Clarie

Please sponsor me (again)

2007-09-28T07:11:31Z

lj changes

2007-07-17T12:10:37Z

Hi, this is Clarie's livejournal. It is updated on a fairly regular (i.e. at least monthly basis) but from now on all articles will be able to be viewed by livejournal friends only, or through friends on facebook.
The back catalogue of articles may be changed to a similar setting over time.
If you do not have a livejournal or a facebook account, but are (or were) a friend of mine who wishes to keep reading this and keep up with what's going on in my life, please do not be discouraged. They are both easy and free to get and I will willingly add you to my friends list (if you choose a pseudonym, you'll have to explain who you are to be added.)
If you have a very understandable dislike of such communities, please don't feel shut out in any way what so ever. I love seeing my friends and phone/email/face to face contact is always highly preferable anyway.

Caving log: Ogof Daren Cilau, 13/04/07

2007-04-15T13:29:07Z

13/04/07 Ogof Daren Cilau, Time Machine
Andy Snook, Clarie Morton, Fi Crozier
7.5 hours

The Adventures of Ogof Daren Cilau.

Once upon a time three fair maidens had set upon the mighty Ogof Daren Cilau, cave of wonderment and terrors, but had been defeated therein. For whilst Fiona, princess of note amongst the fair hills of the Mendip, had climbed the awesome ladder up the Cliffs of Insanity her sweet companions had turned back in fear for the ladder was high and they were but weak.

But Princess Fiona was not of the temperament to be beaten and had long dreamed of returning to the cave. So also had one of her companions. The maiden Clarie was dark and small of stature, but her heart was steady and ashamed of her previous fear she wished to conquer the ladder and reach their grail: that hallowed cavern known only as 'the Time Machine.' Together they had resolved to return, and one spring day when the daffodils had finished blooming and the sun was rising over the dark city of Brigstowe they called upon the services of the Knight Errant Andy and set off to those wild hills in the west.

Sir Andy had accompanied the two maidens in adventures before, and knowing of his strength and steadfastness they entrusted to him their journey. He guided them faithfully, and there was no adventure to be had until they arrived at the foot of the mighty escarpment. They had dismounted, and unladen their poor beast of the equipment necessary for that day's venture when forsooth! Around the corner appeared the fearsome Llangottock dragon, with smoke pouring from his nostrils, and steam arising where the heat of his breath met the cool morning mist.

Undaunted, Princess Fiona stood her ground against the mighty beast, and with stinging strokes of her sword defended her right to be upon the mountainside and to face the caves. Though he breathed fire, eventually the dragon withdrew to his den with grumblings of defeat. Sir Andy, fearing for their mounts' safety in their absence, advised finding safer stabling down the hill.

This was done and after final preparations, Clarie wove a magic spell to tell of their day's intentions to Sir Stuart, Hero of the Wessex and beau of Princess Fi.

Onwards and upwards then, bracken under foot and the baa-ing of sheep in their ears, till they came upon that grim rockface, silent and still against the clear blue sky of the mountain top. There was no pool outside now, nor no watcher in it, and it was in peace the travellers sought the small gap that marked their entrance to the cave. Ever first, Fi led the way, with Sir Andy following suit. Clarie looked at the sky one last time, and with a deep breath, forsook the pleasant morning light to crawl after the knight errant's disappearing feet.

Two body lengths in, and the darkness and torment ahead almost crushed the brave knight's spirit. He knew not what horrors lay ahead, but he would not pause, nor even cry out. Bravely he pressed on, though the passage about him was small, and the waters were cold. Relentless was that entrance way with no room for standing nor turning. Rare indeed was it to find room even sit and pause. Emerging into the open cavern at passage end was like finding snowdrops in spring, so free and peaceful did that first chamber feel.

Still Fi led ahead, confident and ebullient in the day's adventure. The maiden Clarie picked her way over the boulders quietly, aware of the rocks around her and the route ahead at every point. In her mind's eye was the ladder and the help she would then need. which knowledge now made her bold and determined to climb into the oxbow without assistance. Indeed, so much was her trepidation that when Princess Fi slipped and fell down the boulderous gap into Jigsaw Passage some small, disquiet part of her mind wondered whether they could now turn back without failure nor defeat.

But of course her love for her friend was vast in comparison to her fear and it was with relief and joy she found the princess had fallen only a few feet and had suffered little injury beyond bruising.

They wandered on, the roomy passage and easy path through jigsaw cracked mud slopes being rest to aching bodies. Our travellers found their way surely to the Big Chamber Nowhere Near the Entrance and the mystical log book of previous adventurers where lead can mark paper clearly even though it be damp. Sir Andy recorded their intention - one more clue, should they be prevented from returning, and Sir Stuart have to call out the cavalry. Ever present in Ogof Daren Cilau is the knowledge of the journey back and the dangers it presents to those who fall there.

Onwards and now upwards Clarie wisely guided them, into Eglwys Passage and across that traverse where the ground gives way and yet the passage continues on. Now down again, on bellies in snakelike mud which lies smooth over Daren's rocks of greeny-grey and black. Through eyeholes and down holes, into chambers named for dead saints and out through bouldered climbs our party pick their way. Here lies Preliminary Passage so called, but to the adventurers' minds not a passage but a canyon with walls stretched high above them beyond the extent of their light.

Here, here lies that ladder of which so much woe has been written and so much heartache suffered, and there, there it is, stretching away up a cliff face of insanity, wreathing and twisting in the light, up beyond sight and knowledge. But for Fi, both Princess and Warrior, there is no fear. Like a gazelle she leaps on to the ladder and climbs steadily up. She has faced this before and conquered and now the challenge calls her like the stag on a winter's morn calls his mate. Below her companions slide muddy rope through rings of metal, tautly aware of her weight as she rises. It is hard work on tired arms, and they pause and rest before Clarie begins her ascent.

Slower than her doyenne, placing both feet on each rung, she climbs steadily. Never looking down, or back, but upwards to Fi's light and voice and sweet treats held safe she ascends. Halfway there's a ledge where the ladder swings over rock and here she rests before mounting again on to that twisting hanging chain. Warned by Fi she panics not but slowly climbs again, legs and arms shaking and tired, and steel in her spirit stronger than that of the metal she holds on to as she climbs. The cliff edge slopes to the drop, and ropes secured to the canyon's edge give place to tie on as the maidens secure the rope for the faithful knight's ascent.

Sir Andy climbs rhythmically, fast at first and then slowly as the ladder twists beneath his weight. Undaunted by neither the height nor the 60 foot drop beneath him the knight greets his companions again and they laugh and grin, proud of their accomplishment.

With joy now our bold pioneers move on. The maiden Clarie stares in wonder at the village of models made by past explorers who waited here for their fellows to ascend the canyon. She must turn aside too quickly for beyond lies adventures and perils not yet seen. First comes a drop - a small drop, yes, and of little consequence for now, though later it too will have its turn in the tale.

Another cord speaks of the next challenge. It stretches around the wall of the cave and beneath it lies the tell-tale blackness of depth. No-one knows how deep, for our adventurers do not look - it may be five feet or fifty but the line will hold, no matter what the depth, and trusting their weight to it makes this test less than those already passed. With wings now they cave, passing rock and chamber easily until they reach pits in the cave floor. They could not stop, not now, with ladder passed and destination near, but here are climbs which make Fi pause and Sir Andy doubt.

Old rope leads down, loops tied for handholds and mayhaps footholds too, should chance require. And here Princess Fi is cautious, looking, testing, finding firm places for feet as she descends. But the hole is not wide and so Clarie drops quickly, safe in the rock around her and the ropes here placed. There is no fear in going down, for her, and she is content to leave 'up' until they must. She speaks encouragement up to Sir Andy, who wary of time and of injury appears unsure. But this trial too is passed, and the next, until they find the river for the first time since entering the cave. Water flows beneath their feet and the passage here is wide - wide enough for three to walk abreast, then four, then five, then more.

Sir Andy now surges forward and with a shout he hails the Time Machine. He mounts the pile of rocks and looks out across the cavernous hall. At the edges of sight his light disappears into darkness.

Here is a chamber beyond the senses - where the walls cannot be both seen with one torch, and the subterrane leads on and on. 100 feet wide it stretches, with huge boulders littering the floor. Mysterious lights placed moons ago show the way ahead, for one could walk and turn and lose their way in this cavern where darkness sucks at the edge of your light and the rock arches above you like the sky.

Here all time seems different - the world has slowed and it is you and the rock. Ages have passed since this cavern was formed and you are man like grass in the field and dust in the wind, here today and tomorrow gone. And yet here both man and rock belong together in stillness and silence broken only by distant water: large and small, old and young, temporal and eternal.

It has been four hours now since our explorers entered the cave. If they have not emerged in the same time again the alarm will sound. From Wales and from Mendips men and woman would come to seek out our explorers - not for being princesses, knights and maidens, but because they are human. First they will search for their mount, and on finding him still safely stabled (if he is, for who knows what the dragon will have done in their absence?) they will come to the mouth of the cave, hoping to find our heroes sitting in the sunlight outside. From there will be that protracted entrance in, through rock and water, and the lengthy walk to the log book. Would they find them there, nursing broken ankles? Or at the foot of the ladder, injured on the way down and lowered to the bottom, where they wait? Half their food is gone now, and half their water. They have light enough, but the cold would seep to their bones and exhaustion and inertia can kill, here in the depths of the mountainside.

Let us break this pondering. It is enough that it is time for our cavers to return - through river and up ropes, across pit and to the drop. At first our heroine leads the way, using her strength and agility to pull up the ropes and allow access to the way ahead. Clarie follows more circumspectly, espying out footholds before committing herself to the knotted hawsers. At one point her foot slips and their protector behind enables her to climb, using his own body as a support. As she comes to the traverse she requests the lead, and facing her fear traverses across: princess and knight nimbly following. A short way on and a yell from Sir Andy echoes through the cavern. In a flash his princess is beside him - up the short drop his foot slipped, and the rope there caught around his torch. Suspended by his helmet, he cried out and our princess deftly freed him so he could climb unhindered. Shaken, but stoic as ever, the brave noble clambers on towards the top of the ladder.

Here Princess Fi retrieves her magical descending device. She has carried it through the cave for this point - attaching it to the twisted cord hanging over the underground cliff face she plummets into the depth of the canyon, landing safely at the bottom. Her companions do not trust to this magic and must use their own strength to descend the ladder. Sir Andy follows next, stepping on to the ladder amidst the tangles of ropes and chains that hang from the rocks above, securing him from plunging to the depths and his death. From the half way ledge the ladder hangs at an angle, and rungs seem to be missing from beneath his feet. He finds the metal with his feet as a blind man searches for the roads' edge and descends steadily to the bottom. With Fi now securing the rope Clarie descends, most of her weight taken by the pair at the bottom.

From here the exit seems so close, and the way familiar - up canyon's end, through the limey St Valentine's chamber, into Eglwys passage. Sure of the turns they continue, through crawl and over traverse, emerging once again to the Big Chamber and the logbook. None have entered since them - they are alone in the cave. The journey is wearying now, and the hours are taking their toll. Our heroes sit and rest at the turn to the entrance series, taking a last drink. The cavern here seems smaller than it was 5 hours ago - the Time Machine has changed their scales of size, and warped their experience of time: already it seems a distant memory.

The exit is hard, a relentless series of squeezes and crawls, zigzag bends and tight rifts. Fi pushes ahead joyfully - not for her a fear of tight spaces but the joy and the thrill of pitting herself against a confining cave. Sir Andy has slowed now. He has tired of pushing his larger frame through such demanding passage. He rests where he can, though such opportunities are few here, giving his smaller friend time to catch up as Clarie contentedly crawls slowly through the passage. She is unconstricted by space but confined by conservation of energy. The last thrutch takes almost more effort than our adventurers can give but they gain sunshine and rest, the still evening air leaving a mist over the valley below.

Proud conquerors they, who did battle against Ogof Daren Cilau and win. The dragon is fearsome no more, for they have faced the cave and emerged victorious. With pity they pass his lair, and Clarie asks of her companions compassion for this sad creature, bitter in his loneliness, who knows nothing of the joys of going to the depths of the mountain and ones' self and finding what lies within.

At their mounts they weave magic once more - Sir Stuart will not call out the rescuers today, for they are safe and well and returning home. Their knight leads them back to the green Mendip hills through the darkening night. And as she dozes, safe in the saddle, Princess Fi begins to dream of the return and future adventures within the halls of the mountain king.

East where?

2006-12-29T11:52:22Z

Now here's the problem of not updating one's caving log immediately...
Last Saturday I went caving. I'm quite sure on this point - I distinctly remember sitting in the hut and talking about it and oh... the great ladders of fear.
Yep. Can't forget *that* one.

So, Eastwater cavern, 13 pots. Rich, Jude, Geoff, Clive Westlake (who is 67, and a fitter, harder, and more active caver than I'll ever be) and I.

Now Eastwater Cavern carries a reputation of being a hard, nasty cave. Admittedly, in all the times I've been there, I've never been able to stand up once, but I never thought it deserved it's reputation. I *like* small, crawling, sporting, squeezy caves where being pixie-ish is a bonus. What I don't like is massive exposed climbs where you are clinging to the wall of a rocky canyon by your fingertips, certain doom below and not emough strength to go up.

Which is precisely why I no longer like Eastwater,

We entered the cave, squeezed through the woggle press, which, as D noted previously here, a scout once died in. I was relieved to learn he died because a boulder crushed him whilst he was squeezing through, rather than he was stuck in it and no-one could get him out so he died of starvation or whatever.

Tootled on downwards to the top of the Twin Verticals: two 10m ladder pitches. Now ladders are ok - climbing up and down small aluminion bars attached with wires is fine. Sure you sway a bit, but there's a rope and it's safe. I went first and at the bottom discovered the ladder ran out before the pitch did. ('a 'pitch' 'or a 'pot' are vertical drops. This one was a very wide vertical drop, maybe 4 or so metres in diameter. I don't know how deep as my light didn't go that far.) 'Onwards' was a small gully in the side of the pot, which I duly climbed into, unhooked the rope, and waited for the tackle to be swung down to me.
Even having to reach out and grab it was fine. What wasn't fine was crawling on my belly down this small gully, dragging the ladder behind me, and realising that were my left leg to keep going in the direction it had been, both the ladder and I would end up falling a very long way down. And the nearest person to me was Clive, 5 metres away up a ladder.

This was when I started being scared.

Anyway, I got down, had a thankful piece of crawling before the next pitch, and this one I didn't go down first. Am rather glad of that, because Rich pointed out how to get off the ladder a metre or so above its end, at a tiny ledge in the edge of the pit.. and once again, a wall-hugging climb down to the next bit of floor.

I'm afraid the rest of the cave was rather overshadowed by the thought that coming back required a nasty, exposed climb, then reaching to get to the bottom of a free hanging ladder. Twice.

Still, we went down the bottom, squeezed down to a dig (once Rich had discovered there was a better way up), climbed up 13 Pots ('pot' here is a small drop where water has created a pool at the bottom of it). I slipped on one of them and fell - only about 3 foot but enough to shake me a bit, and make me lose confidence. Thankfully Geoff helped out with footholds, and I was following Jude, so climbing the rest of the pots were fine. The thought of climbing the Twin Verts rose again in my mind....

And in actual fact, going up wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. I was lifelined from the bottom of the climbs up to the ladder, and I didn't fall, or slip, or give up halfway and sit there forever at the end of a rope. And I have a new found appreciation for floor. Floor is great. It's steady and firm, and beneath your feet and you can stand on it. I don't think I've ever thanked God for floor before - I have been remiss.

Going out, I was exhausted. I tried carrying a tackle sack and failed to go anywhere with it. I don't remember much of the last stretch, only Geoff being amazed I had room to turn around and drag the tackle sack out the woggle press.

Outside the cave I just lay down for a while, once again appreciating the beauty of floor. We bumped into two diggers: Andy and someone, who with mad Phil and Emsie are digging at the bottom of Morton's pot. Morton's Pot is right at the bottom of Eastwater, a good 4-5 hr trip of hardwork even when you are very fit and good at caving. To go all that way, and then dig, and then come back... Some people truly are strange.

In summary: a fantastic, fearfull, frightening trip, which I'm ever so glad I've done. Mainly coz it won't be half so bad the next time...

Merry Christmas

2006-12-22T16:30:34Z

Well, here it is, Merry Christmas everybody.

I'm just finishing up at work (got kicked out of front room so Stu and Simon could have a secret elder's discussion).. might pootle to town and see if places are open late tonight so I can get my last three or four Christmas presents. Otherwise it's into Wells early tomorrow before caving.

I'll be driving home on Sunday after church, and back at my parents for the week. Should be fun - Sis is having a party to which I've invited my friend James (as his parents are local to mine) and if anyone else is around reading type area on 27th, give me a call.

Have fun all

Clarie

we dig dig dig dig

2006-12-22T16:23:45Z

Lionel's Hole was the cave of choice on Wednesday evening - went with Rich, Anton (Darthnoddy), Andy and Fi. Much as I remembered it, in that I didn't recognise everything and there was a duck. (Not a real duck, more a muddy puddle, really).
Next time, it's exploring Horofice 1, I think. Fi and Rich went back last night to go to the end.

Rest of the group went down Pierre's Pot (Jude, Ade, Geoff, Stu, Jonathan, Niknak)- Stu gave Jonathan a lesson in traversing, and then we sat in Mad Bev's Cafe in Burrington in the back room whilst a group of oldies had their Christmas dinner and sang songs out the front.

Caving update

2006-12-20T16:21:37Z

dum de dum, I've been caving...
Last Tuesday I went on a 'short round trip' in Swildons. Adrian, Jude, Rich, Vern and I went as Sherpas for Pete Glanville, so he could take photos for the new Swildon's book.
Bimbled up to the Sidcot U-tube, in the South East Inlets, (where bimbling includes 1/2 hr of bailing mud sump, and doing it as a duck). Pete and Adrian dived through, Vern's unfit after too much paternity leave so decided to sit and wait for them to return, and Rich, Jude and I completed the round trip, with it's 5 more ducks.
They hold no fear for me now... on your back, take it slow, and easy. We emerged through Sump 1 (me cunningly losing the rope on the way through, and it was nearer 6' than the 2 I've grown to love) and decided to check the diving/photgraphing team had left the cave. Unfortunately they hadn't, so we went back up to mud sump, and through, and up to the Inlet, and finally met Vern still waiting for them to emerge, in the first stages of hypothermia. Had just about decided to bail the supm and follow after when Pete and Adrian emerged. Vern and I picked up a bag of tackle and headed out, as the most tired/cold members of the party.
Jude and Rich caught us up at the 20, but Pete and Adrian didn't come back to the hut till we'd all showered and the kettle was on. This was because Pete's light ran out and Vern and I had been carrying his spare battery out with us. Do'h.

Didn't cave last wednesday - exhausted.

D was meant to be coming up at the weekend to go caving, and I was going to go join her - however with my tiredness and the car breaking down I didn't make it to Upper Pitts till Sun morning, when I learnt she hadn't made it either.
Bumped into Nigel Jackson though, another old Canterbury caver. Really great to see him and catch up on all the news:-) He's been in Iraq the past 10 months or so with the TA.
So went underground with Hatstand and Les W, down Manor (manure) Farm Swallet. Nice little cave, if you can ignore the smell and the slime:-) Oh, and the killer 20' climb up before you then hit the 50' ladder out. Didn't find the NHASA extensions - think they were beyond the end as signified by the huge pile of nasty smelling foam. And had a hairy moment as I lost my battery whilst halfway up a wall. All turned out ok though.
Even made it back in time for the carol service.

'Normal' life

2006-12-20T16:08:31Z

(as opposed to caving that is)
Ok, well, went on our Students and Twenties Regional Weekend away over the 8th-10th. I didn't really have to work at all whilst there, which was great, but somehow still ended up exhausted.
Had an excellent time- Dave Devenish preached on church (God's mission agency) which was inspiring and exciting and grabbed us. It's incredible to hear illustrations from church planting amongst unreached people groups - made it very real.
As expected, I had a powerful experience on Saturday night - yay for exorcism, right? Anyway, nothing that freaky or scary but God's done what he needed, and I'm glad about that. It wasn't even that embarrassing.

And since then I've been working hard, caving, reaching my absolute maximum stress levels, Monty's broken his tail, my car has overheated, and through it all God has been good to me (learning the meaning of "a bruised reed he will not break.") And soon it's holiday time, hooray.

Swildons the Wet Way

2006-12-07T10:00:18Z

Nice trip - Fi took Adam down the dry easy way to Sump 2 and reports that he's 'very fit.' Wondered if she should be saying that with Stu just beyond the sump :-)
Rich, Jude, Andy went the long dry way (I think). Geoff, Charlotte, Stu and I went the Wet way. And I've no idea where Bean and Adrian went - Bean's one of those who does sump 1 in 20 mins, and seems to float down, free climbing the 20' and all.
We all met up and passed at various points - the ladder of course, and down at sump 1. Charlotte Stu and I went through just for the sake of it. It's deeper and I ended up going through on my back. Apparently after the floods in '68 you could walk through. And as we played the 'don't touch the water' challenge for most of the passageway between the 20' and Sump one, we were overtaken by just about everybody.
Came out the Wet Way too. Jude's selling me her wetsuit, which is fantastic. And Geoff's given Charlotte his old lid - we be proper cavers now (and proper Wessex members too after Sunday's meeting.)

follow on from July's weird spiritual entry

2006-12-02T17:29:16Z

July's weird spiritual entry
Well, after all that, nothing really did happen at Brighton Leaders' conference - and that was fantastic - possibly the first time I have been away to a highly charged spiritual atmosphere with fantastic confrontational preaching and not had to repent of major sin ;-)

The reason I'm mentioning it is because on Thurs at cell it happened again - Stu talked on the normal Christian birth of Repentance, faith, baptism in water and baptism in the Holy Spirit, we prayed for the Holy Spirit and I had the same experience - my chest tightened, I wanted to cough and be sick, and Livy (who knew v little of the previous stuff) felt to pray that I'd been released from the Kingdom of Darkness into the Kingdom of Light.

And so I once again retreated to a more private place, and this time I laid hands on myself and prayed for myself, and heard God for myself (and yes, was sick). And I very definitely felt God say two things 'You are not rejected' and 'I chose you (to be single) for my glory'.

Both of these I knew in my head of course, but on Thurs they became real heart things.. a deep inner knowing that there isn't 'something wrong with me' and that time, years and years ago, when I didn't get married it wasn't that I was rejected, but that God had chosen me to be single for his purposes and his glory and this is a Good Thing - the best thing that could have happened.

Talking with Livy afterwards I think the other thing that has happened is another step out of my miserable pmt, and the down-ness I can slide down into from self-pity from time to time that has lingered since I was(clinically) depressed for a bit in 1999.

And sometimes I wonder how long it will take me to heal - after all, what happened to me wasn't so bad compared to lots of other people, and it was a long time ago (6 years, now). And to be honest, I'd much rather be the person praying for others than the one being prayed for. But you know what? I'm not ashamed of it. Bad stuff happens, and then God works in it for good, and if at the end of all this I can look at my life and say 'Look what God has done! Isn't he magnificent?' then it'll all be worth it.

Waterwheel Swallet

2006-11-30T09:07:46Z

Well, that was nice - never been there before. Went with usual suspects - Jude, Adrian, Geoff, Rich, Charlotte, Stu, Fi and new guy called Andy. Getting too many of us Wed night cavers now, so next week we'll probably do a two parter down Swildons.
Geoff removed the bung for us so it was nice and full of water - I balked at the canal/duck (I'm *sure* it's the cold hitting me that causes that panic feeling) but it was no problem at all when following people. Makes me glad Jesus asks us to follow him, he doesn't just push us out in front...
Down to bottom, right to end with Fi, one at a time: it gets narrower and narrower and more and more full of water (somehow neither 'shallower' nor 'deeper' describes that adequately) and then you get to a point where you think - if I keep going, I can't get back. So you peer at the little eyelet and stop.
Coming out, Ade had put the bungs in and it was a different cave. And not as interesting. And we made it to the pub by ten past 9 (doubt we were underground more than an hour, hour and a half.)

Live-journalling and real life conversation

2006-11-27T09:02:39Z

I had a fantastic weekend - went to Jonathan's wedding, and got to see a lot of my friend Andrew. Whist he was in Australia, he read this lj - and consequently I found I had little to tell him about what had been going on with me. Afterall, if it's too private to make it here, it's generally too private for most people.

Alex (from uni, when I started this thing) always used to hate that too, but the other way round - I never used to tell him anything, just say 'read my lj' and as he never did, he found it very frustrating.

Ljs/blogs are like that - Some are either intensely personal and splurgey, which I find incredibly dull and never read. The best, in my opinion are like Paul's (http://www.joeblade.com) which are so impersonal they are of interest to everyone. Mine is somewhere in the middle - I guess if you know me, and you're interested in my life, you'd read it. Otherwise, you wouldn't bother.

It surprised me to discover Andrew read my blog - he doesn't comment, so I'd never know. And not only that, but he's read it all the way back to the beginning (how embarrassing!)
And that makes me wonder, how many people out there are friends of mine, and read this, but I never have a real life conversation with? Because, you know, I think I'd prefer the real life thing. I confess, I'm really terrrible at keeping communication and friendships going over long distance and perhaps that's why I write this thing. But if you are a friend enough to read this, then phone me up and maybe we can do the whole thing real life instead...

Caving #10

2006-11-23T10:01:43Z

Last week, Jonathan said he wouldn't mind caving 'occasionally but didn't want to be a hard caver'. But this week he was back underground, and next week only depends on his project - think we've got him hooked. Adam came too, and really enjoyed it - so he owes me a climbing trip now. Rest of party was Jude, Adrian, Pauline, Stu, Geoff, Charlotte, Fi (in two groups, of course).

Back to GB - the largest cave in Britain, or so they tell me. Hadn't ever realised before that the Gorge (where I have been) isn't as big as the Main Chamber (where I haven't been). Went in through Devil's Elbow, came down the pitch on a flying angel (oh, one day I will do that for real, rather than just a rope round my back, under my arms, used as a brake.) Just before the main cavern I found a silly little hole, which Stu said I would never get through, and bet me a months wages. Digging is allowed, so one day I'm going back and getting through there. Down to landing, round and out, ended up in the Hunters for a drink.
All good.

Where has the week gone?

2006-11-22T14:47:10Z

My computer at home is no longer working (story of my life huh?) which means I'm updating at the office now (at least, that's my excuse for my lack of regular weekly posts and I'm sticking to it.)

So since I last posted I have been caving (of course), had an exciting weekend away with Eutychus, my youth group, seen my old friend Andrew and even started to get my work life sorted out a bit.

In order then:
Caving. Went down Goatchurch with Jude, Adrian, Rich, Pauline, Charlotte, Jonathan (from cell group at church), and Geoff caught us up underground after finishing celebrating his son's birthday. Stu was out of action after sustaining a head injury and concussion at work - no diving or caving for two whole days.
I went down the Smartie tube, up the Dexien extension, into orange peel passage, around the labyrinth, into the 'real water chamber' and the only thing I recognised from previous trips was sliding over the coffin lid. Actually, what I remember most was a gastly struggle to climb up the coffin lid. This time, I found the easy way underneath. On my 'too investigate' list are some passages on the right hand side of the water chamber, between the Drainpipe and the Smartie Tube. Rich suggested I get my own kit and go explore by myself one day - good idea.
Jonathan's first time, and his verdict was 'like nothing I've ever done before'. After some processing time, at cell on Thurs, he said he'd lie to go occasionally, but didn't want to become a 'hard' caver. Of course he said that, but he's coming again tonight. I think he might get hooked...

Eutychus Weekend Away
Woot! Went away with Kate and Andy Spens, Louis and Beth Meseg, Lou, Stan, Ben, Dave Evens and 16 teenagers to Wern Watkin - a youth hostel on the Llangattock Escarpment in Wales. Was a really *good* time - no discipline issues, great worship, good teaching, the kids were engaged and involved, God did some stuff in peoples lives (including mine), we had a huge amount of fun (especially in our crazy wide games and rolling round in the mud) and I even got enough sleep.

Seeing Andrew
http://clarie.livejournal.com/2005/02/07/ - that was when Andrew left. Seems so strange that he's back - good strange. Like he's been away forever and everything's changed since then, but he still belongs here and we are friends and I am glad about that. We've hardly kept in touch at all, but I've missed him far more than I ever emailed him!
He's mellowed, matured, seems happy - Australia was really good for him. We went to see James Bond on Tuesday (he's not in Bristol yet, but at his mum's in Guildford so I drove over to see him). Good film.

Work:
I'm employed as an administrator, so it's quite embarrassing when things don't happen because I've forgotten about them. Though, as Simon says, it's one of those jobs where if you do things well, you are invisible, and when something's wrong, everyone sees. Anyway, been feeling lately like things have dropped off my radar, out the bottom of my head, through sheer amount of stuff. Sat down with Simon and talked about it - he wsa great, gave me some helpful tips, told me I could send people to him if I felt they were asking me to do stuff which wasn't high enough up my priority list. Good to have someone watching my back.

Caving and catraps

2006-11-14T12:25:45Z

Caving Last Wed: Went down Swildon's, Sump 2 and back. *Most* impressed by Charlotte - her second ever trip. It's a long way out when you are tired...

Cat-traps: Today I have been mostly catching feral cats. About a month ago we had a note put through our door - a neighbour had found a small black cat and kittens in their shed, and wondered whose they were. A few weeks later, the family appeared in our back garden, so I phoned the neighbour, and we decided they were strays.

Time went by - the kittens grew up, and eventually the whole family was walking in Monty's catflap to eat his food whenever they felt like it. The mother is aggressive, and will come in to attack Monty when he's sleeping. None of them will bear you getting anywhere near though.

Monty got to the stage where he was too scared to go out into the back garden, so we blocked the catflap, got out the litter tray again and phoned the local RSPCA. Who said phone the cats home. Who said phone the national RSPCA. Who once we got through their insane message system and talked to someone (on the fourth call) told us to phone the Cat Protection League. Who told us to call the Bristol Cat Protection League. Who have an answering machine and said 'leave a message'.

Amazingly they did get back to us, and agreed to provide us with a cat trap, pay for the mother to be neutured, and rehome the kittens. Hooray!

Last week, the cat trap arrived - I set it out, with food, and every cat in the neighbourhood turned up. I didn't catch the mother, but did catch another scraggy black female stray. She was spayed last week.

Today I tried again, and caught all three kittens (one by one) and the mother (hooray!). Luckily Monty's out playing in the traffic so he doesn't know his house is overrun with his arch enemies. They are sitting meowing in cages downstairs, atm... the Cat Protection League should get in contact about picking up the kits, and I haev to drop the mother off to the vets before 6.30.
So if you want a tabby or black feral kitten, who is completely scared of humans, scruffy, smelly, and probably has fleas and worms and other nasty cat diseases, then get in touch asap.

Caving Men

2006-11-09T13:18:32Z

Having recently returned to caving, I’ve been observing characteristics of cavers and the caving community.
One of the most striking I’ve noticed is the way caving seems to bring out the best in men – let me give you three examples: the Horticulturist, the Hobbit and the Hero*.

The Horticulturist is an older man, perhaps my father’s age. Above ground he is quiet and mild, joining in with jokes, and rather unassuming, not expressing his negative opinions of others or situations. Underground he becomes a leader and is often the key decision maker on ‘wherwegoin’to?’ He inspires confidence and enabled me to do Sump1 when I felt so fearful I was physically unable to attempt it.

The Hobbit, above ground, I didn’t think I’d like – far too full of innuendo and jokes (most of which I don’t understand, and the ones I do I wish I didn’t.) But underground, he’s a fantastic cave leader: he’s thoughtful, observant, considerate of the novices, up for a challenge. If he pointed me at a small hole, I’d go through it, trusting his judgement (and his ability to get me out if I ever really did get stuck).

And talking of getting me out of holes, there’s the Hero. He’s the founding member of the CRO (Clarie Rescue Organisation) and has pulled me out, or patiently waited for me to squeeze out, of most of the stupid holes I’ve been in. He’s towed me down Green Canal, and been a foothold countless time when my short legs just don’t reach. He’s incredibly strong and fit, yet never complains about going slow. Again above ground, you’d never know this about him.

And that’s not to mention the myriad of other men I’ve caved with – one of whom, the best cave leader I’ve ever known, I went out with more or less on that basis.

So it leaves me with the question: Do all men have this potential for being good leaders, strong and considerate men? (and caving, like any other risky activity, brings it out?)
Or is there something intrinsic about caving itself, that it develops this sort of bloke?
Or have I just been lucky and gone caving with some good‘uns?
Discuss…

*names changed to protect their identities ;-)
cross posted to the ukcaving.com forum

This month, I have been mostly underground

2006-11-08T14:48:00Z

So, quick caving trip updates - where did I leave you last? Ah yes, North Hill Swallet.

So the following week, we went to the lost cave of Loxton. Nice little bimble of a trip - saw some pretty Mendip Healing crystal, Genuine cordoroy marks from miners who crawled through the muddy passages 100 yrs ago, an old pipe (miners) and lots of broken stal (from the miners who once they discovered there were no minerals to mine, mined stal instead). Oh, and way down at the bottom, through a *very* tight squeeze indeed, some rabbit bones. Though I could say what I liked really, as I was the only person in the group to get down there. Gareth was the only other one insane enough to try, and he got down to underwear before deciding it really wasn't going to happen. Jude and Stu *say* they did it last time...

A week later, and it appears the group have conspired to take me back to Sump 1 and face my demons. Good for them I say. Again, I completely wibbled - not breathless and screaming but I physically could not do it. I have more empathy for people who suffer panic attacks than I ever have had before. Adrian was brilliant though - he said 'You do want to do this, don't you?' to which of course the answer was yes. Then he came down in the water, and went right up to the edge with me. And oh so calmly told me to do it.. and I did. Hooray! And Gareth and Rich cheered on the other side - it was like being baptised all over again :-) Photo of me diving the sump

A few more days and I was in Dan Yr Ogof, with Stu, his girlfriend Fi (who is nothing like the intimidating oxbridge girl I had somehow imagined), Geoff and Rich. I wasn't sure about Geoff when I first met him down Loxton - far too much innuendo for my liking - made me feel uncomfortable. But he led us on a brilliant trip - swimming through green canal, and showing us pretties: sporting and beautiful. Plus there's nothing like walking past a load of tourists in your wetsuit and helmet in a show cave.. I told Geoff I didn't like being teased at one point and I think after that I understood him more, and him me. And joy of joys! In the cafe afterwards we talked of God and church and beliefs and that was fantastic.

Wednesday, and it was time for a through trip, Hilliers to Fairy. The normal crowd - Jude, Adrian, Stu, Geoff, Rich, me (no Gareth) and my friend Charlotte from church, who went caving for the first time. I disappeared down a stupidly small hole, and Stu started dropping mud on me as I came up. Of course, where I was, it was really muddy, so I made sure he had a nice handful on his neck when I got out. At which point... mud fight! It was fun - I really enjoy caving with them. Oh, and we found more cave through the boulder choke at the back - I'd squeezed myself down this incredibly small and painful hole which Geoff had asked me to go through, only to find Ade behind me, having found another way in...
And in the car on the way back to the hut, Geoff said it was good to have new blood - they'd started becoming the tea-drinking club, and so it was great to have a reason to go to different caves again.

Tonight is Swildon's... maybe down Blue Pencil (my first time). Depends on Charlotte - Sump 1 and back can be a long way when you are new.

Other than adventures underground, I've been rather busy at church. Word Plus (a systematic theology course for everyone) started on Sat - we've got 100 people signed up, which is great. Stu and Graham took the first day on the Old Testament - my resounding memory will be of the line of kings, each one remaining standing if he was a good king or sitting down if 'He did evil in the sight of the Lord'. Which was most of them.

Been socialising a lot too (which is nice) - even spontanously once! Not bad for a woman who knows what she's doing every weekend between now and January...

Oh, and I've had my hair chopped off. Went home and saw Mum and Rozi for Rozi's birthday, and htey paid for me to get my hair restyled. So I've lost about a foot, and it's gone to shoulder length (much more sensible for caving). Hadi (the Somalian boy I tutor) didn't recognise me but everyone else thinks it was A Good Thing. If you're lucky I may even find a photo...

Caving part 2, and Sis is engaged.

2006-10-15T15:46:12Z

Maybe I'm going to have to start posting twice a week, otherwise all my entries will be caving-related from this point.

On Wednesday I went down North Hill Swallet, with the hospitable Jude, Stu and Graham. It was a nice little crawl - went to the bottom, rather grateful for the cold which prevented me from smelling the supposedly foul mud at the end. (The guys up the hut refrained from flushing the loos to make the cess pit overflow, which was kind of them too).
Up a going-nowhere side passage, I decided to see if I could get through a hole which Jude and sensibly refused on the basis that her helmet diidn't fit through, Graham as a 6ft something hadn't even attempted, and Stu couldn't get his chest through. After a bit of effort (and removing my own helmet) I succeeded - and there was even room on the other side to sit up and turn around in. Nice, and necessary as there was no way on.
Getting out was an awful lot harder than getting in - bending at a funny angle, lack of places to kick off from, difficulty of wedging my pelvis up three einches to get to the 'slightly wider' bit, and I was tired.Still, Stu didn't seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere (thankfully) and after it occurred to me that perhaps I could pray, I finally managed to get out. If it's new, I'll name it 'God who hears me' hole. (Being female, naming parts of caves after oneself can only be interpreted wrongly).

I went wandering with Albert on Thursday, to meet and chat to homeless guys around St Pauls. Before we went we prayed, and as we were praying for a guy we know who has recently made a commitment to Christ, and now needs to come out of his alcohol addiction, I was reminded of my trip down North Hill. Getting into that hole took effort, and time - but getting out was so much harder, and there was a point I didn't know how or if I would (just about when Stu said he knew of two cavers who'd died through being stuck, if I recall correctly). And for this friend of ours I think it will be like that - he's made choices and gone a down a path for a long time, and getting out again will be tough.

My second topic is an altogether pleasant one - my little sister is engaged! I'm very glad, and it will be either the last weekend of July or the first weekend of August next year. And she's asked me to be a bridesmaid! (my first time). So that's pretty exciting too. Oh, and for those of you who know her, it's my sister Sarah (I have many) and she's marrying Mark.

The Alpha Course

2006-10-10T15:04:59Z

For most people who've heard of it, the Alpha Course is a low key way to find out about Christianity. For some, it's the way they became a Christian. For UK Christians, it's a phenomenon. You buy some crockery, cook some food, book a hall, and people who would never step foot in your Sunday morning meeting come to hear about Jesus. We love it.
It takes time and money and effort - but who would begrudge that to see their friends, family and neighbours saved? It isn't a 'quick fix' - most churches find they have to run The Alpha Course for two or three years before it takes off, and they see substantial* numbers come through. (for any given size of church). But it works. For whatever reason, God has decided to bless it, and for this moment in history, the church has a tool (and nothing more than that) they can use to effectively communicate to a generation about Jesus: who he is, why he died, and why it matters.
At City Church, we've run the Alpha Course regularly for just over a year. Each time, we've seen one or two people become Christians and be added to the church. We're plodding along, praying for the breakthrough. Last Monday, at our Alpha Supper, we set our 60 places, hoping for a large number... and more people turned up than we had crockery for.
For the last four weeks, someone has responded to the gospel every Sunday morning.
Something's in the air... can you feel it? Climate change is coming....

spelunking!

2006-10-01T18:18:04Z

Ah it's all good. Went down to the hut yest morning, ably demonstrating my navigational skills by failing to leave Bristol on the A37 and consequently going the long way round. Got to hut, met up with Jude and Adrian who were persuading their friend Helen that Eastwater Cavern was a nice cave, really it is.

I don't have particularly *bad* memories of it - which is a fair assessment. We did the round trip at the top - Upper traverse, Hallelulujah Hole, came back through Boulder chamber and Woggle press (where rumour has it a scout got stuck and died once), found the string and exited. Hour and a half all told, dry, squeezey, and better than a trip to the gym.

In the afternoon Jude and I went down Swildon's to bring back some diving gear. What I remember as a pleasant enough bimble, especially going the short dry easy way, turned out to be hard work. I got tired on the way back, didn't even bother climing round the first of the two pots (there or back coz water was shallow anyway). And I freaked at Sump One - body hit the water and I just couldn't do it. Still, I'll be back - another time. And I forgot the climbing protocol.

On the other hand, it was like going home. My arms and feet and knees remembered the rocks and the best way round, even when I didn't. And I climbed the 20 better than I ever have before. And for someone who hasn't been underground in 4 years, two trips in one day isn't too bad.

Rounded off the day with hamandpasta at The Hunters, and sneaked in to the Cave Divers Group slide show on 'Caving beyond the sump'. I still think *that's* mad though.

Going caving...

2006-09-11T20:35:36Z

I moved to Bristol two years ago - right to the place where for all my uni-days I travelled on a fairly regular basis to go caving. But I didn't have a car, and then I didn't have enough money, and then it started to be so many years that I thought it'd be embarrassing to go back, and then it started being even longer...

Anyway, praying the other day I really felt like I should take up caving again. So I consequently did nothing untill friday, when I was unexpectedly free. o I got in my car and went to Hunters Lodge (it doesn't have a website. it's not that sort of pub).

And nothing had changed. I walked in, nodded to the barman Roger, bought a drink, looked around nervously. and was asked 'Are you looking for someone?' And when I said 'members of the Wessex (my old caving club) the girl immediately introduced me to herself, her mum, and two other friends. So we chatted, they said I could go caving with them (unfortunately was busy the next day, but we arranged for midweek sometime), they'll lend me the bits of kit I don't have, and then Johnathan and Cathy (now married) walked in, and nodded to me...

Somethings never change. The Hunters is one. Johnathan told me of a guy called Max who'd been in Australia for 8 yrs. On his return he went in, ordered a pint and without a word Roger reached up, pulled down Max's tankard, and filled it up. It just doesn't matter how long you've been away, when you're back you're back - whether to go caving, or the far more traditional caving activity, to sit in the pub drinking beer and talking about caving.

So yeah, hopefully, all going well, I'll get underground soon. And if not, I can always go down the Hunters for another drink.

In other words,

listen to Simon's sermon from Sunday, http://www.citychurch.org.uk/sermons.
It was fantastic.
Ben has been back at school a week and seen 6 friends respond to the gospel.
I got my first Googlewhack (with 'jibble' and 'concupiscence')
Monty's been disappearing all day, every day. We think someone else must be
feeding him

Resurrection

2006-09-10T17:55:24Z

This morning I learnt a new phrase: 'mirror moments' - times when you can truly see yourself, and what you've become and what your life is like. The prodigal son had one as he fed the pigs, and it caused him to go home to the father who loved him.

My eating and sleeping this weekend have got out of sync, and it's affected my mood considerably (I've been really spaced, and had low blood sugar levels, which drops my mood). And in its own way, it's been a mirror moment.
I've realised how little self-confidence I have. Not that I'm not confident, but I'm not confident in me any more. I really honestly don't think I can do anything by myself, and I'm reluctant to even try. As one of my friends once said "Are you even aware of how much you have changed... You have become more negatively emotional, more easily upset... You seem fragile and look for self-pitying excuses for the actions that happen around you. Your overt justifications of 'God's plan' for you simply deflect all responsibility for your own actions and the consequences of those actions. That is not the heartily determined and steely Claire I used to know. What happened to the Claire who had compassion and understand for her friends? When DID you start to give up on life? You gave up on your aspirations to become a clinical psychologist... What next? Aren't some things that have nothing to do with your religion worth fighting for? Or has your religion blinded you from the rest of humanity?"

I can't decide if it's a good way or a bad way to be. It's taken some hefty knocks to get me here, and they haven't been fun. On the other hand I'm so aware of how much I need God, how actually, if it isn't God doing it, and it isn't for his glory, I don't want to do anything any more. And when I compare that to the Bible, it doesn't seem to be a bad place to be at all. In fact, it seems to be the only starting place there is, and God takes most of his people there, in one way or another.

There were two prophecies this morning in worship. The first was from Daniel - the stone from the mountain which rolls into the statue, smashes it to pieces, and then grows to become a mountain. We were reminded that that stone is Christ, and the kingdoms it smashes are the kingdoms of this world, and the mountain it becomes is the Kingdom of God.. and as a church of God we are part of that story and we were challenged to grow, and to play our part in it (as individuals and as a local church). And then Dieks brought a word about awaking, shaking off the dust, shining...

And it stirred my heart again, to not lose that diamond of a vision I have of a church which reaches out to people with mental illnesses, and heals them, and brings them to Christ, and restores them, and sends them out. And maybe, just maybe, it's time for me to awake, and go after it. And not because I want it, because I want to be a clinical psychologist, or because I want to be on a platform somewhere and get all the praise, and have people read my book and want to be like me...because I don't. Because I can't. Because it scares me rigid and I know I'd only muck it up and fail. But because if this is what God has said to me (and he has, I know that. It's the reason I'm not in South Africa, because God said 'don't put your hand to the plow and look back. Go back to England and do clincial psychology'. It's the reason I'm here in Bristol at all) ... if this is what God's said to me then it will happen. And it will happen because he has said it.

</ul>

The Vision - by Pete Greig

2006-09-01T16:00:06Z

So this guy comes up to me and says:

“what’s the vision? What’s the big idea?”

I open my mouth and words come out like this:

The vision?

The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.

The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.

They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.

They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport.
People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision ?

The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes.
It makes children laugh and adults angry.
It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.
It scorns the good and strains for the best.
It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to loose,
that they might one day win
the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters.

Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: “COME ON!”

And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground

And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them ?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them ?

And the generation prays

like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.

Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.

They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive

Inside.

On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.

With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.

Don’t you hear them coming?

Herald the weirdo’s! Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.

And this vision will be.
It will come to pass;
it will come easily;
it will come soon.

How do I know?

Because this is the longing of creation itself,
the groaning of the Spirit,
the very dream of God.

My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great ‘Amen!’ from countless angels, from hero’s of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed.

Miracles in Bristol

2006-08-28T11:21:49Z

At newday, I heard Sib Sibandwe preach an unusual message. Unusual because every other time I have heard him preach, he has been energetic, charismatic, entertaining.. and this time he stood stock still, and delivered it in a monotone. And I think he did this deliberately - because what he was saying was so powerful, so unusual, he didn't want to hype it up at all. (you can hear it yourself on http://www.newday.xtn.org/media/podcast/article_index.php?id=48 )
He said, in short, that all the prophetic words over newday - about God pouring out his Holy Spirit, and doing something that would be of national significance, were now. Not in the future, but now.

i felt the weight of what he was saying as he was preaching, and couldnt' imagine what it would look like. If it is now, if revival is coming now, if things are changing in our nation now, what would happen? Revivals look different every time, and every time they come the majority of the church doesn't expect it and recognise it.

So we got back from Newday, and things looked pretty much as normal. Untill John Ifeanyi and his evangelism team start talking to people in Bristol, on the streets, and there's a reaction - Arthur (who is 82, and lovely) responded to the gospel and has started coming to church. Some people have signed up for Alpha (we run our next course in October), some more came and joined us at our Fun day yesterday.
And then the rumours went round that our elder and his family have been healed. Simon Walker, Kate, and their four children were allergic to many different food items - milk, wheat, gluten, soya, all additives, oranges.. and not just mildly intolerant but really ill. For years, their diet has been totally defined by these reactions. And then, 2 weeks ago, a close family friend of theirs visited. She's been recently healed of a lactose intolerance. So she prayed, Simon took the family to Pizza hut - and they've been eating normal food for two weeks now, with no ill effects.

And the family friend was healed because a teenage friend of her daughter's became a Christian and was healed of Celiacs. So when she heard her friend's mum couldn't drink milk, she questioned it, and prayed, and asked her to drink a glass of milk. And without much faith, she did, and was fine.

And then Ruth, another lady in our church, had an ear imbalance, which caused her to knock into things all the time, and bang her funny bone so much her arm was quite painful and couldn't be moved much - and last Sunday, she was healed too.

And I remember Sibs saying 'It's time. not next year, not a couple of years from now, but now'. And I think.. maybe it is....

Newday

2006-08-12T08:54:04Z

At the end of a week like Newday, it's hard to know what to say about. Do I tell you each preach, each worship session, how God moved, what he said? Or focus on the camping - the toilets and showers which had to be shut every day as we overloaded the new water pipes, the cooking, running the gauntlet with an inflatable sofa, - all the joys of sharing a campsite with 5500 other people?

To make it easy, I guess all I have to to do is point you at newday.xtn.org. All the preaches will be available for free download from there as well as testimonies, feedback from the outreach etc.
And I'll tell you few of my particular highlights:

Coming back having seen God move, his Holy Spirit come and bless people every night, heard his voice.

The 'great number' affected - in one evening, I saw 174 people go forward to say they'd been healed (including one girl who was instantaneously healed of dyslexia, Irlen Syndorme, and her reading age jumped from 6 to normal (she was 15ish) which was incredible), 430 respond to the gospel (over 200 people become Christians and another 200 recommitted themselves). It sounds like Africa, or China, not England - and yet it was, I was there, I prayed with some of them.

In another 'that only happens in Africa' way, John Ifeanyi helped with the outreach in Derby and over the week led 10 people to become Christians. On the street!

Hearing excellant teaching. I know it was aimed at 12-19yr olds but I was challenged and educated. Best seminar awards to hearing Baroness Cox (did you know there are 27 million slaves in the world today? that's more than at any previous moment in history!), and Jay Smith who taught on Islam, and Steff Liston on 'what the right fella wants in a woman' (which I'll store up and maybe come back to one day!)

Watching 5000 teenagers going for it in worship, and particular dancing and singing to Xhosa and other South African songs.

Hearing really good preaching on the incarnation, on the cross, on the Kingdom of God, when you are surrounded by teenagers who are drinking it in and being affected by it.

Seeing Eutychus (City Church's youth group) and comparing it to last year. There are more of them, for a start. They are a real group, who like each other. They have all grown in godliness and become more like Jesus. They are bold in saying what happened to them, and wanting to step out in their schools this year. It's been incredible and I'm proud of them and grateful to God for what he's done in them.

In his last preach, Stu talked about how we're not trendy. Newday isn't - it isn't the most fashionable, most culturally relevent, most 'in' thing for teenagers (even Christian teenagers) to go to. But it isn't about that. It's about proclaiming the coming of the Kingdom of God, about preaching Jesus Christ, about building local church, about equipping our teenagers to preach the gospel over the whole world. And God is doing something, in our generation, in our nation. 'The Tide is Turning' as Terry Virgo puts it. God is coming in his power, churches are growing, people are getting saved, a generation is being raised up who will take the gospel in to schools and hospitals and parliament and businesses, who are eager for justice and compassion and righteousness and freedom, who aren't content to see people who are caught in poverty and drugs and illness and violence and prostitution and broken relationships stay there, who will declare that God and his kingdom are more important than their own careers and financial security and selfishness of sin. And this week I saw it, just a snapshot of it, of all God having promised being fulfilled on the earth.