Category: Personal

I have recently been remembering my early Christian life by listening to some sermons that I heard back then. They are available online by a preacher called Tony Campolo. Like many itinerant preachers he gives the same message in a number of places so the talk online isn’t quite the same as the one I listened to, but it was enough to rekindle my memories of those day. I was lovely to feel those days.

In one of the talks he recounts a survey of 50 people over the age of 95 who were asked what they would do differently if they had life to live all over again. They responded by focusing on the following: 

• They would risk more. 
• They would reflect more. 
• They would do more things that would live on after they were dead.

What an amazing challenge. But what does live on after you die, and then it came to me memories. Not my memories, but the memories of those around me, and especially the memories of those I dearly love. Especially the memories of my children, Jonathan and Emily.

The other Sunday, Sue and I were in the rare situation where neither of us needed to be at church. We had an evening off. As it was the last day of our holiday we decided to break free a bit and build some memories. On this occasion we drove up into the Trough of Bowland where there is a stream which is deep enough in a few places to swim. We took swimming gear and paddling shoes. Though it wasn’t the warmest evening ever both Jonathan and Emily decided that being in the water was definitely more interesting than sitting on the bank. Jonathan stuck to paddling and throwing stones; Emily wanted to get in deeper and deeper though. She wanted to risk more; she wanted to really swim. We steadily made our way down the stream until we found a pool big enough and she loved it.

Sue and I both sat on the banks and reflected. We revelled in the joy that our children were getting from the simple, yet profound, adventure of life. We breathed in the beauty of the gently flowing brook and the green hills, lit by the summer sun slowly making its way down into Morecombe Bay.

The great thing about memories is that they don’t need to cost anything. You don’t need to pay £65 for a day pass into a theme park. What you need to do is something that is either new or something that is old and dearly loved; a ritual. It’s one of those strange contradictions. The things that build memories are either things that are novel and adventurous, or things that have become part of your family ritual. When I say ritual I am talking about those things that we do time and time again with the same love and excitement as the first time we did them.

I am sure that Emily will remember the game we play every evening. Emily and I have this ritual of racing to bed. She (nearly) always wins and I (nearly) always let her. We have played this game thousands of times we will probably play it thousands more; it is our ritual and we love it.

We love to watch local television programmes that tell us about things going on in our area, because it opens our eyes to new adventures. These programmes show us things that we would never have thought of. It’s OK to be spontaneous, but sometimes adventures take a little planning.

The whole chastney family love going to church, and it feels strange when we don’t. I pray that the ritual of going to church will live on after I die, in the lives of my children. I pray that their memories of what God can do in his people will stay with them, and that they will love Him too. That would be a real blessing.

Jesus gave us a ritual – we call it Communion. He gave is this ritual to remind us; to make the memory live.

Taking bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, given for you. Eat it in my memory.”

In many many ways he also challenged us to adventure too.

Sleep

A natural periodic state of rest for the mind and body, in which the eyes usually close and consciousness is completely or partially lost, so that there is a decrease in bodily movement and responsiveness to external stimuli. During sleep the brain in humans and other mammals undergoes a characteristic cycle of brain-wave activity that includes intervals of dreaming.

The other day I read an article from the Harvard Magazine (of all things) about sleep. I could go into a long and complicated story about how I got to be reading this article but I’m not sure it would be that interesting. Suffice to say it involved a rather dull teleconference and a blog article. Sleep has always fascinated me, big questions like; why did God create it? what do we get from it? what do we really do while we are sleeping? This article made some fascinating statements about sleep and it’s purposes. Some of it was quite technical but there was some great lines too:

Sleeping well helps keep you alive longer. Among humans, death from all causes is lowest among adults who get seven to eight hours of sleep nightly, and significantly higher among those who sleep less than seven or more than nine hours.

And:

The moral of much sleep research is startlingly simple. Your mother was right: You’ll get sick, become fat, and won’t work as well if you don’t get a good night’s sleep. So make time for rest and recovery. Stickgold likes to compare two hypothetical people, one sleeping eight hours, the other four. The latter person is awake 20 hours a day, compared to 16 hours for the first. “But if the person on four hours is just 20 percent less efficient while awake, then in 20 hours of waking he or she will get only 16 hours of work done, so it’s a wash,” he says. “Except that they are living on four hours of sleep a night. They’re not gaining anything, but are losing a huge amount: you’ll see it in their health, their social interactions, their ability to learn and think clearly. And I cannot believe they are not losing at least 20 percent in their efficiency.”

It also has a lot to say about our need to go with the rhythms of night and day.

Sue and have been teased by many of our friends for our need to get to bed, but it turns out we were right all along. We all need our sleep.

But just because we need something, doesn’t mean it’s a blessing.

I love sitting in my bed reading a book and feeling sleep come over me like a wave.

I love waking up on a cold crisp winters morning , knowing that it is absolutely freezing outside my warm cozy cocoon.

I love going up to my children’s bedrooms and just watching them sleep, peaceful and quiet.

I love going to bed on a stormy windy evening and listening to the gales howling telling me that it’s all wild outside; but inside it’s warm and it’s cosy.

I love waking up and listening to Sue’s latest bizarre dream.

I love sitting in the shade on a summers day and feeling a gentle breeze woo me too sleep.

I love waking up knowing the answer to something I’ve been pondering for hours the previous day.

I love waking up knowing that I don’t have to rush off to some job or other, rolling over to Sue, putting my arms around her and lying there in that semi-awake state that a clear schedule allows.

And that it why sleep is a blessing.

I have to say though, that I am still pushing back against the afternoon nap because that is just too strong a signal that I am getting old.

Anyway it’s 10 o’clock, it’s dark outside and it’s time for bed.

From Psalm 4:

Why is everyone hungry for more? “More, more,” they say. “More, more.”

I have God’s more-than-enough, more joy in one ordinary day than they get in all their shopping sprees.

At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep, for you, GOD, have put my life back together.

Today is the first ‘real’ day of our holidays.

The actual first day was yesterday, but a holiday never quite feels like a holiday until I have actually woken up in a place.

This morning we woke up to a gloriously sunny day in Keswick and dressed for church. One of the really nice things about Sue’s Mum and Dad’s house is that it is in walking distance of church (we normally have to drive) and on a sunny day like today that was fabulous. We arrived at an early (so we thought) 10:15, only to discover that they had recently moved church earlier to 10:15. The place was packed because it’s the Keswick Convention. It was Steve Brady, who is always really good.

Having been to church we grabbed a sandwich and set off to walk around Buttermere. We all love Buttermere, there is something about the place that is both restful and awesome. We also planned for a bit of a paddle and perhaps a bit of a swim, so had the backpacks full of enough gear to allow everyone to get thoroughly wet.

Half way around we paddled in a waterfall. At the end of the lake we watched the local shepherd bringing the sheep down for shearing and grabbed a well deserved ice-cream. Just before the tunnel at Hassness we stopped for a proper paddle, and all got changed to go in for a swim.

By this time Emily was absolutely bursting with excitement. Jonathan was equally as excited but at 13 is trying to show it in a more adult way (and not doing too good a job of it yet, thankfully).

So in we went, straight in, well not actually because lakes in the UK aren’t very warm. The kids always go in first and try to fool us by saying that it’s not cold. Their faces always tell a completely different story. Despite the cold (and it wasn’t that cold) in we went; in deep; in over our heads; in out of our depth.

One of the challenges with swimming in Buttermere is that it slopes off dramatically; at 45 degrees down into a 20 metre deep abyss. Within 5 metres it’s too deep for any of us to stand.

It is cold, it is clear and it is glorious.

Now to those of you who might be thinking something along the lines of “But Graham isn’t that a bit dangerous, you’ve got young children” I have this to say – life is an adventure, live a little. In order to live a little you need to adventure a little. Much of life in the UK seems to be about squeezing the adventure out, but all that does is remove the life from it.

A swim in a lake that is surrounded by glorious mountains, trees, rocks and lake, is a treasure of great value. Doing it with my loved ones multiplies the value to make it a treasure beyond value.

Today is Sue and I’s wedding anniversary. 

On a warm sunny summers Saturday 16 years ago Sue and I were married at Crosthwaite Parish Church in Keswick. It was a fabulous day, but only the start of many more fabulous days which have followed it.

Sue and I have been through all sorts of good times and bad times – together. And that is the purpose of marriage – together. Not as individuals, but as a couple.

We have known what it is like to be absolutely penniless, and to see God provide.

We have known what it is like to experience child birth.

We have known what it is like to watch children grow and mature.

We have known what it is like to be hurt by those we thought were our friends.

We have known what it is like to buy and to move house.

We have known what it is like to see God move in ours’ and other’s lives.

We have known what it is like to make dramatic carrier decisions.

We have known what it is like to struggle with sickness.

We have known what it is like to have money.

We have known what it is like to have been married long enough to need a knew bed.

And many many more things we have known – together.

Every year about this time the Keswick Convention draws a few thousand Christians together. Tomorrow, Sue and I, Jonathan and Emily will be getting into our car and heading there again. Each year that we go it’s a bit like a renewing of our marriage vows because it occurs so close to our Anniversary, but also because it expresses in so many ways what Sue and I are about.

Tuesday in our church is prayer day. That doesn’t mean we pray all day, but it does mean that we set times aside throughout the day to pray. Personally I’m a morning prayer and join with a number of others at about 7:00 on some weeks. I say ‘about’ because this morning I slept in so didn’t make it until about 7:15.

Prayer for a Christian isn’t about sitting down and going through a ritual. It’s about a conversation between us and God. It’s about communing with God. As such I don’t just pray on Tuesday at 7:00, I pray at all sorts of times, most days.

I also try to dedicate times specifically to prayer during week. There is a catch-phrase for these times in Christian circles – “the quiet time”. When I first became a Christian (when I was 17) I soon got into the routine of ‘quiet times’. I’m not sure who suggested that they were a good idea but someone did and it worked – for a while. But over time they became stale and dry and definitely a ritual rather than a conversation. Rather than being a time of communing they became I time of guilt and regret. I soldiered on for a while, but eventually they became so dry that even the ritual fell away.

From time to time I would listen to preachers who would say that I should be making time for God. In a sense they were right, and I knew it, but I didn’t want to go back to the stale ritual. All those preachers managed to do was to build guilt. But God is much greater than any regret or guilt.

Over the last 12 months or so God has been showing me that I don’t need to feel any guilt and that the ritual of a ‘quiet time’ is as deadly as no ‘quiet time’ at all. What God wants is relationship and I am free to find that relationship in any way. The key message in this being ‘free’. There wasn’t a formula or a process; it was about relationship in freedom.

Since God has written that on my heart I don’t have ‘quiet times’; I have times of intimacy. I may be quiet, but I may not. What I don’t have it ritual; I am learning to find freedom. Since starting to move in freedom I have discovered that prayer is a blessing.

Sometimes I become grateful for things in strange ways. Today was definitely one of those days.

I am in Amsterdam, away from my family, and today a set of bombs have been triggered by a terrorist group in London killing over 30 people. This isn’t the first time that something dramatic has happened when I have been away from home. I was away from my family on September 11th, that time I was visiting a customer.

I can’t truly say why the thought of bombs in London got me thinking about war and conflict, but it did. It got me thinking that I was very fortunate to live in a country which hasn’t seen a major conflict for a very long time. I thank my grandfather’s generation that I have never had to go to war, something that almost every generation of British young men has had to do before me. I also thank those young men and women who daily expend their energies keeping it that way. Today’s event have highlighted what a tremendous job they do in a world which is not free from war and conflict.

I’m not here in Amsterdam looking forward to death on the battlefield and my family isn’t living in fear of nightly bombings. For that I am very grateful.

Events like today’s should make us realise how precious our peace and or freedom are, and make us value them even more highly.

I love being creative.

I know that for some people it can be both a blessing and a curse. They get the urge to create something and it overtakes and overpowers them. I’m not one of those people thankfully. I love being creative, but my creative urges are easily pleased.

As I grow older the thing I have come to realise is that being creative is definitely a state of mind.

There are times when my job connects with my creativity and I love it. There is no logic to when this is though.

There are times when simple house jobs connect too. If only this could be all of the time.

There are times when writing a blog is easy because the creativity just flows.

There are times when my creative side is pricked by doing some exercise. Unfortunately for my waistline this isn’t that often.

There are other times when I go out for a walk with a camera and my whole being changes. I feel like a child capturing a butterfly and gazing at the vastness of all creation.

Sue and I try to take a couple of days each year when we get away and spend time in quiet. Sometimes this is to an organised retreat, sometimes it is with some like-minded friends. in these times God pricks my creativity as a way of deepening our relationship.

For me that is what creativity is all about, it’s about deepening relationships. My relationship with myself, my relationship with God, my relationship with Sue, my relationship with Jonathan and Emily, my relationship with all humanity.