I’ve recently notched up my 10th anniversary – but forget the champagne corks. There was nothing whatsoever to celebrate, either by me or those closest to me. That’s because this summer saw ten years of living with what Churchill called the black dog.
I have a story about being miraculously healed, but I also have one about not being healed.
All I can do is hold your hand, my brother, my sister. I will shout and scream with you. I will curse this day for you. I will bear with you, for the Glory, for the newness. Until we get home.
If we feel a lack of power, we take it out on those who have even less power than us. We kick down, not up. If our boss yells at us, we get cranky with our children.
Jesus ignores the world’s popularity lists. It means he welcomes all who society rejects. The doors to his kingdom are flung open to the sick, the sad, the uneducated, and un-pretty; to the picked on, the beaten up, the socially awkward, and homeless; to pushers, dealers, con artists, killers; to the addicted, or emotionally unstable; to you and to me.
The best of blogs and videos Sep 2015: including Fouch-o-matic Off Grid, Sarah Bessey, Jeremy Corbyn, the lead singer of Belle and Sebastian – plus The Gilmore Girls.
[Jesus] has appeared to me, again and again, in spit-up and poopy diapers, in weepy eyes and runny noses. He has appeared in the mess and the tiredness of it all, and said, Here, touch me. Put your hand in my side.
The boy has a new obsession with making things and doing science experiments. I am good at neither. This means I regularly let him loose with some paper plates, a yellow napkin and an extravagant quantity of sellotape,
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Tanya Marlow blogs on the Bible, suffering and the messy edges of life [read more]