My heartbeat

I am a passionate lover of people. Once, when asked in an interview what my greatest strength was, I answered, unashamedly: ‘people’- to the surprise of the serious-faced corporate person across from me. Thankfully she did allow me to elaborate on my answer, and because it was a heartfelt, genuine answer, she bought into it!

I do very much love people. ALL people. I love speaking to the cashier at the supermarket and asking her about her day; I like talking to the lady (or gentleman) sat next to me on the bus, I like smiling at babies and generally always start a conversation with their mums and find out how old their wonderful treasures are, which then leads to questions about their sleep patterns and eventually birth stories.

I guess it helps that I am also incredibly nosy; I hate not being in the know about anything. But I am genuinely interested in everyone’s stories, much to the chagrin of my introverted husband (sorry babe! #notsorry)

As a child, I was always tuned in to conversations that I wasn’t supposed to be listening to; and my parents found this quality about me incredibly dangerous. If they were sharing any information of great importance or secret, I would be listening. And as a child, I generally used to then repeat said confidential information! Not good for a couple who were regularly entrusted with most of their congregation’s secrets!

Growing up, this gift to listen and to be interested opened a lot of doors for me; but it wasn’t always my favourite thing about myself. Sometimes i’d really want to connect with someone. And the best way for me to do that is generally to ask a LOT of questions. And occasionally, people would misinterpret my interest for something not kind. As an interrogation, or as nosiness-and as they’d reject my friendship, this would really hurt. But each and every time, I would always get right back in, talking to people again- because it is my heartbeat.

Someone asked me once how I relax after a long and busy day; yesterday was a long and busy day.

I had spent the morning  with OFSTED and being observed  teaching at College , after picking up my son and dropping him off at home to my tooth-achy husband,  I left for my second (the best in the world )job in the afternoon showing some visitors from Swansea around some projects that we work with in Manchester.

After dropping them off at their accommodation for the night I headed home to eat dinner, spend time with my children and husband and collapse on the sofa with a cup of tea, right? wrong!

After food, I realised that we had a parenting course that I had forgotten about but could cancel- but I am energised BY people. So the thought of giving up an evening of connecting with a new group of parents and exchanging anecdotes about the struggles of parenting was just too much of a temptation for me. So at 7pm, I was back in my car for the fourth time, heading out. To connect. With people. People. My strength. My weakness. My heartbeat.

There are times when I have quite frankly felt like I had nothing to give. Especially when i’m surrounded by people with incredible gifts- people who can sing, dance, people who are incredibly artistic, driven, organised, and efficient. I can quite honestly say that I have never felt efficient.  or organised. The only thing I have ever really felt good at, was talking to people. Little did I know that this was the stick that God had given me that later, He would turn into a staff.

Today, I had the privilege of asking my Swansea visitors what their heartbeat was. It isn’t an easy question to answer. But they both knew what truly makes their heart beat. That thing that makes them feel alive. That makes them feel like they could stay up longer because of it. And when they naturally reversed the question, I didn’t have to think about it- I already knew. Because from a very young age, I have always loved being with people. talking with people. Hearing their stories. Making connections. And that, honestly, makes my heart beat.

What is yours?

 

Exodus 4: 2-3

Then the Lord said to him, “What is that in your hand?”

“A staff,” he replied.

The Lord said, “Throw it on the ground.”

 

Sweet and Sour

Tags

2Timothy 1:7, bible, blessing, god, grandad, jesus, lord, praise, psalm, sour, Sweet, testimony, uplifting, women, worship

My granddad used to sing a popular hymn all the time when I was growing up; a wonderful old song by Johnson Otman Jr, written in 1897. It goes a little like this:

Count your blessings, name them one by one,
Count your blessings, see what God has done!
Count your blessings, name them one by one,
*Count your many blessings, see what God has done.
[*And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.]

To this date, it is one of the most prominent memories of him and whenever I think about him, I always see him in my mind’s eye, singing that song. It is a really strange thing to remember- especially as my granddad was not known for being particularly cheerful. Today as I was reflecting on my year I realised the scales had tipped a lot in the wrong favour. At first glance, it is easy to think that this year has been very bad for us. Over the last few months, in the cloud of awful events, it has taken everything in me not to tar this year with that very same brush as though the whole thing was simply spoilt by a few terrible and unfortunate turn of events.

But tonight, while I wrote about a particularly painful chapter on my journey in the search for home, I wanted to tip the scales in the right favour again. This year has been wonderful. 5 years ago, I joined with my beautiful Spiritual mum to begin praying for my husband’s career. This June, my husband landed the job of his dreams on a journey to the career that lights his heart with excitement. A promise fulfilled. In March, God connected me with a wonderful group of people that freed me to dream and think and be, while all the while financially supporting me to pursue my goals. In April this year, my feet touched the soil of Africa for the first time in over 15 years. In August, we received a financial gift that meant that we could buy ourselves a beautiful new car. As I type this, my wonderful daughter has recently learnt the power of Spiritual Warfare and had to date memorised 6 Key verses that help her when she is feeling weak. My most favourite one so far is hearing her recite 2 Timothy 1:7 to herself whenever she wakes up from a nightmare.

And that is NOT even half of what the Lord has done.  While I don’t know what always made my granddad sing this song particularly, I now know that it must have been from a place of knowing how powerful praise is in helping us defeat the pain of what surrounds. One thing is for sure, the more granddad thanked God for his blessings, the more blessings he got. So I am thankful for him and for subconsciously teaching me one of life’s greatest lessons.

Tonight I realise anew how blessed I am. And I don’t want to let a moment pass by before I thank my Father in heaven for looking out for me, day in and day out.

And this is especially true when things are sweet and when things are sour. I have a lot that I could be upset about. But tonight, I chose the power of praise. Because as my friend Becky Aladiran so beautifully sings in one of my favourite songs, ‘My praise is a weapon’. And I choose to raise it up.

Psalm 34:1-8

I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.
O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.
I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.
They looked unto him, and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed.
This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.
O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.