Saturday Papers and Interesting Post.

I'm a girl of simple pleasures. I love Saturdays with no particular agenda, the smell of freshly laundered clothes, tea in big, round mugs, the smell of books (old and new) Ikea, the weekend papers and interesting post. The latter two are particularly relevant and exclusive to this week because, fortunately, I am able to enjoy my tea in suitable cups, books and fresh smelling clothes on a fairly regular basis (I am, however, not always surrounded by affordable, flatpack furniture, quirky textiles and awesome meatballs. Sad times).

This week I have been inundated with exciting post for no particular reason and it has made me very, very happy. I have received numerous cards from extended family congratulating me on my A-Level results, I have had cards of sympathy, therewas a letter from the lovely Cecelia in Indiana telling me about her new exciting college adventures, then there was the card and accompanying letter from a very special friend bursting with encouraging words and telling me to keep my chin-up and lastly there were two letters of varying sizes from the University of Bristol containing leaflets, schedules, maps and guidebooks for myenrollment in October. My mother will happily describe the squeals of delight that could be heard every afternoon at about four o'clock when her grumpy, exhausted daughter came home from work to see something other than a bank-statement addressed to her on the doormat. I was able to sit by the window in the kitchen with a mug of Clipper and open all this lovely mail (hm, I really need to get a letter-opener like the one Paris has in Gilmore Girls...)

Today was my last carefree, work-free, duty-free Saturday before I leave home so I had to make sure there was time to sit down and read the weekend papers. We used to buy the Times but now that my father has recently joined the Labour Party we are, I quote, a 'Murdoch-free household' (translation: we buy the Guardian) I confess that whilst my political sympathies are probably more in line with the left-wing newspaper, the writing, particularly in the magazine, isn't as fun or humorous as it is in the Times. Now don't get me wrong, there are some excellent articles and the Blind Date column is pretty amusing, but I miss my Slummy-Mummy and You Know You're Single When...I guess I find the 'socialist' journalism just a little bit too serious. This afternoon was spent at my grandparents house in Barnes where I knew I would find the remaining weekend broadsheets lying on the kitchen table (gosh I am so sad!) So my evening was spent in the garden happily perusing through The Times and The Telegraph, standing firmagainst the temperamental August weather in true British fashion and I can confirm that The Times is definitely the wittier and most enjoyable out of the three and subsequently I pestered my Dad about buying the Times (only at weekends) for the rest of our stay. Sometimes I'm a terribledaughter. Anyways, I love the weekend papers because, like Saturday mornings, they hold a promise. They promise you that exciting things will happen because it's not a weekday and therefore ANYTHING is possible, plus they have more than one section and the week's news is easily summarised into one large paper rather than 5 little ones. That's another thing about The Times, it'savailable in tabloid size making it FAR easier to read. WIN. Anyhoo, so today I got to read three newspaper magazines and was able to drink a caffeinated beverage with each, I got to indulge in some seriously good writing and some seriously good tea. All in all a super-dooper, fantastical way to spend a Saturday. Goodnight.

A very profound cowardly lion

This doodle was given to me by a girl I met at the 'Over the Rainbow' auditions in February. We had been waiting for over two hours and had got chatting about anything and everything in order to divert ourselves from nervous boredom. Naturally we were both hoping to pursue careers in the theatre industry but whilst I was planning to bide my time studying languages she was training to become an illustrator. As I sat there brushing up on my verbs she was bent over her sketchbook drawing characters from the Wizard of Oz and when each of us went off to audition she would rip out a character and give it to us before wishing us good luck. She left the waiting room before me but as she did, she tore off the last remaining character, the cowardly lion, handed it to me and wished me well in life.

I've kept this picture in my journal ever since and I always seem to turn to it when I'm feeling anything but courageous. Today I got more white tac and needed something else to fill up my 'Wall of Wonderfulness' so I decided to fish the picture out of my journal and stick it on my wall to remind myself to be brave and to stand strong on the promises that have been made to me. I confess that this seemingly insignificant pencil drawing is the one thing that has held me together this afternoon. Going about my everyday existence is harder than expected, my town and my church are ringing with the echoes of early summer laughter and joy filling my heart with an indescribable pain. There have been so many moments over the past week when I have longed for the sound of her voice or the happiness of her smile knowing full well that the only way I will experience these things is in my head or through photos. I have resulted to asking God to give her a hug from me because I'm sure hugs are a massive part of heaven and it helps me feel connected to her even if it's just for a second. It still hurts, but I'm moving forward, I don't feel brave or particularly confident, but like the cowardly lion I know that there is a courage deep inside, the sort that everyone has in order that they might live and love, and there are certain things, like this cute, little drawing given to me by someone who knew me for all of 2 hours and probably has no idea about my current circumstances, that help to unlock it and remind us to take hold of this fearlessness and to go on with life a little bolder and little more determined.

Honour Spotlight: Zoe Hayes

I'm so excited about this post because it's the first one in the series and I get to write about one of my favourite ladies in the whole world. For those of you who don't know her, Zoe is an awesome, beautiful lady at my church who works for Tearfund, adores Snowboarding, drinks hot chocolate, wears lots of cool clothes and is always busy planning or speaking at some big event. One thing that I love about Zoe is how she is so fearless in her singleness, instead of dedicating her life to trying to find a husband she is completely committed to God's work with Tearfund and with events such as Soul Survivor and Spring Harvest. She gives me hope that the single life will never be boring and, if you let him, God will use us to do fantastic things. If I'm honest, I can't quite believe that Zoe isn't married - she is SUCH a catch! As well as being a brilliant speaker and organiser she is also incredibly funny and personable. I love chatting to her and getting her advice on things, she has been there for me at key points in my life whether it's future plans or relationships she is always willing to listen to me babble on and on. She also comes to watch my plays and encourages me to pursue my dreams. Over Easter I had the opportunity to work with Zoe as part of the youth team at Spring Harvest and I had such a brilliant time. It was so good to see Zoe in action and I was sooooooo proud of her :-)

Another thing I admire about Zoe is her honesty, she is completely genuine about everything from her faith to her taste in men - I know she has a thing for Hugh Jackman because she and my mother went very quiet during a particular scene in Australia. I wanted Zoe to be the first person on my honour list because she is one of the key role-models in my life and I have so much love and respect for her. I believe she completely embodies the concept of a godly woman because she's dedicated, kind, loving and so much fun to be around. She is such an inspiration to us all and I just wanted her fabulousness (yes that IS a word!) to be displayed for the whole world to see. I LOVE YOU ZOE.

*The picture was taken on the final day of Spring Harvest...I needn't say anymore!

All My World's a Stage

There was a moment last Summer during my time in Hull with National Youth Music Theatre where I found myself lying on a stage with the rest of the 25 cast members pretending to be a blade of grass. The musical number was called 'Work' and described the lives of the hired workers in the fields. After some rather convincing grass swaying we had to lie still as if the workers had gone to sleep whilst another scene continued at the back of the stage. At this point in the show I was lying on my back facing the ceiling. I remember looking up into the roof of the theatre, at the set, at the ropes, at the lights, I remember the music fading slightly in the background as my fellow actors' dialogue rang above it. I remember inhaling the sweet, musty, sweaty smell of backstage, I remember gently pressing my fingers into the splintered wood of the stage and being overwhelmed by a sense of euphoria, a completeness and a peace such as I have never experienced. The theatre is my life, the true expression of myself and my character. I love the sense of community, I cherish the moments of teamwork and selflessness and I am so grateful for the outlet it provides, for the opportunity to release my emotional tension in an exaggerated yet structured setting.

I haven't been part of a show for over a year now and when I was up at Edinburgh festival last weekend I realised that something inside me had died. As I sat in the audience and watched performance after performance, when I saw the curtain-call, noticed the waythe cast responded to each other I felt so frustrated and upset. I'm not interested in fame or personal glory, I just want to perform. I want to nestle myself within the four walls of the theatre, blinded by lights and surrounded by beautiful music. I miss singing, like REALLY singing. I miss the momentum and impact of collective singing. Whilst at the fringe I met up with some of my friends from my old drama school and they challenged me about my lack of performances this year. Though they understood that I wanted to concentrate on school work they were curious about my future plans and wanted to make sure that I hadn't given up on theatre altogether. I guess this sabbatical from the stage has just made me even more passionate about the whole thing, I'm already planning to go show crazy at university! The theatre is one of the only places where I feel a sense of belonging and I can never deny myself performing opportunities again. I've restocked my spotify musical playlist, I've been researching monologues and booking tickets for more shows. I'm getting myself back on track, back on the circuit and back on the stage :-)

A New Project

One of the things I love about Abundant Life Church is their dedication to honouring people. I decided that when I got home I would start a monthly honour post on my blog just to show people how much they mean to me and how I admire them. Interestingly enough my friend Sophie had a similar idea and about 2 hours ago we had a very excited text conversation about it, we are both overwhelmed by the incredible friends and role models that surround us and what better way to express those feelings than in a blog!? I'm naturally a Glass-Half-Full sorta gal but I want to take it one step further and instead of looking out for ways to criticise and bring people down I want to always be on the look out for ways to encourage and build-up. So, stay tuned for August's honour post it's gonna be a goodun'.

Sunglasses

I can remember a conversation I had with my friend on the playground at primary school about the power of eyes. She said confidently that eyes were the key to people's souls, which is why you should never look a stranger straight in the eye because then they would know what you were thinking and feeling and would subsequently attack you. Now I am well aware that this conversation was accompanied with a heavy dose of ignorance, stranger-danger and an obsession with telling each other scary stories, so I can say with absolutely certainty that I don't believe that eyes are the keys to people souls. I do, however, believe that our eyes reveal a lot about ourselves. They have different outfits for exhaustion, fear, love, sadness, sometimes they clothe themselves in tear juice and other times they sparkle with health and happiness. I love eyes, they are my favourite feature to draw and they are often, in my opinion, the crowning glory of a person's face.

For most of my life I have been addicted to sunglasses. Even as a toddler I would wear them constantly. My friends will tell you that I am rarely without my aviators and I will wear sunglasses for as long as it is acceptable (late spring to early autumn) I LOVE THEM. I love them because they instantly up my cool factor, they hide my naked, make-up-less eyes, they allow me to indulge in people watching without drawing attention to myself and they often save me from conversations I really don't want to have. In the past few weeks my sunglasses have done more than improve my appearance, they have hidden my tears and my bloodshot eyes. Two days after Annie's death I was drinking coffee in my favourite coffee house, Santa Fe and I suddenly burst into tears, everyone immediately started staring at me and I was able to whip out my glasses, shove them on my face and hurry out the door. I walked past many people on the way home and, thanks to my sunglasses, not one of them noticed my pain.

On the morning of Annie's funeral I met Laura in Starbucks. I love Laura for her brutal honesty, she is always ready to listen and to slap me in to shape. That morning she challenged me to remove my metaphorical sunglasses and to be real about my emotions. She reminded me that there is no fast-track card out of grief, that it's a long, painful process and your condition only improves if you make a visit at every stop along the way. Last night I couldn't sleep, so I read through my journal. I was reminded of my conversation with Laura and was convicted about hiding my tears on the way to work that morning with my sunglasses. The truth is I am frightened of showing people my eyes, because it makes me feel naked and vulnerable. I don't want people to see me cry, I don't want to be seen as someone who wallows in their misery, I want to appear happy and together.

But I'm not. Tonight as I write this, I feel completely alone. There is no potential somebody, I have no feelings for anybody, Annie is no longer here and Laura is miles and miles away. There is no one whose image in my daydreams brings comfort and hope. There is just me and my passions tossing and turning in the darkness. Tonight I cling white-kuncked to the only three things that remain once everything has been stripped away: FAITH, LOVE AND HOPE. Faith in an eternal, loving, omnipresent God, love for my friends, family, life and hope for my future. Even though I sit typing this is the cosy solitude of my bedroom, my edges sanded down with my raw emotions so that I am now a circle trying to feel at home in a square, I know that I'm going to be okay. Sometimes I just need to remove the sunglasses and be honest with myself and the people around me.

Rocknations

6Months ago I was pretty determined not to go to Rocknations, for one thing I couldn't afford to and for another I wasn't overly impressed with the conference the last time I went.Furthermore, I hate hype, so when people get obsessive over things particularly christian events my enthusiasm drops like a sack of potatoes. It was my friends Annie and Sophie whoeventually persuaded me to sign up and pray the money in - they told me that whilst I may not get anything out of it I still had lots to contribute. Sure enough the money came through and last week, I, along with 70 other tweens, teens and twenty-somethings spent four days in a very posh hotel in Bradford walking to and from Abundant Life Church. It has definitely been one of the most significant moments of my Summer.

One of the highlights of my time at Rocknations was the opportunity to spend time with my youth group. I loved being able to go deeper than the usual 'Hi, how are you?, how's your week been? how's school? what's your name again!?' I was lucky enough to have 4 awesome girlies in my group and I loved all the conversations we had on our walks up to the church. They made me so proud and gave me so much hope, their faith and passion are inspirational. I also have the privilege of mentoring 2 other very gorgeous girlies and I found it so refreshing and uplifting to grab coffee with them and go through their notes, opinions, dreams, fears and to pray with them. God really spoke to me through these 'mentoring' sessions and I began to feel less like a vegetable and more like Ellie Jackson again. It was also really good to spend time with my friends who were also leaders, the bible talks about treating men and women like brothers and sisters and over those four days they really began to feel like my spiritual family. I had an amazing DMC with one of these 'brothers' and he really built me up and encouraged me and it was so special to cry, pray and share with the girls in my room. Every day one of us would crumble and the other two would pick up the pieces. That is love in practice.

Those who know me well will know how I feel about RPM in that I am often very cynical about them. However, on hearing them live I have to say that I was very wrong about them. I enjoyed their songs and they generally led worship really well. Even so, there were moments where I felt like they were more interested in playing us their songs than leading us in worship, something which was only emphasised when they did an autograph signing after the evening meeting. This is where Parachute Band really raised the bar on worship leading. They appeared on the second night of the conference, a bunch of guys from New Zealand who travel all over their country collecting songs from local churches and putting them onto albums. This meant that every single song was well structured and incredibly powerful, their set was not about their talent or selling albums, it was about leading people to worship and everyone I spoke to after the conference felt they connected with the spirit more with Parachute Band than any other worship band.

I am also generally quite skeptical about the Gambills, and once again my cynicism was overridden by the outstanding material that was presented to us. Every single preach hit different areas of my soul, in particular Steve Gambill's on putting our dreams into an 'Isaac' Box to show that we are handing them over to God and his leadership seminar on increasing capacity (apparently sleep isn't the answer!) Abs Niblock's word on decision making was also incredible. Again, the teenagers I spoke to after these meetings were deeply impacted by these talks and I know that many attitudes have been changed forever.

The concept of prioritising character development and our relationship with God before our talents and dreams was especially prominent. I was speaking to one guy who wants to be a worship leader and I had the privilege of praying with him, asking God to put humility at the centre of his character. He recognised that God is ultimately in control of his future and that talent alone will get him nowhere.

That is the idea that I have taken away with me. I arrived at the conference feeling emotionally drained and completely useless. I was running on empty and felt like I had nothing left to give. Yet God still used me in my brokenness, he showed me that despite feeling fragile and vulnerable it was his strength in my core that kept me going and pulled me back together. He forced me to put the needs of the young people in my care before my own and made it clear that by doing this I would be taking a step further along the healing process. How great is our God!?