When I decided at the age of 14 that I wanted to write a book I had no idea where it would lead. The places it would take my mind, the people I'd get to know and yet that dream of potential that if I could just finish it to my own wish; that I could find a publisher; that it could engage all those unengaged, everyone who's promised me that however much they hate reading, or don't enjoy books that they would read it.

I sat in Ottakar's - that place named after my childhood's hero's story, full of inspiration, and I decided this would not be another short story, this would not be five pages of strange words of fiction, telling a story from the depths of my mind; my loves, my dreams, my fears, my hopes. This would be something that would be carried on tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and eventually I'd add something to it every week for three and a half years, some days completely oblivious to anything around me as I put the ink upon the page "Emma, you carry on, I'm locking up, let me know when you need to leave." Became as common place as "Emma? Where have you been? We've been open three hours already!" That was Silbury to me. This place of sanctuary where week after week I would sit and write, my second home, another family, my mood denoting my drink and the only person who dared drink Eggnog Mocha and that much Irish Cream Syrup.

Where is God?

I'm sitting here today thinking about how wonderful and beautiful life is, about how the goodness of God shines through the darkest moments, and that however hard we try, once we know Him, we can't turn away forever.

I turn my back on the enemy and he can stab me in a back, but he cannot pierce my heart from there whilst the breastplate of righteousness covers me. Whilst the shadow of God's wings covers me, whilst the blood of Christ covers me. From all sides I am covered, from all sides I am protected.

Yet a week ago I was sitting here a mess of tears wondering how this moment could be happening, how God could let me suffer this. Because a week ago, my Nan almost died. The most important word in that sentence is 'almost.' This has happened before, I've been told that she was going into hospital, that the doctors didn't know what else to do, that they'd tried everything but didn't think she could recover. I've been told these things, but it was 7 years ago, I was 14, it was the year my Grandmother died, for several summers it had been visits between two hospitals, I know the smell and the corridors and the nurses of those hospitals. I know where the flower room was where you could go and cut the flowers people had brought and find a vase for them.

So when 7 years later I get a call, my Nanny, she's waiting for the ambulance, I hear from my mother that it's bad, that she might not last a week. I'm half way through writing an essay, my last assignment of the year before exams, and it really matters, up until that moment it mattered. But now I just want to get on a train... no, not a train, a plane! I want to be there, I want a teleport, I want to see her, I want her to see how much I love her. I don't want to sleep because what if she dies whilst I'm sleeping, I fight myself to finish the paper which is already late, I finish the paper, I need to revise, I have an exam in less than a week, I must revise. I don't want to revise, what if she dies whilst I'm sitting that exam, why can't I be there! Why! And I start to pray, and I'm fighting myself for the words, because I know that I want to see her, but I can't pray for her to hang on another few days for me to get there, no, she can't suffer pain just so she can see me. So I pray to God that whatever it is, whatever He wants, take the pain away, take her pain away, if she dies then she isn't in pain, and if she lives let her be better. Please God, just don't let her suffer any more of this! I revise, every few minutes I find I don't know what I've read and the tears are wheeling up in my eyes, I cannot see. I just want to cry, because how can this be happening again, how can we not know what will happen, can she get better again, she's older now, can she get through this.

I cry out to God, so many questions and fears in my mind, and I just cry as I listen to the words the Church are singing "now we arrive at eternity's shore, where death is just a memory and tears are no more" and all I can do is let the tears roll down my face and my heart is screaming now "I CAN'T DO THIS!" and then, my mind, but for a second is still, and I hear the words in a whisper "No, you can't, but I can." In that moment of stillness some level of peace enters my heart. I still want to cry, but I know God is there. Yet not for another few hours did I come out of the haze I'd felt in my head for a week, but within 24 I understood. She was better. I didn't quite believe it. I laughed and cried as I heard, this was another kind of miracle. I knew at Church on Sunday, when the haze lifted, when God gave me a fresh sense of purpose, that even if she had gone to Him at that moment it would have been okay, because she'd "arrive at eternity's shore, where death is just a memory and tears are no more."

Release

All the strain and stress passing from my shoulders as a massive wave hits me, a wave that is the love of God, a wave that I've seen coming, of joy and peace, peace and joy, joy and peace, those words spoken over me trice from many corners of this world. For over a month there has been sadness and sorrow and grief so close my heart that I thought it would never fade, and now it is washed away. The power of the love of God invades my heart, break through those chains of sorrow.

My saviour reminded me of who I was, images flashed across my view, images from visions that God has shown me, the dancer, the child strewing rose petals, the holder of a dove, the scribe. Images so powerful, and this power like wings beating above me. "Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by name; thou art mine." Words of scripture in my ears - "you are under the shadow of the wings of the almighty, you dwell here."

As the sun broke through my curtains this morning I felt the warmth and cold of the day all at once. I could not help but dance this morning. As I walked across campus this afternoon I could hardly help but sing. I am suddenly at a place of peace, an invading peace, that dwells so deep within my heart it cannot be taken, only hidden, and so I choose not to hide it.

No longer to fear the death march that comes and is not yet mine. I would not fear my own death for a second, to be with God that I could never fear, but the lives of others lost has been a fear that has no left me, until now. No, that fear is past, I have no power of life and death, I have seen lives saved when my hand guided, but it was not I that did the saving, if life is lost, it was not I that lost it, no, that is not mine.

An Elergy

I was going to leave this, I was planning to write it in a few weeks, but I'm not sure that it can wait, I'm not sure I can sleep until it's written. This is a work of semi-fiction, though barely, most of it memory.

If I looked you in the eye what would I say? I lost you, I think of all the things I would have said, all the things we could have done. We wasted the time, I can still smell your tobacco, the way you'd throw a fresh cigarette away if you saw me coming, not from a sense of shame, but of respect you'd toss it from your fingers. Sitting under that oak, you'd see me from a distance and my pace would quicken as I saw you, our paths converging never planned. What would I say to you if I looked you in the eye? Would I tell you that I loved you? Would I try to explain that you kept me alive? That I considered you my brother?

You were the only one who demanded nothing of me, you were the only one I didn't need to impress, you were the only one who never minded who I was or how I was. The thought of seeing you in that studio got me into school, it took me to a class where I would ignore the punches thrown at me, where I would fight guys twice my size to just get my jacket or my bag back, where I would have to search around the room to find anything.

The only people who stood up for me in those moments - God they might have well as written you a death sentence. They were the closest things I had to friends - they weren't sending me hate mail, pretending to defend me and punching me in the middle of drama undercover of characterisation. Regardless of the lies they spurted they were genuine. They helped you deeper into the world which live life to die. "I don't care if it kills me, none of us do, as long as we've lived for today like we've nothing to lose, I don't give a **** if I die tomorrow neither do they." Her voice echoes in my ears, just like her words when I told her you were gone "he can't be dead, I didn't think he could die." How fast she took back her words, how quickly she didn't mean it.

The courage you and that neo-Nazi classmate of yours gave me, every day you got me there, gave me the strength to get through, what a strange place that was? As I would wander home, standing looking into the water of the canal it was like I saw your face beneath the water, telling me that that poison I imagined, the downing that I dreamed of wasn't mine, because I had tomorrow and might see you again.

Oh and now that is yours, just a shadow of my memory, I begin to forget your voice. I can hardly remember you without regret, save for those long moments drinking coffee, hugging you and burying my face in the leather to smell that memory, laced with aftershave and cigarettes.

What would I say to you? I would tell you without hesitation that I wish I could take away the hurt, that I love you without question or falter, because I do consider you my brother, that I would have brought you back to life if I had thought that I could have. But now it's been well past two years since I saw you, and almost two years since I lost you and I still love you and that will never go away, but now it is time for something new. The memories are not worth the cost of remembering how sometimes I ran to you to escape the rubbish that people were throwing at me, how I felt safe when I was with you, how people didn't try to kick me in the back, the good stays locked in my heart, but those roads no longer walked.

Healing

God heals, physically, emotionally, spiritually, deeply. He takes away pain and suffering and I am just going to take this moment!

Glory, glory, glory to God in the highest heaven, hosanna my heart cries, hosanna my soul calls forth. You are more marvellous than the coming of the dawn, brighter than the sun and more glorious than the wonders of your creation. You are King of all that is within and without this world, your creatures cry to you glorious Father.

I have seen healing that it barely surprises me that my friends back hurts I pray and the pain vanishes. I have seen someone with a broken toe where all the swelling and bruising disappeared. I am a testimony to God's healing grace, physically, emotionally, spiritually and deeply. I live in freedom that I could have never known, but for the grace of God, a freedom that grows every year.

So glory to God in the highest heaven, because that is a song my soul really does cry out.

Of Mice and Men

There is this suddenness that comes over me in the middle of the night, a great desire as I'm about to fall asleep to do EVERYTHING. I want to read everything that has ever been written, I want to know everything that's ever been known, I want to find a way to live in perfect harmony with God, to never find myself turning from Him and His ways and plans. Yet as I fall into that blissful sleep which takes far longer to come than I would ever like, they slip away, like the best laid plans of mice and men falling far away into memory.

I'd like to start waking up like I used to, maybe I need to get the right sleep, I used to bounce, quite literally, out of bed, jumping up and almost run to my bedroom window to draw the curtains and welcome in the sun, in the summer I would throw the window open and declare "Good Morning World." Absorbing the beauty of the day, that it was a fresh new day, my hopes would rise that it would be a good day and I would live like today was the last day I had on this earth, in joy and happiness. I've not lost all of that, but I've lost far too much. Perhaps it's just the way things expand, when hopes are dashed to the ground and knowledge of the horror of this world grows, how the rejection of this world seeps into the soul. Well, it is true that this world has never really had me, however much it tries, it doesn't have a chance, the world doesn't understand me because I don't want this world, I want the one to come, and this world hates me and so I struggle to love it. The more I have love for this world the more my heart is broken, and the more I turn to Jesus the more that heartbreak is healed, because this world and every single person in it, truly does reside in His hands.

Now that's enough for the middle of the night, I must get back to the best laid plans of mice and men that fill my head and maybe eventually sleep and hopefully in the mornings to come awake with a bounce.

God's voice

There are times when I have heard God's voice so clearly that I wonder how I can ignore the command of my saviour. Yet somehow... by some means I manage to forget it. I remember when I was about 16 and I felt so disconnected from God, I knew that I'd felt His presence and love in my life over and again more powerfully than I could have imagined, He's showed me things that blew my mind, things that stunned and shocked me and made me love Him even more, yet here I was feeling like I was the otherside of an ocean. It was during a band practice. I had my 'cello in my arms and all I wanted to do was sit there and cry a flood of tears, I was trying to play and knowing that I couldn't, because right at that moment my playing needed to be worship and I didn't know how at that moment, ever note sounded wrong, my fingers couldn't find their places and the notes sounded so discordant, I was surrounded by musicians who were glorifying God at that moment. I dropped out, I stopped playing, because I didn't know what else to do save sound profane. I started to pray in my heart, I started screaming out to God in the pain I was in, 'how can I do this? how can I face tomorrow? why do I have to walk down the street and have rubbish and rocks hit me? why do I have to go back to that place where I have to wrestle guys twice my strength to just get my pen back from their hands just so I can do my work? where I have to be very aware of what's going on so I can duck before a chair hits my head?' and I was sat there screaming WHY! I needed strength, more strength than I could ever have on my own. Sometimes I had borrowed that strength from the sixthformers, my sisters friends, our matron, but human strength was not enough to face tomorrow, it never could have been.

So there I was, and the guys playing and C's singing filled my ears, and surrounded by that sounds of praise to heaven God entered in, He was right there with me, and I knew in that moment of beautiful clarity that I could face tomorrow, infact I could through it, in joy, because He gave me strength, strength that I could never have imagined. My fingers clasped around my bow again and the notes came, like a crashing wave, I have no idea what I played, but it came into the song with joy and love and adoration, praise to God for filling me at that moment with strength that was unimaginable.

Now I'm sitting here, and I know that some of that borrowed strength died and it grieves my heart, yet I realise, that I live today because God entered in. I survived the yesterday, remarkably, because Jesus Christ saved my life in many many ways. So I look around and I think - He's given me things to do, some really aren't ready yet, but I've chosen my essay topic for next semester already because He spoke to me about all this stuff I own, and He told me really clearly to give it up, not emotional or spiritually (though that does come into play in some cases), but literally, physically. I think when it comes past being able to count how many times He's said 'do this' I think maybe... I should have done it already.

Pax, χαριϲ, Liebe.