Wednesday 9 December 2009

Who Knows?

A psalm. (like off of the bible, you know)

Who knows?

Who sees the troubles untold?

Who is it that sees if I wander far from the road, if I’m losing control, not feeding my soul?

Who knows?

Can apathy help me lose my way?

Or, can complacency lead me astray?

Or, lack of time and peace of mind or any distraction of any kind,

Change the way, that I walk today?

Can I run from you?

Can I escape you view?

Can the highest mountain or deepest valley, the darkest shadow or grimiest ally, Keep me, from you?

Surely you know!

Sometimes I don’t even have to say, coz you aware of the untold

And when I’m worried and lost and strayed a lot, counted the cost

You know, coz

With you very hands you laid the road

When I’m lost, you’re the way

When I lose control, your the same

When I’m lost in time, feeling like I lost my mind

You have calming words to say.

“come to me”

“I grant you reat”

“Let me take all of your stuff, and hear, Just, Rest!”

And all I can be is blessed

Amazed at the concept

That among the mess

Among all my distress

You remain

So

I just have the simplest request

To stay Here,

In you presence

In awe and total reverence

In all situation

I’m left safe in the knowledge of this

That Dry bones CAN live

That in THIS life we WILL see this

That your refuge gives the strength we need

And that your hope is what we seek

And your gift of life is evident in me!

Thank you, from the depths of my soul

More than I can say

Not nearly as much as I owe

But thank you

Because

It’s you who knows.

Amen

Monday 7 December 2009

lets take a walk

Take a walk with me if you will

To where the trees sway in the breeze at the top of the hill

At 7 years old I got plenty time to kill

And Pops, he’s found a space in his busy schedule, to teach a new skill

He’s got with him, covered in Denis the Menace black and red stripes

A brand new, shiny kite

A look of hope in his eyes and a promise of flight

But try

Hard as I might, I just can’t see how?

There’s no one to hold it, no one to control it

No arms can be long enough to reach up there and hold it

High in the sky to give an impression of flight

At 7 I trust my dad right, but I’ve got questions

Then,

he takes hold of my cold little hand

And

With all the confidence he can

He stands

Fearless, unwavoured and calm

These are the words he teaches me

“Just coz you can’t see the wind son, doesn’t mean it’s not there”

Look

The way the trees sway, the way the birds play

The way your hairs not quite as tidy as it was yesterday

Trust me!

It’s there

So with the childlike confidence I have in his unrelenting smile and stare

Right there

I believe

At the top of the hill we unwind the string

Anticipation begins, to bubble within

“come on man, let’s just fly this thing”

“Hold on son, just listen”

He carefully talks me through the procedure with care and attention

But Il be honest, it’s not really keeping my attention

I not really listening I just wanna see

This kite flying high in the sky

I feel the wind and I don’t know why

But I

Believe

I believe what it is that he’s telling me

I guess I might have a few reservations

But I trust this guy with no hesitations

So now doubt doesn’t even, get a mention

I’m just griped with the feeling of anticipation

“You run, I’ll hold the string”

“Let’s see if we can’t fly this thing”

3,2,1 and I’m off

No time lost

The wind’s blowing in my face, but I’m shrugging it off

I release my grip at the instructed second

Then

To my complete amazement

We have lift off

Was there ever any doubt?

I’d like to think not

but maybe?

But

how blessed is he?

He who believes?

Before he see’s?

Thank you pops for lessons like these

God thank you I can see you even in the afternoon breeze

I’m taken back to hazy memories of cold afternoons in high up places

That fade all too quickly

But I never lose the breeze

It helps me to believe

It keeps me flying

Gracefully

Faithfully

Blessed, I believe.

Sunday 29 November 2009

set foot ta walk the still darkened streets

One Night, 6 transit mans dem, One God, 6 pieces of paper, endless lives, lost searching, waiting.........



Set foot ta walk the still darkened streets

The cold and dark of night immediately consume me

Yet we walk, faithfully. Excited but nervously, but about all expectantly

Te recount the events that have just happened

You can’t even imagine, ya see

There’s gold in them there streets. You have to look hard but trust me,

If you listen hard enough you’ll see,

Believe me

Walk with me

And simply

Begin to let go

Of all the thing you think you know

The way you assume it should go

The same old same old standard way you roll

Let him take control

This is the new way ta roll

Don’t worry bout the dark

Don’t worry about the cold

Don’t worry bout the time of night or any type of dress code

Just prepare yourself for your mind to be blow,

We meet this boy out on road

And this is how his story gets told

“You were on that bench, Your wearing white and blue, You’ve got a baseball cap on, Son, Gods been looking for you”

“You were on that bench, Your wearing white and blue, You’ve got a baseball cap on, Son, Gods been looking for you”

Pause and consider,

Let these words linger

See what it does to your head as you begin to try and figure

“NA BRUV I’m GONE, NA THATS TOO MUCH IM GONE” “Let me see that again” “NA BRUV IM GONE”

He runs off into the night, griped by amazement at the incite,

And he thinks hard with all of his might

That this night

Maybe there just might

Be someone out there,

Someone who actually cares

Then 5 minutes later he re-appears

5 more boys on tow to witness

The utter mystery of this

“Boys come see this, come here and see this”

“Gods stalking me, come see, God, is stalking me”

Ah youngster if only you knew

If only you could understand the passion and intensity in which the living God is actively this moment, pursuing you.

The night advances,

To many odd glances at the introductions of “this might seem a bit weird...”

But in amazement we stand back and witness the way in which the path is clear

By the watering hole, the brave new face of prayer is met head on by the harsh realties of life

The hands it deals the wrongs that don’t seem in line with the rights

And in the midst of what could have been the darkest of nights

In the face of oppression and so close to a fight

A peace flows and the knowledge is evident of some kind of safety in the light

And then, right there

In amongst the brokenness and stares

Is the opening of hearts, the sharing of burdens often too big to share

And right there in the midst of despair,

Someone else pauses to consider

If there might, but someone out there

At one point they didn’t care

Or if they did it got lost in a life of despair

But when its presented on paper so raw and clear

Is it possible there’s some kind of light, amongst the darkness out there?

Is there, maybe, someone out there?

Flash forward to 5am on a park bench, away from the noise of all of them

The darkest sky begins to break

And there’s the sense of a light coming that keeps me fixed on that bench

Considering the night

And the way the story went

The events

I couldn’t even begin to invent

But I’m struck with the realisation that its not all good

And there still is night

A guy I know fought bravely on the wrong side of right on these same streets this same night

And under this same sky I guy I know was arrested tonight

There’s still dark, and the shadows still will gather

And the reality is that all of this still matters

And the sun is rising and its beautiful believe

But, there’s plenty more dark nights that will follow these

We thought we had compassion on these streets

But this night out horizons were blown by how much our God is actively pursuing every single one of these

And how a heart so big we cant even understand, sheds broken heartfelt tears, for each of these

And on that bench Im taken away

To all the different places I’ve been to and returned by that day

From the slums of Gjkova where no one wants ya

To the Dalmatian coast where you have to wonder,

How God could ever be denied

To the eyes of a grown man when he cries

From the persecuted solider on the streets of kosova

To the homeless man who’s begging to start over

From the days of old and stories of Passover

To a sacrifice of grace, that leads, to life

All the pieces of the puzzle seem to come together in the emergence of light

On my knees in the park, in reverence and fear

Having seen all these things and been brought back here

From place to place and stories I hold dear

On my knees I confess “I will worship you here”

From the mountains of beauty to the streets of despair.

From the homes with enough to the tables with nothing to spare

I cant even begin to imagine, let alone answer the questions out there

But I commit to stand and l say “my God, I will worship you here”

And Ill try to understand the issues and become more aware

Be a friend to the broken standing right there

I’m nervous, self-conscious, unsure and flippin scared

But through it all my God, I will worship you here

I’m nervous, self-conscious, unsure and flippin scared

But through it all, my God, I will worship you here

Wednesday 25 November 2009

“I’m talking bout the science of social depravation” Skinnyman

So I didn’t do too well at school, I was the class clown, I just liked making people laugh. I can’t read and write too good so I couldn’t get on. I get board, I got a job in my last year of school, money in ya pocket, a little to help ya mum out, enough for beer at the weekend and it’sall good. But, it means I didn’t do so many exams and that means I aint got qualifications. I lost that job (I was too young to work), I’m not a master mind but I’ll work hard, this just means I’ll do the jobs no one else wants to do, “Ill give you a one’a to do over that...” you know the drill. My Brother just had a kid, he lives in the next road, my little brother’s just out on bail. I’ve got a record as long as my arm and more. If something goes on in this town the police ask me about it (coz to be fair I’m usually in it) My dads sick, seriously. The best job I had was Selling drugs, but for some reason it felt wrong so I stopped. My mum works hard but its tuff with two boys right? my mum and dad don’t live together.
I just wanna work, but I can’t get a chance, I’ve got no qualifications and no experience so I can’t get a chance, I can’t get a break.Im stuck. Everyone want to take the piss out of me, mug me off and I won’t let em, so, I get them before they get me. It’s a f#### up existence, but wot chance have i got.


This guy came to my house for tea today. I wanna just give him a hug and tell him life’s not all bad, but in his situation it is. What hope is there, what chances are there? I just wanna give him a job create opportunities, he’s my friend and it hurts to whiteness the cycle of a social class system that says unless you tick these boxes we don’t care about you. I wanna go to the government and say “this is a good guy, his family are good people, they just got lost and need some help on the way back, Come on, surly there help for these guys” I wanna step in and stop this cycle, bring about a change if I don’t who will? And in 20 years will the next generation of this family telling the same old tale?

I don’t know where to start. I guess, awareness relationship and prayer and action. But the challenge is big. The cost is high, the price might be more than I have but the result. The result is life.

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." Mathew 11 : 28 the message

Saturday 31 October 2009

Healing?????

‘I believe your my healer’.
‘with the following instructions, ....heal the sick, raise the dead, clense those who have leprosy, drive out demons...’

Do you ever get a little fed up, maybe you haven’t seen any healing, maybe no miraculous signs or wonders have gone down in a while and your just desperate for something. Maybe your losing faith? Maybe your not sure if it can really happen?

Just consider this...
Its a cloudy afternoon, 5 transit folk take a break from clearing the community garden on one of the toughest estates in the north. Carmella, a lady of around 80 years old who is just getting ready to go in for a hip swap operation, hands out a few cups of tea and simply asks a little about what transit is all about. We recount the tail, its basic to say the least, bit of this, rhythms of that, helping where we can, just trying to be image bearers of Christ in the world. With a look across her face that exudes dumbfounded hope she utters a few words that shake my thinking “that’s healing that is, that’s healing that is to hear you say that” (in a wonderful Italian/Yorkshire blended accent) That’s healing, I stop to consider for a moment of two. Just think, as we struggle and strive to do as best we can in advancing the kingdom, in prayer and action could that in its self be healing? Granted no one has been cured of cancer of freed from HIV, but an old lady who’s faith had taken a jump forward through some practical help. A boy who really needs some help with writing lyrics for a party on Saturday night and on a deeper level is searching for someone to restore a sense of trust in his life. Some sound advice to a guy about to face a tuff sentence, could these simple acts, in God’s hands be bringing about healing. Is a broken heart, a lost sense of trust, heightened pride and self dependence be the very things that need to be healed in the lives of the people around us. And greater still what if a whole community has lived and been founded on disappointment, failure, let down and depression. Could the simple act of serving free tea and cakes as a sign of acceptance love and hope be bringing about a change in the atmosphere and in doing so be bringing about healing (on one level)

I don’t really know, I’m just working it out, but the prophetic words of an Italian, Yorkshireean pensioner gave me another of life’s proverbial slaps in the face and then I’m left bemused by a God, a God of healing, in every sense of the word.

So where do we go from here???

Thursday 29 October 2009

just another day in the city

It’s like a 20 past 8 and then some, the streets still quite empty it’s like the days not yet quite begun. On the estate that we walk from
it’s not all about early birds
coz they lost sight of the worms, they weren’t up early enuff for them to get some
So we enter the race, the tightly fitted carriage sends a slight reminder that in our little bubble we don’t have worry about this daily trouble

Stepping of its a bit unknown, same sights of the big city, same gray tarmac underfoot, same buildings cutting up the early morning sky.

The task, just a day in the big smoke, a few house in the city
“Don’t take out with ya, just simply be”
Just, you know, see wot ya see.
Oh yeah and where is God in the city

The shadow of religion looms over me
The imposing architecture and massive heavy wooden doors coupled with the ‘everybody welcome’ sign seem to confuse few passersby,
but i figure, let’s go see where the cracks at and step a little foot inside.
I’m consumed by the front row line up. The 11 plus two Paul and Barnabus make up the starting 13 and when you think of fantasy football and the these guys make up a healthy starting team.
The dark wood and red carpets ooze religion,
the knitted knelling cushions ooze old age.
I’m staggered by the graves,
so many lives passed by, so many memorials that lie, but.... I don’t know, it seems a little like show like the more important the better position you get and the more your name glows????
I don’t know.
Then the horror, I read a little church magazine, and these are the words that lay before me.
This church was built as a memorial to God’s grace and truth in the year 1841, when most houses were in squalor and money was hard to be found

Now Im no expert
but at these words, there’s gotta be something, something deep inside your guts that just breaks down and says. “That aint right”.
Where the flip is the justice, and where IS God in all this (I appreciate my view is sceptical and Im sure this place has washed many sins and helped many into the kingdom, but, really?)
Then outside, I’m meet with a juxtaposition of the faith
In the shadow of the church lies a bench full of hurt
5 alcoholics
Just getting their drink on
Moved on
You gotta ask
How, do you bridge that gap?

A quick trip to the river to just observe the social surround and people that pass and just listen. Listen to the city sound,
find out where it can and is found.

HQ for a spot of nessiccary tea, bit of banter, dab a history.
A stark reminder of Gods heart that bleeds real blood for the poor and needy.
And the title of a book that just so grabs me,
‘Faith in the dark places’.
I love it
finding faith in the faces, of people and places and picking up the sound where they can’t even taste it,
its so desperately deep but inherently basic.
Face it,
its all around, just hiding a little waiting, to be found

A quid for a pasty, handy! Eaten in front of a street preacher that basically is saying the right stuff, but, flipping well putting people off.
It doesn’t seem like a message of love.
You can’t knock his dedication but somehow it seems like it’s just raising tensions.

Then a chat with a man, at the Christians for Israel stand. Ok, so what do you do?
a barrage ensues
about the Jews
and their significance in all that it is we do
and how we owe our faith to the Jews
and that Jerusalem is and will be the home of king of the Jews,
when judgement ensues?
I leave with a hand full of odd DVDs and just a little confused.

But that’s a feeling I’m use to.

Toilet in an art gallery, take in a bit of the ‘surrealism in context’ expo.
I don’t mind a bit of art, but I have to admit to not being a critic,
Does anyone really get this?
Really?
Step back into the real world to some guys stilt jumping plus a couple of free runners
Pause to consider a new career in extreme sports,
further pause in the realisation that I’m too lazy, unfit and unmotivated to actually follow this through.
It’s a good idea but, wot can you do

Moving on the busy streets
afternoon brings a new found intensity in the city.
And as the people flow buy and life moves in the breeze
I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the need for more tea.
Organic tea?
More expensive the first thing that strikes me,
but the two guys looking a little like there, homeless moves me
In to the situation, and catch the attention of a man
Just perched up at the stand, organic coffee in one hand
A plastic bag and socks with saddles,
not the usual guy Id spot but, this seems like an angle
His full on beard and Russian military style head gear slightly perplex me
He’s a living representation of the next-door neighbour from home alone, you remember
Quite scary

But as we trade tales of home towns and how we get down
I find a little of myself in this man.
His rolled cigarette and eyes of regret tell a tale of a hard worked life,
And to be honest, as conversation arises his worrisome look turns to a look of wisdom when you relies he’s all about life.
He was baptised at 16
And although hes not a religious guy
You can see some deep rooted hope in his eye,
We discus church history and issues of justice while the world moves at a pace around us
By his exterior don’t be put off
This guy knows his stuff
We discuss
The church, the why and why not
And how to live as a representative of Jesus, well that’s enuff
But how for most its not

So move down, south side of town and there’s something about a familier sound
That simply draws you in, even when
Its down a back ally into the dark
But, trust me
Thats where the fun starts
Subdub records,
Oldskool setting,
back of some shops up t a dodge stair case that looks unsuspecting
Apart from the weed smoking rasta man painted on the wall
The hooded up yut man behind the counter engages in banter
And I ask about the Leeds sound
“Its big man” it moves around but dub step d&b dance hall and raga
We got it all goin on my man
This is our manor”

So then its getting later
Pace back down the end of town to sit by the river
But on the way a guy stops me
He even asks politely and properly
Excuse me my friend could you do me a favour?
Wots that I reply unsuspecting,
He holds out his hand and gets ready to receive
Burv, have you got 50p
As i sit on the curb at in the nicer end of town with two guys Im taken into a completely different world.
Mikey and Dave
This is there home, theses streets this town, these places I passed.
Its where they doing the living.
A little deeper below the surface lies some much sinister purpose that drives them to be out here.
Yeha we got family
We got kids and that
But,
They can’t ever see us like this
It’s the drink you see, its got a grip.
And we can’t get out of it
A few prison stretches they share between them and this seems to further the friendship in em
It seems they have like a code or something.
They don’t share the money but if one needs a drink, then all he need do is ask and his mans got his back
It seems even in the hardest places, community is something to be searched out.
There’s a few of them, I find they meet wherever they can, the run down the places in town where you can hang and the places that hand out food when they can
Mikey’s two black eyes show the tails of street life,
and how it’s not so much them that are the threat
but that in this position and in just observing them you can see there’s a massive amount of venerability in this position
Should you given money even if it is only 25p
Well i guess they’ll probably spend in down the road in the offey
But
Wasn’t it Jesus
Who gave love unconditionally

So wots the sound of the city?????

Tuesday 22 September 2009

And I will worship you here.

So it no surprise when these words roll out in song my mind is drawn back to places of incredible beauty that we’ve had the privilege of visiting over the past few weeks. In these places of immense beauty it’s kinda easy to worship God. When your surrounded by the work of his hands,iIn a place where he’s the focus, in the prayer room in the safety of a church building, it’s not a difficult thing to say “yeah, I will worship you here”.

Snap forward a little, to a boy on the street I aint seen in a while, he begins to share his troubled soul, his anger and the things that lay heavy on his shoulders. The boys on the park bench don’t seem any different 5 months later. The aspirations to simply get away from reality by any means they can still linger heavy. It breaks my heart to these guys, guys that full of potential, guys with hopes and dreams, guys that are searching, but just looking in all the wrong places.
Then it comes, the challenge now takes on a new dimension, “Can you worship me here?” It’s a bit more difficult, it’s nowhere near as safe, its out of any type of comfort zone you could imagine, but, Yeah, “I will worship you hear”, among the broken, among the hurting among the lost. In fact, It’s what I want to do. I don’t know how, I’m gonna need some direction, but I’m here, and I WILL worship you. With all that I am. At least I’ll try, as best as I possible can

Friday 18 September 2009

I've walked this road before

So I think this is it for a while. Its been all I could imagine and more. The only way I can sum it up is with a very long poetic retrospective with a glimmer of hope for the future. I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.




I’ve walked this road before
But
Somehow, it seems so much different than before
So many faces, the same streets and same places
And I recognise them, But
Somehow, it’s just. Different from before
So in the only way I know, I just roam the street
To the same tired old rhythm that rolls to an all too familiar beat
Remembering that those were the days
And remembering that those were they ways
And never again will it be the same
And with every melodic slow pounding from the drum, I realise “son”
Things done change
Ya see I dun walked through the valley, and I got lost in the shade of the shadow
And when I was surrounded by the snarling sneering forces, in the dark side quarter
I fell, and I got caught.
And trust me you can’t know how deep man a sink
And how close man just came so close to the brink
When all I could think
Was, there’s no further left to sink
And with one last look over my shoulder not knowing what to think
That’s
When he found me
Just when it felt too deep
And my lack of knowledge on how ta swim, trust, nearly drowned me
That’s
Where he found me
And he said he’d been shouting out for a while, but it was too loud around me
I said, man I’m truly sorry coz I really aint done right
And I tried to stand up but I lost the fight
Made some bad moves and didn’t get things just right
But with a voice that could calm the most savaging storm he said,
It’s alright son
Coz it’s all said and done
And now,
It looks so much different than before
The battles lost, but with a confidence that surpasses rationality and logic and understanding he pointed to a distant light and in the breaking of the dawn
He said It’s all good, the time ‘ll soon come
And all I could do was just sink into to his magnificence, his beautifully, his simple elegance and appreciate all that he is and was and will be to me before my times done,
And in the most appropriate time that has ever been presented itself all I could holla was,
Flippin, nice one bruv
Since then I’ve been lifted
And the walk was tuff sometimes but somehow I knew I would make it
And with endless help I made it
And I stood, on the brink of the mountains
In complete gratitude for the works of his hands in the surroundings
And as I watch the sunset over the most perfect backdrop
And remember where I was,
and now just where my feet are
and I just have to stop
And as I rolled on the path less travelled
To follow his lead and see how far I could follow
To be amazed time after time
And line after line of 1000 rhymes
Can’t even begin
To keep up
And you won’t believe the things I’ve seen, far beyond your wildest dreams
An 8 year old girl searching through the rubbish in a skip till her fingers bleed
To a true solider, who fell in the pressure from the enemy
To a community, and you gota love the irony
That pray nonstop in a house between the town’s hottest night spot and the heroin stop
From the power cuts in the Balkans to the red lights in Amsterdam
Finally
I’m only just starting to learn a bit about who I am
So I can tell you with not word of doubt
Having been with from the land of plenty
to the land where they just do without
I’ve walked this road before
But with all that’s gone down it won’t ever be the same as before
Coz I’m not the same any more
Having known now what I know now having been where I’ve been and found what I’ve found
Having rolled street to the same old sound, having made my way to the lost and found
Right now
I can’t stop moving
I can’t sit down
Because from up here on the mountain,
You can see all the way
Down
To wot lays broken and dormant on the ground
And then comes the sound
“Go down”,
It’s just a whisper at first and it’s hard to make out the words
“Go down”
Just a little louder that at first, just a simple verse
“Go down”
Getting louder still and these feet of mine just can’t keep still
“Go down” “Go Down”
No its hollain at me, the sounds so loud, in words that I can see,
“this is what I’m calling you to be”
the response to call that’s been birthed in me,
the command I can see quite literally
and the voice becoming the whole of me,
and journeys long the end I can’t see,
but the sounds guiding my feet and passions just pulling me,
I want ta be
all I can be
and burning a deep fire right in the depth of me
and still struggling with what it means to give all of me,
starting to realise it means the very soul of me
layed out bare for all to see,
to lay down all my hopes and my so many dreams,
and trusting that he,
is all that I need,
and in the best and the worst he will come through for me,
the shouts still get louder gradually
until all I can think and all I can be and all that consumes the inside of me is
the answer that he’s already planed and put inside of me
“Go down”.
Im on my way
With a fire burning bright from the eyes
Able to see right through the darkest of dark nights
To help eliminate the how’s and the whys
Down, down to the depths we go,
It’s not the simplest route and the path lays dormant and old
And the early silence is one that I know
Down the path, though the thickest forest to the pit I once saw,
But this time
I’m in much clearer position than before,
Just back to the spot where he found me
Maybe you’re loosing or just not fittin in
Maybe your maybe this is the battle that you just can’t win,
Maybe ya struggling but don’t know where to begin
Coz every step that you take pulls you much further in
And there’s nothing you can do so ya just start sinking
But now to the secret, let me let you in,
When it all goes down and the storms raging
And the forces against us tear us up from within
And try to outstand the harshest temptation
When you look into the eyes of the enemy within
Staring straight into the face of satian
And ya felling like it’s a battle and ya just can’t win
And it’s getting dark and just can’t win
And ya sail won’t find the slightest of wind
And now is the time ya feel you can only give in
Then to a secret, let me let you in
I heard a rumour,
That in the end
he win’s
So I walked the valley and i fell many times, I got stuck
And I’ve stood in the presence of greatness and observed it all from the top
I’ve seen the night sky glisten and the and the moon light up the sea,
I’ve come to know the light on the hill top that was put there for me
The one that guides the path and makes things clearer to see
So in accordance with the sound, that rings out so clearly
And in line with the path that’s laid out for me,
I’ve seen the top and it’s amazing to me
But that’s not where you’ll find me
But find me in the valley, in the pits of despair
Find me in the darkness searching with a fixed stare
Now the light that burns bright dwells in the depths of me
Find me in the valley, simply trying to help people ta see

Coz up here is beautiful,
And I love it believe,
but down there, their drowning literally,
right in front of me
And as I walk the same streets, the faces I see, but I can’t help notice how different they seem
It’s like I can hear souls screaming at me
Don’t walk passed this, don’t try and be the fastest
I’m drowning down here in the deepest abyss
Please help me, get me out of this
This is an opportunity it would be criminal ta miss
That’s where he found me
Now that’s where I need to be
So we can help em get up here to see what we’ve seen
Coz up on the top of the mountains a great place to be
But in the valley, with the broken
is where we’re called to be
And not still shouting the same old here I am send me
Coz the challenge was laid down clear for all to see
Plain and blatantly
Now
here I am,
use me.
Mould me shape me
Let the things that break you, begin to break me
And I’m right here and I’m ready so
Now’s the time
The battle fields open
And this soldier...
Is ready.

Wednesday 16 September 2009

The Dam DAM!

“Excuse me, do you guys speak English?” The two sat on the bench look somewhat different to anyone I’ve seen in a church for a long time. Two tuff faced soul’s draped in the style of the city. “Yeah mate we do, what’s up” “Errr well, I was wondering if we could give you a flyer for this...thing...?” “There’s a dance party goin on in the church across the way at the top of the Red light, though you might wanna go, if you take this you can have a free drink or something to eat” such was the brief we received an hour or so ago on arriving in the dam. Then it struck, I know this place and the reputation that too readily precedes it, but never have I stood in this street and heard it put so blatantly “this is a Christian party right, if it’s in a church?” “Yeah, that’s right” “You know where you are right?, this is Amsterdam, over there just a few meters away and still in eye sight is the red light district. This is the city of sin!” “What are Christians doing here?”
Have you ever hear something that’s packed so full of truth, so loaded with pain yet in the same breath is ready to explode with possibilities. BANG, this is it “that’s exactly why we’re here” we reply, with an air of confidence in this small band of soldiers that have assembled in this city, this weekend, for exactly this reason.
We got to Amsterdam late Friday afternoon, after pitching our tent in the most Getto (with a capital Gett) of camp sites. We stick our faces into the YWAM base in to see what is happening. By this point in our travels, I’m getting less and less convinced that coincidences happen, and more and more sure that God, took the time out and just dropped us into situations already prepared for us to be in (thanks Dad). Mission Amsterdam is happening, now, it’s started an hour ago, do you fancy joining in? Yeah baby. We have come to learn the lesson of getting involved and worrying about any consequences that may follow later. Christians from around the Netherlands, Germany, America and Steve lee with his ‘miracle street’ team from England have gathered for this. It’s like when Mike skinner and the streets paint a picture of the ultimate hedonistic night of club culture and drug taking,

‘they’ve all come together for this party, many faces, from places you never heard of, wots ya name, where ya from and wot you on?’

But this time its heating up in the city, the names may be the same and the places you never heard of, you still never heard of but ‘what you on’ is a different story entirely.
So the weekend flows, outreach evangelism and mission. Now it’s easy for me to step back as an outsider and say why I didn’t like some of the ways it was done and some of the methods were a bit ‘oldskool’ for my liking etc etc. But what I can say is this; we met some people that have a heart for this city. A real heart for the people here. As we stroll through the red light and here the knocks on the glass and our noses fill with the ‘aroma’ of the city and as often we have heard. You start to see things, just a little, from the God perspective. As we spend the weekend with a Italian/American Dutch guy, a crazy Germany evangelist, and English escape artist, a Latvian funk band and various others we start to see the makings of an army. An army of young people that would march out, on the streets of despair and simply just care! It’s wonderful and heart breaking at the same time, but I’m coming to see that sometimes that’s how we need to see things!
After the festivities of the weekend we walk the now bright streets of the red light and tuck into the first English breakfast I’ve experienced in 4 and a half months. The streets seem so different in the day light. The live porn show signs are still present but lack the backing of the neon lights and somehow, in the cold light of day, just seem sad. But as we visit some places we continue to see God at work. A prayer house in the main strip called the tabernacle, a Christian community house right in the deepest part of the district, a youth hostel run on Christian values with prayer and bible studies available to any of the 180 guests that may be staying at any one time. As the battle cry of broken hearts advances the army does too!
But then, as if you needed reminding, the harsh reality hits home, after a weekend where we’ve heard of guys going into the hang outs of prostitutes and leading them to God himself, stories of healing and testimonies shared on the streets. We walk down a small ally at 10.30 am we hear the all to familiar tap tap on the glass and turn to see a girl, at 10.30 in the morning, touting for business. The €250 she has to pay for her place in the window has to be paid somehow, and if that means starting work early, here in the city of sin, at least for now, life goes on?

The northest place

Here on in lies a whole bunch of dubious connections. We roll up in Denmark at the house of some guys who know some guys who know us. What they do and how they do it is a little unknown, all we know is we are still on the path. Still trying to follow God and listen to the whisper in the wind. So we arrive in Svenbourg, Denmark.
Our crash pad for the next few days is the house of Frank and Miriam there 4 children 1 cat and 4 kittens, with the occasional visit of a sister, a brother in law and baby, and mum and dad makes this family home seem almost the same as some of the community houses we have been to already. We spend the first night learning, where they’ve been and how they too have live out this eternal adventure of following God to the ends of the earth. It’s still amazing, when you roll up in a city that you could have so easily driven passed as just some place and bang, you’re thrown into what God is doin. I pause to think of all the little villages, towns and cities we have already driven passed and consider where God is, where are the people doing his bidding and how it’s changing people’s lives?......
Until I’m rudely awaken at 4.45am! Wot, now you don’t have to tell me that prayer is important, but I’m also very aware of the laws of nature that tell us sleep is also and essential to life. Either way 5 am we roll up at the church for a 2 hour prayer meeting (I was sure you only had to pray for one hour, but, you know, when in Rome) So for a majority of the time we simply sat and told stories, of what God is doing, around Europe, in a little place called Stanford-Le-hope, and here in this city. How people were committing to prayer and from that special place of hanging with Dad, people are right now being mobilised into action. We begin to hear about a Drug and alcohol rehab place that the church run, how they have just taken over a building and are wondering and praying as to what they need to focus on, young people? Single parents? Homeless people? It’s just wonderful to be able to pray into something right at the beginning of its birth.
But this is what I love about being on road. The big picture is amazing; to see God moving in a city and situation a church a community is immense. But. To be invited into the inner sanctum of just one life, to see the bones of what makes them tick, is something truly special. Let me introduce you to Pete, Pete lives and works at the drug and alcohol rehab centre, we have the privilege of meeting him and the residence there the following day and spending some time in this environment. He shares stories of how he was a missionary in Greenland, facing persecution and needing police protection at times. He shares a bit of his heart for the residence of the rehab centre. But then, as if it wasn’t enuff, he tell us, that hearing the stories of the Bus in the UK and prayer walking the streets and seeing the young guys not as problems but as the possibilities that God himself is looking for had struck something with him. His heart for the gospel is big, his heart for people is massive, he asks us to pray for him. Us? To pray for Him? Sometimes its kool to share the stories and pray that God will be lifted up in it all but to have the privilege of praying with someone touched by hearing what God is doing and being inspired to get on it themselves. Well, surely that is what it’s all about.
Oh yeah and did I tell you he’s 64 years old! Oh yeah, living the dream! God, I pray you will continue to inspire me at that age and beyond, in whatever way you want.

A few more days with Frank and Miriam’s family is prefect end to out brief stay in Denmark. How amazing it is to be welcomed by not just people, but family. Thanks Guys.

Monday 7 September 2009

Rollin round Z’s manor

So it’s dark now, the damp floor lingers underfoot form the earlier down pour,

As earlier today I take a walk up this hill visible from all around. Past the quaint houses and cobbled pavements, the bench on the corner and the last street light. Into the darkest part of the night.
I walk up the Hill to ‘Gods Acre’. This time it feels different. There’s no one walking dogs or site seeing, this time its silent.
I take a seat on the edge and cast my eyes of little knowledge and great intrigue over the vast expanse of open ground and just consider. This is place God had been, this is place the like of which I couldn’t even dream. One noble man and a bunch of refugee’s witnessing an covering of the holy spirit the likes of which I’ve never seen. In the distance now darkened by the night sky, but there behind the trees, lies the church where it begun, born out of frustration and miscommunication and conflict among friend, God chooses, in his infinite wisdom, to intervene. This path before the bench on which I’m sitting leads to that church. Is it even possible that Moravians could have walked this very path in front of me, beginning to confess to each other their deepest thoughts and confessions, beginning to turn away and except the never ending source of forgiveness that is still there?
I walk through God’s acre, and whiteness countless graves of hundreds of lives that made a difference to the world, that through meeting with God and being inspired and listening to his direction set out, with little money and no knowledge of how the journey would go, even with the idea to sell themselves as slaves. Such was the passion, the passion of the message of Jesus.

I see the grave of Joshua, the west Indian, freed slave who’s tail sparked the excitement of 2 young men and lead to the first mission trip from this tiny town hundreds of miles away, and I wonder, what type of story would I have to hear to make me do the same?

I walk up to the site of the lookout tower that watches over this thinnest of thin places, to Herrnhut and beyond. And there on a bench at the foot of this place of prayer sit an old couple wrapped in a knitted blanket surrounded by candles. Not being able to speak the language I was unable to find the true purpose of their vigil, but I would like to think that in the age old tradition of this town the watch over the city in prayer still upholds itself, in the hearts and prayers of the faithful few. I make my way carefully down the steps into the trees and back to the grave yard. In the day this seems the safest of places steeped in history. But everything looks different in the dark. The universal sounds of night creep round as the skyline fades and the shadows creep in, I couldn’t help but think this was the path laid out for me? “Son, You know where I am, you’ve waited in my presence, you’ve gazed into the vast expanse of my creation and you’ve seen into the eyes of those I love, Whom I gave my only son for. Now go, go into the dark, go down from hear and get in deep, take this light, take this knowledge take this urgent message and spread it to all that will listen. What are you waiting for?”

I walk back down to the street, somehow the significance of this meeting changes my outlook on the surroundings, it soon becomes clear that unlike in my manor, hear there are no street lights, there’s plenty dark spots to hide, There’s is light, but it’s in the houses and the doors are closed firmly shut. There’s only me, no one else around. Lacking any sense of direction I amble back to where I think I should be, Ironically, the gate of the Jesus House is closed, but opposite stand a few young souls engaged in conversation, beer drinking and a cheeky smoke. What can I learn for spending just 30 minutes or so walking round Count Z’s manor. Having heard the stories of old, having seen the darkest night of winter, but having also been blinded by the light.???? Wot do you think?

Above are my thoughts from one evening, this being said, the Jesus House is a centre for prayer worship and community. They are working hard to live out the values of Christ in this town where the challenges take different forms to any I’ve experienced so far. Having unemployed government program workers on site and inviting them to a BBQ, the shop opposite run by members of the community supporting mission work in Mongolia, the weekly prayer for Gods people of Israel, the morning devotion and daily evening worship, the hospitality to visitors goes so far to express God in this town.
As we sat one night with Renee, and American called to this holly place, she shared that her heats cry is this. Its great people come to see the town and hear the history, but I pray that once again God will show up in this seemingly little and insignificant town and that people form far and wide would come, because what God is doing NOW!

Please join in with the same prayer. Thanks

Thursday 3 September 2009

Just get a bigger table!


Have you ever just been talking to someone, and in the midst of the conversation, they drop some knowledge on you, that literally is so simple you should have thought of it yourself before you even woke up, yet so profound that it literally takes you 5 minutes to pick your brain up off the floor to continue the conversation. They say it just in passing yet, it doesn’t just pass, its stays, it inspires and pushes you forward in your thinking?

You know what an oasis is, a place in the desert where people that are thirsty can go to drink. Where those that are tired from their journey can find rest and people that are searching can find what they need. Have you ever been to an oasis? I have, it was in a city called Thun, in Switzerland. Susannah and her band of disciples live, eat, and pray together in the confines of their 4 rather large walls. This intense community of believers are sharing life together in the rawest form.
What I learned to love and to inspired about this safe haven, was that it’s not closed, the door is literally always open (even maybe when it shouldn’t be!) The house is located right in between a night club, which is open 5 days a week till 3.30 am and a house that will be used by the local governing body to administer heroin and methadone to keep addicts from the streets. What a place to pray, what a position of influence to be in!
Not content with the position, this little community extends its hospitality to the city’s poor, a once a month Brunch for the homeless, the moneyless and the lonely goes so far to building the kingdom we so long to see.
Born out of a vision to live as a community of ‘followers of the way’, sharing life, learning from each other, discipleship and prayer this place is so much more than just a community house. We met various people over those few days that had been influenced by this vision and had subsequently had their lives changed, it really was an inspiration.

“When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat, When I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink...! Never before have these words from the Boss been so simply and clearly expressed before my eyes but in this case. Here I would also think a few more could be added to the sentence, you didn’t just feed me, you gave me a flipping top layout of food, you sang to me, played music, made me feel like part of the family, and you showed me love” isn’t that in itself, the most important commandment of all.

In our journey to learn all we can about Christ centred community, one of the deepest yet simple bits of advice was dropped in an ordinary conversation after dinner. “If you really wanna start doing community, all you need to do is get yourself a bigger table, and fill it!” and I guess like in the bible if those that are invited don’t come, go to the streets and the fields invite all you find to come and eat with me.

Amen sister. Be Blessed.

Thursday 27 August 2009

Precision randomness!

We need a place to stay in Germany, Big Philly says ‘’Check out the 24-7 prayer website, see if anyone’s praying in Germany’’ So we do, and they are. We rock up to this church about an hour from where were and wait outside for the brother of this guy that we spoke to on email to meet with a youth group and talk to them before they embark on a week of prayer. Random?
As people start to show up, and we engage in conversation it soon becomes clear that this is the first time they have run a week of prayer!!! Some have no idea what to expect!!! What a privilege to be placed by the very hand of God into this situation we spend the best part of an hour with around 20 young people tentatively preparing to pray. We share from experience of prayer, prayer rooms, boiler rooms and what God is doing around Europe. We tell about the lessons we have learned, about relationship with the father, about listening, about compassion and beginning to see the world through the very eyes of the one who conceived it all. And not forgetting, we talk about the next step. We explain about the importance of taking the prayer out of the prayer room, being the answers to the prayers and responding to the heart of our Father. Random? I don’t think so. When I wrote about being pieces on a chessboard little did we know those same words would come again to fulfilment the very next day. What a privilege it is to be part of God’s chess game, to move in the way he moves us, to respond and to be used.
Maybe we will never see these guys again, but we pray that that all they will remember is two weird smelly guys came, but God spoke, prayer happened and a town was turned.

Not to us, God, but to you be the glory (again). Amen

Big Flo and the dream house

So, Flo was big. And so too was the ‘Dream house’, not so much in stature but in inspiration, in influence and in idea. We spent just a short time with Flo, but in the few short hours we had to talk his deeply rooted ideas in Christ centred community blew our tiny little minds.
The Dream House, although it’s been running for near on 5 years is very much in its infancy. From what we learned (much as we did in Macedonia) it’s about relationships. Deep rooted tight relationships. Flo has faced many difficulties in running the race set out before him, he has encountered a lot of opposition, but his dedication to the idea, to the dream is intense. Dream House is community, it’s a charity, its workshops for kids and young people, its teaching and learning, Dream House in its self, is a dream and it’s about releasing dreams!

We only saw a small aspect of it in action but it was enuff, enuff to see this guy and the people around him really live, as if it all depended on them but believe that in the end, it all depends on God. The ‘Summerloch festival’ was just one string in the intricate tapestry of the Dream House, but the idea to connect Christians directly with the world through the common passion of music really was something special. The security, the sound guys, the drinks lorry, even the guys helping put up the fences, most weren’t Christians, most probably had negative views on church but there seems to be, through many hours of hard work at building friendships, such a deep level of respect for these guys and their work, a respect that perhaps a church group couldn’t get to but just a few guys, living out there faith in the only way they feel possible is having an influence on so many lives. Take Albi, a hard working, hard living sound man that I’m sure you’d never get even into the car park of a church. He says to us ‘So, you’re friends of Florian, right?’’ ‘’Ok, so you’re in with the Dream House? Then you must be Christians, right? ‘’Ok, that’s kool’’. Kool! Is it? not most of the time, not in most circles but due to the relentless work of this band of soldiers, working behind the scenes, somehow, the fact that we are living representatives of Christ have become exceptable, even kool, thus giving ground to sow into. Florian says that since he left conventional church some 5 years back he’s never spent so much time with non Christians. Therein lies a massive challenge for us.
The Dream House vision has still so much to achieve: A community house, not just for Christians but for those who need a place to belong and feel loved, Youth work, Connections around Europe, A catalyst for further development of these ideas around Europe. It goes on. Who knows how it will progress? Who knows how far its influence will stretch? But, what starts in simple prayer and sharing life (really sharing life) could do so much to bring about the kingdom of God in our time.

As an aside Florian and the Dream House guys would love to connect more around Europe, especially with England, for teams to come and help with the music festival, to come and pray to simple be together as Christians to build and strengthen each other. The invitation is open. It’s for You! please come, visit, serve, pray, simply be the family we are called to be.

Oh yeah, I borrowed one of flows shirts one day too, it was a little tight around the knees but other than that it was fine.

Monday 24 August 2009

Are you living hip-hop or are you just a rapper?

So by some twist of, Gods plan and on the journey of following him around Europe we find ourselves at ‘SommerLoch’ a music festival in Germany, a little way from Frankfurt. The concept is intense, it’s not about the music, although there are some big names from the German, indie, rock and metal scene’s here. It’s not just about Christians; Christian bands make up about 20% of the bill. But it is about God, it’s about relationships, building together a network of lives that maybe somehow wouldn’t come into contact otherwise, but with the same passion for music are drawn together in God’s plan. Sometimes I feel like a piece in a game of chess. I don’t really understand the game or what everybody does or even what everybody is capable of, I’ve got an idea of how to move, although it’s a bit restricted in my mind and I don’t know why I move like this. But. And the But is big. God’s moving the pieces, with the skilled mind and hands of a master, simply using the pieces to move in just the way they were made to move in the right spaces at the right times for the eventual goal that he has already in mind. Maybe it’s not even about winning, not even about being the last piece on the board, but it’s about being used to your maximum potential even when the movements seem out of place.



So we’re sitting in this guy’s house, eating a bowl of noodles warmed up from the night before. He doesn’t really know us or what we stand for but we are his workers for the day, lifting sound gear and parts of stages, putting up tents and doing general stuff. But as we share some food, he begins to tell us about his life; he runs sound in a place called ‘the slaughter house’ he’s in a band, he has a recording studio where he records young in-experienced bands for cheap to keep his head in the music biz, he lives the life kids dream of. His name’s Thomas, he works in partnership with Florian (our host) to run this festival. He’s not a Christian, but we are, and we are here, how does this happen, I don’t know. But I’m confident in the fact that it is for a reason. In true rock and roll style he tells us life is all about his wife, his kids and the music. We pray there will be an addition to that list, of the truth!




In steps German action-man, let battle commence. Travelling with the Baytonater I’ve learned a lot about living in the wild, tying knots, survival techniques and general macho stuff, but now in this foreign land, the master of the towel had his work cut out. Our English action man sleeps inside on a bed, but German action man sleeps in the garden under a plastic sheet, not coz there’s no room, coz he likes it. Simmo wins on knowledge of tent erection and superior knot tying skills. Sim has a knife on his belt; German-action man had a lighter for his roll ups. Then a curve ball is thrown into play, German action man is a DJ, his in-depth knowledge of Hip-Hop culture and bag of vinyl adds massively to his credibility, and he’s actually a good DJ. His army like appearance and long platted hair may put you off at first, but when he gets into the funky rhythm it transforms him to a musical monster, Simmo’s knowledge of the bugle just doesn’t quite step up.
However, it is our Simmo, wielder of the latest addition of the trek and field catalogue who’s in-depth understanding of sound equipment, stage erection and the intricate ways of the gaffer that gives him the title of Ultimate Action-Man/fox’s squeaker

N e way this post isn’t about that, it’s about life. We sat one day and had a deep discussion with German action man, aka Tillman, aka DJ Snooka. About life and God and being a true disciple, we also discussed hip-hop and culture. The bushman hat wearing German laid down some knowledge that I will not forget. ‘’A Rapper is a rapper, he does his thing, he entertains, he knows his skill and how to use it, he can impress the crowd with vocal delivery and rhyme styles. But an MC, an MC, in the world of Hip-Hop has to earn the title; he doesn’t just rap, he controls the mic the crowd and the scene. He lives hip hop, not just by wearing baggy jeans but by being the embodiment of the culture: he has a rhyme book in his back pocket, he grew up in rap battles to win sweets and lunch money, his body is tattered with war scars from tails of street notoriety which he can expertly depict in verse’s but his social commentary on the political implications to his environment inflict equally hard hitting blows to the ear, he knows the four elements of hip hop and they govern his life. People like Puff Daddy and Kanye West and flow rider are rappers, maybe they make a good track, and yeah they entertain, but it’s the under dogs, the seldom heard that claim the MC title, Scarface, Rakim, Pharo March, KRS1 Rakewon, skinnyman, these are the guys whose head stones, probably too soon would read, for the love of Hip Hop.
In these words that reflect life I have to ask myself ‘do I live hip hop?’ not literally coz that would be silly, but as a Christian do I live the life? Is it evident in every part of me? Even down the way I walk and talk? Do I live Christ or I’m I just a Christian? Can I put on a good show, make the people cheer and become a name? Or is there more to me? Is the very way I live a reflection of the true God? Here in lies the biggest lesson and challenge of this trip so far.

Wot about you? Do you live Hip-Hop, or do you just Rap?

Sunday 16 August 2009

Friends of friends


So we as we leave Gjakova I can’t help feel a deep sense of sadness and regret. Not regret about anything that has happened or sadness about how it has all played out. But just a sense that God is on the move in our fair city, that his army is advancing, and that there’s till work to be done.

But all things for a time and all times for a reason or something, so we move into the unknown. It’s Stivi and silemon (as we have become known) first stop Macedonia. The landscape might not change but these neighbours are worlds apart, motorways, road signs, constant electricity and the promise of MacDonald’s greet’s us on the other side of the border. We meet up with the wonderful bowers and out what it’s all about.
The issues are similar, high unemployment, alcohol, drugs, money. The same issues batter us the world over but what we learned in Macedonia was an interesting lesson. As its summer hear, the Glasnost 24-7 prayer community is mostly quite, at least this week, not so much is happening. However as we carefully question and observe the Bower in his habitat we see this is about friends. Friends, first and foremost of God, as we are invited to be, but then. As they strive to find authentic Christian values and live as a community of likeminded people with the same ideals, we see friendship. Phone calls hear, a football game to watch there, a few drinks late one night and this is the foundations of the work here. Its amazing to see and hear how this lowly bunch of misfits who didn’t fit into any of the forms of church offered to them have developed their own unique form of Christ centred community and it works, its strong, its finding its feet but. It’s the friends of friends simple living how Christ intended them to, finding how that can be authentic and pulling in the people around them in the same situations.
This is how it’s happening and it’s working

I’m sure we will learn more lessons, I’m sure we will see other ideas but for now as we stood in various places above the city of Skopje intreged as to Gods plan for this city, it seems that this large metropolitan mass has a network beneath it, working in the back ground in simple conversations, in little meetings and in the darkness. Simply doing, simply loving and simply being.

Thanks for having us guys.