Pilgrim: Walking the Camino Portugués

Eight days, 103 kilometres. Four pilgrims.

A pause in the busyness and emotions of life.

To walk the Portuguese Camino from Porto to Valença has been a wonderful experience. Returning home to ordinary life and a busy few months ahead, it has been good to reflect on what was it that made it so special. Was this truly a pilgrimage (we never intended to go all the way to Santiago de Compostela), or just a gentle walk in the Portuguese countryside? If it was a pilgrimage, what was its significance?

Pilgrimage: The journeying of a pilgrim: a journey to a shrine or other holy place

Chambers Dictionary

Perhaps I am a pilgrim, and remain a pilgrim, marked not just by the shell on my backpack, but in my everyday life as well.

Pilgrim: A wanderer, wayfarer: one who travels to a distance to visit a holy place: allegorically or spiritually, one journeying through life as a stranger in this world

Chambers Dictionary

The Camino, for me, was significant, not so much in the destination, but in the journeying itself, and the incompleteness of it. And while there was a physical aspect to it – located in a particular time and place, walking part way along the Camino towards Santiago de Compostela – it also represented a pause in that bigger pilgrimage of life. The very act of walking created stillness and presence. So I was able to lay aside the emotions and the busyness of life, neither to linger in the past nor to rush forward to the future, but simply to be present, in the present, walking – with Lois, with my parents, with our God. To appreciate beauty, stillness, silence, simplicity.

‘Petrus, on the other hand, argued that the guiding concept along the Road to Santiago was its simplicity. That the Road was one along which any person could walk, that its significance could be understood by even the least sophisticated person, and that, in fact, only such a road as that could lead to God.’

Paulo Coelho, The Pilgrimage, p52

October 2, 2016

What a wonderful day

Jesus,

Do for Esther and Rob

as you did in Cana of Galilee,

Take the old water,

their ordinary, individual lives,

and turn them into Gospel wine.

October 1, 2016September 25, 2016

Wedding Speech: The Father of the Bride

It is really great to be celebrating Esther and Rob’s wedding. It’s great also to know that, while this is a very special day in itself, it is also the start of something very new and special – a lifelong journey of relationship and commitment between Esther and Rob.

So here are a few tips for you, Rob, to help you as you get to know Esther, and some little gifts to get you started on your life together.

1. Esther is organised

Esther, like her mother, is very organised. This showed itself right from the moment of her birth. Helen recorded the following in her journal just after Esther was born:

‘[5 days before Esther’s birth] I started wondering when she would be born… She either had to be born before Saturday afternoon or after Sunday morning due to us hosting the youth group on Saturday evening and Pete leading the family service Sunday morning!’

As it was she was born on Monday morning.

That ability to be organised is something she definitely inherited from her mother, and has stuck with her ever since.

I know Esther has been very organised and efficient in getting all the wedding preparations in hand, whilst graduating, starting a new job, moving to Nottingham. I’m sure everything has been carefully plotted out on the wedding spreadsheet.

I’m sure one of Esther’s abiding memories of her mother will be Helen wandering round, at all the different events she organised, with a clipboard in her hand, keeping everyone in order.

So here is a clipboard for you to use, Esther, to keep Rob and your house, your jobs, your finances in order.

2. Esther is sociable and outgoing, a missionary

I think both Helen and I are to blame for this, particularly through taking her off to Cambodia when she was only 1 year old. When we returned to Bristol, one of Esther’s favourite occupations was to sit on the pavement outside our house: ‘Where are all the people?’

I think this passion for reaching out to other people, engaging with anyone, whatever their background, is something you both share. But, a word of warning – you never know quite where that might take you. So, just in case you end up going to Asia on some mad missionary adventure, here is a Kromar. It is an amazingly versatile piece of cotton: you can use it as a turban (though that may be tricky for Rob); a sarong; a loincloth; a sun-shield; face-mask; a baby-carrier; a nappy; a tablecloth, dishcloth…

3. Esther is easily pleased and places a high value on simple family life

When she was about 4 or 5 we went to a friend’s 18^th birthday party and Esther confidently told us that she knew what she would like for her 18^th birthday – a Barbie toothbrush. So that is what she got. I thought I would follow that up by getting two matching toothbrushes for you.

However, the high value she places on simplicity means that sometimes she can be oblivious to the finer things in life like vintage wines or whiskies. This was highlighted for me just recently when Esther was clearing out her room at home to move to Nottingham. She had put out a number of boxes of clothes and odd bits and pieces to give away to charity. In one of them were some jewellery boxes with cheap plastic necklaces and bracelets from Claires. I thought I would have a look through to see if there were any that might be suitable for Lois’ young grandchildren and came across the Sidebotham family Carnelian necklace among them!

4. Esther can be stubborn; she knows what she likes

When we moved from Bristol to Coventry, Esther wasn’t impressed. She reminded us of this regularly. ‘You’re making me do my piano practice and you made me move to Coventry’

So don’t be surprised if she comes out with things over which she is not prepared to give ground, or if she reminds you of the sacrifices she has made for you! When she does, you can remind her that the choices have been mutual with this I Love Nottingham mug.

5. Esther loves building bridges

This has a number of implications. You will see this in the way she reaches out to other people, and in the way she engages with some of the hard questions of justice, truth and confronting the world’s problems.

But first and foremost, she is an engineer at heart – inherits this from both her mother and grandfather. She loves the intellectual challenge and the practical application, and has clearly loved getting stuck into her new job rebuilding the A14.

She has her heart set on a career in Engineering, and you will both need to work out how you balance that with your married life, family, church involvement and Rob’s career.

It is worth taking an interest in her work, go out of your way to understand and support it. So I have got you a specially adapted hard hat, so you can visit her on site.

6. Esther is someone for whom following Jesus is absolutely central to all she does

I have loved seeing that develop in Esther as she has grown, and it is something I have seen in Rob too, so it is my prayer for both of you that this will continue to grow and develop in your life together.

So my final gift is not a new one, but a copy of my book in which I summed up my prayer for you, Esther, as you left home, and now I pray for both of you.

Esther, for 24 years I have watched you grow and develop into a beautiful young woman. Now, as you set off on a new stage in your journey, I pray that you and Rob together will discover more and more what it means, not to leave your childhood behind, but to hold on to that childhood, and through that to enter more fully into God’s wonderful kingdom, here and now.

Earlier, Valerie and I prayed a blessing over Esther and Rob:

Jesus, do for Esther and Rob as you did in Cana of Galilee. Take the old water, their ordinary individual lives, and turn them into gospel wine.

That is a dangerous prayer.

It will mean that you will go against the tide of popular ambition and culture, not seeking the wealth, comfort, position or pleasure that ultimately fails to fill that gap in who we were created to be. Rather, you will, together, discover more of your creativity, of the gifts you have been given. You will use your minds to learn, to explore, and to discover. You will find new ways to celebrate and enjoy the goodness of this world and of each other.

It will mean, too, that you will seek to love your neighbours as yourselves. You will strive for justice and extend compassion to those in need. You will reach out and be there for others.

In doing so, you will make yourselves vulnerable.

But you will also be strong, because you will be following this journey together, you will be supported by your family and all your friends, and you will be held in the arms of God who loves you both.

So I hope you will all join me in wishing all the goodness, challenge and celebration embedded in that simple blessing, for Esther and Rob.

September 25, 2016

Father of the Bride to be…

A week from now it will all be over. My duties as the father of the bride discharged: my speech delivered, the bank transfers completed; my little Esther – whom I have watched grow and develop over all these years – no longer just my little girl, but a grown, married woman.

And I will be left to wonder where those years have gone, to reflect back – with love and joy, pride and wonder – on all those wonderful times when I have held her close, celebrated her achievements, laughed at her antics, agonised over her struggles, and cried with her heartaches.

I will look ahead too, to the wonderful new journey she and Rob are setting out on: a lifelong pilgrimage of joys and sorrows, fun and hard work. I will pray with hope that their journey will be a good one, that they will know the blessings I have known both with Helen over all those years, and now with Lois: the tender moments; the shared struggles; the celebrations.

But for now, I am still the father of the bride to be. So I will wipe away those tears, put the finishing touches to my speech, check our last minute preparations, and look forward to a very special day.

September 14, 2016September 14, 2016

Reflecting on some unforced rhythms

I have recently reached an exciting milestone with my website/blog: overall, I have had over 5,000 views of the website, with a total of over 1,000 hits on my home page in the past year. My hope is that at least some of the resources I have put there, and the regular (or not-so-regular) blogs I post, are proving worthwhile and inspiring/challenging to at least some of my readers.

So, seeing that led me to wonder what it is that people are drawn to on this website, and what, indeed, leads anyone to read yet one more blog or webpage when bombarded with so many words and so much information all the time?

Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body.

Ecclesiastes 12: 12

Most popular blogs

So, what have been the most popular blogs/pages?

Two stand out by a long way:

On seeing my daughter in her wedding dress, with 252 views, and

Brexited, with 231 views.

Top ten blogs/pages from the past year (well 11 – the last two had the same number of views):

On seeing my daughter in her wedding dress		252
Brexited		231
Pathways to harm, pathways to protection: a triennial review of Serious Case Reviews		147
Seeking peace, justice and wellbeing: why I believe we should stay in the EU		126
A Sacred Gaze : encountering Jesus through art		119
Fighting terror with terror: a letter to my MP		115
SIDS, restorative justice and big tobacco: why I’m feeling angry		114
Banksy on the mount I: The Beatitudes		101
Banksy on the Mount III: The Lord’s Prayer		100
Daily Meditations around the Advent Wreath		97
To a semi-circle 2: seeking joy		97

It’s interesting that this running list encompasses all four elements that I have tried to capture through the Unforced Rhythms website: some personal perspectives as an ordinary person trying to be a good father and husband, and not always getting it right; aspects of social justice and the sorrow I feel with so much of the darkness, violence and greed in our world, particularly the grief that I seemed to share with so many others over the outcome of the EU referendum; elements of my work in child protection and preventing child deaths; and some approaches to contemplative spirituality, particularly Lois’ meditations for Lent and Advent, and my melding of Banksy’s art with Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.

**The 100 words featuring most frequently in my top blogs**

So, if you are one of those who have found Unforced Rhythms to be helpful, or enjoyed my gentle (or sometimes not so gentle) ramblings, thank you. I will continue to post blogs within all those themes as Lois and I continue to find our way as tentative pilgrims journeying together through life’s ups and downs; rejoicing in the blessings of family and friends, beauty, celebration and rest; and agonising over the injustices, violence and greed we see in our world, and in which we are so often (perhaps inadvertently) a part. And I will hope that, for some at least, these musings may offer some encouragement, hope, and a bit of fun.

If you would like to be informed of future blogs, please do click the link at the bottom of the page to receive email updates whenever a new post is made. And do please feel free to share Unforced Rhythms with others who you think might appreciate it, to comment on any of the blogs, or to feedback any ideas of ways I could improve the website, make it more useful.

‘For those of us who walk the path of contemplation, it is important to see that, while our individual stories are unique and personal, they are shared by us all. It is a relief to see that our own pain, struggle, loss, joy, and victory are woven into the much larger fabric of tall those who seek the face of God.’ – Martin Laird, A sunlit absence

September 7, 2016

The violence of the motorcar

Last night I ran over a cat.

There was nothing I could do as it dashed into the road and under the wheels of my car.

I pulled over, shaken and upset, and was relieved to find that the poor thing was at least alive and limping off the road to hide in a doorway. We managed to locate the neighbour and I just hope that the vet has been able to set her to rights, fix any broken bones and relieve some of the pain and shock.

I may not be a great cat-lover, but I really wouldn’t wish such suffering on any innocent creature. So it was somewhat pertinent that my meditations this morning brought me to Psalm 73:

‘All in vain I have kept my heart clean

and washed my hands in innocence.’

Over recent years I have found myself increasingly trying to walk a road of non-violence – to embrace Gandhi’s principles of Satyagraha; to embed the values of Jesus’ Beatitudes; striving to be meek, to be merciful, to be pure in heart; longing for justice; seeking to be a peacemaker.

And then I run over a cat.

So is it all in vain? My blogging on justice issues, voting to remain in the EU, urging my MP to speak out against the Trident programme, joining the Green party?

It seems to me that, no matter how hard we try, the reality is that we live in a culture of violence and greed. And I, too, have bought into that. I try to live simply, but the reality is that my lifestyle is extravagant, even by the standards of many in my own country. I speak out against injustice, and yet the luxuries I enjoy are bought on the back of oppression.

Even the car, on which I am so dependent, is itself a tool of violence: guzzling up fossil fuels with every mile I travel; pouring forth its CO₂ and other pollutants into our atmosphere; disrupting the peace of my evening with its penetrating background noise; luring me into an ever-more frantic pace of life; and harming innocent felines as it goes.

August 30, 2016

On watching my children move away from home

Last week, my daughter Esther cleared up everything in her room (well almost), packed it into her car, and left home to start her new life as a working and soon-to-be-married woman in Nottingham.

This week, while I am engaging with child protection specialists from around the world at the ISPCAN congress in Calgary, my son Joe, has cleared up his room and set off for his new life as a working man in Harpenden.

My two children – those little babies whom I held so close in tender moments of fatherly love; or threw into the air, screaming with delight; those lively, growing individuals with whom I shared fun family games, and exciting holidays; those independent, strong personalities who caused such anguish with their stroppy moods and sullen teenage grunts.

As I helped Esther carry boxes down to her car, and again this morning as I sent an email to Joe, I found myself once more in a jumble of emotions: fatherly pride at the amazing young people they have grown to be; tears of nostalgia, joy and heartache as I think back on their wonderful childhoods and all we shared as a family; sadness that Helen isn’t here to share it with me and to encourage them on their way; strong hopes for their futures and all those hold: all the love, the joy and the pain of being a parent.

And I shall return to a different home and a new phase of our family life – filled with a sense of blessing at the privilege I have been given to be a father.