You could have been mistaken for a wet kitten

But last night I spotted you

Puddles and Streetlights

Sirening for help you lay

Lonely as the last parked car.

I wish they could have known you

That night Mummy rolled scarlet on her lips

Tightening bra strap like they were a corset

Begging body to squeeze sizes smaller into a seductive cocoon

Set to fluidly move hips and accept drinks until

men became liquid

and he did.

He was all charm

Careful hands clasping foreign fingers like a first date

Whispered favourites and allergies and giggled

He was allergic to cats

Warring with the vibrations of the blues

the club speakers shouted

his lies won the race to her ear drums

and they raced to the cab.

When she woke her dress resembled an animal at the foot of the bed

He was allergic to cats

In that moment she understands why they call it the mourning after pill

Grief suffocates her stomach and shaky hands replace the all black dress

She doesn’t remember your fathers face

or his name

Just his allergies

I wish they could’ve known you

Hidden between skyscrapers and highlighted by a street lamp

you lay beautifully frozen

Having been bitten by December’s teeth and spat out amongst it’s rain

She would’ve called you Catherine

He’d have nicknamed you Cat

Admittedly I haven’t known this phenomenal couple long. But they have taken me in like family and I seriously don’t know what I would’ve done without them. Spending time with Jade has taught me SO much and if I ever become a fraction of the woman she is, flip. I will be amazing. They have shown me that real love is a story. They are funny. They drink tea. They are incredible. 

For Barry and Jade James, on your wedding day. 03.11.12

My life is divided

Before you and after you

andI don’t really remember before you

before having you at the other end of my name

before I became a part of the greatest tag team ever

Seventeen has evaporated into horizons

this isn’t college

and we no longer send whispers down phones

hiding ‘I love you’s and ‘I miss you’s from parents

but you are yet my best friend

and you,

you have become my mirror

I never used to see you

I didn’t understand your eyes

your voice was a reckless teenage dare

your feet ran with mine the day

we thought we’d been caught kissing

your hands nervously holding mine

like my palm was a newborn

then I knew you

then you became my treasure chest

my secret keeper

I could faintly see my reflection in your eyes

your eyes which knew how to cue butterflies on command

your fingers tickled music and  

we created melodies

your mouth sung promises and

your hands

your hands placed a ring on mine.

and now

you have become my mirror

now your eyes are home

your smile curls into a laugh perfectly synchronized with mine,

our humour siamese

your feet are tired, having piggybacked for years

and my tears have oceaned your shoulders

but your arms are my treehouse

I climb into you and we escape

and your hands,

your hands are the hands of my son

the hands I held

the hands I’m holding

the only hands I’ll ever hold

and the more I look in this mirror

the more I’m sure that

with you as my reflection

it only gets more beautiful from here

Last month I moved to Manchester. I hadn’t been there many times prior to the move, and to be fair I’d just assumed “city = must be a bit like London”. Wrong. The only other time I ever remember having a culture shock as great as this one is my first time in India. This wasn’t quite on the same scale of claustrophobic streets of staring men and poverty screaming at you, but nonetheless I have been welcomed by rain. Every single day.  Manchester’s a lot smaller (obviously) and cuter than London. People have accents. Lunch is dinner and dinner is tea and tea is a brew. I don’t know how to feel about this. But one thing I’ve realised is that you have to adapt to fit in. No matter how ridiculous I think I sound, saying I’ve just had dinner at 1pm is going to cause confusion.

The culture at Audacious City Church (where I’m doing a year’s internship) is a lot like this. You sort of have to just go with it. Now, just so you know I am so far from perfect. Coming from an overdose in gossip, anger, bitterness, moodiness, travelling 200 miles north to this also not-perfect place really highlighted how much junk needed to be removed from my life. Because if I don’t do it, of course, I’ll still be human and people are still understanding but, I won’t fit in with the culture.

It’s hard to believe, (sounding like a complete sceptic) that gossip isn’t a normal part of conversation among people, that conflict is quickly dealt with and the way everyone seems so happy all the time is almost irritating. But a month in and they’re still the same. It also makes everyone a lot more trustworthy, not that I have anything to tell anyone because… any gossip will get shut down. Lol. The result of this is, I have to change. I have to grow up and confront people instead of just talking about them. I have to snap out of it when I wanna have a moan and I am determined to be a happy-all-the-time person! Because if you’re gonna go and live in a new place with a new culture, you can’t bring your old culture with you. Yes, I’m still trying to remain true to words like gassed and peak and i miss the sound of beautiful London accents… But I’m happy to be consumed by a culture which I have no choice but to succumb to. 

This isn’t to glorify myself. Or even to glorify the church I’m in. Romans 12:2 - Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 

This is it, it means we have got to think about what we’re thinking about and try and think how God thinks… about everything. But not conforming to what seems normal in the world isn’t just a command God told us to do to make us feel left out. God doesn’t do stuff for the sake of it. There’s so much purpose in being counter cultural. The second part of the verse reads, Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. One thing I’ve noticed is that the more you put effort into carrying yourself in a way pleasing to God, the more enjoyable life is. There’s more clarity in hearing His voice and way more intimacy in general. God begins to give you his heart more and more and it in turn makes you the best version of yourself because every day you decide to go against the norms of this messy world you’re getting closer to the You He made you to be.

So basically, shout out to every amazing person I have met this month who has challenged my faith and walk more than I could’ve predicted. I feel like a baby fish swimming in an ocean right now but I’m so grateful. I have much to learn and I am excited to be completely consumed by this kingdom culture.

To be continued…

I wanted to let you know it’s okay to wear trainers.
And in Summer, don’t bother with foundation.
Let spotty skin and eye bags be proof of just how human you are.
Dye your hair if you want, but it it goes wrong, laugh.
When people ask ‘Why did you DO that?’ tell them you wanted to.
Let your eyelashes breath once in a while and if they say you look tired, confidently let them know you’ve had nine hours sleep thank you very much.
Paint your nails into a rainbow.
But remember chipped nails look tacky.
Decide if you care about looking tacky.

Your Daddy probably won’t let you have a boyfriend but if you do, love with caution.
For you are stunningly naive.
You find the beauty in a murderer, smile at terrorists and see the world in colour.
You are deaf to prejudice but baby, keep your heart in your pocket, it doesn’t belong on your sleeve.
Lies will be spread.
Misunderstandings will grab each finger, point them at you and when you try to scream innocence, your voice will be drowned like a nightmare.
You will do wrong.
You will hurt people.
But do not attach it to your name.
Do not throw punches to your face or bruise your esteem but let ‘sorry’ ring speedily from your lips.
And when it does, you may have to wait.
So wait.
But in the waiting, don’t be afraid to dive in the sky.
Do not let unforgiveness chain you. Fly.

Because in trainers and with chipped nails, messy make up and split ends, you will change this world
With a messy reputation and a broken heart, you are breathing.
And each time I see you run despite scarred knees and shattered dreams, you remind me a lot of your mother.
So run baby, run.

What time is it?

I am so bad with punctuality. I’m unfortunate, trains are always delayed, I miss buses etc but really I never give myself enough time. I’m getting a lot better these days yeah, but when I know I have to be up early I often toss and turn through the night, continuously grabbing my phone to check what time it is. 3am. 4am. 5am. 6am. 7am. 10am. Late. That’s usually how it goes. But when you’ve got places to be, knowing the time is SO important.  

I’ve finished university. I work part time and pretty much have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing, that’s the truth. I have been forced to ask God that very same question, ‘What time is it?’

At first, it was a brief asking, overwhelmed with my plans, my ideas, my contributions. Almost as if I was asking Him to be polite but totally set on doing things my way. That FAILED.

I gathered, God probably isn’t gonna immediately tell me my entire future. I’d been so busy seeking God for his ‘plan’ for my life I’d missed the beauty of this plan. It already has begun. It’s not some future thing that we have to work our way toward, which only begins at 30. His plan is our every day lives. The daily tasks He gives us. Whether its time to read, time to evangelise, time to meditate, time to write songs. All of that good stuff. 

Fortunately, this takes a WHOLE LOAD of pressure off us. Forget ten years from now (to some degree). Wake up and ask God ‘what time is it?’ and focus on his plan for your today.

Yesterday was incredible!! Firstly I got lost which was frustrating. All these roads look exactly the same! In fact, I have to leave soon and I STILL don’t think I know the way! Uh oh!
But on a better note, we headed off to Julian Middle School to lead a workshop for extremely hyperactive 11-14 year olds! It was so much fun, gettin in groups and teaching them how to write poetry in the shortest space of time. Reading a young guy’s work, I felt like I was in Freedom Writers or something lol! But I’m realising the struggles and pressures young people face are so universal, and with the way many of them have seen death in the face, leaves them questioning life and pretty fearful. That was my groups piece title; ‘I am scared’.
In less than a few hours I was up on a stage in front of 400 of them hosting a showcase, so aware of my accent, which sounds more posh than anything ! But it was seriously fun! Watching our groups perform pieces they’d just put together and hearing them feedback on the session was one of the most rewarding things I’d ever done. Just a simple thing, like a kid saying how sad they are you’re leaving, or how nice they think you are, I can’t even explain how it feels to know I made a difference! :)

I’m not an idiot.
With self esteem as high as my english grades
but today i’m found smoothing innocent fingers over a silk sheet of deceit
airbrushing my better judgement
page 24. curves are in.
bathing suits to suit the abstract figure of fat
the zero percent bodied princess.
like she, caressing my eyes on the cover.
curves are in, but they’d never be a headliner
or they’d be hidden amongst yesterday’s newspaper
not to be sold today.
or ever.
the irony of celebrity diets.
thought weight loss was optional but metabolism is a mystery
scolding calories for a definition.
curves aren’t in. who are they kidding?!
the obvious knowledge of phony girls in the pictures
whose mornings hide from the camera
the double life of a fraternal model.
i don’t usually care.
but i’m an artist all over my face
stretching my eyelashes and cementing my skin
amazing what a black line under an eye can do
embarrassed by our natural selves, we blush at the dab of a brush
the permanent fashion trend of a dolly
polka dotted acne, out.
leopard print blemishes, out
the cutest bags, worn under the eye, out.
i’m unfashionable.

presents shouldn’t be opened on Christmas Eve.
I’ll wait until my wedding day.
i am so fed up with skipping pages, to dodge past their lies.
told exactly how to pummel my amplified lashes.
the fixed second to pour a laugh unto his ego.
handcuff my fingers from texting him, I sit and wait for HIS call.
they told me to.
‘25 things you do that guys secretly love’
Being me wasn’t one of them.

see, we protest against their orders, but pay their salary.
Vow we long to be unique
but thirst after their stale advice.
can’t stand on our beautiful feet, so we wear footless tights.
just as they said, skinny jeans on fat legs.
the suffocating fashion of today.

not enough fabric to cover the skin,
but enough to cover the sparkle
until we’re all invisible
because they’re just cloning women
and next year we’ll appreciate unnatural beauty more than ever.
see, i’m really not an idiot
with self esteem as high as my english grades,
i’m an ANTM expert
specialist in the secrets of lies
but i’m still found smoothing innocent fingers over a silk sheet of deceit.
Airbrushing my better judgement.

I don’t know what I’ve done more of so far, eat or write? Both seem to have made up yesterday’s day entirely! And the food is so amazing I could genuinely dedicate this entire week to blogging about it.
Had brunch at Prasino’s, this yummy restaurant and then we set off to Peter’s apartment, (he’s a teacher here and the main coordinator of the trip) to have a day of writing! I learnt loads, probably a good compensation for missing a week of uni. It made me so much more aware of what I write and why and how i write it…and I genuinely was challenged to start thinking harder, reading more and scribbling better than I’d ever done before.
We spent the whole day writing; I’ve never really done that before, then we went out for dinner…to eat again! Wooo! I’m aware of how fat I sound but oh well! I’ve never eaten a pizza so filling?! It was weird…a slice and I was done!

Okay, so that wasn’t the most insightful or interesting post to anyone probably other than my parents lol. But it was really good! We’re taking a few lessons in schools this week too, so we planned for that! It’s seriously good stuff, I can’t wait :)

As I sit here drinking tea and eating fresh blueberry muffins…ohhhh yeaaaah!

Basically, I’ve had a crazy opportunity to go to CHICAGO on Friday with a team of great people to do loads of exciting things, run poetry workshops in schools, perform at some serious events! I’m not doing this in a pretentious way like I think I’m super famous and have a ton of people following my life, but I do know people wanna know exactly what we get up to, so I’ll do my best to write it all up in an exciting way :)

About 6 months ago, I would’ve never done something like this; just hop on a plane and go! But I’m learning, life is short; take every opportunity you get, it’s definitely time I started creating some adventures! ;)

I haven’t written in the longest time, I find it a bit cringe even writing that. But it’d be more awkward if I just posted without acknowledging it, and people are starting to ask why I’ve quit.

Sometimes we set ourselves challenges with things we enjoy, other times it starts off as something we enjoy and then slips into something we do religiously. Like blogging every Friday. And what was once a joy to do now becomes a session of sitting at my computer, begging God for a creative revelation I can impart into people’s lives. It loses the fun.

Our walks with God can be JUST like that, it starts off wonderful. And we love reading His word on a regular basis and hearing from Him. But the minute it slips from doing it out of an overflowing of love and becomes the ‘thing you have to do because you love God’, it loses the fun. 

I believe we are saved by grace. This means there is nothing we can do to earn our salvation, no amount of prayers a day or chapters per week will do it. I’d encourage you (and me), stop reading your Bible out of a worry that if you don’t, you won’t be a Christian…chill out. Just get back to the place where you enjoy the journey, if it’s a little bit a day, like this 3 paragraph blog, that’s fine too. Just do it out of love.

:)

I’d been playing Netball, was tired and all I wanted was to be at. So you can imagine how I felt as I stuck my hand out for the bus and it whizzed past me. It wasn’t even full?! Somehow the bus driver obviously had a personal vendetta against me and was set on making my day even worse. Of course, I looked stupid too. There were loads of people staring at my pathetic attempt to get on the bus and well yeah, it was a bit embarrassing.

The third bus stop along for this bus wasn’t far from me. In that moment I had a choice. I could either wait for the next bus, sulking, annoyed, prolonging my journey even more or I could run. It would be a risk, I might not even make it. I thought about it for a few seconds, knowing I was losing valuable sprinting time and then I just DID it. I sprinted my tired legs off, ran down the road and got to the stop WAY before the bus, having time to compose myself and casually walk on (like a G). 

We all have these mini choices in life, to decide whether to be defeated by something or to keep fighting, regardless of feeling like we don’t want to. And it is in these fighting moments that we grow. In fact, every single time you do what is right and what should be done, even when your feelings are telling you otherwise; you are growing. 

Once I’d started running, it was easy, and often it isn’t the actual action that’s the hard part, it’s the getting up and doing it. Because being bitter, lazy, miserable, and not being bothered all feeds our flesh. Make a stand today, when everything within you is saying that you don’t want to, get up and run! And I guarantee once you’ve made that choice, you’ll get to your destination with a cheeky grin of satisfaction on your face, just as I did.