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.

I think hats are important. Someone (I’m not sure who and,since I’m writing this on my phone in the departure lounge of Heathrow’s Terminal 1, I’m not really in the position to look it up) once said that everyone suits hats, you just need to find the one that suits you.
I believe that discovering which hat is yours is an important milestone in a woman’s life.
I feel the same about deciding on a signature fragrance.
Does this make me strange?
Probably.

Anyway. The hat (or at least, the hat for now) has been found and I am enjoying it very much.

How about you? Are you a hat fan?

In summary: head-covered.

The three of us have been friends since first year of university when we met in halls, we lived together in second year, they both abandoned me in third year (Fi to the US and Hannah to Germany), and then I lived with Fi again in fourth year.

In our beautiful flat with the seat in the turret window. I miss that place.

I think friendship is a wonderful gift from God, and I thank him especially for girl-friends. These two in particular have been a real blessing to me in the last 8 and a bit years that I’ve known them. They (like a few other great friends) have challenged and encouraged and taught me many things, and they’ve bought me chocolate when I needed it most. That is the mark of a true friend.

I find it sad that we don’t all live in the same house any more – and I find the fact that I have a number of lovely friends who are scattered far and wide across the world to be generally upsetting.

Glasgow and Germany and Australia and Luxembourg and South Africa and Wales and America all feel very far away at times.

But it least it gives me a good excuse to travel, eh?

Fi and Hannah on West Sands in 2nd year (looking very, very young!)

In summary: grateful for lovely friends.

Lots of good things about that, but today I especially loved SLOBS.

[For the unaware: SLOBS = Study Leaders Own Bible Study]

SLOBS in Durham is always a bit mysterious. There are lots and lots of small group leaders and so there is a SLOBS session on every day; the leaders are supposed to choose one group and go to it every week, but that doesn’t always happen so one can never really know who will come.

I have had a group of 15, a group of 6, a group of 1 and a group of zero, but today there were 3 (a very lovely size).

We’re looking at Ruth this term, and today we were in Ruth 1.

And no matter how many times I read it I can’t stop loving Ruth’s speech in v.16-17:

“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.”

In summary: really looking forward to next Thursday.

“We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.” – Hebrews 6:19-20b

It’s a wonderful picture of assurance, but it also never fails to remind me of my gap year before uni, which I spent working for a church in Irvine (a wee town on the west coast of Scotland, not far from Glasgow).

I was a youth worker that year, helping out in a local primary school, leading youth clubs and Bible classes and helping at Brownies and Guides, but one of the most fun (and most random) things that I did that year was becoming an honorary officer with the local Boys Brigade troop.

If you’re not familiar with the BB, it’s kind of like Scouts for Presbyterians. It’s particularly popular in the west of Scotland and does seem to do an excellent job of providing fun (and a wee bit of discipline) for boys aged from about 5 up to 18. They wear uniforms, they do marching, they play games, hear the gospel, and take part in loads of competitions against other groups.

I really loved working with them (mostly because it was just very different from everything else I did that year) but one of my highlights was when they came to church for a parade service and we sang the Boys Brigade anthem, ‘Will Your Anchor Hold in the Storms of Life?’. Mostly because the organist decide to ditch the organ that Sunday and accompanied them on an accordion instead.

Comedy win.

I’ve found a clip of the hymn and some photos of the BB from back in the day. Apparently they used to let them carry guns – bearing in mind the wee Neds we had in Irvine I think it’s probably for the best that that tradition has disappeared.

In summary: accordions make me laugh. I know not for why.