"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind." (James,1:5-8)

God knocked me for six at church this morning and brought me crashing to my knees in repentence for my self sufficeincy and my anxiety over the future rather than asking for wisdom from the One who's very essence is The Giver.

And being the Giver he gave words to the vicars wife as she prayed for me that were so spot on what I needed to hear. Not necessarily what I wanted to hear; ie what I'm suppsed to do, but beauitful words of encouragement to not fear making wrong choices, to not be anxious, to take steps of faith. That God will use me and my gifts in whatever I choose to do.

It's painful when the shutters rise and I realise how I've been putting barriers up to hearing God through the idol of anxiety. Repentence is hard, but God is so gracious and loves to give generously of his wisdom and of his peace.

a bit of a journey

Well, It's over...My three years at Goldsmiths college have come to an end. whilst I am so pleased all the work is done, I am gutted. I have absolutely loved being at Goldsmiths, I have loved being a student. Even in the bleakest days I have never wanted it to be over or wanted to leave. I think that might be rare.

God has been so good, so faithful and so pateint these last 3 years. I can also say the same for Pod for this last term, though that might liken him to God and...er..yeah...anyway...

It seems like such a long time ago I moved into halls in New Cross, age 20. Even for that I am so grateful to God that I wasnt there at 18. In everything over the 3 years I can see God's hand leading and guiding, teaching and discipling, loving, caring, encouraging.

For the huge influence UCCF has had over the time here both through being part of CU, leading CU, loving CU - it being my family, and 121s with Esther Chilvers and Anna Mac, for Bib evang, Forum, Student Council, and just a big baptism in grace. Grace extended to me, grace taught to me, grace in it's application to all areas of life. Grace freeing me to enjoy all the good things God has given me. A freedom.

For some amazing friendships formed along the way mostly in my first year and now. And the bits in between; faithfulness through lonliness, through self-imposed lonliness and simply London lonliness.

For great oportunities to share the gospel through CU, with my housemates (who continue to break my heart), with randoms, tutors and lecturers. For the exciting, direct answers to prayer and prophetic, to the mundane day-in-day out relentless words that appear to go nowhere.

For my wonderful church that has taught me about community, taught me about loving others well, for loving the unloveable. For teaching me more of the carasmatic and keeping me safe. For being patient with me and teaching me of grace through their actions, their honesty, their lives.

For my brilliant degree that has increased my mind, given me a love for the untold stories, for opening my eyes to ways of seeing and knowing things that are grey. For coming to an understanding that their is no truth in lived expereince and not having to give up beliveing there is truth passe. For over the 3 years being able to pick through theory, to critique, to enjoy and to come out more in love with Jesus, despite seemingly anti-God ideas. For tutors and lecturers who have been inspiring and have listened to me, encouraged me and given me confidence in my ability.

For Pod; his love, his care and thoughfulness. His genuine desire to help me grow in grace and become more like Christ. His deisre to love me better. For his growth, for his perserverance and committment to the relationship through hard times. For his speed to repentence, his desire to love Jesus more and grow in the gospel. For all being with him has taught me about my selfishness and my inability to love well without miracles. For the fun, the knocking off rough edges, the chats, the tears, the laughs, the growth.

For a love of the martial arts and the communities and friendships that bought, for being able to use my body in ways I'd never thought I could.

For all these things and more I am so grateful to God. For a three years of stretching my mind, body and soul, for growing in grace and in the gospel. For bringing me through, for teaching me, for being patient, for bringing some amazing people into my life to speak the hard words, the soft words, to love and to care.

Grace and faithfulness.

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes my sorrows, heals my wounds,
And drives away my fear.

Dear Name, the Rock on which I build,
My Shield and Hiding Place,
My never failing treasury, filled
With boundless stores of grace!

the air is so much clearer here

Six weeks ago I surveyed the thousands of words in front of me and had a mild panic. In desperate need of miracles I prayed. 5 weeks later I have almost finished my degree and am astounded at the amount of words I have written. Being daunted opens up some space for God to break through my self assurance and remind me hes actually pretty good at the equipping thing. and hes also pretty good at the miracle thing.

Two weeks ago I surveyed the uncertainty of the coming year and had a mild panic. Feeling a sense of pressure to move to Nottingham and being so unsure of the wisdom of this and a real deep unhappiness at the thought, whilst not being sure of the way through. In desperate need of miracles I prayed. 5 hours later I came off the phone having heard Pod say 'I really don't feel at peace about a move for us yet and it would actually put more pressure on us to do so." Being in a mental block, not seeing viable options but needing one opens up space for God to break through and reveal he is the God of big ideas. I may naturally be an ideas person but he always has been and always will be the author of the great ones.

On Saturday I was voted in as chair of student council. I survey the responsibility this is and have a little panic. I don't feel I possess the wisdom and quick thinking this role requires. I need a miracle and will pray as such. Being daunted and lacking in wisdom opens up space to reveal himself as the author of all wisdom.

I still remain daunted by the prospect of loving Pod. of being self-sacrifical, of being patient and giving, of laying aside my needs for his. Of loving and forgiving in the way the gospel asks me to. It is possible to panic and in need of miracles, I pray every day to have a heart that is not my own, that loves in a way that the gospel requires. To love with a supernatual love. God has and always will be the author of perfect love.

Being daunted, having mild panics and needing miracles reminds me of my weakness, it reminds me of my need for God in a country and a time when it's easy to be self-sufficient.

After all I cannot even breathe without God giving it to me. Air. fresh air. life giving air. His air.

a little bit like nirvana

According to Ed (http://edsfalliblethoughts.blogspot.com) my blogs are like Nirvana's music. I rather like the comparisons he draws.

ED: "'inthesource' was like your Nevermind. Came from nowhere, hugely popular across a wide spectrum, much liked and deservedly so. except you were never in it for the fame. and you felt restricted by it, by people's expectations of what you would write and by the fact that so many people were watching you. you so went loy key and low-fi with 'lookatmyshells' just like In Utero. Stripped down, obscure a bit hidden. hoping you'd get your integrity back and peopel would judge yr art for who you are. and your legacy to the bloggin world is the 365, and your actual 365 is like the Nirvana b-sides and rarities. good to listen to, reminds you of the old days, nothing to judge"

I like how insightful this is. It pretty much sums up how I feel about my blogs.

I think I am also keenly aware of the self obsessive reflective ego centric society we live in and see blogs in once sense as an expression of that. THat's not to say blogs are necessarily bad but sociologically I find it slightly unnerving at times.

Still, like anything we can enjoy the wonder of God's creativity through man in technology and go forth and make art!

ally gordon and anna laird become mr and mrs gordon

a few select pics...

He is the same God.

"Great is your faithfulness Great is your faithfulness you never change, You never fail oh God."

Intellectually I understand and have always understood this to be true, but yesterday as I sung those words in church I realised that I wasnt really believing them, living them.

I realised that in the midst of millions of words to write in a few weeks that doesn't seem possible and the pressure of making a decision about next year that rests on so many things and many painful goodbyes no matter the decision. One way or the other september will bring tears. That doesn't always feel good, though I do know I am blessed to have options.

At the same time in this time of uncertainty and pressure I was reminded again that God is faithful. Not in a whimsical sort of way but in that He doesn't change. He is the same miracle working God today as He was at times when I led friends to him. He is the same miracle working God today as He was at time when I saw him heal friends, when I saw 'huge' answers to prayer. He is the same, He doesn't change.

I change, my life changes. He doesn't. He is still the same miracle working, faithful God who hears my cries. He is the same miracle working, faithful God who loves me, who delights in me and sings over me. He is the same miracle working, faithful God who requires of me to love mercy, act justly and walk humbly with him. No matter my circumstances, my fears, my anxities.

And with perspective it ceases to be about me. And I walk in peace and confidence.

This always happens. Blogging block.

When I first started blogging it was a way of creatively expressing my thoughts; sometimes trivial, sometimes important, mostly trivial. Or a verse, a song, a peice of writing, something that was meaningful. Then everyone started blogigng and I think I got overwhelmed by the potential and also the formula. Some people write about their day, some people write about God, some people cover up the crap and talk about the good, some people just write whatever. I never know what to do.

Not becuase I haven't got stuff I could say but writing it down, putting it out there is like saying "hey world, you should read this." I feel slightly arrogant. I also feel a sense of the fear of man; wanting to write something well, or interesting or positive or that makes me look great is always a temptation. I don't want to be fake but I also don't want to be 'real' for the sake of being 'real'.

It was why I ended my last blog becuase so many people read it and I felt I was putting on a show, too concerned about how people would think about me through my blog. Both the good and the bad. I didn't want to edit to encourage fear of man in myself. I long only to fear God.

And so I get bloggers block.

"Dear Becci Brown, you will probably be feeling better by the time you get this but I thought it would be a nice gesture anyway. Sorry you're feeling rough but do know that i love and that I am praying for you

Also i know the future isnt always clear but we can have FULL confidence in the Living God who DOES know what the future holds (Luke 12:24-25) Praying that you will have a productive week celebrating your salvation in all you do! Lots of Love Podbo.xx

carrying home gold

The sun is setting overhead
I've been racing since I got out of bed
The moon is peaking through the sky
Reminding me time likes to fly
It keeps me deep within the thought
That I can't bottle days
And can't slow down the clock
And it makes me want to hold more dear
Every moment I have here

So whatever I do
Whatever I say
May it all be for your glory
And all be for your praise
Whatever is pure
Whatever is true
And everything that's holy
Let it shine through
Whatever I do

The good life will soon be gone
Quicker than a vapour carries on
And the only things I'll carry home
Are silver, gold and precious stone.

regents park on a sunny saturday

Mind The Gap

“A consciousness associated with the soul is more relaxed, less intentionalized than a consciousness associated with the phenomena of the mind. Forces are manifested in poems that do not pass through the circuits of knowledge.” (Bachelard, 1958:xxi)

The pages stir, flicker and flip. There’s a breeze that inches it’s way past, over, round and through. There’s a deep whisper of a rumbling emerging and gathering volume, velocity and vroom, clatter and bang.

The doors slide and click. Stand back, hold yourself in, tuck in your hands, your feet, but edge, edge, edge. You dance with them, you rhythmically jostle with them until they’re past and you’re through; through and on.

“Excuse me, sorry….Can you move down please?” Hurdle that barrier? Crash through them? Ease round them? Will you speak, will you push? Nestle in, under an armpit, touch a leg. Hold your breath, bow your head and pray to the god of good hygiene.

Don’t look, don’t speak, don’t smile; your eyes are your final frontier. Listen to your music, read a book; nustle and edge; try to extend your boundaries, or give in, accept, relax; make yourself alarmingly cosy and disembody.

One gets off, two, three, weaving, dodging “excuse me, sorry”. Move casually, slowly to extend new boundaries, new rules, new norms. But don’t be naïve; never fixed, never certain. Regulate and watch yourself watching others watching you.

A seat vacated, draw your bag close; it is you. Sit; it’s warming, affecting, mixing. You’re not you and you alone. Your bag, your book, your iPod, the arm rail, and you; create a corner, steal away, dream.

Listen to them talking; American, Chinese, Italian, the student, the business woman, the tourist, the child, the old man and you. Whispering, as in the library, shouting as if alone, jabbering, animating, questioning, suggesting, and every nuance in between. The whole world on you, beside you, around you.

Watch them pouring off, create spaces, extending yours. Will you relocate to the emptiness, away from your neighbour, risk causing offence? How much is it worth? Do you need it? Why? Stay, stare ahead, stare around to anywhere but, Them.

Need new teeth? Afraid of going bald? Need a career change, to study, to do the worthwhile? Or just need to gorge on ice-cream? Informing, commanding, exposing. Give us your money, your time; you need us. Don’t linger, look too long, They’ll think you’re looking at Them.

Sandwiched between the bibles for today, the map; functional, modern, a scientific artwork of navigation but don’t be fooled, taken in, it lies, deceives, whispers dreams of transports speed. Sometimes, trust your legs, walk the walk and Mind The Gap.

But what about the irregular; A jostle, a touch, a push? A beggar asking you, a drunk sleeping on you, a loud chatty lady invading you? From rush hour to empty, above ground, below ground, histories, stories, patterns and shapes. Shifting, changing, moving space. Never constant, never the same, this strange phenomena, this, ‘The Underground’.

buisness as usual

It's pretty much business as usual here in Peckham. The murders haven't changed much.

There's always a police car speeding or the wail of a siren somewhere near or far. Most nights, helicopters. Lock your windows, lock your doors.

Walking home after dark you get used to looking over your shoulder, walking fast, clenching fists, the beat of a heart.

There's always the guys, smiling, jeering, trying to get attention. You get used to being a peice of meat.

And there's always a man peeing up the side of the telephone box at the end of my road.

There's the kids hanging out two doors down sitting on walls. Always. Hoods up when it rains. Hoods up when it shines. It's only the media that demonise.

There is more fear in Peckham now, and there have been tears. Tears mingling with the pee of the men at the telephone box.

There is high levels of poverty. The highest paid earner at my church is a charity worker and many don't know where next month's rent will come from.

One night last week there were two 'bangs' so loud our house shook and the front door broke. Our house. On the left live a family who frequently scream at each other. They have ripening plantain on a table.

The right is enhabited by a interior design couple, new money.


They're pulling down the Wood Dene estate, where the woman was murdered at the christening. They locked the guy up this week.There's a hughe purple sign on the front of it:
"New homes coming soon." HOMES not HOUSES.

The food shops are as varied as a trip around the world and there's more afro shops and hairdressers than, well, whatever my hair is called. And there's a primark.

The arts scene floruishes in the form of two funky bars, a gallery and the railway arch art studios. Rentable for a couple a hundred a month.

The local library is to be found in any book on postmodern architecture or funky designs. And Monday films at the cinema are £2.99

My local shopkeeps say hello, they give me discounts, they give me freebies.


I wouldn't live anywhere else. It's not because people are poor and needy that I live here (though everytime I step out my door I am reminded how much I have. Its a call to thankfulness and generosity)

It's not that somehow people need Jesus more, or somehow I am more godly for living in a part of London that the rest of the UK despises. That would be some form of post-colonialism and I'm not into that. Everyone needs Jesus.

I live here because it is vibrant. It's a district of multiple personalities. There is alot of fear and many people desperately want to leave Peckham. Especially those with kids. I can't big it up to be something that it's not. That would be insenstive.

But I love peckham, my church loves peckham. And we just have to keep praying for Peckham and it's people.

Meanwhile, it's business as usual.

The London Underground Escalator

It’s like a fine dance - embarking on the Underground escalator. The steady whir and click of the metallic steps slipping under the solid floor provides musical accompaniment, inviting me to embody its beat; whir, click, step. Whir, click…STEP.

I am on my way to someplace else, transported by a vortex of fake, sticky aired, non-place. Metal structures reflecting modern functionism, with subtle touches of fantastical science fiction, encircle above and beneath.

Signs commanding me to ‘stand on the right’ and ‘no smoking’ sit a top the central reservation like the poking of a crocodile’s head from its watery home. I hold myself ‘to the right’ in this Goffman paradise where all travellers do the same, save for the burning thighs of the busy few. But don’t stop on the left, break the rules; you’ll be ‘insane’. Rush by; careful not to touch, to blend, to affect.

A red square invites me tantalisingly to press in an emergency to ‘stop’ this process. Its rules, which in breaking have a tumultuous effect, bring out the rebellious, the teenagers who dare. Playing, joking, kissing.

I am lost in a function, another product on the conveyer belt to be moved to a destination. There’s a place for each part of my body; hands and feet catered for. At my feet I feel a play of bristling hairs. Jamming my right-hand shoe into them I wonder whether they’ll polish and shine or eject the dirt of the atmosphere. I imagine the experience of trapped shoelaces and move my foot away.

Mind wandering, engagement unnecessary, I suddenly realise I’m tilting forwards, my hand rising on it’s holding conveyor at a faster pace than my feet. Shuffling my hand downwards, I’m drawn out of my dream back into the function, the vortex, the science.

At regular intervals to my left, screens demand my vision to shift from front facing. Bright bold colours juxtapose the consistent silver Underground standard, moving and dancing in a dizzy like fashion. Angled perfectly for maximum viewing, yet what is that? Are they upright or leaning? A confusion of space, proxemics, degrees.

The adverts roll through on a loop slower than my bodily motion up the tunnel. My eyes flick from screen to screen; catching the end of one, the beginning of another; there’s no possibility to stop and stare. An accumulation of images requires my imagination to rustle through; picking, choosing, making sense.

Increasing advertising space opens up possibilities, addresses the consumer, confuses the consumer. Makes the consumer feel giddy.

This ritual, the ‘on’ and the ‘off’, becomes an urgent situation at the top. Have I embodied the rhythm effectively or will I prove myself impermeable to such a dance, resulting in my shame? Catch the beat, concentrate, hold it; whir, click, step. Whir, click….STEP.

Knowing the terror of the Lord should drive you to your knees. When you see the lost, plead with God for them. Be like Christ--"Forgive them for they know not what they do." - Desiring God Blog

happy valentines

How easy it is to look in the wrong places. To see ourselves with needs, psychological needs, as love cups that need filling. With expectations placed on others to fix us, to bring us all that we need we will always be dissapointed and we will always live in selfishness and shame.

Our need is not for other people. But to rightly understand God and how he sees us. To fear him; his holiness his awesomeness. And fall in love with his purity, his mercy, his grace.

Our need is to understand that we exist for God's glory and our relationships are to bring glory and to build his church. There is also great pleasure in loving and being loved. And that is delightful.

Also, how often, whilst accepting that when we come to Jesus we may not get rich materially, simulataneously expect that Jesus will make us emotionally well and happy by our undertsanding of 'how amazing God thinks we are'. There is a real flaw in that method We need that 'pyschological need' for approval smashed by the message of the gospel.

"When the cup of psychological needs is being smashed, one of our remainsing shapes is a cup. This cup is not, however, a cup that says "Jesus make me happy," or "Jesus make me feel better about myself." It is a cup that simply says, "I need Jesus. I am a spiritual beggar who cannpt pray, obey, or even have physical life apart from the love of Christ." "I am dead apart from Christ, and I need his grace every moment." For these needs Jesus pours out his love to such an extent that it is impossible for any one person to contain it.

We nedd to be a corporate body, smitten with the glory of God, committed to the unity of the church, deluged by his love, and faithful as we walk togeher in obedience to him, even in our suffering. We need to need other people less and love other people more." (E.T. Welch)

for my four readers. score.

Your Name:
My name:
Summarize me in three words:
Where did we meet:
Take a stab at my middle name:
How long have you known me:
When is the last time that we saw each other:
Do I drink?:
Do I smoke:
Am I happy:
Am I a good person:
What was your first impression of upon meeting me/seeing me:
What's one of my favorite things to do:
Am I funny:
How do you make me smile:
What's my favorite type of music:
Have you ever seen me cry:
Can I sing?:
What is the best feature about me:
Am I shy or outgoing:
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
Do I have any special talents:
Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else (what):
I'm hot? Am I not? Go ahead, you can say ... : dancing. Probably.
Have you ever hugged me:
Kissed me?:
What is my favorite food:
Have you ever had a crush on me:
Am I dating anyone:
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
What's your favorite memory of me:
Who do I like right now:
What is my worst habit:
If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what is the one thing I would bring?
Are we friends:
Do you want us to be more than friends?
Do I believe in God?
Am I family oriented?
Who is my best friend? Will you repost this so I can do it?

your wants desires needs and wishes will be duly noted

The question is, am i being irrational? Are my expectations too high? I frequently find myself asking this question in a situation where I feel irritated or hurt and I just don't know if I have expected too much of the person. I have 'needed' their love more than I should.

I am reading 'When people are big and God is small' at the moment and it's excellent. It addresses this issue of needs and desires, wants and expectations; when people becme too big in our worlds and God becomes small. When we start to need people rather than just desire relationship and use it to encourage godliness and bring glory to God through it.

Bringing glory to God. Even that desire is so mixed. When i 'desire' to bring glory to God how much of that is more from a selfish ambition that i know that when i do so i will be most satisfied? And actually God's glory isn't my top priority. Or is all that an oxymoron?

Whatever the case is, I know i frequently need people too much. I fear them and I don't fear God. I am selfish with my relationships expecting people to do things for me, and even in my acts of generosity with time and money, i expect others to return those favours with love and appreciation, or indeed the same kind of generosity when I am in need.

The question is, what does it look like to cultivate healthy, God-honouring relationships? I don't just create relationships with the express aim of bringing glory to God and loving that person. There surely is a sense that for it to be healthy it has to be two way. How much to expect therefore? And how much to let go? When am in my rights to say I don't think I am being cared for that well? Am i ever in my rights to do so?

Tricky.

thats a lot of massacres in a week

So two nights after seeing 'The Last Kind of Scotland' I went to see 'Blood Diamond'. From the evil dictatorship of Amin in Uganda to the killing fields of Sierra Leone over diamond trade. That's a lot of sin viewing, stomach churning, children killing action in a week. Mo has blogged about the film and his words echo my thoughts with extra Biblical clarity:

"However, I do generally find that films like this which graphically show us people doing terrible things to each other make me have existential crises of a sort. How CAN God let evil terrorist groups seeking their own wealth chop children's arms off to make their political point? How CAN people be that evil, and we still claim God is sovereign over it? I guess I'd be a rubbish Christian (or, an even more rubbish Christian) in a war zone.

Interestingly the day after (after, if I'm honest, not sleeping very well thinking about children being deliberately maimed in wars) I beetled off to Wales to do a team day on Malachi.

Now, Malachi is all about people who are going through the motions of being God's people but not with their whole hearts, and so God is pretty angry.
As you go through the book it appears one of the reasons that they are like that is because they don't believe that God is against the wicked. The evil prosper. Which is one of the reasons that I guess I'd doubt God a lot more if I had to witness real obvious evil outside of my middle class cocoon.
What's interesting about Malachi is that having those questions under the surface and allowing them to filter the way you serve God is disastrous. Don't trust God's love and promises? You won't really want to serve God whole heartedly. Don't think God cares about justice and honesty? You won't be just or honest. Don' t think God can really be trusted to run the world? You won't entrust him with your money or life.

So how does God answer? Well, pretty complicatedly. But he says, I will judge and I will purify. Evil WILL be dealt with, by my purifying judging messenger. The cross, basically is all we can look at and hold on to to believe God really is committed to judging fairly. I suppose, post-cross, I have more reason to believe that even than Malachi's hearers, who hadn't seen God's demonstration of justice and probably saw worse atrocities in real life than I'll ever see on screen. But God says it is enough, in fact, to say otherwise is to be "harsh against him".

I guess I can't just let my worries about justice and my sick stomach at child soldiers round the world just bubble below the surface until they suck the life out of my service of God. I have to stake the heart of those questions with a big wooden cross, and be as committed to justice as God is. And trust him with the rest because he is God, and has proved that he will deal with sin by judging and purifying.

Blood Diamond insists, despite all the evidence in the film to the contrary, that bad people can turn good. I'd rather place my faith in God who has gone out of his way to prove his justice. I pray I can hold on to that cross, standing their, cutting history in two when I'm seeing it and experiencing it away from the cinema. It's hard though".

bah.

Sometimes though I am left asking the question, "is the sacrifice just too high?"

walk this way

They say that when a door shuts, a window opens. My house has lots of doors, shut doors and seemingly no windows.

There's something demoralising about that. Today I was approached by one of the full-time student union officers and asked to run for one of the positions. What a priviledge. Stroking my ego as we speak. But I can't if I want to stay with Pod. And slam, a door shuts.

But it's ok...whilst I fight feeling demoralised I actually do feel at peace. For, as Pod said "Doors shutting is just God's way of caring for us, as hard as it feels." And he's right. I think.

At the end of the day what does it matter? What does it matter what I do in September? What I do with the rest of my life provided I am gospel hearted and passionate for Jesus; living and speaking for him, being generous with what I have and giving to those in need.

"This is what I require of you, declares the Lord, to love mercy, act justly and walk humbly before your God."

I have a giant window open and the air is blowing freely in. It's called being a son of God.

it really is as shit as romans says

The world really is as bad as Romans says it is. Sometimes, in my quiet little middle class life it's easy to forget the disgusting abhorence of sin can and does produce.

Last night I saw "The Last King of Scotland" and it was shocking. What were my fellow cinema goers feeling as they walked out? What do they do with the emotion they feel when confronted with the horrors of sin? Get angry at the government? Feel self-righteous? Eventually shrug it off and bury themselves in life? Go out to another country and in an act of post-colonialism (?) 'make a difference'?

But what, if all we can do is just say "yep, sin in the world really does make it that shit. Oh how we need Jesus."

The film made me believe the gospel more. It left me with 3 responses - a call to worship God for his mercy and jusitce, a call to proclaim the judegment of sin and the wonder of forgiveness and finally, get off my arse and engage more in both finding out, praying for and being generous in world affairs.

peek-a-boo

Here I am again in a new place and new time. I wonder how long it will be before I am so discovered I bail again? I like it here in this time when noone knows and noone sees because I don't buy into ideas of the self I would like others to see and so deceive myself. My heart is deceitful, it is deeply black and how tempting it is to cover up and put on a show.