Thanksgiving for Bruce.

Thanksgiving for Bruce.

Bruce and I met when he was in his late 50s, and I was a 17 year old school girl. He was a worldly musician, I was dreaming of serving God in youth ministry. How did we become friends? Well, because we chose to and we lived better for it. He wasn’t a Christian, although we talked about spirituality and philosophy endlessly. He never held my faith against me, in fact – as the years went on, he seemed more intrigued by it.

I thought he was intelligent enough to ask questions if he wanted, and I was intelligent enough not to give answers where they were unnecessary. We talked about people, sexuality, growing up, learning from your mistakes, trying to find your way in life and we talked of writing. We always talked of writing. (more…)

Let’s Get More Honest. Again.

Let’s Get More Honest. Again.

I’ve been reflecting recently, on a number of problems I see or experience in the Church (global). In my vocational work, we wouldn’t call these problems. We’d call them opportunities, a chance for someone, somebodies or some new method  to get involved in creating a better outcome.

As I was thinking about the various ‘opportunities’ I can see around me, I realized a lot of these ‘opportunities’ have been sitting in front of us for a while. Since I was a teenager at least, maybe even further back. I think these are opportunities to drastically improve the manner in which we do Church, community and generally go about our business.

Not all of these opportunities will seem initially apparent, but here’s my crack at the first one. Censorship. Let’s knock that one on the head. ‘What?’ I hear you say. ‘Censorship? But how else do we keep our minds and hearts and eyes pure, the eyes are the windows to the soul.” Yes, you’re right.   (more…)

The Real XX.

The Real XX.

To anyone else watching that Saturday night, we were just two women, obviously friends, walking along a bridge – talking furiously, taking photos for tourists and watching the world go by.

But really, amongst the laughter and shared memories – we were clinging to one another. My dear friend and I are undesirably separated; first by an ocean and then by lives no longer conducive to near constant communication. So these moments together were precious, more precious than words can aptly describe or pictures display.

We’re both real women – one married, one not. Both in creative, unusual occupations, both smart, compassionate and both lonely for authentic expressions of womanhood in our everyday lives. Both leaning on each other to find a roadmap through this life and spirituality that honours our beliefs, our character and our relationship with God. Neither of us certain of where we fit or find a place in the Church as we know it, without having to compromise or apologise for something of our being.

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