Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

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Archives for April 2013

Blogocracy: The 100 Most Popular Christian Blogs (according to Facebook Likes)

By Anita Mathias

(I have updated this list on Dec 17, 2013. Here’s the link.)

Here’s my list of 100 leading Christian bloggers as measured by Facebook “Likes.” I offer it as a resource, and I hope you like it.

I’ve focused on personal bloggers who have a wide appeal to Christians, across national and racial boundaries, and have focused on blogs which are principally about the intersection of the Christian faith and daily life (as opposed to being principally about leadership, productivity, writing, housekeeping, parenting, or the blogger’s health!)

Let me know if I have omitted your favourite Christian blogger.

1 Glennon Melton Momastery 94176
2 Beth Moore LPM Blog 81464
3 Donald Miller Storyline 79037
4 Ann Voskamp A Holy Experience 57333
5 Jen Hatmaker Jen Hatmaker 57034
6 Jon Acuff Stuff Christians Like 44615
7 Michael Hyatt Michael Hyatt 24402
8 Tim Challies Challies.com 23276
9 Kirsten Howerton Rage Against the Minivan 16586
10 Rachel Held Evans Rachel Held Evans 16241
11 Kristen Welch We are THAT Family 15709
12 Brian McLaren Brian McLaren EMC 15248
13 Margaret Feinberg Margaret Feinberg 14320
14 Ed Stetzer Ed Stetzer 12982
15 Jamie Wright Jamie the Very Worst Missionary 11443
16 Carlos Whittaker Carlos Whittaker 10165
17 Lisa-Jo Baker The Gypsy Mama 9915
18 Nadia Bolz-Weber Nadia Bolz-Weber 9824
19 Shauna Niequist Shauna Niequist 8757
20 Sarah Mae Sarahmae 8135
21 Eugene Cho Eugene Cho 8025
22 Kurt Willems The Pangea Blog 7182
23 Ron Edmondson Ron Edmondson 6468
24 Adrian Warnock Adrian Warnock 6233
25 Mary DeMuth Mary DeMuth 5689
26 Tony Jones Theoblogy 5649
27 Matthew Paul Turner MatthewPaulTurner 5524
28 Jennie Allen Jennie Allen 5292
29 Emily Freeman Chatting at the Sky 5234
30 Holley Gerth Heart to Heart with Holley 5029
31 Krish Kandiah KrishK 4500
32 Justin Taylor Justin Taylor 4405
33 Tony Campolo Redletter Christians 4332
34 Andrew Jones Tall Skinny Kiwi 4322
35 Jennifer Fulwiler Conversion Diary 3829
36 Peter Enns Peter Enns 3533
37 Anne Jackson Anne Jackson Writes 3403
38 Frank Schaeffer FrankSchaeffer.com 3322
39 Christine Sine Godspace 3253
40 Sarah Bessey Sarah Bessey 3119
41 Marc Cortez Everyday Theology 3097
42 Christian Piatt Christian Piatt 2606
43 Jennifer Dukes Lee Getting Down with Jesus 2258
44 Sarah Markley Sarah Markley 2157
45 Scott McKnight Jesus Creed 2125
46 Richard Dahlstrom Fibonacci Faith 2125
47 Amber Haines The RunaMuck 2096
48 Nicole Cottrell Modern Reject 2030
49  Darrell Vesterfelt Darrell Vesterfelt 1972
50 Bonnie Gray Faith Barista 1897
51 Joy Bennett Joy in this Journey 1774
52 Winn Collier Winn Collier 1740
53  Simon Guillebaud Simon Guillebaud 1609
54 Aaron Armstrong Blogging Theologically 1608
55  Allison Vesterfelt Allison Vesterfelt 1480
56 Elizabeth Esther Elizabeth Esther 1446
57 Malcolm Guite Malcolm Guite 1414
58 Jessica Bowman Bohemian Bowmans 1369
59 Jeremy Myers Till He Comes 1184
60 Zack Hunt The American Jesus 1121
61 Kathy Escobar Kathy Escobar 997
62 Alece Ronzino Grit and Glory 985
63 Michelle DeRusha Michelle DeRusha 897
64 Tamara Lunardo Tamara Out Loud 873
65 Chaplain Mike internetmonk.com 823
66 Alise Wright Alise Wright 812
67 Addie Zierman How to Talk Evangelical 807
68  Jonathan Martin Jonathan Martin 803
69 Elora Nicole Elora Nicole 760
70 Tullian Tchividijian Liberate 727
71  Billy Coffey Billy Coffey 710
72  Alia Hagenbach Narrow Paths to Higher Places 706
73 Preston Yancey seePrestonblog 689
74 Heather Kopp Heather Kopp 679
75 Enuma Okoro Enuma Okoro 616
76 Anita Mathias Dreaming Beneath the Spires 577
77 Kris Camealy Kris Camealy 559
78 Emma Scrivener A New Name 552
79 Adam McHugh Adam S. McHugh 534
80 Shelley Miller Redemption’s Beauty 518
81 Micha Boyett Mama::Monk 512
82 Nish Weiseth Nish Happens 498
83 Barnabas Piper Barnabas Piper 488
84 Jenny Rae Armstrong Jenny Rae Armstrong 439
85 Matt Appling The Church of No People 426
86 Gary Neal Hansen Gary Neal Hansen 417
87 Ed Cyzewski In a Mirror Dimly 371
88  Susannah Paul Susannah Paul 359
89 Frank Viola Frank Viola 353
90 Sandra Heska King Sandra Heska King 319
91 Carolyn Weber Pressing Save 309
92  Rachel Stone Rachel Marie Stone 281
93 Ellen Painter Dollar Ellen Painter Dollar 264
94 Holly Smothers Grantham A Lifetime of Days 226
95 D. L. Mayfield D L Mayfield 213
96 Kelli Woodford Chronicles of Grace 203
97 Grace Biskie Grace Biskie 188
98 Kelly Youngblood Renewing Your Mind 183
99 Timothy Dalrymple Philosophical Fragments 149
100 Seth Haines Seth Haines 123

 

Filed Under: In which I explore writing and blogging and creativity, Writing and Blogging Tagged With: blogging, Blogocracy

10 Lessons from Heartbreak Time and Death and Resurrection in Writing my Memoir (Part I)

By Anita Mathias

Crows_Lake_in_North_Sikkim_MIND_HAS_MOUNTAINSSo, around 1987, when I was reading English at Somerville College, Oxford, Salman Rushdie read from Midnight’s Children at the Oxford University Majlis, the Indian society. And I stay up all night reading Midnight’s Children, transfixed. At least 95% of the novels, plays, poetry I had read until then had been written by British, American and European authors. Unconsciously, I thought of their countries, their lives, as the proper subject of literature.

Rushdie’s India was 15 years older than mine, but definitely recognizable. So all lights blaze: the moment many writers describe when they realize: “I can make literature out of what I know and have experienced.”

I quickly write about 25 pages in a green felt pen. I must dig them out.

* * *

I move on to America, to a Master’s in Creative Writing, in Ohio State University, 1987-1989 and I choose to specialize in, not memoir, but poetry, the form in which, like many beginning writers, I instinctively wrote.

So, it’s all poetry: courses in poetry, reading it, writing it, in the interstices of taking classes, and teaching Freshman composition. And then I go on to a Ph.D in Creative Writing at SUNY Binghamton in 1989–taking classes, teaching classes, writing papers, grading papers, a romantic busyness: lots of reading,  thinking and a little writing, but still…all I want to do is write.

I quit my Ph. D to get married, and suddenly get to write full time, as I had always wanted to. We wander around the US–to Cornell, New York, where Roy did a post-doc; to Stanford, California, another post-doc; and then to William and Mary, where he teaches. And I write poetry full time! And then I realize I’ve written through all the poem ideas I have, and am running dry.

* * *

I pick up memoirs, almost by chance. Patricia Hampl’s, A Romantic Education, describes, with verve and verisimilitude, a family in which food, and eating and drinking were shorthand substitutes for love—much like mine. Annie Dillard in “An American Childhood” describes an intense girlhood in Pittsburgh, a steel city like Jamshedpur in which I grew up. I read Frost in May, and Mary MacCarthy’s Memories of a Catholic Girlhood.

Dostoevsky describes his Prince Myshkin before an epileptic fit

“His brain seemed to catch fire at brief moments…. His sensation of being alive and his awareness increased tenfold at those moments which flashed by like lightning.  His mind and heart were flooded by a dazzling light.”

So too mine. About 4 years after the original idea, I saw my childhood and adolescence as a subject over the next few week and months, and hundreds of little memories rushed in.  I jotted them down and I burned with the desire to write the memoir. (As I do now).

* * *

And in the providence which shapes our ends, my husband, who had been teaching at William and Mary was offered a postdoc the University of Minnesota. I believed I could write anywhere, so was cool with going to Minneapolis, and my two years there turned out to be absolutely one of the most stimulating and creative periods of my writing life.

The Twin Cities, Minneapolis and St. Paul, had an active literary community, particularly in Creative nonfiction and memoir. I applied to a graduate course in Creative Nonfiction  at the University of Minnesota to which I had to turn in a 10 page piece of writing. I wrote my first essay, “The Goblin Market” about the raucous open air markets, magical to a young child, and it won a Roberts Writing Award, $200.

Charlie Sugnet, my writing teacher at the University of Minnesota, and the weekly book excerpts he gave us to read opened the world of creative nonfiction to me. Annie Dillard says moving from poetry to creative nonfiction is like playing with the whole orchestra rather than a single instrument. Indeed.

* * *

Mini-magic happened. I had written two long essays that term in Charlie Sugnet’s class, one about my conversion experience, and one about working at Mother Teresa’s convent.

Within a few months, the two pieces won a Minnesota State Arts Board grant ($6000), a Jerome Foundation travel grant ($1800), a mentorship award with an established writer from the Asian community: David Mura.

Sugnet said that he could see my having a career. He suggested submitting a book about my experience in Mother Teresa’s convent to editors and agents. It was not, however, the book I wanted to write–I wanted to write a memoir of my early childhood. I visualized this period as the last 20-30 pages in it

But heck, I so wanted a published book and so I embarked upon a foolish quest that saddened and poisoned many years of my life–trying to write a book I was not truly in love with, and did not want to write with my whole heart. (Samina Ali, who was in one of these classes with me, described how she wanted to write about her arranged marriage to a Muslim gay man, but was so desperate for affirmation that she almost signed on to write a book called Demon Lover, about an incestuous relationship with her father.) 

Lesson 1: Write the book YOU want to write, the one you are in love with, not the one you think might be successful

 

So I was trying to spin a book out of 14 months of my life, wasn’t whole-heartedly in love with it, and craved validation. I joined a writers’ group with my friend, the lovely writer (and human being!) Erin Hart. Took more writing and literature classes at the University and the Loft, a literary centre, at which I taught a course in creative nonfiction. I submitted my essays to magazines and for grants and prizes and fellowships, instead of keeping just writing, and finishing the doggone thing. Which meant I was always backing up and polishing what I’d already written instead of just writing. Going forward.

And since American creative writing classes are based on the workshop model: much time waswasted reading and critiquing other amateurs work instead of communing with the greats! And this is true, for both teachers and students!

Lesson 2 Get it done, get it down, get it written. Don’t seek validation. Seek mastery.

 

In my second year in Minnesota I went to a writers’ conference in New England, trying to get an agent and editor and a hypercritical, ungenerous teacher there shredded my work at the sentence and grammatical level (she didn’t like my contorted pretzel-like sentences) destroying my confidence, making me analyse my sentences,  instead of just writing by instinct,

I took a course in grammar and editing which I perhaps did not need, but which helped me to write with the left brain too, and write better).  More tiredness, more distraction, more time wasted.

Lesson 3: Take the critique of teachers with a grain of salt, assessing them. Avoid mean-spirited, frustrated, bitter ones: tormentors rather than mentors.

 

I used a tenth of the $6000 State Arts Board grant to work one on one with Carol Bly (ex-wife of Robert Bly!), who could go off on wild riffs of rage about ideas and sentences or grammatical constructions she did not like, or, but was also hyperbolically lavish with praise. All rather alarming for someone who was moving from poetry to prose and was just learning to write beautiful prose.   She promised to send it to her agent when I had 100 beautiful pages.

More stress, more backing up and looking over my shoulder and obsessing over each word, each phrase, each sentence instead of looking at the big picture.

I started to write self-consciously, analytically, analysing each word, phrase, sentence, wanting them to be unassailable, joy turning to stress.

Lesson 4—Quit over-analysing. Write freely, write like a river.  You will never write perfectly in this life. Why should you? You are not God.

Learn to let things go. Ship.

 

Knowing my work would be critiqued as it was being written I started getting frozen and blocked. There was a four page chapter over which I got blocked for four months in my perfectionism, which turned out to be–unnecessary!

Lesson 5 when blocked, read, read, read. You might instinctively stumble on a form and language. If you are blocked on a chapter, move on. Perhaps you don’t have to write it.

* * *

In the summer of 1993, I go to the Squaw Valley Writers Conference in California and meet Harper and Row editor, Ted Solotaroff and an agent, Virginia Barber, who express an enthusiastic interest in my manuscript about working with Mother Teresa.

I come back walking on air to Williamsburg, where we had returned despite my desperate desire to stay in Minneapolis.

My husband wasn’t hugely supportive; he was establishing his own career as a mathematician. Life was stressful, lots of battles about who’d do the dishes and the laundry and the cleaning and the tidying. And then we had Zoe, a lovely grinny baby–and writing time and energy was at a premium. I wrote and revised the manuscript through the tired first two years of her life.

When my second revision of my manuscript was rejected by the agent and editor in October 1996, I lay face down on the carpet and wanted to die.

Lesson 6: Never confuse strong enthusiastic interest for a signature on a piece of paper.

(I later met at least three established writers who this editor had expressed a strong interest in, led them on and dumped. Why?

Read Part Two here

Filed Under: In which I explore writing and blogging and creativity, Writing and Blogging Tagged With: failure, memoir, writing

Spring at Waterperry Gardens, Oxford: Oxfordshire Walks

By Anita Mathias

(Post by Roy Mathias)

The Oxfordshire village of Waterperry is home to Rowan Atkinson and the 8 acre Waterperry gardens.  We visited the latter.

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On the banks of the Thame, a tributary of the Thames.

 

It was a beautiful clear cold spring day.

It was a beautiful clear cold spring day.

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New leaves with rain from earlier in the day:

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Waterperry holds the national collection of saxifrages. There were well over a hundred labelled specimens in flower.

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Helleborus Orientalis, Red Hybrid.

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Chionodoxa

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The ericaceous border displays a wide range of colors.

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Waterperry has an extensive orchard of dwarf espaliered fruit trees.

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The Knot Garden.

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The “Family Apple Tree” has over 45 cultivars grafted on it. Each branch will bear different apples, and is labelled accordingly. Must return in the autumn!

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A oak in the meadow.

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Lichen on an apple tree.

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A hedge pruned as a wall with a window.

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Birdsong everywhere in the Spring. Here is robin on top of a cypress.

Filed Under: random

No Attempt to Attain Something Beautiful is Ever Lost

By Anita Mathias

Helen Keller
“One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar. But, nevertheless, it seemed to me sometimes that I could never use my speech-wings as God intended I should use them; there were so many difficulties in the way, so many discouragements; but I kept on trying, knowing that patience and perseverance would win in the end.

And while I worked, I built the most beautiful air-castles, and dreamed dreams, the pleasantest of which was of the time when I should talk like other people, and the thought of the pleasure it would give my mother to hear my voice once more, sweetened every effort and made every failure an incentive to try harder next time.

So I want to say to those who are trying to learn to speak and those who are teaching them: Be of good cheer. Do not think of to-day’s failures, but of the success that may come to-morrow.

You have set yourselves a difficult task, but you will succeed if you persevere, and you will find a joy in overcoming obstacles–a delight in climbing rugged paths, which you would perhaps never know if you did not sometime slip backward–if the road was always smooth and pleasant.

Remember, no effort that we make to attain something beautiful is ever lost. Sometime, somewhere, somehow we shall find that which we seek.

We shall speak, yes, and sing, too, as God intended we should speak and sing.”

Helen Keller “The Story of My Life”

Filed Under: random Tagged With: Helen Keller, Perseverance

The Cwmbran Outpouring: The 2013 Welsh Revival, A Personal Report

By Anita Mathias

Last summer at RiverCamp, Heidi Baker said, casually, “Revival is coming to the UK. You know that, don’t you? Everyone knows that.” And something like a collective sigh– or sneer!–shivered through the audience.

For in Charismatic circles, people have been talking about and longing for this revival for a very long time. It’s way past its due date, but hasn’t come A) because of God’s sovereign decision. B) because, perhaps, revival begins with one, and was waiting for the one.

* * *

Revival. Why want it? For the same reason, one might fly to Rome rather than walk on the Via Francigena, the ancient pilgrim route from Canterbury to Rome (though I will be walking 71 miles on the Tuscany portion in September).

Because when the Spirit comes, difficult things become easy. There is an infusion of joy. We forgive our enemies–easily. We glimpse the Father’s heart of love. And yes, yes, there  are miracles—healings, deliverances, conversions, the spectacular bait which draws people, (but which are secondary to the revelation of the Father’s love and a fresh filling by the Spirit.)

* * *

My blogging friend Jules Middleton of Apples of Gold from Sussex invited me to go with her to the 2013 Welsh Revival in Cwmbran. Me going was a totally crazy idea; heck, I don’t even live in Wales, and am 8 days behind with my book manuscript, but I wanted to go, and rapidly committed to going before I overthought it, and worked all the totally logical and sensible and cold reasons not to go!

* * *

The glorious hymn “Here is Love, Vast as the Ocean” was the love song of the Welsh Revival. The love song of the Cwmbran Outpouring is Just one touch from the King changes everything.

It’s true, isn’t it? The woman with an issue of blood who touches Jesus (Luke 8:46). The man with the withered hand (Mark 3:5). Blind Bartimaeus ( Mark 10 46-52).

It takes just a minute for us to see him with the eyes of faith, seeking his face and not his hand (as Richard Taylor, the speaker, yesterday) said for us to be healed.

If the Cwymbran Outpouring were to be characterized in these early days, it would probably be “the igniting of latent faith.”

* * *

Okay, let me tell you about yesterday.  There was definitely an atmosphere of emotional contagion, of expectant faith, which strengthens your own rather atrophied faith.

The church has been meeting every evening since a series of miracles on April 10th.  I spoke to the stewards, and to one of the church’s pastors after the meeting, who showed me pictures on his iPhone of the disabled man (whose healing ignited the revival) walking, and then lifting his wheelchair above his head. The pastor pointed to the heavy wheelchair, kept as a trophy by the front door—I could not lift it, Roy could lift it a couple of inches. This miracle ignited faith in other people, and they’ve had deliverances from cancer, paralysis, addictions, hepatitis, etc. (Victory Church particularly caters to ex-addicts).

What stood out most for me was the atmosphere of faith, joy and expectancy, of people coming every night for 13 nights to worship Christ. The worship was good; the preaching was “anointed.”

“Anointed?” Well, when a preacher can look at a familiar passage and see fresh bread, meat and drink in it, and convey this in a way that others too can come and see, and eat and drink with delight—that’s anointing! This cerebral Oxford girl transcribed Richard Taylor’s entire sermon—simple, to the point, and it spoke to me.

And then, ministry time. I sensed the presence of the Lord in the house, and wondered if I should just pray quietly for one touch from the King. But then, the Kingdom of God advances through violence, and the violent bear it away (Matt 11:12).

So I went and received prayer.

* * *

Let me tell now how prayer for healing works with me—and this could be partly because of my lowish expectation. I have been depressed, and have asked for prayer for that. It’s completely gone, but it lifted gradually over weeks and months. I have prayed for healing from adrenal fatigue which is completely gone, so that I can write for long hours. My reading speed is not back to what it was by any measure, so I asked for prayer for that yesterday.

I am gradually being delivered from my addiction/habit of emotional overeating. I’ve lost 13 pounds over the last months, as this is lifting, but prayed for complete deliverance from using sugar, chocolate and white flour products to raise my spirits and change my mood. That prayer I believe was granted!

So when I go up for prayer, I do go with the expectation that God will answer, that he finds it hard to keep his hands off us when we ask for healing. I am open to instantaneous healings and deliverances (which I haven’t yet received), or to a long process of healing, transformation and deliverance being initiated at the moment of prayer—which is what has happened very often.

* * *

Anyway, last night, receiving prayer for healing was electric, my most powerful experience of the laying on of hands—and I have been a charismatic since I was 17, for 3 + decades! I felt my knees buckle; I burst into deep, soul-wrenching cathartic tears, a mixture of tears and laughter, each time I was prayed for.

“What is it about tears that should be so terrifying? the touch of God is marked by tears…deep, soul-shaking tears, weeping…it comes when that last barrier is down and you surrender yourself to health and wholeness”  (David Wilkerson, The Cross and the Switchblade”).

 I felt joy, I felt freedom. I felt healing. I felt I had been healed of what I asked for. And then, I just sat there for the 3-4 hours I was there, asking for “one touch from the King,” for the many areas of need in my life. And how many there are!

And I left joyful.

* * *

Should you go? Hmm. Read other reports. Go if you would like to spend a few hours in passionate worship, and have your faith reignited. The preaching will probably be good. The faith displayed will be contagious, and remind you of your first love.

Go if you would like to see a revival in its early days, still full of innocence. The baptism in the Holy Spirit is a baptism of love, as Andrew Murray says in his splendid book, “Absolute Surrender.” You will see much evidence of love, from the congregation, the stewards, and the lovely pastors, mostly big burly men, who pray for you in an unhurried, passionate way while encasing you in close bear hug. How adorable!

And I sure wouldn’t be surprised if you receive one touch from the King that changes everything!

UPDATE: Here are links to two more posts from our second visit to Cwmbran

At the Cwmbran Outpouring, I am Healed as the Healer says, “Rise, Take up your Pallet & Walk” (Part 1 of 2)

Comfort Eating, Emotional Eating, Compulsive Eating: Goodbye to All That

and  Follow up—On the Cwmbran Outpouring, the Wild Goose of the Holy Spirit and Waterfalls

 

Filed Under: In which I chase the wild goose of the Holy Spirit Tagged With: cwmbran outpouring, cwmbran revival, healing, revival, Richard Taylor, welsh revival 2013

“For the Want of a Pencil” Scott Berry on his work in the Philippines

By Anita Mathias

DatagKids13 I was ankle deep in mud, trying to brush away disease-carrying mosquitoes that seemed to be fascinated with my exposed legs, arms and face. I had a 30 pound concrete construction block in each hand, which made swatting at nasty bugs just a little difficult. The tropical conditions on the Philippines island of Bohol were offering me some challenges that I’d never had to deal with before. The bugs were one thing, the daily rain storms that deluged the countryside were another. And then there was the heat — relentless and disinterested in my personal discomfort.

I was on a short-term mission trip to the Philippines with an organization whose purpose was to construct church buildings for needy congregations. Now I’m not a construction guy. I’m a former high school special education teacher who was just trying to do something “good”. The situation I found myself in was surreal. For those of you who have never been in a third-world country before, let me sum it up by saying, life there is truly different.

There was a dining area set up next to the work site. It was a simple affair of a few wooden benches and tables sitting under a very large tarp. It was surly no four star restaurant, but it served our needs.   The first few days there were rainy. The mornings weren’t too bad, but part way through the day, the rain would come. Sometimes it was torrential, but most of the time it was just a slow steady rain.

During one of those rainy days, I found myself hanging out under the tarp at the dining area. I wasn’t the only one. A few of the Filipino workers had also come in to take a break from the weather.  There was a young man whom I had noticed several times there at the work site. This boy was, in my estimation, of high school age. His name was Raymond. Once I began to recognize people a little better and put names to the faces, I soon realized that Raymond wasn’t just at the work site once in a while – he was there every day.

Raymond

Raymond

“Raymond,” I asked him. “Why aren’t you in school today?” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. This was his church and his mom was one of the kitchen staff helping prepare our food. But his shrug wasn’t an answer to my question.

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“I don’t have a pencil,” was his reply.

“What do you mean, you don’t have a pencil?” I queried further.

Later on I spoke to Raymond’s mother and she confirmed that the boy was not in school due to a lack of basic school supplies. I was stunned. She went on to explain that she had many children. If she had any hopes of the younger ones ever completing the sixth grade, the older ones would have to drop out of school. There simply wasn’t enough money to go around.

I did some research and found that the typical Filipino student could get through almost an entire year of school for around twenty-five dollars. The older students, like Raymond, did have some extra requirements for school, but even then the amount they needed was minimal. I vowed that Raymond would go to school. I would ‘support’ him so that he could finish his education. It’s one thing to chose to live a simple Filipino life, but it’s another to live that life because you didn’t have a choice. It was my goal to make sure that Raymond did indeed have that choice.

The next week, I met several other children who were in situations similar to Raymond’s.  I soon learned that nearly 40 percent of all Filipino children are unable to finish elementary school because they don’t have basic school supplies.  Nearly half of these kids never finish high school for the same reason.

I had been truly touched by these children and their situation.  When I returned to the US, I began a non-profit organization with the primary purpose of providing school supplies to needy Filipino children so that they could at least graduate from high school.

I’ve since returned to the island of Bohol, where I’ve met with several children and their families who need help.  One of the communities is an isolated village called Datag.  Many of the children who live there don’t even have shoes to wear.  Many more don’t have proper clothes, and they surely don’t have the supplies they need for school.   School starts in the middle of June, so Educate: Bohol has spent the past several weeks gather clothing and shoes for these children.  We’re also collecting funds so that we can purchase and distribute school supplies.DCCKids1

It’s a very emotional assignment for me, but I wouldn’t trade it for any other.  The Filipinos are beautiful people who work hard and appreciate God’s blessings.  I will be back in June to help with the distribution of school supplies, clothing, and shoes.  But there’s another village nearby  . . . and the situation there is actually worse.   Through God’s guiding hand, I’m ready for the challenge.

* * *

Scott Berry has published Return to the Middle, a non-fiction account of his recent experiences working as a missionary in the Philippines.

“We’ve all struggled with trying to do the ‘right’ thing,” says Berry. “But sometimes not everyone agrees with our actions and we quickly find ourselves in an uncomfortable conflict. Often, that struggle beats us down and, if we don’t take criticism well, we just quit. That’s what happened to me. But God offered me the chance to try one more time. He opened a door. I stepped through it.”

Return to the Middle is the story of how Berry allowed God to lead him through not only a foreign land, but also through foreign places in his heart.

His pastor and close friend, Tom Caffery, spoke of the man he met upon Berry’s return from the Philippines: “Like most who experience a mission trip, Scott was struck at the heart of what we can accomplish for Christ’s mission today.”

Berry founded a public charity, Educate: Bohol, as a response to his visit to the Philippines. He has since returned to the province of Bohol, where he has provided school supplies and other educational needs for over 125 children.

“The need there is tremendous,” Berry says. “We take so much for granted here in America. I wish everyone could have the opportunity to come visit the Philippines with me. I’d love to introduce you to some of the kindest people in the world who work extremely hard every day of the week just to survive. We can send a Filipino child back to school for an entire year for only 35 dollars. An American family spends that much on one fast-food meal that they don’t even remember a day later.”

Berry is a former special education teacher who taught in an inner-city school in Albuquerque. His passion for writing started at a young age and continued on through college. His writing skills were sharpened when he worked as a military historian, writing about the various operations of U.S. Air Force units around the world. Upon retirement from the military, Berry moved to Rio Rancho, New Mexico, just outside of Albuquerque, where he lives with his wife. They have an adult son and daughter and two grandsons.

Here is a link to Scott’s website and blog Educate: Bohol that describes his work further.

Filed Under: In which I proudly introduce my guest posters

In which I Trip, Dust off my Knees, and Get Back into the Race

By Anita Mathias

 

 

Do not bring us to the test, Jesus advises us to pray–which suggests that those who pray this may be spared much testing and temptation. But in this world, there will be trouble (John 16:33) as Jesus reminds us in his luminous last supper discourse.

And one purpose of being brought to the test is that it reveals our hearts, our characters, and where we really are in our spiritual lives.

And the exam results often surprise us!

* * *

I guess I’ve failed a test in the last 11 days—but want to do better.

My memoir will be published next April, with the manuscript due on Dec 31st.

My editor has a fairly systematic plan with week-by-week tasks. Last week’s was to turn in an outline of the book. This week’s was to work out how many chapters or parts thereof I am to write per week between now and Dec. 31st. Divide the estimated word count of the chapters by the number of hours I have to write each week, and get the word count to aspire to per working hour.

All well and good—except the book has 3 major sections, and I have just finished outlining the first one. So 6 days behind, and only a third of the way through last week’s task.

Gosh, what a mass of material. I have actually written the book in first draft, but there are still dozens of pages of material I haven’t used, and because I wrote the book, topically, chapter by chapter, without an outline, there is some repetition.

However, the logical, orderly, obsessive part of me is now delighting in a firm structure, seeing chapters emerge organically, putting everything in its correct place.

* * *

Anyway, so I am working on what I should have turned in last Sunday, and am about a third of the way through, and am even working on Sunday which I rarely do.

Busyness, ah busyness, I have steadfastly attempted to avoid busyness for much of my adult life.  Stress and I don’t get on.

I tend to eat comfort food when stressed. I cut back on exercise.

And alas, I’ve done both this week, reduced my walking from 7-8K to 2-3 K (which meant I didn’t think that well, or sleep that well, or feel that happy). Ate a bit too much chocolate and cookies and sweet treats for the high instead of getting the high from “endogenous morphine” or endorphins  by running (which meant I didn’t think that well, or sleep that well, or feel that happy). Compromised on prayer and Bible study.

In short, I behaved in exactly the sort of way I would counsel my own daughters, or any young woman I was mentoring not to behave.

* * *

But this is not the way I want to write, and this is not the way I am going to write.

This is the way I want to write: I want to see myself hugged in the Father’s embrace.

I want to feel him breathe on me. I want to feel him breathe his Holy Spirit on me (John 20:22).

I want to write from that breathing on me. That is the only way I want to write.

I want to write in that dance with the Father, in union with him.

I want my writing to be worship. I want my writing to be joy.

But by the help of God that is how I am going to write.

* * *

 And guess what? I know this from many other experiences of falling and repentance.

When I write in this way, I will write better, write faster, write more tirelessly, “running, and not growing weary, walking and not being faint. (IS 40:31).” For I will be relying on refreshing from eternal springs.

Seek the Kingdom of God and his righteousness (active voice) and “all these things will be added to you,” (passive voice, added to you, by the mercy of God who honours those who honour him).

And it took a week of “running” and writing in my own strength, and not getting very far for me to see that.

And now for another week of writing with the help of Christ who strengthens me.

Filed Under: In which I explore writing and blogging and creativity, In which I resolve to live by faith, Writing and Blogging Tagged With: Trust, writing

To Be Wise on Social Media

By Anita Mathias

 

 

We saw, yesterday, the surreal spectacle of the entire might of Boston Police Dept., hundreds of officers, hunting down  Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, a lone 19 year old teenager, whose murders and maimings at the Marathon and later were unquestionably evil.

 

But I found myself thinking of a terrified fox, its heart bursting with exhaustion, followed by a hunt, tireless men on horses, with well rested dogs. Obviously, I didn’t want more murders, but with the human instinct to side with the underdog, I thought of his terror, felt sorry for him, and found myself praying for him.

My laptop was at hand, so I tweeted, “Let’s also pray for Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, a misguided, terrified Chechen boy hunted by the entire might of the US!”

* * *

Oh my goodness! I was astonished by the reaction. I was characterized with filthy, filthy language I cannot bring myself to repeat; people hoped he would murder my family. People asked if I were crazy, suggested that I  …oh incredible, abusive language. (Interestingly, apparently the abusive people weren’t even following me, but saw retweets).

Roy said it was if I lobbed a hand grenade into a mob, and just stood there. He said, “You must have expected it.”

I honestly did not. If anyone’s hung out a lot with Jesus and his words, there is nothing astonishing about praying for an individual hunted by hundreds. If this were a movie, presumably people would be crossing their fingers for him. It’s praying for our enemies; it’s what keeps us balanced and human and keeps our angry, limited hearts sane. Yes, praying for your enemies—it keeps you sane, and keeps your heart sweet.

I deleted the tweet within ten minutes, but it had been retweeted, and so I got some abuse for hours. Block. Block. Block. Delete. Delete. Delete.

* * *

What stuns me most is that I honestly did not see it coming. Would I have tweeted it if I did? Not directly, no. Who wants to expose yourself to upset? But if I felt Christ wanted me to say it, I would have tweeted a direct quote from his words. Hey, you said it first, Jesus. Let them take it up with you.

* * *

Instead I prayed a different prayer (privately this time!). Lord, give me wisdom in social media.

And mentally slowed down, imagined myself kneeling before Jesus, imagined his hands on my head, my brain, and particles of his divine power coursing from his hands through my head, through my brain, changing it.

And I got up smiling, knowing my prayer had been answered. I would be wise in social media. Which doesn’t mean that I would be immune to anger and hostility and negativity and criticism on social media (or life)–for who is? It just that I would use words not carelessly or foolishly, but with wisdom, reflection, and deliberation, as a power for good (and then, one can withstand negativity).

My prayer would be answered, instantly—or gradually. Though it might need to be prayed again. And again.  

* * *

49 The royal official said, “Sir, come down before my child dies.”

50 “Go,” Jesus replied, “your son will live.”

The man took Jesus at his word and departed. 51 While he was still on the way, his servants met him with the news that his boy was living. 52 When he inquired as to the time when his son got better, they said to him, “Yesterday, at one in the afternoon, the fever left him.”

53 Then the father realized that this was the exact time at which Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” ” (John 4 49-53).

* * *

Taking Jesus at his word, the sublime simplicity of faith.

How easy it makes our spiritual lives. Ask and you shall receive. Ask, leave the package of desire in his hands, and go on your way.

For you have left it in very good hands.  “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. 15 And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.” (I John 5: 14-15)

And so, in simple faith, I know I will be wiser in social media.

 

Filed Under: In which I explore writing and blogging and creativity, Writing and Blogging Tagged With: social media, taking Jesus at his word, Twitter, wisdom

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My Books

Wandering Between Two Worlds: Essays on Faith and Art

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Francesco, Artist of Florence: The Man Who Gave Too Much

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The Story of Dirk Willems

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Premier Digital Awards 2015 - Finalist - Blogger of the year
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Recent Posts

  •  On Not Wasting a Desert Experience
  • A Mind of Life and Peace in the Middle of a Global Pandemic
  • On Yoga and Following Jesus
  • Silver and Gold Linings in the Storm Clouds of Coronavirus
  • Trust: A Message of Christmas
  • Life- Changing Journaling: A Gratitude Journal, and Habit-Tracker, with Food and Exercise Logs, Time Sheets, a Bullet Journal, Goal Sheets and a Planner
  • On Loving That Which Love You Back
  • “An Autobiography in Five Chapters” and Avoiding Habitual Holes  
  • Shining Faith in Action: Dirk Willems on the Ice
  • The Story of Dirk Willems: The Man who Died to Save His Enemy

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What I’m Reading

Childhood, Youth, Dependency: The Copenhagen Trilogy
Tove Ditlevsen

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Amazing Faith: The Authorized Biography of Bill Bright
Michael Richardson

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On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
Stephen King

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Acedia & me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer's Life
Kathleen Norris

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Opened Ground: Poems, 1966-96
Seamus Heaney


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anita.mathias

Writer, Blogger, Reader, Mum. Christian. Instaing Oxford, travel, gardens and healthy meals. Oxford English alum. Writing memoir. Lives in Oxford, UK

Images from walks around Oxford. #beauty #oxford # Images from walks around Oxford. #beauty #oxford #walking #tranquility #naturephotography #nature
So we had a lovely holiday in the Southwest. And h So we had a lovely holiday in the Southwest. And here we are at one of the world’s most famous and easily recognisable sites.
#stonehenge #travel #england #prehistoric England #family #druids
And I’ve blogged https://anitamathias.com/2020/09/13/on-not-wasting-a-desert-experience/
So, after Paul the Apostle's lightning bolt encounter with the Risen Christ on the road to Damascus, he went into the desert, he tells us...
And there, he received revelation, visions, and had divine encounters. The same Judean desert, where Jesus fasted for forty days before starting his active ministry. Where Moses encountered God. Where David turned from a shepherd to a leader and a King, and more, a man after God’s own heart.  Where Elijah in the throes of a nervous breakdown hears God in a gentle whisper. 
England, where I live, like most of the world is going through a desert experience of continuing partial lockdowns. Covid-19 spreads through human contact and social life, and so we must refrain from those great pleasures. We are invited to the desert, a harsh place where pruning can occur, and spiritual fruitfulness.
A plague like this has not been known for a hundred years... John Piper, after his cancer diagnosis, exhorted people, “Don’t Waste Your Cancer”—since this was the experience God permitted you to have, and He can bring gold from it. Pandemics and plagues are permitted (though not willed or desired) by a Sovereign God, and he can bring life-change out of them. 
Let us not waste this unwanted, unchosen pandemic, this opportunity for silence, solitude and reflection. Let’s not squander on endless Zoom calls—or on the internet, which, if not used wisely, will only raise anxiety levels. Let’s instead accept the invitation to increased silence and reflection
Let's use the extra free time that many of us have long coveted and which has now been given us by Covid-19 restrictions to seek the face of God. To seek revelation. To pray. 
And to work on those projects of our hearts which have been smothered by noise, busyness, and the tumult of people and parties. To nurture the fragile dreams still alive in our hearts. The long-deferred duty or vocation
So, we are about eight weeks into lockdown, and I So, we are about eight weeks into lockdown, and I have totally sunk into the rhythm of it, and have got quiet, very quiet, the quietest spell of time I have had as an adult.
I like it. I will find going back to the sometimes frenetic merry-go-round of my old life rather hard. Well, I doubt I will go back to it. I will prune some activities, and generally live more intentionally and mindfully.
I have started blocking internet of my phone and laptop for longer periods of time, and that has brought a lot of internal quiet and peace.
Some of the things I have enjoyed during lockdown have been my daily long walks, and gardening. Well, and reading and working on a longer piece of work.
Here are some images from my walks.
And if you missed it, a blog about maintaining peace in the middle of the storm of a global pandemic
https://anitamathias.com/2020/05/04/a-mind-of-life-and-peace/  #walking #contemplating #beauty #oxford #pandemic
A few walks in Oxford in the time of quarantine. A few walks in Oxford in the time of quarantine.  We can maintain a mind of life and peace during this period of lockdown by being mindful of our minds, and regulating them through meditation; being mindful of our bodies and keeping them happy by exercise and yoga; and being mindful of our emotions in this uncertain time, and trusting God who remains in charge. A new blog on maintaining a mind of life and peace during lockdown https://anitamathias.com/2020/05/04/a-mind-of-life-and-peace/
In the days when one could still travel, i.e. Janu In the days when one could still travel, i.e. January 2020, which seems like another life, all four of us spent 10 days in Malta. I unplugged, and logged off social media, so here are some belated iphone photos of a day in Valetta.
Today, of course, there’s a lockdown, and the country’s leader is in intensive care.
When the world is too much with us, and the news stresses us, moving one’s body, as in yoga or walking, calms the mind. I am doing some Yoga with Adriene, and again seeing the similarities between the practice of Yoga and the practice of following Christ.
https://anitamathias.com/2020/04/06/on-yoga-and-following-jesus/
#valleta #valletamalta #travel #travelgram #uncagedbird
Images from some recent walks in Oxford. I am copi Images from some recent walks in Oxford.
I am coping with lockdown by really, really enjoying my daily 4 mile walk. By savouring the peace of wild things. By trusting that God will bring good out of this. With a bit of yoga, and weights. And by working a fair amount in my garden. And reading.
How are you doing?
#oxford #oxfordinlockdown #lockdown #walk #lockdownwalks #peace #beauty #happiness #joy #thepeaceofwildthings
Images of walks in Oxford in this time of social d Images of walks in Oxford in this time of social distancing. The first two are my own garden.  And I’ve https://anitamathias.com/2020/03/28/silver-and-gold-linings-in-the-storm-clouds-of-coronavirus/ #corona #socialdistancing #silverlinings #silence #solitude #peace
Trust: A Message of Christmas He came to earth in Trust: A Message of Christmas  He came to earth in a  splash of energy
And gentleness and humility.
That homeless baby in the barn
Would be the lynchpin on which history would ever after turn
Who would have thought it?
But perhaps those attuned to God’s way of surprises would not be surprised.
He was already at the centre of all things, connecting all things. * * *
Augustus Caesar issued a decree which brought him to Bethlehem,
The oppressions of colonialism and conquest brought the Messiah exactly where he was meant to be, the place prophesied eight hundred years before his birth by the Prophet Micah.
And he was already redeeming all things. The shame of unwed motherhood; the powerlessness of poverty.
He was born among animals in a barn, animals enjoying the sweetness of life, animals he created, animals precious to him.
For he created all things, and in him all things hold together
Including stars in the sky, of which a new one heralded his birth
Drawing astronomers to him.
And drawing him to the attention of an angry King
As angelic song drew shepherds to him.
An Emperor, a King, scholars, shepherds, angels, animals, stars, an unwed mother
All things in heaven and earth connected
By a homeless baby
The still point on which the world still turns. The powerful centre. The only true power.
The One who makes connections. * * *
And there is no end to the wisdom, the crystal glints of the Message that birth brings.
To me, today, it says, “Fear not, trust me, I will make a way.” The baby lay gentle in the barn
And God arranges for new stars, angelic song, wise visitors with needed finances for his sustenance in the swiftly-coming exile, shepherds to underline the anointing and reassure his parents. “Trust me in your dilemmas,” the baby still says, “I will make a way. I will show it to you.” Happy Christmas everyone.  https://anitamathias.com/2019/12/24/trust-a-message-of-christmas/ #christmas #gemalderieberlin #trust #godwillmakeaway
Look, I’ve designed a journal. It’s an omnibus Look, I’ve designed a journal. It’s an omnibus Gratitude journal, habit tracker, food and exercise journal, bullet journal, with time sheets, goal sheets and a Planner. Everything you’d like to track.  Here’s a post about it with ISBNs https://anitamathias.com/2019/12/23/life-changing-journalling/. Check it out. I hope you and your kids like it!
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