Michaelmas to Lent.

I feel as though I have an immense amount to fill you in on! I haven't been very proactive in maintaining a regular interest in this blog, so I apologise. I'll try and get better at it.

But I do really mean it, a lot has happened since my last post. More than anything, looking back on my rather eventful first term (a skin infection, a dislocated knee, a subsequent leg in plaster and a slight case of concussion - thank goodness God was with me or who knows what else could've happened!) I've come to notice that intertwining my sexuality and my faith within my lifestyle as a student at Lancaster has been much harder than I'd anticipated. The gulf between the two worlds is still incredibly large and very visible; so much so, that I've heard members of each respective 'side' criticize the other, and in some cases I can hardly argue against them. Not all cases, of course, but I have yet to challenge any comments made. I feel cowardly and stupid, for these aspects of my identity are crucial and of so much importance and relevance in my life. But what kind of reception would I get? In my mind (which is prone to jumping to worst case scenarios now and again) coming out within my church community might ostracize me and provoke comments and opinions that, quite frankly, I'd rather not hear again. On the other hand, if I was to state my religious beliefs amongst the gay and feminist communities that I'm part of, I'd probably receive an equally frosty and challenging reception. Clearly, I might be exaggerating, and completely underestimating the people I've gotten to know over the last few months. However I believe that my position on this only more vehemently indicates the ongoing conflict between the two communities, and highlights the pain and anger that has been caused in the past by this conflict that is still very present and active in the lives of young people in particular.

Despite this issue, it hasn't stopped me enjoying the opportunities I've had in getting with involved with these groups and societies. Unfortunately, the knee injury that I mentioned before has prevented me from rejoining the women's rugby team, and from playing contact sports entirely for the foreseeable future. This has been quite a blow for me, as anyone who knows me well will know how much I love participating in sport and being part of a team, so being told I can't do this anymore has been crippling. Nevertheless, with my gym membership now active, I've been trying to get down and use the (oh so amazing) facilities that the university's sports centre has to offer, in the hope that I might be able to strengthen my knee joint and play again some time in the future, whilst also trying to get my fitness back to what it was (although it wasn't very impressive in the first place, let's be honest - maybe I can make some progress beyond what I'm used to!). Just this week I've also managed to secure a job at the sports centre's swimming pool, assisting in swimming lessons like I used to do back at home for so many years. I haven't got any regular hours yet, just filling in wherever they need me, but I'm hoping it will lead to something permanent in the future. It's a job, anyway; I'm definitely not complaining!

Instead of throwing all of my energy into sport, I've had the chance to get involved in other things that I otherwise wouldn't have had the time to pursue. I've been trying to get to church every Sunday morning; the church I'm currently trying to make a regular commitment to is called Moorlands Evangelical Church, and I've already made several friends have that supported me through my turbulent last term. It has a lot of provisions for students, and even though the church itself consists of a mixture of families, students and older people there is a lot of emphasis on helping students make the best of their time at university, and encouraging them to live as Christians within student culture. The bible teaching each week is incredible, and although I sometimes find it hard to stay awake due to a late night beforehand, I still learn a lot! It's refreshing to be able to listen to a new perspective on aspects of the Bible that I've never heard before, which is something I appreciate about having the freedom to attend the church that appeals to me the most. Not that I'm knocking my own church communities back at home - you're all wonderful! But as I've had to understand through moving to new a place, different is nearly always good.

I'm also currently involved in a production called the 'Vagina Monologues'. For those of you who don't know what it is, I've enclosed a link above just in case my description doesn't do it justice! Basically, it is a play constructed in the form of a series of monologues, written and compiled by Eve Ensler and a number of women that she interviewed. The common theme is, of course, the vagina, and different experiences that women have had surrounding their sexuality, and each monologue conveys a different experience, ranging from rape to birth, from heterosexual to homosexual to transsexual experience, and just mere appreciation of the vagina and female sexuality. It is funny, harrowing, emotional, and above all a celebration of the female gender and identity. Not only it is a play, though; it has also led to the V-Day campaign, a global movement that campaigns around issues such as violence against women and girls, and female equality. In support of this cause, Lancaster does a performance of the Monologues every year using the monologues that originally Ensler compiled, and has done for twelve years previously, and fund-raises to support a local organisation that fights or provides for women's rights.

At first I thought I'd missed my chance to be a part of this inspiring movement this year, due to my injury, but I was lucky enough to have a conversation with one of the directors during a LGBT workshop (a society that I've also been getting involved in) on a day that one of the performers dropped out, so I got a part! Having never even seen the play being performed before, I feel incredibly privileged and excited to be so directly involved this year, performing alongside many amazing and wonderful women. Now I'm definitely no actress, and learning my lines has been quite an experience, so I hope I do them the justice they deserve! But, as someone said a few rehearsals ago, this play isn't like any other play, and any imperfections that we make only contribute to the imperfections of women themselves, imperfections that we're celebrating, because we're know we're not perfect. So that takes the pressure off a bit!

In terms of my studies (yes, I'm doing a degree as well, I forget that sometimes), it's going okay. English is good, the lectures are really interesting and the materials we're studying are so rich and wonderful! But, because our first year is just an 'over-view' year to ease everyone in, we never really get the chance to explore a specific topic before we move onto the next one. And don't get me started on the department; one thing I've learnt at university is that as a kid you think that adult institutions and businesses operate so smoothly and are so incredibly organised, but in reality they're really not! And my tutor is cute, he's a Swedish guy called Johan and he attached packets of Haribo to our first essays when he gave them back to us - but have I learnt anything from him? Probably not. Oh well, I guess it's a learning curve for him too!

My minor subjects that I have to do this year are going a little better; EPR (ethics, philosophy and religion for those of you like my dad who keep forgetting what it is) is enriching and challenging, to an extent that I really have to concentrate to understand half of what the lecturer is saying most of the time! But it keeps me on my toes, so that's good. Gender Studies is less challenging in a way but just as interesting, and continues to add fuel to my feminist ideals through our exploration of how gender affects different elements of the society we live in.

I've started sharing meals with my housemate Alex this term as well, to make surviving a bit easier for both of us. I thought I'd attach a photo of when I made shepherd's pie for us whilst she was at a lecture, as it was my turn to cook - the mince was a bit frazzled, and there was definitely more cheese than potato, but overall not a bad first attempt!

So that's my update, really. I'm sure I have lots more to tell you that I'll think of later, so I'll be back soon! Much love and stuff.

18 going on 30.

Some people are born to be teenagers. Some people are born to be students. Some people never want to grow up, and stay younger forever. But a rare few quite like the idea of getting that little bit older, of slowing the pace of life down before it has time to get started.

Me, I think I was born to be middle-aged.

Now I'm saying with no personal insight into what it's like to be middle-aged; being 18, I haven't reached that point yet. But that's the thing; stating my age just then felt like a confession, a revelation of a hidden truth that I'm not accustomed to people knowing. Its like I'm a tiny bit ashamed to be so young, because I've never felt like I can claim that I live (or want to live) the life of a typical 18 year old in the Western world. I don't deserve this youth, because I don't utilize it enough, I don't take advantage of the fact that my mind and body are a lot sharper than they're going to be in only a few years' time (well, my mind in any case, my body is actually falling apart at the minute, but at least it's healing fast). How on earth can I be 18, when in reality I'd rather be 30?

What I mean by this is that I'd much rather stay in and finish the book I'm reading/film I'm watching/actually sleep than go out and dance the night away in a club, whilst being completely wasted, and waking up to a multitude of embarrassing photos than convey exactly why I don't remember any of the events that were captured happening at all. I like structure, I like routine, I like clean clothes and a (relatively) tidy room and three meals a day and movie nights and a weekly night at the pub. Goodness, this middle-aged affliction is worse than I thought.

In my mind, all of these things that I try to instate into my daily student life manifest themselves as the life I'm aspiring to have in the future. Similarly, all the things I try and avoid - going out every night, not remembering how I got home, forgetting to eat/surviving on Pot Noodles for weeks, leaving work to the last minute, spending every valuable moment watching Vine videos - I associate with the life I should be wanting to lead, the youthful and care-free student life. Don't get me wrong, that last description really is my life (more so than I care to admit) but its getting on my nerves already and I've only been here a month! Give me a tub of Ben and Jerry's and Titanic over a night out any day, I'm begging you.

This sense of guilt I've been feeling has made me think though; am I really just having this premature yearning to be middle-aged and boring, or is this just another of society's stereotype games trying to push me into a box, dictating who I'm supposed to be and how I'm supposed to act? We all know that student life is largely based around a heavy drinking culture. A lack of order is to be expected, and on several occasions I've found myself exaggerating how much I've drank and how little I've slept, just to adhere to this strange sense of normality within the typical student existence. I wonder, do most students genuinely want to get utterly pissed each night, or do they just feel a need to conform, to get ready and go out with the rest of their flatmates who always seem to be more up for it than they are?

It might just be me, and my weird set of life ambitions. I'm constantly plagued by the feeling that I absolutely have to get the most out of life, and be liked by everybody, and at the moment the easiest way to satisfy both of those needs is by going out and getting drunk and 'having a good time'. I'm not intending to slate alcohol, by the way, and occasionally I do have a brilliant night out. But, just for once, I'd love to go out because I actually want to, and I'd love to be able to have a good time without the need to get myself as intoxicated as possible in the shortest amount of time.

My student moan is over now! I'll fill you in with all the more enthusiastic and uplifting details of student life soon. I'm now off to climb into my freshly washed bedsheets - and I think after all that ranting I still feel a little too guilty for being so excited about that. 

I'm a Fresher!

As of about six hours ago, I have now been a full-time, undergraduate, Lancaster University Freshers student. On the one hand, this week has gone much faster than I thought it would. I mean, my first week of living on my own has been and gone, how is that possible?! On the other hand though, somehow I have packed so many subject talks and free pizza leaflets and empty cider bottles into this week, I feel like I've already been here for years.

It was a bit weird to start with; I'm living with eleven other people at the moment (in the UK's best University accommodation for 4 years' running, just thought I'd mention it) so the first few days were incredibly overwhelming. My housemates are all very different and very wonderful people! I'll no doubt be talking about them lots over the next year.

After my parents and sister left me in my room, it did start to hit me that I'd really done it. I'd moved out, I'd started a new part of my life. And right now it's also dawning on me that I've survived my first week here; I've cooked several meals (albeit some took considerably more preparation than others), joined a few societies, been on a few nights out, even met a few people outside my house and college, and took part in the student women's rugby trials today, which were really relaxed and involved a pint afterwards - always good! It's my last official freshers night out tonight, I've got my first ChurchSearch destination tomorrow, and then my lectures start on Monday. Surely then, if I've got this far, I can definitely make it to the end of this year. Fingers crossed!

I am missing my family and friends back home though; I'm hoping my sister is going to come up and see me soon, and my girlfriend is coming up next week - it's been really hard not seeing her regularly. It's not quite the same, and it's still something I'm adjusting to.

As for the whole gay thing, well, I didn't think it was going very well at first. I was crushed on my first night when our Freshers' Reps started calling the female president of the LGBT club 'the Beast', and no one seemed particularly up for stopping using the word 'fag' when I asked them not to. However, as the week has gone on, people have started to ask me about my girlfriend after I casually slipped her into conversations a few times, and a few girls have even said that I should tell them if anyone gives me trouble about it next week. I'm sure it'll be fine, just as everything else has gone much more smoothly than I could ever imagined.

It's funny, I rarely tend to notice God's presence when each second is speeding past me and I'm in the thick of the moment - but always, in retrospect, I can see how much He helps me through every day. Some would call it coincidence, some would say I got through this week as well as I have through my own strength. But you definitely wouldn't be saying those things if you'd seen me the night before I left! No, God has been next to me through this entire week. Reflection is a good way to stop me doubting.

Now I need to get ready before I go out one last time this week; it is by far not the last time I will ever go out this year! But I have a feeling I'm going to need a serious boost in energy to keep me going tomorrow. I'll let you know how on getting I'm soon.

God bless :)

Change.

Forcing excitement is hard. Trying to remain positive is hard. Willing yourself into actively taking in the good things that people say about a situation is hard. It shouldn't be, I shouldn't be feeling like this, I should be raring to go. But I'm not, and that's making me feel guilty, and that's even harder.

I've never been good with change. I like routine, I like feeling rooted. Goodness, I sound autistic! Not that that's a bad thing, but to be honest I don't think I'm far off though anyway. Moving to university and saying goodbye to friends collectively is the biggest change I've had to go through so far in my life, and the biggest challenge. I keep having to remind myself that yes, everyone else is in the same boat, and yes, God has gone before me and I'm going to be fine. But I still feel broken and unprepared and totally not ready for what's about to happen. What's happening, what's in motion, what I'm most powerless to stop.

It took me such a long time to feel accepted, both in who I am and within the different groups and places in my life that I belonged to. Now its as if I'm going back into the darkness and confusion that I felt stuck in when I was 13; it's not like the way that I'm different is something that I can turn on and off for someone else's liking or preference. To find a church I can settle into, to find a group of friends I can trust, I might have to compromise, put myself in a box, lose who I am. Honestly, I don't know where my sense of identity has gone right now and I haven't even left yet, how am I going to cope when I get there?

I know where some of it has gone. My heart left in Birmingham, my left arm all the way down in Southampton, my right leg soon to be travelling all the way to Florida, and it probably won't be coming back. These people accept me, and love me, somehow, and I feel incredibly fortunate and humble that they do. It's got to be a hard job loving me! I just don't know how I'm going to find other people who will, and I don't know what I'm going to do without the ones who already do.

I'm aware I'm rambling a bit. This post doesn't really have a direction, much like my thoughts and I at the moment. But I need to get this out, as pathetic as it is, and if I say it out loud I'll cry again and that just won't help anything!

I was watching 'The Great Gatsby' today, the new one with Leonardo DiCaprio in it, and it got me thinking back to all the subtext discussed when me and the rest of my A Level English group read the book two years ago. I came to the scene where Gatsby knocks the clock off Nick's mantelpiece, and remembered the metaphorical significance that we'd been so interested to discover as class at the time. Gatsby, having been separated from the love of his life for five years, simply wanted to pick up the pieces from the past and start again where they left off, as if he could reform the past again. Hence, breaking the clock would freeze the time on it; but, no matter what he did to the clock, time would never turn back, and he would never regain the time lost and be able to live as he once had.

I spend forever looking backwards, like Gatsby I guess. These last few years have been wonderful, particularly the last year with my girlfriend and my closest friends, and I'd give anything to be sitting back in an RS class on a Friday afternoon again. But I can't. Looking forward, of course, means change, and its the only way to go. I have no choice, I have to keep going. but things where so good then, how can they ever be any better?

Everything hurts, its like my whole body is struggling against this change too. I don't know how long I can take this for. I don't know how to feel. I want out. I can't do this. 

The Red Pill.

In less than a month, I shall be leaving for university. I have no clue as to where my summer has gone. It seems, as per usual, change is creeping up on me at a pace that I'm both uncomfortable with and powerless to stop.

My grades were fairly good, and despite a slight bit of drama on the day I'm now actually going to Lancaster. It doesn't feel real, and I guess it won't until my parents drive back home and leave me there. I'm imagining that it might feel like the time when I took part in a German Exchange programme with my school a few years ago; I got into the car with the mother of my German host, and suddenly the friends and teachers that I trusted (and spoke English) were fading away and it dawned on me quite heavily that I was alone, in a foreign country, with people I didn't know, and there was nothing I could do to get out of it. I got myself (willingly, somehow) into this situation, so I had to see it through, albeit with gritted teeth and the little German I'd remembered from my classroom that was even further away than my friends.

I'm sure it won't be that dramatic this time. But that's the thing; I'm the eldest child, and I have absolutely no idea what to expect from this experience. I'm sure it'll be fine, as most things are, as I am when I eventually get used to things. It's just a little disconcerting that most of my friends are incredibly excited by the 40p Ikea kitchen utensils and 2 for 1 Pizza Hut vouchers that have presented themselves with our university acceptances, and not one of them is as nervous as I am.

I have to keep actively reminding myself that God is going with me, as He goes with me everywhere. It's at times like these though that the lack of God's physical presence seems to grow larger than His spiritual presence; I hate writing these doubts down, I feel like I should be satisfied with everything God gives me but sometimes the fear takes hold and the certainties you had before seem absurd now and nothing makes sense anymore.

I'm praying I'll meet a Christian on my first day. I'm praying that no-one will have an issue with the fact that I might attend the LGBT events and the Christian Union. I'm praying that I'll find a church I can feel comfortable and accepted in, and that I'll find it fairly soon. I'm praying that I'll find a job too, and a few solid friends, and a variety of good friends, and that I won't lose myself during Freshers Week, and that I love my course, and that I don't have too many books to read, and that I don't die of food poisoning or run out of money in my first week. And I'm praying that God will open doors and perhaps use me and my insecurities in ways that I haven't even dreamed of yet.

So even though I'm doubting that God is actually present, I'm still asking for quite a lot of things. I'm a bit of an idiot really. How can we be so flawed, and yet ask for so much? How can God even look at us and how tainted we've become, let alone listen to us? His grace astounds me every day. It shouldn't be true. it's too good a reality to exist. But He does.

People argue that a world without God is by far a better place; its better to have no God rather than a God who allows suffering to happen and who controls our lives like a relentless and detached puppetmaster. But can't anyone see? He has to deal with all of us at our worst, full of sin and hatred and human imperfection, yet still He loves us. And this isn't just love as we understand it, beautiful but sometimes a bit unreliable and limited, centered around the giver and not the receiver; no, the love that God has for us is completely unconditional, faultless to the point that we could never hope to return it in the same way but He doesn't expect it back. He died for us, Jesus was crucified and experienced the worst pain imaginable so that we wouldn't have to know what it felt like ourselves, even though we deserve it ten times over.

How on earth can we argue, therefore, that the world would be a better place if Jesus hadn't died for us? If God hadn't shook the world by its shoulders on that day and sacrificed himself out of a burning love for us? How do people survive, how do they breathe without it? How do they sleep at night believing that only darkness waits for them after falling from death's precipice? How can they stand living in a world that is void of any true, unfailing light that can't even be touched, let alone dimmed or overshadowed?

I used to think I knew what life was like for a time without God, but I had no idea. I just wanted to rule the world without thinking of the terrifying consequences that came with the notion that I didn't have a clue about what was best for me. I'll hold my hands up and admit it, I need God more than I'll ever need anything, and if that makes me weak in the eyes of some then so be it. But you just watch me rise with God by my side, and you won't say it then, because truly I am weak but it is God who makes me strong.

It is this strength that I'm going to need over the next few months, and its not going to come from alcohol or money or new clothes. I just need to keep reminding myself of that! I'm just overwhelming fortunate that my God is patient enough to put up with the times when I forget He's with me, and He knows what's best.

My girlfriend said a few months back that, being an Atheist, she felt like she'd 'taken the red pill' for those of you who have seen the Matrix, and believed that she lived in the reality that God didn't exist, and everything I believed in wasn't real. I completely respect what she thinks, and the fact that she has her own opinion on just about everything is something that attracted me to her in the first place (hiding your opinions in a Religious Studies class isn't really an option). But, in my opinion, I'm the one that swallowed the red pill, and reality isn't half as bad as the Matrix makes it out to be, let me tell you. Reality doesn't have to be a cold and harsh concept; reality is Jesus, and it's about as warm and hopeful as it gets here. Not the all the time, for don't get me wrong, life is hard, but living with a belief in Jesus is living with a permanent silver lining in your heart, and it''s pretty good.

I'm aware I've been rambling for quite a while now; it's nice to splurge your insecurities and thoughts every now and again, but not everyone wants to know about it! I apologise if everything you've just read makes no sense too. Let me know, and I'll try and explain it a bit better. But, yes, take the red pill, people. It's worth it.

Angels.

There were unfortunately no gay-related seminars or talks at Soul Survivor, which I was a bit disappointed about. But as well as aiming to equip myself for University and later life, I also had another short-term aim to focus on. I'd been asked to speak at Vitalise on the following Sunday after I got back (when I say speak, I mean preach, but I'm not using the word 'preach' as I've realised it doesn't have a lot of positive connotations with people!). This would be the first time I'd ever talked on my own, as I'd spoken with another wiser and much more able person before, but it had never just been me at the front! It was regarding the subject of leadership and humility within Philippians 2, what it means to be humble, and how Jesus complete turned our view of leadership on its head when he lived as a human among us.

Funnily enough, the first seminar at Soul Survivor I attended on women in leadership used Philippians 2 as the first evaluated passage, which made me smile! Here's the passage, and if anyone is interested in reading my notes then let me know!


The talk itself didn't go too badly; I felt like I lost it a bit halfway through and kept repeating myself, but I had some good feedback so it can't have been too awful! It was certainly a learning experience that I'll bear in mind if I'm ever asked to speak again.

But I wanted to share something with you concerning the aftermath of my talk, particularly regarding what someone said to me. Just to put what I'm about to say into context, when I was baptised a year ago I had to give my testimony to the congregation of the church I grew up in. I was immensely terrified, as I was essentially about to come out to the rest of my church, the people who had watched me grow up since I was born. I had a lot of worst-case-scenario responses going through my head; maybe I'd be laughed at, jeered at, maybe I'd be rejected by my second family, maybe I wouldn't even allowed to be baptised today.

I was, of course, for God would not have put me through all that for nothing! He needed me in that pool, and that's where I ended up a few minutes after I came out to my church, you could say. He was with me more prevalently than I realised, through all of it, as I was told later.

My best friend's mother who had attended my baptism, a very wise woman who I have an abundance of respect and admiration for, commended me for how well I'd spoken during my testimony. She told me that I talked with the authority of God, and - yes here it is - that there were two angels standing behind me all the way through, protecting and guiding me and the words I spoke. 

I did have to double-check at the time, she did definitely say angels. I mean, angels?! I didn't know whether to feel honoured, joyful or just downright terrified! I think I ended up feeling a little of all three. Retrospectively, come to think of it, I can't really remember any part of my testimony, so someone else must have been in control because I certainly wasn't! But knowing that I was under that much protection, and that I was actually that important to have angels (I mean, come on, angels) standing behind me - well, it made that day all the more amazing.

Back to my talk though. It only happened again. This time, another person came and spoke to me afterwards; a totally different woman, who would have had no way of knowing what had happened on the day of my baptism. She told me I spoke with complete authority from God, and that there were two angels standing behind me from the moment I got up to speak, sealing my words with this divine power.

Okay, so once is mind-boggling, but twice!? I thanked the person who told me this, whilst practically doing cartwheels of excitement and fear and joy and confusion in my mind. How on earth could God have a reason for sending angels to stand behind me, of all people, the gay one, the young and inexperienced one, how is this possible?!

I've learnt fairly quickly in the time I've been on this journey, particularly with being gay, that there are so many questions we can never know the answers to - or not now in this life, anyway. For some people this isn't enough, and that's more than understandable, and there are some answers that I will never stop yearning for. But, with some things, I find myself feeling at peace with the knowledge that God knows, and he's got it all sorted, and that's all I need to know.

So, with the angels, I have absolutely no idea why they happened to be standing behind me on the two occasions when I spoke alone in front of a congregation at church. Also, it's a little infuriating that they seem to like standing behind me where I can't see them, but thinking about this seriously, I think if I did actually see them I'd faint or something dramatic and unnecessary like that, which stands as more proof that God knows what he's doing and I don't.

But they were, and there was a reason, and it's utterly mind-blowing. I will most definitely let you know if it happens again! And if you know me and happen to see two angels standing behind me on an occasion, please inform me in a relatively calm manner - that would be very much appreciated.

This is the passage I spoke on, I thought I'd add it in just in case anyone was interested. I hope someone found my insights useful! And if not, I had quite an eventful evening regardless.

'In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

6 Who, being in very nature God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

9 Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
    and gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

The Calling To An Ordinary Life.

Firstly I'd like to apologise for leaving such a long gap between posts! I'm hoping to make this a kind of habit, and not something I start and never finish ( because I tend to be better at the latter and not the former unfortunately).

Soul Survivor, where to begin? It was fantastic and perhaps unexpectedly emotional week; I went with a view to have a standard experience there, attending seminars and learning all I can to equip myself as much as I could for next year. And, in other words, draw as less attention to myself as possible. I certainly did that, but God sort of had other plans, as He usually does.

I found myself being very overcome with emotion quite frequently throughout the week, which is quite a big deal as I like to think I'm really not someone who expresses their emotions at all! I felt as if God was breaking me, as they say 'breaking my heart for what breaks His', not for any reason that I'm aware of yet, but it allowed me to break down and be comforted in His presence in a way I've never dealt with before. It was refreshing, and at the same time incredibly confusing and draining - even retrospectively, I really have no idea what happened! But as much as I'm yearning to discover all the right questions I have about faith (rather than the answers, referring to a quote from Tom Wright - wonderful theologian), and I'm hoping my course at University will help with that, at the moment I'm quite content to not have any clear knowledge about some things, because that's not how God works. I know He's got me, and He understands me better than I understand myself; that's all I need to know.

Besides this, I learnt a lot too regarding leadership and communication, about hearing God's voice, and surrounding a lot of other things that I'm sure I'll talk about later. There was a lot of information and encouragement for prospective University students too, which was invaluable! I met another girl who was hoping to study Media at Salford University, and we got on really well; one of my insecurities about University is my potential inability to make friends and talk to new people, but gaining a friend encouraged me quite a lot. Maybe I'm not so bad at making conversation and finding common ground with a person as I thought! I've also linked up to the Christian Union at Lancaster University and had my email address shared with the churches there through Fusion, a Christian organisation for students that provided me with a lot of support at Soul Survivor that I also wasn't expecting! Here's the link for anyone who's reading and might be interested.

At a point during the week I felt particularly called to give my life to God, completely. I had an inkling that I might be called to do something specific in the future that would require me to be utterly dependent on God, serving His purpose somehow and sharing His message of hope and unconditional love to those who feel lost and disconnected to this world. Now I feel totally inadequate to do this; I'm nothing special, I'm far from special, believe me! But I realised that I couldn't live for God as I am now, on my own, just like no-one else can. It is the piece of God inside of me, inside of everyone, in the form of the Holy Spirit, that will enable me to follow the path that God wants me to walk for Him. I was fairly relieved at this, and had another overwhelming moment thinking how amazing God is.

When I got back, I shared this with a wise and very treasured friend of mine, this time including my partly selfish fears that perhaps if God called me to live for him, then I'd never enjoy or experience the things that I was most looking forward to in the future, such as having a family. She told me something that gave me not only further relief but a stronger sense of purpose; she said that a lot of the time as Christians we tend to glorify the people that make the 'biggest' sacrifices to follow God's calling and carry out Jesus' mission, like the missionaries that go to foreign countries, or the people who leave behind their wealth and sometimes their families to do what they think is right. These people are rightly commended, for what they do is incredible (my aunt was a missionary in Congo some years ago, and she's an incredible woman!), but often we forget to commend the extraordinary within the ordinary. What she meant was, there are people who live very ordinary lives all over the world, who have a family, a career, a house, a mortgage, a dog/cat/etc, who still manage to live entirely for God, which is equally quite a hard thing to do. Living as a Christian in any circumstance is hard, because we have to essentially live and participate in a world that we can't conform to, amongst people that will laugh at us and call us stupid (and that's a nice word to use).

So as much as we glorify the extraordinary, we should also not underestimate the struggles of the ordinary. I might be called to live an extraordinary life for God, I haven't a clue what my future involves yet - similarly, I might be called to live an ordinary life with a family and career, yet in an extraordinary way still for the glory of God, which may be just as challenging. We shall have to see!