These are my favourite posts this month:

• Josephine
• Language
• Insignifance

And this is a recent wordle:

I’m really looking forward to February. I reckon it’s going to be a good one.

In summary: 1 down, 11 to go.

I’ve probably mentioned this before.

The reason I love Mondays so much is because I usually spend Mondays doing one-to-ones, which (and I’m sure I must have said this before) is pretty much my favourite part of my job.

Today was a little less full than a usual Monday, but I thought I’d mention a couple of highlights.

Catie and I met this morning, and we read through Revelation 5 together. The whole chapter is wonderful, and the picture of every creature in heaven, on earth, under the earth, on the sea and everything in them (v.13) praising God, is mind-blowing, but the verses that I loved especially today were these:

Then I saw in the right hand of the One seated on the throne a scroll with writing on the inside and on the back, sealed with seven seals. I also saw a mighty angel proclaiming in a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or even to look in it. And I cried and cried because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or even to look in it.

 Then one of the elders said to me, “Stop crying. Look! The Lion from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has been victorious so that He may open the scroll and its seven seals.” Revelation 5:1-5 (HCSB)

John’s reaction to the fact that there is no-one worthy to open the scroll – ‘I cried and cried’ - is heartbreaking, and the response of the elder is such good news. The Lion of Judah, the Root of David, the slaughtered lamb, our King, Jesus, is worthy, and that’s so, so wonderful.

Then this afternoon, Phoebe and I read through the randomness that is Melchizedek and Levites and Jesus in Hebrews 7. We had some good chat about Old Testament history and law – always, always fun – but the end of the chapter is my favourite:

‘For this is the kind of high priest we need: holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.  He doesn’t need to offer sacrifices every day, as high priests do—first for their own sins, then for those of the people. He did this once for all when He offered Himself. For the law appoints as high priests men who are weak, but the promise of the oath, which came after the law, appoints a Son, who has been perfected forever.’ Hebrews 7:26-28 

Love it. Love the Great High Priest.

In summary: hooray for Mondays, hooray for Jesus.

29 days into the year and it’s pretty hard work. Which doesn’t give me a whole lot of confidence for the 337 days that are still to come.

The problem comes, on days like today, as I sit with my computer on, and the ‘add a new post’ page open, and the clock is ticking, creeping closer and closer and closer towards midnight, and I just don’t know what to write.

And I suppose I could just give up the resolution here and now, except that, there’s something about a resolution and the act of making myself write every day, that makes me want to write at all. When I don’t pledge to post daily, then it somehow becomes much harder to post at all, because I feel the weight of making a post ‘worthy’ so much more, and then, because I can’t think of anything worthy, lo and behold, no post.

Which means, of course, that in order to get the odd good post, you’ll have to deal with the odd one of these nothing posts now and again too.

Hopefully the good will outweigh the nothing in the end, eh?

In summary: praying for a better day tomorrow.

Haggis, neeps, tatties, dancing, and jelly.

Win.

In summary: Scottish.

But I’ve been struggling with a monster headache all day, and after dealing with it and a day of work (including SLOBS and CU) there’s not enough brain power left to write a proper post.

However, I’d like to also take this opportunity to request some ideas for Feminine Friday posts in the future.

Any thoughts? Leave a comment.

In summary: retiring to a darkened room.

I don’t really understand the House of Lords. But I’m appreciating them a wee bit more today, since reading this article.

I recognise that my country’s financial situation is somewhat unhealthy at the moment, and I therefore understand the need for some cuts to be made, but the idea that single parents who rely on the Child Support Agency, or the Child Maintenance and Enforcement Commission, or whatever it is that they’re calling themselves this week, should be charged a fee for failing to sort things out themselves is, quite frankly, ludicrous.

Here are my issues:

• The implication that people are resorting to having the CSA sort things out for them because they simply can’t be bothered to do it themselves is laughable, particularly when one bears in mind how long the CSA can actually take to do the sorting out. Why on earth would people choose that as an option, unless they really felt that they had no choice.
• The obvious consequence to the proposed scheme is that the only ones who will have to resort to paying the CSA to actually do their job are those who cannot sort it out alone, and cannot manage without the money. The CSA was set up to chase down absent parents who refused to pay for their children, and now these are the same people who will be forced to use the service, only now they’ll be charged. So the poor and the desperate suffer. Fabulous.
• The pitiful assurances from ‘Families Minister’ Maria Miller who stated that the poorest parents would only pay £20 up front. ‘Only £20′. As if £20 is easy to come by when you’re a single parent, bringing up children, and then may have to wait months before you actually see any money. What a joke.

Apparently, ‘the government said it would seek to overturn the defeat’.  Really? Well I hope they never stop getting defeated.

And I really must do a bit of research into how the House of Lords actually works.

In summary: little bit of a rant.

Yay!

This year Northumbria are holding four days of events called ‘Escape’. They’re in the process of surveying their fellow students to find out what Northumbria University’s favourite four films are and then during the week they’ll put on four meals, and Peter Dray will give four talks, themed around those four films.

The CU are pretty excited about it (as I am I!) and I’ll obviously be updating y’all in more detail once the week gets under way.

But for now I thought I’d share a video that the mission organisers recently showed at their CU meeting to help the rest of the mission team get on board with the plans:

In other news.

Happy Burns Night! Please go visit Andrea’s blog, read her post and watch the video that she posted. If you don’t love it, then you clearly have neither heart nor soul.

In summary: getting ready.

I wonder if Ruth, as she cradled her newborn son, had any inkling that he would grow up to be the grandfather of Israel’s great king, David. Or if she had any clue that her decision to give up her home and security to follow her mother-in-law back to Bethlehem would eventually lead to the birth of Jesus, the saviour of the world, and the ultimate redeemer.

Perhaps I’ll get to ask her one day.

I think about all the little things that have happened in my life to bring me to the point that where I am today. God used so many different moments and conversations to bring me to know and love the Lord Jesus, lots of little things that, woven together, led to the biggest thing.

I’m often given the privilege of explaining my story of how God saved me and brought me into His family, and it’s a pretty long story, which only gets longer, as He continues to teach me and change me. But it always starts the same way:

‘I grew up in a Christian home…’

My dad is fond of a quote, which may or may not be from E. Stanley Jones, which states something along the lines of the fact that, “God doesn’t have grandchildren“. Essentially, you can’t inherit your salvation from your Christian parents – each of us must come to the Lord ourselves. And yet, whilst that is true, I recognise that God has used the fact that that I grew up with believing parents as part of the story of bringing me to know Him for myself.

A couple of weeks ago my parents were down in London, attending a memorial service for the Rev. John R.W. Stott, who went home to be with Christ in July last year. For the first 7 years of my life I attended All Souls Church, where John Stott was Rector Emeritus. I don’t remember him at all, and yet, I know the impact that he had on my parents as they grew in their knowledge and love of the Lord Jesus, and of the impact that that he has therefore had on my own faith, and most of all I know of the insignificant but wonderful way that God used him to bring my dad to Christ.

As it happens, my dad did not grow up in a Christian home himself, and came to know Jesus in his twenties, not too long after he left Newcastle University. About 40 years ago he was on holiday in Keswick, and on his way to climb Skiddaw he was introduced to John Stott. Dad was about to move to London, and Stott encouraged him to visit All Souls once he arrived in the big city. As the story goes, Dad decided to head to church after a couple of weeks in London, John Stott remembered him and greeted him by name and Dad was so impressed that he kept going back to church and after another 2 months became a Christian.

I love this.

I love that an insignificant conversation in an insignificant Cumbrian market town, led to the most significant event in my Dad’s life.

I love that God works that way so much of the time.

And I pray that He would teach me to make the most of all of the ‘insignificant moments’, praying that He would use them to do many significant things.

In summary: significant.

We had a lovely time: catching up, laughing, reminiscing, eating, talking and enjoying some of the sights of Bonn.

Unfortunately the weather wasn’t great. I really struggle to get my head around the fact that just because I’m on holiday, doesn’t mean that the weather will automatically oblige. January is January, and the weather will remain true to itself, whatever I am doing.

Sadly this meant that I took fewer photos than I might have otherwise. But there are some.

Most were taken when we went out on Friday evening for a wee drink. We headed to a little restaurant across the road from the hotel where Fiona and I were staying, enjoyed some chat and some cocktails (a Strawberry Daiquiri for me, a Mai Tai for Fi, and an Ipanema for Hannah), the camera made an appearance and it was at this point that I diagnosed the issue that has caused me to create the ‘take more photos’  resolution. It turns out that the reason that I don’t take photos is because I feel uncomfortable doing so, as having a camera tends to make people look at you, and I don’t always want them to do that. This fact became evident when I took a lot of blurry photos of the girls (and our drinks), so as to avoid having the flash go off and people on the surrounding tables turn to see us.

Fi and Hannah pointed out that no one on the surrounding tables would care, and confiscated the camera to take some well-lit pictures.

Other than that the weekend was on the driech side, so only one other picture (with Fiona sporting a particularly fetching hat of her own).

But, despite the rain, much, much fun was had.

In summary: failing to get over my photographer-insecurities.

Beside me sit two BA pilots, one of whom looks to be about 22 years old.

This is mildly concerning.

I’m eating a sandwich and have two cups of coffee, one of which was free, because the girl who made it is new and needed the practice.

I’ve had a lovely weekend. Two and a half hours ago I was in Germany, and in another two and half hours (Lord willing) I’ll be home.

This is a wonder of our modern age.

In summary: a little glimpse into this moment.