What's Love Got to do with it?

What if we've missed the point? What if Love Wins is enough? And why Rob Bell may just be right.

Right On our doorstep

Think that slavery is a thing of the past? Think that the UK is too civilised to be part of trafficking? Think again

5 reasons why being married to Brit is great (or 5 reasons to marry an American)

5 things you will never know until you marry an American

Masturbation Month

Giving up masturbation for a month. Why we need to save the kittens.

XXXchurch! Whaaa?

Why I love porn (ministries).

23 Oct 2011

For The Freaks

 One of the questions I ask myself before I write anything is ‘what will other people think of this?’ ‘Will they like it?’ ‘Will they think it is stupid?’ ‘Will I come across in a bad light?’

These are all the wrong questions to ask.

These won’t help me be honest and they certainly won’t help me become a better writer.

Should anyone?

During the last few weeks when I was in counseling a lot of things came up that I realized were affecting the way I lived. An incident from my childhood was triggered in my memory that I am still peeling away the layers of.

To cut a long story short, I discovered that this memory had affected me in so many ways but mainly it had helped me create a filter for most of my life where I was scared of what people would think of me.

This is apparent in the way I am sometimes afraid of giving my opinion. It’s obvious in how I don’t stand up for something that is wrong in case the person who has committed the wrong thinks poorly of me. It’s clear in how I won’t initiate conversations because I think people would rather not talk to me.

One of the breakthroughs for me in this has been realizing that I can’t control what people think. I can’t determine their response to me. And slowly I am starting to believe it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter what they think because they are flawed like me. I have believe the lie that I don’t have worth compared to other people. But that is wrong and if I have as much worth as anyone then I am entitled to be part of things. I am entitled to be included.

Which all begs another question.

Where do we find our worth?

For years I thought I got it from Jesus. 

But I didn’t. 

I got it from being a Christian. This if you know some Christians, probably isn’t a great way of gaining self worth. 

But one of the things that following Jesus is supposed to elicit in our lives is openness to forgiveness. A freedom to be real with God and others. I’m scared to be myself because I have possibly not truly grasped that His love for me is enough. I’m afraid because I don’t really believe that His sacrifice for me is sufficient for me to show who I really am and for during those times when I screw up (which I will), it be alright. 

I have put my faith in myself. In other people.

And where has that got me? Where has that got any of us?

When I put my faith in making sure I look good to others I will naturally fall short because they are imperfect too.

Being a follower of Jesus means having the freedom to live. That’s what he really came for. So we can truly live now. If I don’t do that then I don’t really understand that when Jesus died he died so I could be free from the fear of screwing up. He died so that I could really understand how genuine freedom is in not being afraid of being a freak or wrong or looking stupid.

But that real freedom is knowing we are a freak and wrong and sometimes look stupid….and that, that is good. Because our trust is in something much better.

You and I were created in God’s image. Not someone else’s or the false one we have come to believe about ourselves. 

Join me in starting to believe that today. 

Join me in being a freak.

21 Oct 2011

Showing Up

I have been staring at a blank page for a couple of hours now trying to muster up some words, any words, they don't even have to be that coherent.

But alas I have failed in my task. My masterpiece has alluded me today. My Pulitzer winning piece did not materialise.

But... I DID show up. I came prepared to do the work.

And tomorrow morning I will show up again. And maybe no words will appear again. But I have to believe they will.

But even if not, I will show up the next day, and then the next, and then the next....

So show up today. Then tomorrow.

Be prepared to work for your art.

But don't worry if you fail.

It will come.

As long as you show keep showing up....

Your art will show up.

20 Oct 2011


I read some advice at the weekend about not writing while you are angry.

This doesn’t sound like good advice to me. If one doesn’t write while they are angry should we resist from writing when we are sad, depressed, melancholic or joyous? It seems to me the best art comes from a myriad of emotions.

I haven’t written on my blog for a long while. Very sporadically actually but recently when I have sat down to write I seem to be always drawn back to creativity or thoughts on why we sit and muster up images, words or semitones in our head and I have come to the simple conclusion on why millions of us do this on a daily basis.

Because you need to.

You don’t really have a choice.

You need to create new things. You need to continue to explore the endless possibilities that art holds. 

You wake up and if you don’t sing at some point during the day you feel like you will explode.

Or if you don’t write you will continue to suppress the thoughts that could change the world.

Not creating is killing you.

When you feel like that, you are creative and you should do something about it. Namely create.

That’s why some bands struggle with the difficult second album syndrome. They have created something successful the first time around and so they try to recreate it. While they should really be focusing on creating something new and fresh. They aren’t really creating at all.

That’s why some pastors leave their churches to make tv shows in Hollywood. It’s not that they don’t care about or regret their previous existence. They just need to explore the side that, and let’s not forget this, God handed them.

And that’s why I sit here slightly pissed off at myself. Pissed off that I haven’t been doing that. Not moving to Hollywood. 

But creating. 

If being pissed off means that I, and all of us, let go and come out with our voice and our song and change the world and help someone, then I say better to be angry and create than happy and not follow who you are. 

Because ultimately, even if it is painful, creating will satisfy you.

Isn’t that something we should get angry about?


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