Hairbands

She sat on the bathroom rug

With quiet methodology

Fingers grasped around the plastic tube

Holding black stretchy ring

She tested each for it’s elasticity

As they were pulled off and on to the floor

She looked up at me

With wide eyes bright

As I told her

“Put them back on”

Head back down

With determined obedience

Her little fingers once again clawed:

The ease with which they flew off

Was not to be repeated.

Each day we read.

With her wry grin

we turn pages,

sing songs,

speak high, speak low

and close our eyes into sleepy submission

But eyes were opened wide for these words:

And I feel my life

Is turning more into dots

A mass of gray

Gold desperate to twinkle through

More and more

My daily trawl of

Facebook

Online newspaper comments

Political discussion websites

TV debates

Seems like vomit

Thoughts of waste

Expelled from the mouths of drunkards

Down 3am dark alleys

Waking up with foul taste in mouth

Groggily justifying

“Hey, I’m entitled to my opinion,

I’m just saying what I think.”

I see your

#100DaysOfHappy

Your

#OnlyGoodThings

Your

#KindnessIsMagic

Desperate to speak against the barrage of hate of

#BigBenefitsRow

Controversy of

#CBB

Because nothing is sacred from public abuse

#HateTheQueen

Even when good is done

When NekNomination is turned upside on its head

With sandwiches instead of Smirnoff

Angry words still condemn

When did we get so critical

Deeming ourselves so high

So right?

When did we forget

That in each vein is blood

Pumping to heart

Desperate for life?

So me and my mini-me

immerse ourselves into the stories

Of the caterpillar that is hungry

Which lion is hers

Discussing the places she will go

And anything else

That allows me to do silly voices

And speak that truth

Reiterate It over and over

Until it becomes rote, ingrained, her being

Over and over:

The importance of words

The life and death they bring

And the difference they can make

They flick off so easily

So quickly

So flippantly

But can’t be put back the same

“Taste your words, before you spit them out”

The wise woman said.

Beautiful Responsibility

She doesn't scream, but I still hear her

Hand sucking in crib

Voice quietly and aimlessly chattering

When picked up, arms envelope my neck

And sudden head bobbing begins

So sudden, head clatters with my lips

I taste blood in my mouth

My body feels tired

Wondering why I have forsaken

Our favourite time of rest

Clammy fingers reach up towards my neck and fall in submission

As large gulps begin

The wild animal is tamed

And so I lie

For ten

Or twenty

Or thirty

Too often more than 60

Minutes with

No words

Just her heavy breathing

Cutting through the silence of night

Minutes with

The quiet knowledge

That to her

This twilight exploration

Is like manna from heaven

Full fat organic goodness

Her only way to survive

Without me,

she is weak

A responsibility that shatters my selfishness

Breaks my wants

Shows me so much of unfailing love of Father God

Physically, you tire me

Spiritually, you revive me

The burp rudely juxtaposes the silence

Your mouth accidentally drips its excess

Head flops over my shoulder

Body waves white flag

As slowly I lay you back down

My beautifully exhausting responsibility

{written in 30 mins during a 5am feeding session. feeding zella hasnt always been an easy journey...thankful that I have come to the place where I can celebrate it}

Life After Mission

We were asked by St. Germain's Church, one of our biggest supporters throughout our time on Pais, to write an article for their mission newsletter on "Life After Mission": what our experience has been returning as missionaries from another country. We are publishing this article to stay authentic and show our experience, as well as encourage/forewarn those who are moving on from Pais this year as they step out. 

S&S

----

After 4-5 years of living and working in America with The Pais Project in the USA, we packed up and moved back to England in September 2011. Much is made of the transition when a missionary first leaves for a country: raising finances to set up a new life, adjusting to culture shock, starting a new position and understanding your new organisation are a few of the enormous tasks to be tackled. Returning from mission on the other hand seems a much simpler affair: typically you are returning to the same country and city you were originally from, with many family and friends surrounding you, thus adjustment should be minimal.

But this is far from the case.

Spending so many years in Arlington, Texas gave us a very strong base of friends who lived close to us, whom we didn’t know what married life was like without.

Weeks were spent emotionally packing, selling and throwing out personal items in order to condense our life into a few suitcases.

We arrived back with no jobs, little finances and no home of our own, with Sebrina moving to a city she had never lived in before and 90 miles from the security of her own family and most of her best friends.

And on top of this all, Steve’s father was suffering with brain cancer.

We were thankful for advice we had before leaving from multiple sources that this transition would undoubtedly be harder than we could anticipate and would test us emotionally and spiritually. But nothing fully prepares you for the actuality of the situation. On reflection, these are our main thoughts on moving back home and starting “Life After Mission.”

You find even the smallest things overwhelming

Banking. Food shopping. Using public transport. Paying bills.

Simple everyday things that are completely different in Texas in comparison to England.

Having acclimatised so well to Texan culture, and despite England being our home, we felt we have to get re-used to everything again. Frustrations often built when we couldn’t quite master or understand the system and we felt like we had to ask for help with the most basic of things. Slowly we got readjusted to the new way of living and found systems that worked for us, but we had to power through the “overwhelmed” feeling.

You question whether you made the best decision

In the Old Testament, when things went badly for an individual (eg. Job) it is assumed that they have sinned in some way: Job’s friends gathered around him begging him to confess some dreadful sin he had done. The grace of Jesus and the nature of the sinful world that we live in shows us today that this is warped theology, but we can’t help but wonder what we did wrong when things don’t go our way. Despite emotional support from family, friends and St Germain’s church, things often spiralled out of our control and we couldn’t settle as well as we assumed we would. The situation was overpowering, creating lots of tears and questioning about whether moving was the best situation. We knew that it had been a prayerful decision over the course of 18 months, but we needed constant reminders of this in order to be confident in the difficult situation we had found ourselves in.

You worry about the work you have left behind

Having spent so much energy, time and love investing in our roles, and more importantly individuals, leaving was hard. We had clearly communicated our departure in advance but still there were difficulties in our transition. Pais had not been able to find a replacement for Steve’s role as quickly as expected. The Co-National director of Pais:USA was suffering an undiagnosed illness thus the leadership was stretched with extra responsibilities. Some students, despite our best efforts, were connected solely to us and not the wider church thus felt too much of a gap when we left. The wonders of the internet meant that we could talk regularly to all those we missed, but sometimes that made it worse, making us more aware of issues that were going on back in Texas. You slowly have to manage not stopping in your care of those in your old place, but not letting that care consume you and make you feel unnecessarily guilty about situations beyond your control. It becomes a time of learning to depend on the fact that Father God is completely sovereign over all the earth.

You question your spiritual purpose now you aren’t officially in “ministry”

The apostle Paul talks of the body of Christ and the role each of us have to play within it. With the status ‘missionary’ you have great ease finding this role as it is placed upon you: you have a job title, responsibilities, people dependent upon you, events to organise, teaching to plan…your spiritual purpose it seems is clearly laid out when you are in ministry. Suddenly, back home after mission, everything changes: Sunday services aren’t dependent upon you, you haven’t got the set people you are meeting, mid-week events occur whether or not you are there to start or finish them. The lack of responsibility and new found freedom can affect people in two different ways. On one side, you could become revitalised and refreshed, feeling free to try something new and enjoy church more because you now have more of a choice about whether or not you attend. On the other hand, it can leave you confused and feeling redundant, unneeded and unsure of where or if to serve. Both of us have felt both sides of this coin, but are slowly moving into a place of exploring what new things await us in regards to our ministry. One of the great blessings for both of us has been suddenly thrust into a work environment filled with different faiths and we have gladly relished this opportunity which is not afforded to you when you work entirely in a Christian team.

‘Life After Mission’ is a mess of emotions, thoughts and practicalities. At times it can feel that you will never be settled back in, or be able to stop these conflicting emotions. Slowly though, you realise that there is no such thing as “life after mission” – we are all called to a certain place, at a certain time, for a certain purpose, and there are people in our spheres of influence crying out for us to reach out to them, to see them as our mission field, right on our very doorsteps. The thing that people struggle most with in life are transitions, and moving from a different country and completely changing job and responsibility are two transitions combined that have the potential to break an unsupported individual or family. Our prayer, is that Father God will lead all of us to be more aware of those who are experiencing transitions around us, and to find practical ways to support them as they traverse their new life.

Joneses

I want to be like the Joneses.

The Joneses are a great couple.

Fun, lively, adventurous.

And most importantly,

They have lots of money.

They’re both professionals, well respected in their jobs,

And at the end of the month, when their pay cheque arrives

They don’t weep with sadness.

The Joneses love to travel and go and see their friends all the time

They always buy everyone’s drinks at the bar

They produce the most unique and expensive birthday presents for friends

Their clothing is impeccable.

Parties, at the fancy hotels they hire, are an extravagant evening of outrageous fun.

Holidays are filled with business class jaunts across the world

And they can often afford to pay

for other members of their family to join them.

The Joneses are cool.

The Joneses are great.

But the Joneses are not the Millers.

And that makes me envious.

I have this nagging feeling that the Millers

will never be that couple who earn tons of money.

And I thought I was ok with that.

Neither one of us has a tremendous desire to climb the corporate ladder

After Miller man’s brief encounter of retail management,

he realised that he wanted to grow people and not profits

After Miller woman’s profound calling to youth ministry aged 15,

she knew that she was inspired by the thought of impacting the lives of the broken, young and hurting

Neither one of these comes with a massive pay packet

And that was ok

I thought

But five years following graduation

Not even earning enough to meet student loan pay off threshold

And you start to wonder

Is the life of the Millers that good

That effective

That profitable?

And you peek over the fence

And the grass looks lush and bright

And for just a day, or a week

It seems great to roll around

On the other side

Profound night thoughts make me ponder

What is true wealth?

For our wealth of experiences

Of travels to African continent

Jet set transatlantic life

Training people who impact a generation

Helping write book that calls others to action

Mentoring young people and seeing them thrive in their futures

Being told by non-Christians, that our faith seems so strong

Is there not a great richness in this as well?

And commitment made, and stuck to, alongside marriage vows

To live debtless

Unchained

Without credit card, store cards

Mortgage or car loan

And see the real freedom

That could be had

Are we not richer with bank balance that stays in black?

When Father’s holy word says

“fret not yourself”

and

“do not be envious”

I must remind myself

We are the Millers

Called to something different than the Joneses

Or the Smiths, or the Blacks, or the Scots

Our path is individual

And looking over fences

Merely distracts from the garden I am to tend on my own patch

Being rich is not a crime

Being poor is a not a sin

The real travesty of life

Is when I’m so blinded by the endeavour for the more and different to what I have

The world misses out on me concentrating

On the things I am called to

The things the Millers are meant to do.

Photo © Paul Green

Others

Another morning spent praying to the porcelain God…

My whole body aches and wretches in pain as, once again, part of my day is spent trying to count the pounds of food wasted, destined for life as sewage

I pride myself on being a relatively healthy person. No major ailments other than anaemia, no broken bones, no big diseases, in fact my only childhood trip to the hospital was to the ear, nose & eye clinic in Oxford, where aged six I lodged a stone up my nose during a boring outdoor assembly.

I have always been an overachiever.

Pregnancy however is proving my Achilles heel, sapping my freakish man strength from my very core:

Anaemia – haemoglobin count lower than ever, creating uber tiredness

PGP – Pelvic girdle pain, causing excruciating hip pain when I sleep on my back and often getting in/out of bed

Pulled muscle in chest – pain breathing deeply, coughing, sneezing, laughing too hard

Suspected UTI – urinary tract infection, causing frequent peeing and pain

At times I have felt my body completely defeated me

And then I remember “them”

That growing life needing energy and nutrients and safety

And I find myself saying to people:

“I don’t care how sick I get, as long as “they” are ok.”

If I puke everyday, which I seem to enjoy so much, it seems worthwhile pain to endure as long as baby is alright.

Pregnancy seems to be cracking this snow queen’s heart.

Making her think of someone other than self.

And I’m reminded of Jesus:

“When he saw the multitudes, He was moved by compassion for them…”

“He said, ‘They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.’”

“Ok, My Father, if this cup [dying for man’s sins on the cross] cannot pass away from Me unless I drink it, Your will be done.”

I know I am no Jesus.

But this womb growing seeks to shape and embrace the fullness of this simple truth.

Others first.

What situation today is Father God using to call you into that place?

The place where you sip

Bitter drink

Gladly

For joy is found when that cup

Is empty

Drunk

Fully devoured

To save the lives

of others. 

Inbetween

Life As We Know It

I haven’t been very good at writing recently.

So much going on, so many thoughts…

But an inability to write has remained

Is it possible that so much is happening

So much is overwhelming

That the thoughts of it all just totally take over

And I can’t get any kind of words out

This “inbetween” stage is hard because there are no real inbetween stages in life

We are constantly going and moving

And Father God is teaching us something in it all

So I search through all the dirt and grit

To find those jewels

Those treasures

That I can hold onto

And that make this striving feel worthwhile

Short details on the various areas of our life:

Steve’s dad continues to be ill. Not sure how much improvement there is. He knows who we are when we visit the hospital so that is comforting, but he is very confused and tired. His mobility is by no means back to 100%. He had two small falls over the weekend at the hospital as he seemingly tried to do too much. He had a CT scan yesterday showing some swelling which led them to do an MRI today. Visiting hours are 2-4pm and 6:30-8:30pm each day. Steve, Ruth and I try and attend one each day, with amazing friends and beautiful congregation from St. Germain’s church going to the other hours. He is still on the Orthopaedic ward because of the broken bones. We are hoping he will move to the Oncology ward as soon as possible to get treatment for the tumour/cancer more effectively.

Steve’s desire to be a teacher continues. He is currently in ‘Plan A’ – getting a Full Time job with a primary school willing to put him through his GTP (graduate teacher programme – paid on the job teacher training for a year). He will keep going with this until the end of next week, and if there is no luck, he will move onto his ‘Plan B.’ He has been contacting dozens of schools via email and telephone. He is so organised ordered and courageous in it all. So proud of him and inspired by him. Today he had a look around at a school ahead of sending in an application for a Learning Support Assistant role at a local school. He really liked the school, and is hoping to get an interview.

My future plans have two paths. Path one is getting short term employment so we have money to live on. Last week I sent out/delivered my (very pretty) cv/resume to several female clothing stores in the city centre. Had some news/feedback for a couple saying there were now no vacancies or only 4 hr contracts, but I have an interview with one tomorrow (Wednesday) which is just a part-time role, with the potential for more hours at their store, or one of the other branches in the city. Not sure which one will be the right one, but hopeful Father God will lead me.

Path two is getting onto a social work masters course. Path two splits into two separate plans [the Millers are loving their plans at the moment!!]

‘Plan A’: Step Up to Social Work starting Feb 2012, paid masters course with Sandwell County Council (West Birmingham). I have made it through the first stage (review of the 2700 applications) and now my application is with the Sandwell County Council for them to review. I will find out by the end of the month if I have made it though to the next stage [interview/assessment centre day].

‘Plan B’: traditional Social Work masters starting Sept 2012, unpaid masters course with (hopefully) the University of Birmingham. I am completing my application, and have to write a one page personal statement on why I want to do the course, thoughts on social work, past experience etc. The deadline is January 15^th, but I want to get it in mid October to give myself the best chance of placement.

We have visited friends and family in Bristol and Oxford and look forward to visits to Burnley, York, Boure and St Neots from Thurs-Sun. Lots of driving, but lots of fun with people we spend far too little time with.

There is lots of other boring admin involving driving licenses, visiting doctors and dentists, and various other things. The only exciting part is I had my eyes tested (it had been 4 years since I last had them done) and discovered my left eye has got weaker and my right eye is over compensating for it, but that is putting a strain on my eyes so I need to change my prescription. I am sure there is a spiritual lesson in there somewhere. Plus side – there was a ‘2 for 1’ offer on glasses, so my two new pairs will be arriving soon. Very excited from a stylistic point of view.

I wish I had in me more inspiring words.

They are there somewhere. Buried. Deep.

Please pray for us and all the various needs we have.

Also to throw in there, I need to have documentation of my school exams taken aged 16 & 18 which are in a file somewhere in my Oxford house. Despite 4 hours of searching over the weekend, we are yet to find them. Cost to replace them is in excess of £200 ($300), money we would prefer not to spend on something like that.

Missing our Texas people lots and lots.

Missing the sun too.

Sleep

Last night my eyes hit the pillow at 4am.

Facedown into my billowing down clouds they went

Only to be abruptly awoken at 8:50am by a husbands kisses goodbye,

and a glance to the clock to see that I was being picked up

in 15 minutes time.

Car horn honks at 9:05 to which a reply is sent:

Just got out of the bathroom. Be down in 2 mins.

Tiredly I climb into the car emotionally but not physically ready for 8 hours of writing, conversations, birthday brownies delivery, emails and Facebook polling.

Followed by dinner and talks, celebrating the life of an 8 year old.

Cosied in pyjama’s, at nearly midnight, I cuddle with husband as he continues his Fifa ‘Battle of Glory.’

Oh how I wish this day wasn’t typical.

But such is the life when you believe.

That your skills and gifts are not for your sake.

People are valuable.

There is much to be learned from those older than you.

That children desire and love your attention.

That even brief moments together can make an impact.

That Father God is doing great things

And you are desperate to be a part of them.

My feet drag when faced with enforced task

Knowing there is an impact, and I need to be a good steward,

I will continue to work hard

By my heart knows it tastes dissatisfaction

And it longs for more

But when you love

Oh how your butt can haul

And work

Feverishly

Feverently

Tirelessly

Relentlessly

Tired eyes continued to type, edit and examine

With the arrival of the dawn

For the heart believed in the work

Of the hands.

How long can my soulless body

Sit at bring desk

And look outside at open field

Desperate for exploration?

When I stepped out of Pais almost a year ago,

Several wondered if this was a turn wrong

I stretched and pressed in

To hear Father God’s voice speak to me

Yearning for the noise in the whisper

And I stand now

Awed

Amazed

At how wonderfully hard

How beautiful an adventure

Into who I am

And who I am in Him

And how this changes

the world around me

Exposing where my heart lies

by what my actions have done

time spent on strange, and new, and ordinary

made sweet lemonade

when given oranges

The wandering 

has been the most honest thing I have ever truly done.

deep calls to deep

soul cries loud

"Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now"