The Very Broken Church

I am about to write some fairly harsh observations about the church. Please know that I LOVE the church. Church is where I have learnt about and worshipped my greatest love, Jesus Christ. Within the context of the church I have felt love deeper than I thought possible. Through the church I have met my husband and so many of the best people you could hope to meet. Every significant life event has centred around the church – births, deaths and marriage. I am for Jesus and I am for his church.

When using the phrase “the church” I am predominantly talking about the institutionalised church. I am drawing on my knowledge and experience of different expressions of church, far and wide, rather than pinpointing only one particular church. If some or all of this does not represent your experience of church then be grateful. If this rings true, may you be filled with fresh hope today.

Over the last few years my heart has been broken for a very broken church. Far too much of the church had become like a private members club. It was in denial about the lack of opportunity for almost anyone who didn’t look or behave like it’s leaders (predominantly white, middle class men). It was in denial about the true number of people regularly attending. Bullying and abuse by leaders was at best not properly dealt with and at worst completely denied, all to the detriment of the people they were there to serve. People were judged on the amount of service they could offer which meant mothers, carers, disabled people and anyone with too many pressures outside of the church to commit to ardent service inside it were not given a voice, influence or opportunity within it. Anyone who had an alternative view to the leaders was promptly silenced. Children were tolerated but shunned while the adults were doing the “serious work of Jesus”. Anyone could come into the church building, but not everyone was truly welcome. The back door was wide open and people were leaving without anyone even noticing. Vast numbers of people had left the church, many of whom were completely broken by what they had experienced within it.

A few weeks ago, an old friend shared a post on social media about different types of Religious Trauma Syndrome and her personal experience of abuse in the church. The list in the post included: 

  • Sexual misconduct
  • Sin watching
  • Obsessions with spiritual gifts and warfare
  • Purity culture (shame culture)
  • Financial abuse
  • Mental health abuse
  • Fear driven theology
  • Service abuse (overworking/underpaying people)
  • Destiny or bust (you only have one destiny and your sin can blow it)
  • Political abuse (you’re only a true Christian if you vote for this party)
  • Misogyny
  • Racism
  • Homophobia
  • Narcissistic leadership
  • Revelation (end times) conspiracy
  • Parental abuse 
  • Disabled body discrimination
  • The invalidity of other beliefs. 

It’s a painful list to read but a vital one. It genuinely took my breath away. But it also vocalised and validated some of the experiences I have seen others go through and some I have personally experienced, within a place that should be the safest on earth. My friend, though still deeply spiritual, has decided to leave the church. She’s one of far, far too many. 

Abuse in the church, like in many institutions, has been rife. Over recent years many instances of horrific, historical abuse have come to light. A recent BBC article says “The Independent Inquiry into Child Sex Abuse’s report says the Church’s failure to respond consistently to abuse victims added to their trauma.” It added that “alleged perpetrators were often given more support than victims.” and “The Church of England…created a culture where abusers “could hide”.”

Abuse is a stark and scary word but its definition is important. The Google definitions are: 1. use (something) to bad effect or for a bad purpose; misuse. 2. treat with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly.

Some abuse is illegal and horrific and deserving of long, if not life-time custodial punishment, but this is not the only type of abuse. Some abuse is far more subtle and though not illegal, is morally and/or spiritually wrong. In some ways this is harder to address. It is more subjective and can go unseen forever. There are not necessarily clear avenues to raise grievances. Many wouldn’t even call it abuse, but if words and actions are being used, especially regularly and repeatedly, to bad effect or purpose then we must not shy away from using the word abuse. To do so allows it to go unaddressed and freely continue.

While child sex abuse is the most extreme and horrific form, this report highlights some of the issues that are so prevalent in the church today:

  1. The protection and support of the powerful rather than the powerless.
  2. A culture which silences failure.
  3. A hierarchy with a serious power imbalance.
  4. A church in which victims of abuse are made unwelcome by those who have caused it or are protecting those who have.

That church doesn’t sound like a very nice place to be, does it? It doesn’t much reflect the Jesus that it professes to worship. Jesus, who invites anyone and everyone to come to him and be a part of his church. Jesus, who when he walked on earth, chose 12 of the most unlikely people, different to him, to be the closest to him. Jesus, who doesn’t lie or bend the truth. Jesus who condemns people who abuse their power. Jesus who is drawn to those who have been abused and forgotten and rejected. Jesus who gives a voice to the voiceless. Jesus who invites children to come to him and tells adults to be like them. Jesus who seeks out people who are carrying heavy burdens and takes on their pain. Again, Jesus, who invites anyone and everyone to come to him and be a part of his church. Jesus who left the ninety-nine to find the one who had got lost. Jesus who runs, with wide open arms and holds the biggest party for the one who chose to leave but now wants to return.

If so much of the church was so unlike the Jesus, they claim to be all about, why then were many pews still full on a Sunday? Why, though declining, were the numbers of people attending church still huge? Because despite its failings. Despite far too much corruption and bullying and abusive power, the church was and is still home to many, many wonderful, decent, God-fearing, Jesus loving people. For every bad egg (or bad decision made by an otherwise good egg) there were and are a dozen people who, though not perfect, are reading God’s word, daily loving others, daily serving him and becoming like him. There were and are people who want to learn together and worship together and laugh together. There were and are people who shine with the heart and love of Jesus. At its best, the church is truly the most wonderful place to be. But the balance between what was good and what was bad (not to mention all of the subjective grey areas in between) was wrong. I was so frustrated because I SO DESPERATELY wanted to see balance restored. Despite my best efforts I, and so many others wanting to call out what had gone wrong in order to make the church a better place, had been shunned and silenced. The church has remained a vehicle of pain for too many.

But then Covid.. 

For all the awful things it has done, Covid-19 has shaken the church in a way none of us have ever seen before. I am convinced that through this shaking, God is reshaping us to become as we should be (read Hebrews 12:25-29). There is hope. With Jesus, there is always unfathomable hope. A new day is dawning and I’m excited. But as we look forward to what God is doing, we must look hard at the hurt and damage that the church has caused. We must repent and make good that damage that has been done. We must repent for what humankind has created in its own strength, for its own gain and recognise that God is undoing a toxic culture which he did not create. God is reclaiming his HIS church.

The church’s rise in leadership programmes, schools and conferences has been astronomical. We have become obsessed with “raising up leaders” – calling people leaders and freely giving them authority over people. While I am not disputing that leadership is important for many reasons, such attention on it, such reverence on the positions of people rather than on Christ the King and his authority is very dangerous ground. Many leaders have claimed too much power. Many people have given leaders too much power. 

Leadership is a tough, often thankless role but we must remember that people in leadership are powerful people. Although leadership can certainly be a tough place, we have allowed leaders to adopt an elitist victim mentality. “It’s lonely up here”, “no-one knows what I’m going through”, “I’m facing a hard time because I’m a leader and that is why I have behaved in this way.” All people go through hard times. It is not the exclusive right of leaders and we must never underestimate the pain all will go through and will have to deal with, merely because we are human. To view leaders as victims allows the potential for it to be forgotten that they have a powerful position over who may truly be the victim.

All leaders have to make tough decisions and tough choices to serve the greater good. In the church that greater good is Jesus Christ and the principles of his kingdom. If the actions of the leaders conflict HIS teaching and do not mimic HIS actions, then it is not the church that God intended. Power has been wrongfully taken.

To put it simply, I want you to think of church as a party. Jesus is the host and leaders are the ones who put on the party on his behalf. They are key in helping logistically organise it, making sure there’s a speech all about the wonderful host, organising music and dancing and a feast as well as boring things like toilets and health and safety. But while the organisation is probably largely facilitated by the leaders, the whole church has a responsibility to pull their weight and party in a way that honours the host.

Jesus is the host and that means EVERYONE is welcome. If not everyone (and I mean everyone) is welcomed with open arms, the party does not honour the host. If there is not enough food for the poor (both inside and outside the party), but the buffet is topped up and people are filling their plates inside, the party does not honour the host. If people are being bullied, shamed or abused at the party, the party does not honour the host. If people serving at the party are being overworked or taken advantage of, the party does not honour the host.  If the best seats are not prioritised for the vulnerable, the party does not honour the host. If the children are not allowed to dance and sing and laugh and help the adults be like them, the party does not honour the host. If people are not being included, even subconsciously, because of their colour, gender, sexual orientation, marital status, political preference, disability or any other reason, the party does not honour the host. 

Remember every single time your church meets, Jesus is standing at the door of the party, looking for people who want to come in or for those who have been pushed out. He is looking for people who have chosen to leave loudly or silently, or have never been, running towards them to welcome them to the party. If the church does not honour Jesus and the people he welcomes, they are not hosting his church, they are hosting their own.

Too many churches have been hosting their own parties. I believe that through this pandemic (though I in absolutely no way think that the pandemic is God’s doing – that’s another blog) Jesus is reclaiming his party. He is reclaiming and rebuilding his broken church. While on earth there is no such thing as a perfect church, he is building it into something far, far better than any human could. But we have some work to do.

We are in an essential time of repentance and renewal. We must search deep within our own hearts and repent for our sins of action and of complacency. We must seek out those who need an apology from the church. We must seek out justice for those who have been wronged within or by the church. If this is you, I am so sorry.

We must take this time to dig into Jesus and rediscover him. It is only through knowing him and receiving revelation from him that we will be able to identify when he or his people are being dishonoured. 

We must trust that God is in control.

With Covid-19 and everything that’s happening globally, never more have we needed hope. Never more have we needed a solid plan. Never more have we needed a perfect leader. Never more have we needed Jesus. Never more have we needed his church, but one that is transformed. 

But what does church look like during a pandemic? The buildings are shut and although I truly believe there are many very Godly, wise and wonderful leaders that fit this profile, in the words of Claire Underwood – “the reign of the middle aged white man is over”. We’re all in now.

Church looks like a million different things –  it looks like walks in the park and chats in the school playground. It looks like friends huddled around garden fires and kitchen tables. It looks like staff rooms and nursing stations and games of frisby. It looks like 20 people in a village hall or 5 people in a front room. It even looks like zoom calls. It looks inviting and inclusive. It looks like doing whatever it is Jesus is asking you to do. Yes you. Get stuck in. One day church might even include going back into church buildings. Whatever It looks like, it looks like Jesus, and everyone’s invited.

If you want to find out more about Jesus, please ask a Christian you trust or go to www.alpha.org.

If you have experienced physical or sexual abuse please click here.

Yesterday I Broke

Yesterday I Broke

I have wondered about writing this post – Is it too honest? Am I hanging out our dirty washing? Is there too much to say to make sense? – but I feel like I owe it to anyone feeling like me. I see so many posts on social media that give the impression of perfection. I cannot speak for others but know that when I post smiling pictures it’s often when I’m having a tough time and I want something to make me feel better. This post is not a smiling picture. It’s the truth of what is behind the lens.

Yesterday our bed snapped. Sadly not from marital exercise but because the kids jumped on it. Shortly after the bed broke, I broke, and not for the first time during lockdown.

It wasn’t a silent cry in the bathroom. It was guttural howling from the depths of my core. I was stood on the landing. The kids were near and the windows were open. It was loud and painful and ugly.

I broke because of what lockdown has revealed in me and in the world – despite much good, there is much that is not and much that needs to change.

I broke for the monotony of existing – the relentless cycle of cleaning and washing and cooking and eating and tidying up, over and over and over again.

I broke because of the guilt that I have so much to be thankful for and yet most days I want to run away.

I broke because of the guilt I feel for not being able to nail home-schooling; for feeling utterly overwhelmed by the resources available; for not being able to simultaneously juggle the educational and behavioural needs of a 10-year-old and a 5-year-old; for not managing to stick to a timetable; for not helping my children to learn everything on the curriculum; for not raising children with a hunger for reading, maths and knowledge but a hunger for YouTube and Roblox.

I broke because my children are young and wonderful and funny and sometimes kind and caring and hardworking but other times mean and rude and lazy. I broke because my expectations of them and of myself are too high and I have set us all up to fail.

I broke because it all feels too much and my faith in Jesus should feel stronger than it does.

I broke because despite living in the 21st century where equality is supposedly better than ever, lockdown has starkly shown (in my circles at least) that it remains largely women who take on the primary responsibility for childcare, housework, cooking and grocery shopping. Lockdown has intensified these responsibilities massively and yet many are still expected to work in their jobs at a similar level – an impossible demand.

I broke because, even before lockdown, I see so many women who are clever, skilled, savvy, emotionally intelligent with razor-sharp senses of humour having to compromise their professional lives in order to carry the vast majority of the domestic/childcare responsibilities.

I broke because it is unfair that so many of the aforementioned women are exhausted, trying to juggle jobs and kids and housework. At best they have a rock-solid support system helping them carry the load – maybe their parents live close by or their children’s father works part-time or flexi-time or not at all. Maybe they work for/with people who understand that people get sick, children have nursery productions or are off school for THIRTEEN WEEKS A YEAR and can’t be left to fend for themselves. Some, like me, have given up finding a happy medium and have had to stop working altogether.

I broke for my friend who has mental health problems because she is carrying too much.

I broke for my friend who is trying to do her job and home-school her kids and whose husband works in another room blissfully unaware of the monumental to-do list and the load she carries.

I broke for my friend who lives alone and carries more responsibility than most can imagine.

I broke for all the women sucked in by awful pyramid schemes telling them it’s the only way they can “have it all.” These intelligent, personable women desperately wanting to juggle kids and own a business. They want to find a happy balance but their investments do little more than line the pockets of those above them. The only success they have if is if they find someone else to recruit and “invest”, thus bringing them an income. It makes me so angry. They deserve so, so, so much better.

I broke for the women who, to coin the phrase, are expected to work as if they are not parents and parent as if they don’t work. I broke for those who have had to forego careers and ambitions to, like me, stay home.

I broke because of the guilt I feel for not working and yet still feeling utterly overwhelmed. I also broke because I am jealous of those who do work – go figure. Because of our family’s needs I currently don’t work but I so, so want to. I want to earn money and pay tax and work in a team and have targets and ambition. Instead, I spend my life ensuring everyone else’s needs are met.

I broke because of the guilt of not being able to remain grateful for my lot at all times. I have a husband and children and that should be enough. I am truly thankful, trust me. They are my joy, my pride and, my goodness they make me laugh so much. But I feel like I have lost myself in caring for them.

I broke because the ugly truth is that I resent my husband. Dave is honestly incredible. Kind, non-judgemental, able to stay steady when I am not. He has been fortunate enough to not only continue working from home during lockdown but also be in great demand as the need for online services increases. He does a job he loves. He is professionally needed and admired. He makes things possible for others. I am genuinely delighted he gets to do his job but his high demand and long hours coupled with our home circumstances has meant my dreams have had to be put on hold, and that hurts. It has meant that I cannot work and, because of Coronavirus, have had to stop a course that I was absolutely loving and was the one thing I had that was just mine. Instead, I have become a 1950’s housewife, with less lipstick.

Our broken bed provides the perfect metaphor for much of how I feel. There is no fault placing on the broken bed. I do not blame the kids, nor do I blame anyone.  The bed did not break just because the kids jumped on it. It broke because it was old, needs replacing and has an invisible week spot. It has been temporarily fixed but at some point, it will need radically addressing.

Inequality remains silently rife in workplaces, churches, marriages and organisations. So, so many organisational structures are weak at best and completely broken at worst. We are not going to bring any semblance of equality unless domestic, parenting, household and caring responsibilities are shared. You do not raise someone up by adding to their already heavy load. You raise them up by taking, or at least finding a way of taking some of their existing responsibility from them. This means a holistic approach, looking at not just the person but their wider relationships and responsibilities. It may mean the employers/leaders of 2 people working together to find a solution for one family.

We need flexibility and total bravery to change structures to make it work better, for everyone. Coronavirus has proven that when the status quo is forcibly stopped – new possibilities are found.

This means every manager/leader/business owner saying “how can we help your whole life, your family, your dreams, your hobbies, your illness, your pressures?” It means having bold conversations about working schedules, pay, childcare, wellbeing, health – both physical and mental. It means dropping unreasonable expectations of someone with caring responsibilities, be it for children, elderly relatives or someone disabled – even if they are not currently the primary carer. Someone will be and the pressure on them might be huge. It means recognising that if someone lives alone, their home responsibilities are likely to be unshared and weigh heavily. It means honest conversation and radical new ways of thinking.

I have been told so many times “you are in this season for now…..”. I fully understand the sentiment and yes, at times it is true. But do not write me, or anyone else off because you cannot think bigger and bolder and find a radical way for it to work.

I realise my blog started with other reasons why yesterday broke me. I am under no illusions that we are in the middle of an abnormal and unprecedented pandemic. We are all feeling things now that we wouldn’t normally.

I am not overly concerned for my mental health – that’s why I feel able to share this. The current pressures have however brought to light things I have been bubbling for a long time. That stuff needs addressing and will be.

I am not overly concerned about our marriage. It is not completely broken – not by any stretch. We are largely strong and stable and that is why I feel able to share this. Like all marriages, there are parts that are weak and the current pressures have shown the parts we need to work on, and we will.

I am not overly concerned about my kids or home-schooling. We are in a pandemic and I am not a teacher. My kids are safe and loved. They are young and brilliant and they’ll be okay. There is more I can do and I will gently attempt to do so but in the calm of this evening I am reminded to be gracious to myself, and even more gracious to them.

Finally, I am not worried about my faith. Jesus says in my weakness he is strong. Bloody good job too!

Turn your eyes….

Turn your eyes….

It’s been a strange and complex few months. There has been a lot of uncertainty in many areas of our lives and a level of chaos that has been tricky to navigate. We have very much tried to count our enormous blessings but sometimes the weight of life and responsibility has felt very heavy indeed. It’s times like this when often my faith in Jesus deepens and my gratitude of him increases.

At just a few days old I attended church with my family and from that day I began to learn hymns and songs that have become a soundtrack, weaved into my life. There have been different songs that have anchored me in different seasons but this one has been fairly constant. It has been a deep rooted reminder to never focus too much on this life. To always look to Jesus and the hope he gives. To entrust all the things that I hold dear and all the struggles I face to him, knowing that eventually all will be well.

Whatever you are facing, whether good or bad, I pray this song is a comfort and reminder that you don’t have to do life alone. As always if you wanna find out more about Jesus, just ask. Honestly – you’d really like him.

The song is Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus and this version is sung by Lauren Daigle.






How I’m Approaching the Year Ahead

How I’m Approaching the Year Ahead

Along with most of the world I’ve spent the last 24 hours reflecting on the previous 365 days and pondering the year ahead. Although not one for resolutions I’m still making the most of this poignant time and trying to be more intentional about the usual – get fitter, eat less cake, spend less money.

Like every year 2018 had its huge ups and downs – personally, for friends, and all over the world. There has been unimaginable heartache and spectacular joy and everything in-between. Despite our positive thinking and own goals, 2019 will be the same. There will be wonderful times and atrocious events and so I feel an enthusiasm but wariness for the coming days.

My faith in Jesus holds me steady in the uncertainty. I have been well reminded of late that my idea of how life should be and how events should unfold are often not the way God works. He is absolutely not cruel or nasty but terrible events happen and so like everyone, people in the Bible included, I find myself asking why? Why don’t you just sort it out God?

The more I read the Bible and see in my own life and the lives of those around me, Gods plans are always best. He does not create the devastation but he uses it for good. God is perfect. He is full of love and kindness, hope and promise. He is the creator of wisdom that far exceeds my mortal mind.

If I had been in charge then Jesus would have been born in the Lindo Wing of St Mary’s Hospital with all the other royals. Instead he was born far from home in the most basic of surroundings showing God’s heart for the poor, understanding of being isolated and to show his absolute humility.

If I had been in charge Jesus’ first crown would have been encrusted with the finest of jewels but instead it was made of thorns and worn as he was hung naked from the cross. Through it he overcame all the bad and made a way for us to not live under law but in freedom, with direct access to God. He rose from the dead and overcame all death.

If I had been in charge Joseph would have been adored by his brothers while he wore his beautiful coat. His potential seen from an early age and harnessed in a school for the gifted. Instead he was thrown in a pit, put in prison and forgotten for years. But then he was raised to be one of the highest rulers in the land, leading the nation through the toughest of times with the wisdom of God and altering the future of the world.

If I were in charge there would be no sickness, no debt, no addiction, no relationship breakdowns, no crime and no pain. But God has other plans. He sees us and the world from a different view. I don’t get it and I will continue to pray and beg him to remove current pain and crisis. But I pray this safe in the knowledge that he can and does transform any situation, past, present or future and that he launches our human, worldly, very real problems into wonderful, eternal, unimaginably brilliant outcomes. I continue to trust that any situation, sin, problem or relationship handed to God will lead to redemption, restoration and beauty.

This year I will dig my heels into hope and do my level best to hand over every situation to him knowing that he will ultimately use it for good. This is his track record and even when I can’t see it, he’s never failed me yet.

If you want to find out more about Jesus and share the hope I have, feel free to get in touch.

Happy New Year – I pray whatever it brings, you know hope like never before.





I’ve reached my mid-thirties and so many of my conversations seem to be about marriage struggles. I’m no expert but here are some insights gleaned from the 12 years of wonderful highs and miserable lows of our marriage….

  1. A decent one takes sacrifice, compromise, continued hard work and some serious resources. If yours is looking a bit sorry for itself, it might need some more attention or it might be time to call in professional help.
  2. Other people’s often look better. No-one knows the issues like the one who lives in it. If Bill and Betty have a really good looking one, they may have spent years of blood, sweat and tears investing in it. They might have just started and are yet to discover the dodgy bits. Or they might have massive problems with the foundations that they’re about to find out about.
  3. Different things bother different people. You might be quite happy to get the paint brush out once every 6 months, whereas Jim and Janet down the road like to give the walls a touch up 3 times a week. Just make sure you’re united in what you think. Whatever you do, if the painting’s not going well then see a painting therapist. No-one likes to have their walls left untended for too long and painting should be very enjoyable indeed. (Painting means sex if the analogy is lost on you).
  4. In renovation, things often get worse before they get better. Some beautiful old houses look amazing until you try to hang a new picture and the entire wall falls down. You might take up an old floor to discover woodworm has set in and an expert needs calling in. Don’t ignore a problem that needs fast attention. If you can’t sort it yourself then find someone to help.
  5. Set a REALISTIC budget. Make sure you save. Have a contingency. Be honest about it. Again, if you need a professional to come in then get help. It might just save the thing most precious to you.
  6. There will always be distractions. If you work too hard, focus too much on your kids, spend too much time at church or on your hobby then it will suffer. Regular attention, appreciation and enjoyment is vital for a happy one. Get distracted for too long and you’ll run into serious issues.
  7. If you can’t sort out the problems because you’re not in a good place – get some help. The other stuff should be able to wait if you are actively working towards getting yourself into a better place.
  8. Appreciate what you have. It might be a bit tired and in need of some attention but if the foundations are good then that’s what matters most. Don’t let what you think you should have steal the joy from what you do have.
  9. The hard work never, ever stops. Ever.

N.B. If we’re talking about houses, then by all means be a good friend/neighbour and go and help decorate someone else’s house. In marriage if you get your paint roller out in someone else’s house then you probably won’t be able to come home. Start giving your own marriage some attention instead.

For my UK readers, If you need a marriage overhaul then my husband and I highly recommend the The Marriage Course. 

Recommended books – The 5 Love Languages The BEST Marriage  The Marriage Book

Seek advice from your GP if your struggling with, sex, mental health or domestic violence. Don’t suffer in silence.


Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

My family and I have just returned from 5 days glamping (glamorous camping) in the beautiful Bedfordshire countryside, UK. We stayed in an idyllic canvas lodge – a tent with a wooden floor, proper beds, a flushing toilet and and a wood burning stove. The camping field was on a 400 acre farm with pigs, horses, fields as far as the eye could see, go karts, an honesty shop and tiny rabbits and guinea pigs, one of which was delivered to us to become our pet for the duration of our stay. We called him Blackberry.

Apart from an American family who stayed for a couple of nights (along with their shellshocked friend who thought by country retreat she was off to stay in a castle – poor love), we were the only ones there.

Like most thirty-somethings I took the opportunity to take a zillion pictures. My kids are growing up fast and I have a new phone with a pretty decent camera. I want to remember these days and I want to capture special moments so that when the kids leave home I can look through my photos wailing at just how fleeting these years were.

My parents did the same. Growing up the camera was always out on holidays and special occasions and we would pose for the pictures that still fill album after album in my Dad’s study.

All these photos evoke memories. This one of me was taken on a holiday to Switzerland when I was about 9.2gJg24+iSxCfC1D94We%BQ

We only really did UK holidays so it was such a treat. The weather was great. There was a festival while we were there which we loved. We rode ski lifts to get to the top of mountains. We ate delicious food and stayed amongst breathtaking views. The photos capture all of that in all it’s perfection.

But we’re human and perfect it was not.

We drove all the way there in our family car – a maroon Toyota Space Cruiser. As we drove the 700 miles there our car thermometer picked up a temperature of 41°. The moon roof  and windows were the only source of air conditioning and hot does not describe it. Mum and Dad had to negotiate Paris roads which was stressful to say the least. It was a holiday with 3 sisters, 2 of which were teenagers and one of which was me. There was moaning and arguing and standard sibling behaviour. We played tennis one day which was lovely until I tripped and badly hurt my leg, limiting what we could do for the rest of our stay. My diabetes came with us too so long walks up mountains were inevitably met with horrid episodes of hypoglycaemia.

The photos don’t capture any of that. The memories we absolutely want to keep are recorded and every few years we look back through them with fondness of all the wonderful times we had. The less nice memories are just that – memories. They feel less harsh years later and fade into the abyss compared to the captured wonderful moments.

Just like my parents, on our holiday just gone we took perfect pictures. They were of our kids playing beautifully, lit fires and boiling food, cuddles with fluffy animals and a bowl full of chicken eggs. They capture a brilliant holiday with so many moments we will treasure forever.

But it wasn’t perfect.

They don’t capture the sheer exhaustion with which we arrived. A zombie like state from prolonged sleep deprivation and an incredibly busy and intense time for Dave at work. They don’t capture the dog phobia that cripples our oldest child that made trips up to the main farm tricky (though helped so much by a very understanding lady looking after the farm). They don’t capture the hours spent with hungry children waiting for the fire to heat up and no fridge meaning many, many crisps were consumed. They don’t capture the dirt that penetrated every item of clothing we took nor the trip for eggs while the water boiled in waiting only to find the chickens had not laid. They don’t capture the big argument we had while the kids were asleep, although our eldest wasn’t and heard everything. They don’t capture the hours spent awake at night dealing with our youngest child’s diabetes nor her wakeful fear of the badger making loud noises under our cabin for a good hour in the middle of the night.

I posted our perfect photos on instagram and facebook. I love sharing them for far flung friends and family and as an online diary for me. Like Mum and Dad’s photos they are a record of a very wonderful time and I want to look at them and let others see them.

But Mum and Dad’s photos are shared with narrative. We sit down look at them and discuss “when that happened” or “do you remember just after that was taken when”.

Social media robs the narrative and therefore presents a picture of perfection that is mostly not true. The pictures are wonderful and celebratory and capture the brilliant. But we must be wise enough to remember that we do not hear the back story.

I don’t think we should always post the bad stuff online. I don’t want to post a picture of my husband and I enjoying a meal together with the caption “this time last night I was calling him a *$^@*.” I want to remember the happy meal we shared. We know the narrative, it’s personal and it’s ours to dig up if we choose.

Sometimes it’s important to share the less good. I remember when Nia was diagnosed with diabetes we felt it right to share on facebook. We were met with an army of support and some key people, who may not have otherwise known, became an integral part of our journey.

Some of you may follow Simon Thomas on Instagram. He tragically and suddenly lost his wife last year and he’s documenting his grief and life after Gemma in an incredibly honest and real way. It’s raw and painful and difficult to read at times but it also shows the importance of beautiful memories he and his son have of their beloved wife and Mum. The British are not brilliant at grief and I am convinced God is using him to impact so many. He’s giving permission for others to be openly devastated and to go through an essential time of proper mourning. He and his son are remarkable and I am grateful for their bold honesty.

I always want to be real and honest. The name of my blog clearly demonstrates that. There are times when I will record the tough and the hard. Sometimes I share the narrative as a sort of therapy for me or to encourage others that we don’t live perfect lives. But I believe that recording beautiful, happy memories in picture or word is food for the soul. That leaving the bad stuff to remember with dampening retrospect is part of the way we recover from tough times and allow them not to tear us apart.

I want to flick through these photos in a year and remember the delicious risotto I managed to cook on the stove. I want to remember the girls running free and playing together and feeding the hilariously ugly pigs our food scraps. I want to see our family looking chilled and Dave and I drinking champagne in a field. And I want to see the beautiful scenery that surrounded us for a precious and rare 5 days alone together.

If you follow me on social media I really hope you can enjoy these photos too. But remember there is a narrative behind them all that maybe you’ll hear in detail one day. Maybe you won’t.

It wasn’t the perfect holiday because I’m not sure one exists. One day I’ll go to heaven and I truly hope to see you there. That will be absolutely perfect.

featherdown view

Self Confessed Devotional Dependant

The Bible and Christians should go hand in hand. They should but the reality, certainly in my own life, is that they often don’t. The Bible is rightly described in Hebrews (one of the books) as “alive and active”. It’s there to be delved into, read, re-read, studied, shared,  enjoyed and most importantly to be life changing. So often it’s placed prominently on the bookshelf but in time actual time read it’s much lower down the pecking order than the latest thriller, a cheesy but easy holiday rom-com or a huge repertoire of books explaining parts of faith and the Bible which although are often brilliant, wise and helpful- are interpreted by someone else.

The Bible is big and there are SO many pages. Some parts are easier to understand like the stories Jesus told or proverbs with fairly straightforward instructions on how to live. There are also CRAZY stories like this..“Ehud reached with his left hand, drew the sword from his right thigh and plunged it into the king’s belly. Even the handle sank in after the blade, and his bowels discharged. Ehud did not pull the sword out, and the fat closed in over it.” Yuk. Not only is it pretty violent in places, there are lists, and lists and lists of genealogies and family trees and WHY DO I NEED TO KNOW THIS??

There are some apparent contradictions and horrible things that have happened and sometimes God seems really, really mean. Some books are more depressing than the Channel 4 news. I so wish I could pick up the Bible and read it non-stop but it is a pretty tough read.

So what’s happened is I and so many others have become devotional dependants. A devotion is where a writer will choose one or two verses then write a blurb about it. They are often absolutely brilliant. They allow the Bible to come alive with examples of how other people have it into practice. They are quick to read, thought provoking and easy to digest. I have 3 that (on a good run) I read most days and definitely benefit from reading them. I enjoy the perspective that someone else brings to a verse shared and the simple challenge they give to how it will impact my life that day. I love a devotion and although I love my Bible it’s not been given nearly enough attention in recent years.

I’ve been a Mum of kids who don’t sleep for 8.5 years now. They’re up through the night and they’re up early. Like really early. I know some people are good and will set their alarms an hour before the kids get up. I tried setting my alarm for 5am once and one of the kids woke at 4.45am so I took it as a sign and sacked it off. I’ve been exhausted and have needed to be drip fed for a long time and that’s ok. It’s kept me going and I am so grateful to the people who have properly read and studied the Bible for years and years to provide me with nuggets of gold to help me.

I’m not particularly academic and I am not a skim reader so ploughing through pages of Old Testament law isn’t nearly as attractive as picking up an easy to read book about faith by a witty, insightful, American, 40 something. But recently I’ve felt challenged by God to really study his living and active word. Not just look up the stories that I know and love, not just read one verse at a time, not just read other’s interpretation of it but to properly study and go through whole books (there are 66) and in time the whole Bible.

So many times before I’ve tried to really study the Bible. I’ve signed up to (and never completed) online courses and reading plans. I’ve downloaded countless Bible in a year apps and got piles of paper and journals started with good intentions but never completed. I don’t want to just list all the bad stuff and excuses but as the name of my blog suggests, I want to be real and honest about where I am and have been in the hope that we might encourage one another to grow in faith. I grew up with parents who study the Bible daily and have seen the profound impact it has had on them and on me. I can recount so much of the Bible because of the upbringing I had and I want to pass the same to my kids.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again” is something I very regularly say to my kids and what I’ve been doing for the last few weeks. I’ve carried on with my daily devotional reading but I’ve been trying to set aside a few hours a week to sit and study. It’s nerve-wracking writing this all down in a public forum in case I don’t keep it going but it’s what I, and maybe you have to do. If you’re sat there nodding in agreement then try again. Try a different method of study. Start a group to be accountable. Download another plan. Buy a new notepad or a journaling Bible. Do whatever but just try, try again.

This time I have bought a huge Pukka Pad. I’m reading (by reading I mean listening to the audio Bible) and then writing down the headlines of each chapter. Then I write down a learning lesson (something I can apply to my life). Sometimes I have to think quite hard but out of all the chapters from various books I’ve dipped into so far I’ve yet to not write a learning lesson from each.

I have learnt profound things. Even though I have known the stories and read them before, I have seen something new. I have been reminded of promises God has given me in the past. I have been reminded of the importance of patience and choosing to trust God, long-term. Most importantly it has grown my faith in Jesus, his goodness and the future (Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. Hebrews 11:1).

I’m not sure if it’s because Bible study is on my agenda (like when you get a new car and suddenly everyone’s driving that car) but it seems to me like God is speaking to many Christians about this at the moment. I mean, he is always speaking about this. It’s reiterated over and over in the Bible. But lots of things I’m reading, conversations I’m having and even our current series at church seem to be about the importance of really getting into the Bible, and through it seeing God do some serious work.

So if you’re and old hat at Bible study, well done. Please continue sharing it with others and retelling what you’ve read. If you’re a “I wish I studied the Bible more” type then try again. Set aside some time over the next few weeks to study a particular book. And if you’ve never read the Bible then give it a try. The key may well be to not start at the beginning but to start elsewhere. This blog gives helpful advice on where to begin.

The Bible IS the alive and active and has the power to change us significantly, profoundly and eternally. And if at first you don’t succeed, you know what to do.


What I Really Need

I’m sat in a coffee shop, typing this on my phone having just had a ridiculous experience….

I’ve been to a nice out of town shopping centre, with no kids which is a rarity for me. “Great” I thought. “I can get some new clothes, new shoes, smarten myself up a bit.”

If you know me, you’ll know that I’m a fashion inbetweener; neither super fashionable nor super frumpy. I’d really like to look smart and on trend all the time but I don’t have the money and I’m just not the type.

But when I shop, I get this wave of crazy woman about me. I become consumed by finding the right jeans, right boots, that one style of top that will be my go to forever more because it makes me look trim with a hint of healthy bosom.

Today I got the “need” in my head. Suddenly our budget went out the window and the 3 new jumpers, 4 tops, jeans, boots and some new socks were essential. I easily justified it as I began trying stuff on.

So I’m stood in a Topshop changing room, squeezing myself into a pair of jeans and putting on a trendy jumper that was the colour of my skin and made me look like a spotless Mr Blobby. Gently I hear a little voice in my head….”Hannah….get a grip”.

You might call it my internal monologue or conscience but I call it the Holy Spirit. The quiet voice of God that helps me to make the right decisions. So I asked Holy Spirit what to do. I felt him say to go and get a coffee. In the bible it talks a lot about being still. I guess this was God’s way of telling me in the busyness of the shopping centre, to be still.

As I walked out the shop, empty handed I was reminded of something I’d shared at church not long ago. That week our car had started making some loud clunking noises. It’s nearly 10 years old and has recently had to have a bit of work so I thought “That’s it. We need a new car!” Before I knew it I was on a forecourt in a Ford Kugar next to a salesman arranging a test drive for my husband and I for a car we couldn’t afford without taking out a loan. As I drove away feeling very stressed I heard the same voice I heard today….Hannah….get a grip”. After, there was no stillness. There was a rush to get the kids and then ensued after school chaos. But later, my husband and I chatted and agreed that we needed to stop and follow Jesus’ lead. We’ve not heard the car noise since.

Now I want to be clear. My heart doesn’t feel like it’s changed. I would really love a new car. We drive long journeys with the kids. We love cars and would really love to have a shiny SUV. I would love to be content with our old car but I’m not there yet. Our car is currently fine and so we now need to leave it with God and make space for him to speak to us in that still small voice, about our car when the time is right. I’m hoping we find a winning lottery ticket (we don’t play) but I have a feeling he might not do that….bother!

So back to today. I’m sat here and in all honesty I’m feeling a bit grumpy. I would like to be surrounded with bags, new shoes and a big smug smile at the perfect jeans I’ve finally found after 34.9 years. But I’m not. What I’m sat with is money still in my account which can now be spent on what it was actually budgeted for.

I want to clarify that new clothes, cars, shoes and things are not inherently wrong. Not at all. But to assume we need them is. Today I was consumed by the idea of getting things that were not mine to have. Today God is really not that bothered about my wardrobe, he is bothered about my character and ability to listen to him. He has reminded me that he has ADORNED me with riches that will never be destroyed. He can fill me with peace and joy and hope and contentment no matter what I wear. So I’m putting down what I think I want and am trying my level best to continue to discover and pick up what my creator wants for me. Even though I really want some new stuff, they are not my things to have today.

Here’s some reminders for me and maybe for you:

I don’t need a new car to go on a journey.

I don’t need new jeans to be my best me.

I don’t need expensive make-up to be beautiful.

I don’t need the best food to be fed.

I don’t need a huge house to be hospitable and at home.

I DO need Jesus and the peace, love, joy acceptance and hope he FREELY gives.

Plus, I’ve made a deal that he’s gonna give me a smokin’ hot pair of jeans for eternity in heaven.

To my friend who’s going through it.

I’m not sure if it’s my age or just one of those phases in life but really rubbish things seem to just keep happening to people I love. My phone beeped this morning and yet another message arrived from a friend going through some utter crap. I don’t like that term but really, what they’re going through is hard to convey in any other way.

I sat chatting to my Father-in-law this evening, himself a Widower who cared for his beloved wife until her dying day. He had been to see a dear friend this week who has also been dealt a bucket load of the aforementioned.

Now my Father-in-law and I have been kicking around church for a combined 103 years. Between us we have prayed and supported countless people going through countless really crappy situations, and dealt with some pretty low blows ourselves. Do you know what? The crap doesn’t always disappear.

The sick person never got better. The baby still died. The marriage still ended and the bankruptcy still happened. Wars are happening and natural disasters are killing people who for some reason were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Our faith is strong and our hope in Jesus Christ is so very real. We wholeheartedly believe in miracles but we also know the very real disappointment of a seemingly unanswered prayer.

So how can I balance the deep faith and real peace I have and the reality of the deep pain and real issues facing so many people I love? How do I support them and hope for them and grieve with them at the same time? In truth, it often feels impossible. But here’s a try…

Dear friend,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it’s so hard. I’m sorry for the pain that you are feeling, both physical and in the depths of your soul. I’m sorry that even though you have done your best and prayed in earnest that today your situation is unchanged or even worse than yesterday.

I wish with every ounce of my being that I could take your pain away.

I’m sorry for the times when people have said a fleeting prayer or a fleeting comment that instead of encouraging you made you want to scream in their face that they “HAVE NO IDEA!”

I’m sorry for the time when someone who should have known better posted something on Facebook or sent you the most ill-timed text about their happy news.

I’m sorry when I sent you that message telling you that the future is bright when you just needed me to listen to how bloody hard this all is.

I’m sorry if you’ve ever felt like a burden. You are not. At all.

I’m sorry if you’ve shied away because you feel like sympathy has moved on and now people want the old you back.

I’m sorry if people have stopped calling you.

I guess with these things that often the intention is never to hurt or to stick the knife in deeper than you thought it could go. But even without intent the hurt is real and it’s agony.

So, precious friend, know that what follows comes because there has to be hope. At this time I’m the one who can hope for you and one day I might need to ask the same back.

I have hope for you. I have hope for your situation. I have hope that no matter how painful, how real and how final it is that God is real and his promises are true. That doesn’t mean that what you have been through will change but it does mean that one day there will be a brighter day when something good will come from all of it.

Will you or your loved one be healed? Will that most precious person you loved and nursed and watched pass away come back to life? Will your finances suddenly flourish or your husband suddenly become anything other than a cheating scumbag? In all honesty I just don’t know. Do I believe God is powerful enough to do all the above and so much more? Yes I do and so I will pray believing that he will.

But what if he doesn’t do that?

What I do know is that there is always hope. I know that there is a place waiting where there is nothing but joy. No pain, no illness, no debt, no heartache, no disappointment, no bad news. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

I know that might feel a billion miles away from where you are today so here’s my prayer for you. I pray that you would know that God is always with you and that he would sustain you today and give you strength to take another breath. I pray that you know just how loved you are and that you will see glimpses of hope and be able to fix your eyes on Jesus who one day will take you to a place so absolutely incredible that you can’t even begin to imagine it.

If you want someone to listen to you, or sit in silence, or pray, or eat copious amounts of chocolate, or watch trashy TV with you then I’m here.

You are loved beyond measure.


Why the Church Needs Less Community

Free stock photo of love, people, silhouettes, letters

Community is a wonderful thing. The recent horrific events in the UK have demonstrated just how inexplicably important community is and how well people who may have very little in common choose to serve each other in times of crisis and need. Even without crisis, communities can provide joy, learning and a lifeline for those who choose to interact with them. It’s so great when people come together for entertainment, to promote a good cause or to create, discuss or exercise. People are able to “be themselves” and meet others who are like-minded or completely different who just happen to share one interest in common.

Where I live there are dance classes, dog walking groups, cinema clubs, singing groups, philosophy, pottery and poetry classes. I live in a big city so if you want to find a club or group for something, there will almost definitely be one. Failing that there is the internet, where on some forum there will be a Ukrainian, web savvy Grandma who shares your unconventional taste in Scottish pirate metal music.

I am part of a number of communities, from school Mums to Facebook forums. I am enormously grateful for them all.

But if community is so wonderful then why does the church need less of it? There is a very significant difference between community and family which becomes clear in their definitions:


  1. a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common.
  2. the condition of sharing or having certain attitudes and interests in common. “the sense of community that organized religion can provide”


  1. a group consisting of two parents and their children living together as a unit. “she moved in with her boyfriend’s family”
  2. all the descendants of a common ancestor. “the house has been owned by the same family for 300 years”

The word family is one of the most evocative words there is. It can bring feelings of sadness, joy, happiness, longing, disappointment, satisfaction, hurt and much more. For everyone, even siblings to the same parents, it is unique.

For me family is a very positive word. I’m from a family where Mum and Dad are still very happily married after 42 years. I’m married to a man who is the son of a Mum and Dad who were happily married until they were parted by death. We have 2 children ourselves and live together with my husband’s Dad. We are very much a family and very happy with our lot. My understanding of the value of family comes from a place of being a part of one which works. Of course we have our tension and rough edges but we are not dysfunctional or separated by disunity. We are for each other.

I am well aware of the pain and maybe jealousy some will read the last paragraph. So many of my very wonderful friends have a very different story. Parents separating, leaving, not understanding. Childhoods filled with rejection and in some cases abuse. People who feel alienated because they don’t fit the mould due to sexuality, choice of partner, singleness or geographical location. For some, the word family can make them feel incredibly lonely.

On the news recently it was reported that there are at least (maybe many more) 9 million lonely people in the UK. 9 Million? That’s nearly 15% of the UK. As a self confessed extrovert, I watched with tears running down my face.  In a world which is apparently more socially connected than ever before, how did we get here? Research shows that lacking social connections is as damaging to our health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day (Holt-Lunstad, 2015).  This BBC article gives a small insight into the epidemic that loneliness has become and how broadly spread over all sections of society it is.

If you are or have ever been involved in church you will no doubt have heard the term “church family” used a great deal. Family is exactly what the church should be. We are not just a community. We are children of the living God. We are heirs, sons and daughters. We are Brothers and Sisters and we should behave and love with a much deeper love than if we were linked with a common interest or characteristic.

There are lots of exceptional examples of family within the church,  but I fear the reality is that our statistics of loneliness are not always very different to those in wider society. For many the frequent use of the word family within the church will further accentuate their feeling of isolation.

There are people who walk out of church each week with a crippling feeling of loneliness. Who feel invisible. Who watch other people walk out the door with their family and friends, laughing and smiling, whilst they hold back tears, about to get in the car and weep all the way home. There are people who have served on so many teams but have never been invited back to someone’s house for lunch. Who have joined a group that meets during the week but still feel isolated.

A blog post I wrote last year describes how overnight, my 1 year old was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I suddenly needed support and family around me more than ever before. The last “proper job” I had before this was the coordinator of pastoral care for my Church. Having been the one looking after the pastoral care for others I was now the one in need of it.

Looking back with the shoe on the other foot I cringe at some of the suggestions I made to people in need back then. In many ways I did a very good job. I worked hard and did my best to not only work on behalf of the church but to genuinely love people. But I guess I thought then that with enough structures and systems and meetings and community groups, we would have a fail safe plan to enable anyone who wanted to access pastoral care and the church family to be able to. Although it never felt this blatant, I would do what I could and if someone felt lonely then they were choosing not to tap into church life and there was little more I could do.

The problem is that it’s when you are at your greatest need of accessing community that you often are or feel least equipped to do so. What the last year has taught me is that the primary need for the sick, the lonely, the poor, the imprisoned and anyone in need is not a community group, not a strategy, not a system but love. The kind of undeserving love that should be found in a family. The kind of love that I explain about in my last blog post.

The very heart of who we are as a church and why we gather is not a common characteristic nor is it a shared interest. It is God. Our Father. Our ancestor. It is because of this that our relationships and our identity as a church do go and must go much deeper than any other community. Our goal must not be to create a community. Our goal must be to be and to increase our family. Our relationships must not be defined by where we belong but by who we belong to. We are Brothers and Sisters within a family that is underpinned by the greatest love of all.

So how do we close the gap on loneliness within the church and function more effectively as family, for everyone? I think the first thing is to understand that the church is like a wider, extended family. We come together for big celebrations; Christmas, Easter, every Sunday. But the wider family is full of smaller, closer families. This means we all have a responsibility to look out for each other, care for each other. To contribute, to be vulnerable, to love and encourage one another.

The book of Acts in the bible tells of a time when the church was growing at an astonishing rate. I am convinced that the way in which the church behaved as a family was an essential key in it’s success. I am unapologetic in my desire to see the church grow. At this time when immorality, evil and isolation are absolutely rife, I believe Jesus and the church are more desperately needed than ever before.

In Acts it says They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. People in general liked what they saw. Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved.”

People met and worshiped God, then went home to carry on the celebration. Yes, lets meet as a wider family and learn and worship. But let’s not end it there. Let’s open our homes and extend our tables.

So often loneliness in the church is seen as a problem that needs to be directly addressed by the leaders of the church. In my experience, the problem of isolation and loneliness is too great a problem to be sorted by a few. As Christians we all have a responsibility to increase out families. Of course this needs to be modelled by leaders but only as much as the rest of us. It is something we must all seek to prioritise and do. To first love God, then love others.

Mother Theresa was a single, celibate woman who was and continues, even after her death to be the single greatest teacher and activist of family. She said “The problem with the world is that we draw the circle of family too small”. She also said “If you can’t feed a hundred people then just feed one”

Some people within the church build family exceptionally well. Many acts will be unseen or unheard. People opening their homes to friends and strangers for fun, food, help, to lend an ear or to give a bed to someone in need. Brutally honest conversations about joys and sorrows. Late night prayer requests. Meals that are delivered at times of sickness, grief or the birth of a new baby. Money given to help people struggling financially or purely to bless the socks off someone. This is family, and it should be available to all.

I have an overwhelming desire to see God’s family become more as it was intended to be and to grow bigger than I can imagine. My contribution may be small but I will try my best to be family to my church. So Brothers and Sisters, who’s with me?