In the cradle of hearing right

The cradle as the source

In a moment of self-reflection, listening to the encouragement, teaching, and exhortation of a message this morning, I found an interesting insight from the cradle case blog that I wrote yesterday that gave me a sense of where I should seek to draw strength and who I should be listening to.

Alright, the ear tip eventually arrived and one thing I had failed to do until now was to put the foam cover over the ear tip before attaching it to the earpiece. It is all properly done now, as the manufacturer intended and instructed.

Blog: Never despise the cradle

In life, we need to know where the source of our strength is, despite the lessons learnt from life and adversity, the examples from mentors and parents, and the support of my partner and my friends, all of which are invaluable along with the apparent stoicism one seems to have, the ultimate source of strength and sustenance for me is from God, by Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit that dwells in me.

Knowing how to do

Yet, it takes knowledge and awareness to know this in the first place, then wisdom and understanding to draw fully from that strength. The Bible is full of comfort and assurance of the help and succour from God, and we still find it difficult to avail ourselves of this unlimited resource that is already available.

We are like earpieces left separate from the cradle case with a built-in battery to keep us charged up. The cradle case of the embrace of God when placed right has the terminals of the earpiece snuggly fit to the connectors in the case to equip us through faith to triumph in all things.

Then again, I appreciate that the earpiece is also a listening device before it is a speaking device it has a microphone, it is hooked to the ear lobe with an ear tip that goes in the ear. So much so, that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God.

Hearing right for the fight

What and who you choose to hear easily informs what you begin to say to set your world in the order of what you have spoken into existence. The world around us becomes an ongoing conversation of hearing and speaking, creating order when we speak right and chaos when we are out of alignment, distant from the cradle case, and finding comfort in the distractions that offer ephemeral solutions.

It is for the same reason that though certain conversations seem useful, the content of the conversation in what one has heard has been quite less so. Where conversation loses elements of edification and exhortation, that conduit needs trammelling for you cannot afford for the wrong seeds to be sown in the grounds where a different kind of harvest is expected.

The tendency to criticise with the intention to be effectual comes easily to many who can speak into your life out of affiliation with much consequence on how it can affect you, to which some recent blogs have alluded to on not trying hard enough, not acting as expected, or in the questioning of one’s legitimacy. All these trickle-down influences in snatches of conversation have not been helpful at all.

Blog: Thought Picnic: Battling a dimension of legitimacy

Blog: Thought Picnic: Those who resort to bastardry should answer for their claims

Choosing my own cradle and earpiece

It discounts and disparages whatever you might have been doing to ameliorate things. It is unkindly even if the place from whence it came means well without realising how it does not engender the kind of communication anyone needs when apparently in the doldrums.

This all might seem esoteric, but what have learnt with respect to what I have written here is, that I need to reduce the noise, take the calm, assert the truth, and claim the prize that has already been won.

I return to the lessons and exhortations of old that relay the fundamentals and the first principles of how to tackle thorny issues and circumstances. From within are groanings that cannot be uttered yet laying foundations upon which desires, dreams, ideas, and visions begin to take on tangibility and reality. I am able because I am enabled.

Never despise the cradle

The cradle nurse

Each day consists of learning little or rather consequential lessons, the little ones however are some you just note and make amends for without thinking too much about what that entailed.

In one case, recently, I learnt two things about my Bluetooth earpiece, the Plantronics PLV Voyager 5200, I have had it for about 5 years, and it is usually on the cradle case and fully charged. Then there was a week when I left the earpiece separate from the cradle case which has an in-built battery.

I found out that even though the earpiece was switched off, it had discharged, I placed it in the cradle case and put it in my pocket and just over an hour later, the earpiece had a 5-hour charge duration. Even I was surprised that all the while I had the earpiece, I had never observed this situation.

The cradle keep

Then, the other day, I took the headpiece for an outing but did not take the cradle case with me. After my conversation, I took off the earpiece and put it in my pocket without it being in the cradle case. When I got back home, the ear tip had come off, and when I put it back together, it was loose, I found out that the foam washer that held it in place had also come off, damaged by a cut to the washer ring.

I could have sworn I had spare ear tips, but I could not find them where I thought they were, no matter where I looked. I decided I needed to replace them, and they seemed to be quite inexpensive, so I ordered a new set of ear tips, a set of 3. I guess the lesson here is always to keep the earpiece in the cradle case when not in use and switched off and on it when set aside but switched on for usage.

Dare I learn to laugh again?

Where is my laughter?

The other day, I wrote about being sad, the sadness about many things as each aspect of adversity seemed to pronounce a lien on my sense of wellbeing. Much as I have struggled with things, I have pressed forward, not with the speed I wanted nor with the progress I expected, but I have kept looking for ways to encourage myself and refuse to allow the negative to take too much space in my space.

Blog: Sadly Sad Sadness (July 2023)

I had forgotten how to laugh, a strengthening power of joy had left me morose and concerned, preoccupied with many things and oblivious to the good, the beautiful, the wonderful, and the blessings that greet every waking day. Even if I deny it, some self-pity was creeping up on my patch, and I needed to get it off my lawn.

Bring back the joy

And Nehemiah continued, “Go and celebrate with a feast of rich foods and sweet drinks, and share gifts of food with people who have nothing prepared. This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength! [Nehemiah 8:10 (NLT)]

The part of the joy of the Lord being my strength was registering in my thoughts for a while, but I was unsure of what I needed to do to begin to enjoy the benefits of this medicine of laughter with the healing qualities it presents.

Laughter for the pain

I have written about this many times before, when my Fentanyl patch fell off one Sunday probably when I was at church, the pain of cancer searingly deep came in waves almost too unbearable that as I got home still unaware of why the pain was there and then I began to laugh, not cry, but laugh as I realised how the laughter helped release endorphins that held the pain at bay until the newly affixed patch took hold.

Another experience of laughter was a few years ago when I met a pastor in a park, and we began to chat. He said some incredulous and interesting things to me and about me, much of which not only surprised me but were also as unbelievable to be considered impossible. I chuckled and even laughed just as Sarah in the bible did when she was told at the age of 90 that she would have a child.

Laughter for the winning

Laughter sometimes is an expression of unrestrained vulnerability that can leave in contortions of near embarrassment which when shared with others is a different kind of geniality, communication, and camaraderie. We do need more laughter in our lives as expressions of happiness and more so, joy, a kind of feeling of wellness that overwhelms gloom and presents a new kind of perspective on things.

I know it would do me good, it would heal a lot of pain, it will drown away sorrows and uproot the foothold of sadness, it would lift my countenance and I hold my head up high and in it will come the strength to know that the seasons are changing for a bountiful harvest where the windows of heaven are open for the pouring out of blessing. Delirium, you make think, let’s laugh adversity out of our lives.

Blog: Laughter follows my hospital visit (October 2009)

Blog: Thought Picnic: My laughter and my pain (July 2013)

Blog: Opinion: Where addiction and tragedy can confuse issues (April 2017)

Blog: And I laughed like Sarah (July 2021)

Blog: I was a hostage to pain (September 2022)

Watching a sermon preached by Reverend Richard Roberts he shared his testimony of one day owing no one and the next when he took over the reins of Oral Roberts University, they were $60m in debt and at risk of closing, how the joy of the Lord changed everything and everything changed.

The Joy Of The Lord // Rev. Richard Roberts // May 22, 2019 // Jay Eberly Ministries

Thought Picnic: Those who resort to bastardry should answer for their claims

Refusing to bear the slur

It has occurred to me that there must be a time when you must divorce yourself from illegitimacy and the hold of bastardry predicated on an assessment of your situation with little regard for your lived life and achievements.

Obviously, there were circumstances where children born out of wedlock were considered illegitimate, but it is no fault of the child that they were born into that situation. Unfortunately, the label might dog them in terms of inheritance or entitlement, but what cannot be denied them is the right to live their own lives and set their own course to create their own story.

Other uses of the word bastard might come from attempting to address the child in terms of what they have failed to achieve for wanting of ability and sometimes it is just adversity or misfortune that can happen to anyone, just that someone somewhere seems to be keeping score.

Invariably, anyone can be a bastard, choose to be one or be seen as one. For those who for all sorts of reasons are declared so but refuse to let it define them, the path before them is clear as the light of day. Provenance is helpful, but without it, you can still go on to become the best of who you can ever be for the betterment of people and communities that see you as you are rather than where you are from.

Let them answer for their claims

It is interesting that even royal bastards even with their illegitimacy were rarely without honour or title and many were quite prominent in society without attainder for being born out of wedlock. A child of whom they have been born remains the child of, whether recognised and accepted or not.

If then after so having reached adulthood there are some that seek to lay that unfortunate appellation on you, it is for them to then support that with the evidence of why illegitimacy is their refuge of discourse apart from whatever else you have done and achieved.

Smarting from an encounter that elicited reference and allusion in the mistaken need to trigger a response to attendant concerns, it is not the need to continue engagement that comes to mind even if some advice has suggested a bit more circumspection to limited spheres of adverse commentary. 

Rather, one is inclined to cut off communication for the time being, for once again, a line was crossed and if bastardry was a last resort for one, it became the last straw that broke the laden camel’s back for another.

Blog: Thought Picnic: Battling a dimension of legitimacy

On keeping and appreciating the value of my diamond

Working on relationships

There are times I want to believe I have the best of relationships and others where I am doubtful about the strength of what we might have going. The doubts are not about the relationship itself but how to navigate the emotional elements that constitute the relationship to ensure needs and requirements are satisfied.

If there were a rulebook for relationships with 10 Steps to Perfect Relationships, maybe 10 steps would be a bit much, if the whole concept could be condensed to 3 steps or how Jesus paraphrased the 10 Commandments into two of loving God and loving your neighbour as yourself, maybe, just maybe there can be a modicum of assured success.

The demands are demanding

However, human beings are too complex to be subject to the simple mechanisation of rules. The elements that make for a good relationship with anyone are myriad and varied, the commonalities and differences that engender satisfaction for partners would rarely be similar between all sorts of people.

As much as I strive to make relationships work, we all have expectations, some fully and completely met and others quite less so, as to be unsatisfactory. We work at what we have, to make the bad good, and hope to make the good even better or perfect, but there is work involved and communication is key to that.

Making provision for the sulk

Then again, allowances need to be made to vent frustration, anger, or some other emotion in the scheme of things. A quiet spell of being sent to Coventry is probably one of the easier messages to send in the expression of disagreement or more. It is prerogative that members of a partnership are free to exercise at will without the need to answer to anyone.

Not that it makes for any good feeling for the affected party, but these are things that we as human beings need to negotiate even as the burden of disquiet exacerbates stress and unfortunate discomfort.

Seeking a more perfect union

As the old saying, Love is blind, marriage or relationships are the eye opener. My eyes are constantly opened to my inadequacies in satisfying what might be required of me, in as much as they are opened to how people in relationships are flawed people seeking to augment each other to make a more complete union and whole, some of that is in bonding as glue for joinery and at times it is brutal clash of iron sharpening iron with all the sparks that come from the friction.

I guess what matters most is lots of patience and much more endurance to stay the course whatever happens, to prove daily and maybe hourly that the person you have chosen matters more than you have the capacity to express and in the same vein, more than they would ever know. The rest you leave to fate and fortitude, you can never relent in giving your best, the test is whether they trust you enough to accept it as good enough.

When I look back into history, a man was a diamond to a damsel, sadly, the diamond lost its glitter, the amazing gem had lost the colour, the clarity, the cut, and the carat weight that gave it inestimable value, rancour and animosity bedevils that once blessed matrimony. It is a narrative one must prevent from repeating itself.

Stewarding at the Pride Eucharist

The Rainbow flag flying on the flagstaff of the Manchester Cathedral.

In the beauty of service

I am humbled by how the call to serve has brought me into proximity and recognition of the powerful. It is a distinctive antithesis of human nature where many have a quest for power rather than the desire to serve.

Whilst one cannot say this is something I would have gravitated to in the natural cause of things, I do remember that when I eventually found a church to associate with in Amsterdam, I found that getting involved in the basics of helping to set up and dismantle the settings for services and worship was something to do because it was needful.

In the process, I got involved during the infancy of the church in finding a new venue, providing storage space, hosting but not leading a prayer group, and was in the ushers and serving team. I however declined positions of leadership that were offered as I was in much conflict about what that entailed.

To welcome and to steward

As a welcomer and a steward at the Manchester Cathedral, positions I assumed after the long courting and persuasion of others who deemed my attendance as one that suggested enough affinity and the readiness to be involved, even more so when the dean through his wife expressed that I had to be involved because there is no reason not to be, I relented.

At the Annual General Meeting of the cathedral, I was voted on as a steward and soon after in my activities with the Volition programme became a welcomer of visitors to the cathedral.

However, yesterday, in attending the Eucharist for Pride which enjoins to bring the LGBTQI+ community into communion and worship, I arrived early to help, just in case extra hands were needed. At the Dean’s Garden Party two Saturdays ago, he, the dean said there was no way the cathedral could function without the volunteers that help in services and other activities that need doing in the cathedral organisation.

Between right and respect

I soon took over at the door to welcome and hand out the service programme to people who had come to attend the Pride Eucharist and it was notable for the fact that the Bishop of Manchester was also in attendance to welcome, bless, charge, and dismiss the congregation. The clergy that ministered at the altar were all ordained by the bishop too. [The Manchester Pride takes place in the August Bank Holiday weekend from Thursday night through Monday night.]

I had interesting encounters at the door, the cathedral is open to all visitors, and I have probably met visitors from more than 35 countries. However, when there are services in the nave, the church is closed to visitors with a big sign posted at the door informing anyone not attending the ongoing service that the cathedral is closed.

Yet, there are some that ignore the sign and come through the doors insisting they need to visit almost as if it is a matter of right. The difficult conversation that ensues between understanding that the house of God is open and the need to respect that the act of congregational worship should courteously and understandably not be disturbed is almost a battle of wits, reasonableness, and enforcement.

Stand for the open heart

To one lady who was ready to barge in, I told her, there was an ongoing service and except if she was here to attend the Pride Eucharist, the church was now closed to visitors, but she was not going quietly. With a look of incredulity on her face she asked why the church was catering to gay folk, to which I answered that Jesus died for all and the church is an open place of worship for everyone. Much as everyone needs prayer.

She understood as much before we moved on to issues of symbolism and doctrine, by which time, I had to move her from the inside of the church into the corridor of the doorway, with the hope that she would leave peacefully. Yes, we are a Protestant church, the Church of England, The depictions of Jesus or Mary are not venerated in answering other questions before she insisted her sister-in-law was attending the service and she needed to get to her.

Pointing in a direction I could hardly determine, two of a group that was initially hesitant to attend walked towards the door from the furthest part of the seating and they all left the cathedral.

The door of conflict and consent

It soon dawned upon me the precariousness of manning the door, as earlier, someone had left their rucksack at the doorway, which caused a bit of tension that it was inspected by the staff after an announcement did not elicit a response about ownership. Eventually, he returned to claim his bag, but it could have been something else.

Another could barely contain the sense of rage about the church involved in this service, and we have at times had someone come in to disrupt an ongoing service protesting that the gathering was not a reflection of true Christianity, as if disrupting other people’s devotion is Christian in any sense at all.

It was revealed when the Bishop of Manchester in his welcoming remarks stated that one of the requirements that came up in his application for the role was that he needed to be accepted by the LGBTQI+ community of Manchester. I was surprised but what makes for harmony is the welcoming of diversity to the love of Christ and therein the gospel is heard by all rather than limited to a few.

The Pride Eucharist was attended by about 150 people, it was a celebration of Christianity, and many stayed behind for refreshments. Later, the bishop thanked us for serving and stewarding, which included taking the offering and ushering to the communion. A welcoming church allows Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit to do their work rather than become gatekeepers and sentries to the grace and gift of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The cover of the Pride Eucharist programme.

Am I the writer I could be?

A writer unsure

I have traits, abilities, and skills that I probably know, in other cases have been noticed, but I have rarely had the confidence over self-doubt to use consistently and maybe as profitably as possible.

One of those is writing and the ability to convey complex and difficult ideas easily and comprehensibly. Obviously, my turn of phrase and use of expression can be quirky, queer, and unusual. I have decided that is my voice, the range in which it is heard and read is characteristically mine, and so, I have resisted certain requirements to conform to a style guide, my blog becoming my bailiwick of boundless expression.

A writer constrained

Well, I want to believe that my expression is boundless, but it hardly is, I have to take into consideration the cloud of witnesses, known and unknown who might misread, misconstrue, or misunderstand. Those who have access to me would seek clarification whilst others would run along with their misconception and subscribe to conjecture, over which I have no control.

Then again, I am not writing scripts that need some tight direction, I think I am inclined to the story-form narrative, the way my observations bring forth interesting perspectives and the short blog is a good vehicle for that.

A writer student

I guess I have struggled with the long-form novel, particularly what might become my autobiography. A few chapters have been written but this is where I am beginning to think I need some tutelage or school, something to break through that feeling of incapacity and limitation.

I do not know if that can be taught and learned, but I am quite willing to try. It might be one of the courses in tertiary education I embark on.

For now, I am still thinking of what ideas and celebrations should greet my 20 years of blogging. I do wonder what should be done.