their surroundings.

Can you have a sabbatical at home?

We were talking about the Porgy and Bess song - I think of it every year and wonder how I can create a summer like that.
"Summer time, and the livin is easy.
Fish are jumping and the cotton is high.
Your Daddy's rich, and your Mommy's good lookin.
So hush little baby don't you cry.'
But what does it mean in practical terms? What pictures do the words bring to your mind? The first thing I think of are the long American school holidays - I guess that it's the reference to 'cotton' that does that for me. It's an 'out in the country' or by the beach, bare feet, splashing in the river or the sea kind of feeling. It's a getting up in the early morning and bringing home fresh bread for breakfast. It's sitting outside on a warm evening and looking at the stars. It's no clocks or committments - or only the committments that I want to have. And I've wanted a summer like that for years ... but haven't experienced it yet.
Is it possible to say 'Stop the world I want to get off.?
"I just couldn't do it at home" said Ellie. 'My life seems to be filled with other people's agenda's.
But since most of us go away for 2 or 3 weeks at the most, and some of us don't go away at all, can we have a 'livin is easy' summer right where we are? Even if we have to work for some of the time and the sun doesn't always shine. Will it happen if we have the right attitude - or is there definite planning involved. Is this where 'Slow' comes in? I'd love to know what you think! And what makes the 'livin' easy for you!

let them eat cake?

When you're buying a bible what do you look for? Is it the binding , the version, whether it has red letters or ... You could go on and on. Of course when we give a gift we may want to give something really beautiful and long lasting in terms of the binding, and I guess there's room for that. But sometimes I'm reminded of Marie Antionette, who, when told that the people were rioting because they had no bread said 'Let them eat cake!' Is a luxury bible an investment or cake? And how do we treat our bibles? Muslims would never put the Koran on the floor,write in it or toss it casually into a bag. Does it matter if we do that to our bibles ? Do we read them? Perhaps we have several in the house. Do we ever think of those who don't even have the New Testament in the language of their hearts; the one they use every day. And if we think of them, what do we do about it?

One small candle

My study looks like a bombsite at the moment. We've only lived in this house for 15 months but already my once tidy and stripped down filing cabinets are bulging. I'm sure that the papers reproduce when the drawers are shut. So in my new 'travel light' and 'keep it simple' mode I'm having a grand sort out.

One of the things I found was a piece I wrote when leading a Writer's course in Greece. The task had been to sit in the village square and watch life unfolding on an ordinary summer day. This is what I saw:

Only the vestibule is open,
the doorway to the church itself tight shut
Padlocked even - against what?
The casual curiosity of skimpily clad tourists?
Vandals who might destroy or despoil whatever sacred thing
the sanctuary cradles
Within it's walls?

But in this place, as in all others,
padlocks are no barrier to prayer.
And so the women come,shopping bags in hand,
To pause and light a candle
from those already burning there.
Watch the flame flicker, catch hold,
then whisper a prayer before shuffling softly
back into their workaday world.

And I, observing them,
Light my prayer candle from the faith fire of their kindling,
And lay my burdens
for loved ones far away
At Your feet
Knowig that foreign lands and unfamiliar practice
Are no barrier to Your love