Lent 19th February 2015: clowning around

I enjoyed gong to the circus as a child. I'm sure I still enjoy going to the circus but I can't say I've been for vet 30 years. My favourite act has to be the clowns, with their painted faces, red noses and oversized shoes. Maybe I just like seeing people trip up, get their feet stuck in buckets and have custard pies thrown in their faces? Maybe I like them because I to like to clown around and make people laugh.

As a teenager I had a collection of clown glasses and funny noses. I helped entertain a group of children with special needs ones with my clowning skills, or lack of them. Alas my collection of such things is no more, although I do have some spare bushy eyebrows and moustaches in a draw upstairs; best not to ask why... OK, OK... I was going to gate crash a men's breakfast at church suitable disguised as a man but I chickened out. 

It's easy to put on a fake smile and pretend to be happy. It's harder to laugh convincingly when you aren't happy. Laughter comes from deep inside the soul. There is nothing like a good belly laugh. Joy comes from a variety of things but for me true joy comes from knowing Jesus. I am sure he likes a good belly laugh to.

More laughter tomorrow. 

LENT 18th February 2015: The lama visit.

Today it is Ash Wednesday, it doesn't seem five minutes ago since the last Ash Wednesday. Where does time go? Last year I decided to blog every day through Lent on the theme of simple pleasures. You can find last years blog here if you want to have a look. I love to write but often lack the motivation to do so. In the hope of making writing more of a daily habit I thought I would blog every day through Lent again this year.

As a child I would forever be asking my parents, 'What can I draw?' I am still asking myself that question today as I continue to re-discover my drawing skills. Today I have asked myself the question, 'What can I write?' What would be a meaningful theme to blog on in the run up to Easter? Whilst I could blog on some deep theological subject I think it would be much more fun to blog on something humourous, after all the name of my blog is 'Spirituality and Hilarity'. Ecclesiastes 3 talks about there being a time for everything. It seems it is 'a time to laugh.' It may well also be a time to dance as well but I don't think that will transpose well to writing. I certainly will not be taking any photos or film footage of me dancing! If you are very unlucky you may get a photo of me laughing. Hmmm maybe I can record an audible giggle or two for your amusement.  Watch this space...

Humour is a funny thing. What one person finds funny another does not. What one person can laugh hysterically at another can find crass or in bad taste. I hope I don't offend anyone with my humour, sorry if I do. It is rare for me to laugh much at jokes. It is more situational humour or visual humour that makes me laugh. The sitcom Miranda makes me laugh out loud but so can putting clean sheets on the bed! Maybe I am a little odd, or maybe odd things make me laugh? Maybe you will have formed an opinion on that one by Easter, or maybe you will just have got bored and stopped reading? Let me know, or maybe not. 

Enough rambling lets get to the point of what has made me laugh recently. Today I went to see the lama. Why would a Baptist minister want to meet the lama? Why not. Anyway here he is, or should I say here they are (sorry not the best photo in the world). They didn't say very much, and didn't seem at all interested in me but they made me laugh, even if it was at my own silly joke. I tried whistling at them to get them to come closer (well it works with my cats) but they ignored me. (Yes, I do actually call my cats by whistling.) I tried taping on the barbed wire fence but still nothing. I then became self-conscious and started laughing at myself. I hope no one was looking at the slightly mad women laughing at herself. 

Tune in tomorrow for some more meanderings...

Finding me

It has been a while since my last post so thought I would share what I have been up to. I suddenly realized that I haven't done any drawing since I have known my husband, some 18 years. Where did the time go? I always use to enjoy drawing as a child but going to an academic school I was advised not to study art for a couple of years and to pick it up again at A' Level. I never did. The above is a self portrait and my latest drawing. It isn't perfect, but it is me. I'm not perfect either so a fair reflection I think.

It is strange drawing yourself. I think I may have given myself slight more wrinkles than I have. I am blessed with my mum's skin, as it were, so tend to look more youthful than I am. Not a bad thing most of the time. Blogging like drawing causes for some introspection. I like to think I am very self aware. I don't miss much that goes on around me, but I don't always comment. Maybe that's why I have been quieter on the blogging of late. Honesty is always the best policy but speaking out is not always the most prudent thing to do.

As I think of where I have been in recent years and where I am now I can see a change in myself. I have, it seems, found myself again. I have even picked up my guitar of late. I have also realized how much of a 'Stroudie' I am. Stroud is a rather quirky Coteswold town. It was famous for its cloth (used for military uniformes and snooker tables) that would be made in the mills and hung out to dry on the hillsides. It was also a brewing town but alas Stroud Brewery no longer exists. It is now well known for its farmers market that brings many folk to come and taste and see the local wears. Stroud district is full of artists and writers. Damian Hurts is based here as are Jilly Cooper, Katie Fforde and Joanna Trollop. Other famous writers were Laurie Lee and W. H. Davies and let's not forget Revd W. V. Awdry who wrote the Thomas the Tank Engine books. The sculptor Lynn Chadwick also had a studio here. Keith Allen the actor and musician lives in Stroud and his daughter Lilly was born here and lives near by. Stroud and its five valleys is a beautiful place and perhaps evokes the creative in people. Stroudies tend to be a bit bohemien and eccentric. Being different is celebrated. Maybe you need to be born here or have lived here a while to understand exactly what I mean.

God tends to peel back our layers as we draw closer to him. In my walk with him of late it seems I have lost a few layers, or at least examined them more carefully. I am a bit quirky and like to express myself creatively in worship but this is me and this is how God made me.

Stroud

A poem about the unique place where I grew up...

Searching they came 

Tramping the hills

Roaming the valleys 

Observing it all

Utterly transfixed in

Delight and wonder

Stoping to gaze

The travellers see

Round-about and Ecotricity

Obscurity and eccentricity 

Unusual may be

Dull it is not

Seeking the country

Tractors and Wellies

Roaring log fires

Overeaten bellies 

Unseen big cats

Dandelion meadows

Standing in awe

Tasting the beer

Rugby and football

Oh we have it all 'ere

Unique mills and

Derelict mansions 

Surveying the cows

The ice-cream factory

Rambling footpaths

Over common land

Untold history and

Delights to be found

This is the place that we call STROUD.

©revdjo 13/11/14

Dawn chorus cries

Dawn chorus cries,

'Wake up!'

a new day beckons

full of surprise

of untold mysteries

yet to unfold

the light breaks through

a vision to behold

of love and beauty

truth and joy

waiting,

unraveling, 

moment by moment

time unwinds. 

©revdjo 19/10/14

I hear the sound of footsteps

  

I hear the sound of footsteps

echo far and near

as people search in anguish

lives lived out in fear.

Round and round in circles

over hill and dale

they wander through the countryside

and through the market square.

Aimlessly they travel

shoes worn out by tread

weighed down by their own burdens

some completely off their head.

Minds restless from life's worries

bodies tired out from pain

they look like they're contented

but heads bow down in shame.

©revdjo 3/10/14