Everyday Purpose

If you’ve never experienced the delights of New York City in the height of summer, I would argue that you don’t really know what it means to be hot, sweaty and still smiling. Stickiness just becomes the normal state of being and ‘the humidity’ becomes the most talked about subject until fall begins to ease itself in towards the end of September. Subways turn into cavernous ovens where the general public all spend far longer than their liking waiting for the next train to arrive, each gust of wind or breath of air feeling like a hair dryer is being blasted in your face. When the carriage doors open, there is a rush of pedestrians to escape into the air conditioned car, collectively breathing a sign of relief.There are times, however, when the air conditioning breaks or the cars are so full of bodies that the cold air trying its best to circulate doesn’t stand a chance against the combined body heat. Those are the occasions when I have to take plenty of deep breaths and intercede for the miracle of a quicker arrival at my destination!

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After waiting for twenty minutes in the furnace of 14th St station, my train finally crept in to a halt, the doors opening to a warm and empty carriage. I gratefully secured a seat near one of the doors and resigned myself to further waiting as the train got momentarily held in the station, all the while hot air packing itself into the space around me.Some fifteen minutes later and the train was rolling into 42nd St, soon every remaining seat and inch of standing space quickly taken. A transgender woman came and took the vacant seat to my right, giving me a warm, if not a very heavily intoxicated smile, as she did so. I smiled in return, temporarily distracted by texting my husband whilst I had signal.“Mucho caliente!” My new neighbour began fanning herself with her hands, smiling as she did so, droplets of sweat beginning to form around the outskirts of her face.“Si!” I affirmed her declaration and pressed send on my message.“You are Russian?”I gave her my full attention, “No, English”, I said with a smile.As the train carried us on to the next station, I engaged in a rather simple conversation with my new friend about the different languages she spoke which would be regularly interspersed with exclamations of, “Mucho caliente!”Two stops later and a couple jumped into our carriage moments before the doors closed. The lady immediately groaned as she felt the heat encircle her. Within minutes of pushing out of the station, she had crouched onto the floor panting for breath, her boyfriend trying to help her calm down.“Would you like my seat?” I stood up and gestured to the now empty spot as I gathered my belongings together.“Thank you!” The boyfriend accepted my offer gratefully and reached down to help his girlfriend to her feet.“Here, have some water too”, I reached into my bag and pulled out a bottle.As this transaction was talking place to my left, I suddenly saw the now-limp body of my neighbour fall forward and crash to the floor at my feet. Within seconds there were two collapsed bodies at my feet.“Press the emergency button!” Someone shouted from just next to me.We pulled into the next station.“Get her off the train!” Another voice called as the doors slid open.I helped drag the limp body onto the platform, dumping my bags next to her as I began assessing for signs of life and finding ways to cool her down. The couple also escaped from the overheated train at the same time, the boyfriend carrying his love outside to the slightly cooler night air, her arms and legs swinging as he cradled her.Life returned to the lady next to me on the platform as her eyelids fluttered open and she began to writhe on the concrete floor. I took her hand firmly in mine and began stroking her head, pouring water into her hair to help relieve her temperature, whispering peace into her ears as I did so. She stilled again and fell unconscious.Another concerned passenger stood across from us speaking to emergency services on the phone. A crowd gathered at a respectful distance.Soon two cops in blue joined the tableau at the platform edge, their presence bringing an air of safety and authority to the situation. I continued to hold my patient’s hand and fan her face as she slipped in and out of consciousness.It wasn’t long before the scene was flooded with more officers in blue as well as paramedics. I relinquished her hand to that of a medic who quickly took charge of the situation and affixed an oxygen mask to her face. I joined the group stationed at a respectful distance, answering questions when needed but keeping my focus on my subway neighbour.Eventually she regained full consciousness and sat up with the aid of a paramedic, trying to answer his questions whilst hiding her face behind embarrassed hands. It transpired that drugs, which she had taken earlier that evening, combined with an asthma attack, had been the cause of her collapse. After a few minutes of this interaction, she then suddenly looked up at the small crowd observing her and searched the faces briefly before locking eyes with mine. A brilliant smile spread across her face in childlike thankfulness and she raised a hand to form the thumbs up sign, in greeting and acknowledgement of my presence. I gave her a thumbs up in return, my mouth spreading into a wide grin.It was a brief exchange in the middle of a scene of drama, down in a hot and humid subway station on the west side of Manhattan, but it caught the attention of my heart as I recognized the impact that being seen and valued by another human being has on an individual.When we live with an internal standard and value for honour, we are able to encounter each person with love even if they look different, sound different and live differently to us. We are able to be people of peace in the midst of chaos.A verse was recently highlighted to me and I think it sums up simply and perfectly the point of me sharing this story:

“Take full advantage of every day as you spend your life for His purposes.”

Ephesians 5:16 (The Passion Translation)

Let’s not miss a moment, an opportunity, to show people honour, to show them love and bring peace to the atmosphere around us.

A Mother's Face

Ahead of me, an older Korean lady stood at the base of the stairs in the subway juggling her cane, handbag and wheeled shopping cart between her two hands as she contemplated the ascent in front of her. I approached her with a smile, shifting my own shopping bag to my other hand as I offered to assist her up the steps.“Oh thank you so much! Please, yes, thank you!” Her head bobbed with gratitude and her face lit up with wrinkled thanks.“No problem,” I smiled again as I transported her cart to the top of the staircase. “Would you like help to the street?” I addressed her again as she joined me by the exiting turnstiles.“Oh yes please! Thank you so much! Thank you, thank you!” Her head carried on bopping, her face never once retreating from constant smiles.We walked together towards the exiting flight of stairs, her white linen outfit wafting softly around her short frame, creating an air of peace as she moved. “You are a teacher?”I shook my head, “No”, then tried to think of a simple way to explain my occupation.She beat me to it with another enquiry, “You are a mother?”I smiled and shook my head again, “No, not yet.”“Ohhh, you have the face of a mother!” Her tone was that of an all-knowing seer, allowing no room for disagreement.“Thank you!” I responded with more smiles.Soon we were parting ways, as no more flights of stairs stood in between her and her home, and my long-legged strides quickly created half a block of distance.Her parting words stayed with me as I went about the rest of my day - answering emails, making my lunch, writing a blog entry and readying myself for an evening shift at work. She called me a mother. I have not yet experienced the delight and honour of carrying a baby in my womb but it is something I definitely have a desire to see happen in the not-too-distant future. So I do not yet  know what it really means to be a mother. I have experienced having the heart of a mother but never before have I been told that I have the face of one. It felt profound to me, like there was some deeper, hidden meaning to her comment.At first I felt excited. Maybe she was someone who had a prophetic gift and could see me with children soon - little Joys and Phillips running around with big eyes and wide smiles! Then I pondered a little longer and was struck my another, more existential thought: what do our faces say about each of us? Do I really carry the look of a mother or was that merely a fleeting moment of warmth that I shared with a stranger? Shouldn’t we always carry the face of a mother or father to those around us, friend or foreigner?My husband has voiced similar thoughts to this over the past couple of years in response to the racial violence that has been unearthed afresh in America. Innocent black men and women have been subject to wrongful arrests, shootings and discrimination by both figures in authority as well as members of their local community. Would those stories still exist if those involved had treated each other like an extension of their family? Would those deaths have occurred if the one holding the gun had walked as a mother or father instead of a stranger with a subconscious fear of others? Do we walk around as mothers and fathers or as orphans just trying to protect our self?I hope I always wear the face of a mother and I hope that face is also connected to the heart of one.That dear Korean lady’s words have made an imprint on my heart and mind ever since our brief encounter. I have called myself into check several times when I’ve realised that I’ve drifted into murky territory in my attitude towards others, and let me tell you, it can be easily done living in NYC! But just because something is easy does not justify the action.Both my mum and mother-in-law are stella examples of women who embody the heart of family. I watch them both open their arms wide to people on a regular basis, that many of us would hope to be able to ignore, and they treat them as if they are their own. To me, this is what the face of a mother really looks like. 

There's No Striving In Love

I stood towards the back of the room, my eyes closed, the atmosphere filled with the sound of several hundred voices all joined in song, the well-rehearsed band creating a backdrop of music for their lyrics. I'm fairly sure that by all outward appearances I looked the picture of serenity, however inside, my stomach kept twisting with anxiety. Suddenly a refrain that I had heard sung before began to play in my mind, ordering my thoughts into alignment with peace.

"There's no striving in Your love. "

In a few minutes my husband and I would be walking to the front of the room to share words of encouragement that we felt God had given us for our community. I was battling with a feeling of having to perform when all I wanted to do was what came most naturally to me: love people.

Sometimes, in wanting to be good people and desiring to do the right thing and not fall flat on our faces in the process, we can find ourselves striving for perfection and in doing so fall out of love.Staying in love means we are still able to see one another; we are still able to connect as one human to another.

I began repeating the refrain over and over in my mind, "there's no striving in your love..." We made our way to the front and as soon I stood, with mic in hand, looking out over the sea of faces, I felt at home, the anxiety melted away and I knew I had stepped out of a fear of man and into a heart of love.

You see prior to looking into those beautiful faces, all I had was my imagination of what could happen next...I would stumble over my words, say the wrong thing, offend somebody...That's what fear does. It presents a list of possibilities to us that are founded in deception with the sole purpose of tripping us up, holding us back from really shining in our full potential.

Think about it in relation to someone you are close to: a family member, spouse or best friend. When you are with them you don't have to try to be somebody or something, you simply get to be. When we are in love we no longer have to strive because everything that comes out of us is in the overflow.

Back in the room with my church community, we left the platform and began interacting with people whose hearts and journeys had connected with the few words of encouragement we had brought with us. The rest of the evening began to unfold, like the opening of a flower's petals to the morning light, with such beauty and vulnerability. I watched hope return to people's hearts and witnessed bodies that had been riddled with pain receive healing.

I was in awe and fear was absolutely nowhere to be found.

Caught in the Waiting Room

  Having a dream is like holding a key which has the potential to unlock our future and fill our life with beauty, adventure, love and excitement. There's risk involved though in dreaming, in knowing when the right time is to use it that key and activate the vision. The last decade has taught me the importance of knowing how to wait for my dreams to come through to completion. The Beauty for Ashes Movement took 8 years of patiently waiting until I began to see the first shoots of life begin to spring forth. When you’re in the waiting room for something it can be hard not to go a little bit stir crazy or become overwhelmed with disappointment; you have to maintain hope and a vision of the promise.There’s a passage from the Bible that is at the heart and foundation of the BFAM and our mission to love women into wholeness, it can be found in Isaiah 61:3 where it reads:

‘…bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes…’

I love the whole of this chapter which is alive with God’s promises and vision for justice and restoration as it has caused me to come alive with those same things. Right before Isaiah 61, however, there is Isaiah 60 and the last verse reads:

‘…I am God.

    At the right time I’ll make it happen.’

Essentially, one of the best-known Scriptures, that has helped start numerous movements around the world, is preceded with a reminder that God makes all things come together in their right time and right season. I say this after having walked through my own long season of waiting for my dreams to be fulfilled when many times it felt like I was just being given delay after delay. I definitely shed my fair share of tears, questioned every truth and promise and felt disappointment pierce my heart on several occasions but then things changed and suddenly, with great ease, the dreams of my heart started to become a reality.I’ve learnt that the time I spent waiting was actually a time that God was continuing to build the vision within me and mature my heart to be able to contain it. It wasn’t years wasted but rather years invested.We all have visions, dreams, passions that stir our hearts and cause us to come alive. They are promise seeds to be planted in good soil and benefited with the time and care which will allow them to grow and burst forth. Your dreams will come to pass even if your current circumstances deem them impossible right now. The intricacies of your life journey do not spell out ‘mistake’ or ‘failure’ they display beauty, strength and someone who is wholeheartedly going after their individual purpose and destiny no matter the obstacles they may face.Some dreams occur overnight and others marinate for years before you even see a hint of their existence but, either way, there is always a ‘suddenly’! So I dare you to keep dreaming, purposing, hoping and believing because it will come to pass in its perfect time.