Home, Sweet, Home

Finished reading The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller a few weeks ago.
Sheeessss. That book was a LOT.

It was basically a break down of the parable of the prodigal son, which Keller believes should be called the prodigal sons. He mentions the lostness of the younger brother, then his gracious welcome back to the family by his father, the blatant message of the parable. But then he goes into detail about the lostness of the elder brother, an issue which is sometimes mentioned, usually glossed over though. This parable has been used as a way of showing the people in this world who are deep in sin, that there is always a way for them to come back home because of grace and God would be delighted to welcome them there, holding a feast and killing the fatted calf. What is missed out though, is the fact that the elder brother does not go to the party, he does not make it to heaven, or rather we do not know if he does. And the reason for this is not because of his outright disregard for laws, his disobedience, his disrespect, disloyalty to his father. No, it's almost because he is too good. This son represents the Pharisees, of whom there are many in the modern day. For them, it is their "goodness", their "unmarked slate" that stops them from entering the Kingdom of heaven. They are self-righteous and they become their own saviour. They are living a lie. There is a danger that, because they are so self-reliant and proud of themselves for being impeccable in a moral, legalistic sense, they will feel like God owes them something and will judge others who get what seems undeserved. When it actual fact, any blessing anyone receives, grace and salvation themselves, are undeserved. 'Why didn't I get that promotion? I've been to church every Sunday since I was born, been praying since I could talk and I always give to the poor. So and so got a pay rise at work and I didn't see him with his hands up at church on Sunday, he didn't even get there on time! He's not a true worshipper like me.'

Ohmygosh yeah. You get the point. Didn't mean to digress there lol.

What stuck out for me however, as Keller went on to write about other things, the human condition of Sehnsucht - a German word which has no direct English translation, but it portrays profound homesickness or longing, but with transcendent overtones.

He quotes C.S. Lewis,

"Our life-long nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside, is no mere neurotic fancy, but the truest index of our real situation.'

These thoughts inspired the following poem;

Home

They say home is where the heart is,
I say home is where my Father is
That's why I'll never have a complete sense of getting there
Because there isn't here,
On this messed up version of Earth
But we'll be there soon
A home where tears are but a myth and suffering does not exist
Where there's no more hunger, just feasts
Where there's no more 'just war', just peace
Where the sun doesn't shine because His glory is sufficient
And He'll be standing right before us, no visions
Life as He had meant it to be
We were created for His glory,
Worship will never cease
and with ease we'll give Him all that He deserves
We'll be breathing perfection,
everything as it should be
It'll all make sense suddenly
and we'll fully realise the complete wonder of our Lord, His majesty
God gave us the gift of life and we were made for such a time as this
Right now, we see but, glimpses of heaven and beautiful as they are,
home won't feel like home until the gates are opened and like oil we pour in
It'll be like a child in a sweet shop or an art-collected entering a gallery of his favourite works
But we are the favourite works,
We're the grand design, glistening like a teardrop in Daddy's eyes
For now we'll live our lives in eager anticipation
for the moment when the world is put right
and we make it Home

<3

Sarah with a Camera...

So, this weekend has been super duuuper interesting to say the least. It's been super fun too.

I've brought the wonder that is the bicycle back into my life and I've made a vow to myself that I will cycle for at least a half hour each day. It's been two days and I'm already feelin it. Thighs are on fire! Feel the burn and that. Yeah.

It was another beautiful day yesterday, my body clock woke me at 6am, so I just decided to make the most of the day. Ran some errands and then set off to follow the woodland trail in my local park on bike. Armed with my camera and iPod, I set off and had the best time.

At one point, while I was riding down the lane, hair blowing in the breeze and floral dress billowing, CBR's Butterfly came on, and then a butterfly flew past my face! Oh, it was magical. I felt like I was in a music vid for the song. Ha. Sincerely gassed.

Anyway, here are some of the pictures I took...












Love.

Confessions

This blog is titled Confessions of an Anomalous Black Girl, so it only makes sense that I make some confessions...

1. When I see Tick R on BBM and have received no reply, I get kinda ticked off, but I never say anything because I think it'll make me come across as anal. And it kind of is anal. (I don't like the word anal but I can't think of a synonym)

2. I could count on one hand (and probs a few on the other too) the people with whom I truly enjoy spending real life time and with whom I am truly myself.

3. I think in tweets. When something happens, in my mind it automatically forms into a 140 or less character sentence. 'My name is Sarah, and I'm a tweetaholic.'

4. There was one period of time in my life when I super badly wanted to be in with the popular kids. I invited like the Queen Bee for a sleepover at mine, and she came. It was the best day of my life. I was in year 6.*

5. On occasion, I still take mirror pics.

6. I don't bite my nails and never have, but in an awkward situation it suddenly becomes 'a really bad habit that I'm trying to break.'

7. If I was to ever get plastic surgery, I'd get lipo and smaller feet. Maybe I'd just get rid of my feet altogether and get whatever new replacement for feet they come up with in the future. God forbid. Haha.

8. If I was to ever get a tattoo, I think I'd get LOVE on the inside of my left wrist. In reality, I'll probably just carry on self-inking. I like the fact that I can have different fonts depending on my mood and that it comes off when I want it too.

9a. I get annoyed with girls who have really nicely done, could-actually-be-their-own-hair weaves.
b. I get annoyed with (some) girls who have weave and refer to it as 'my hair'. We all know that you bought it so it is yours, but we all also know that you know that some people will believe it's your real hair, and that's secretly what you want.
c. I get annoyed with people who think that my hair is a weave. Or that I have tracks.**

10. I trust too easily and give people the benefit of the doubt too often. Not sure whether that's good or bad.

11. I let people get away with hurting me because I don't like conflict, and I don't think they'll value my feelings anyway. Or that they'll have a valid reason/point, and I'll just look like a mug.

12. Getting chirpsed used to make me feel good cos I thought it meant I was a certified hottie. Thank God I know now that the requirements for getting chirpsed on the good old streets of London are merely that you are a walking, talking female.

13. I care about what people think of me.

14. My laugh is not fake or exaggerated. It really is that loud. And I quite like it. Slash sometimes I wish it was a bit more...girlie, cute.

15. I can't cut in straight lines. It's something I've struggled with my whole life and it's been really difficult.

*My friends and I had divided the year into various different categories. We were the Cool Kids, there were the Weirdos, one I don't remember and thenn the Popular Kids. We decided though, that the popular kids weren't actually popular because no-one wanted to be their friends. Secretly, it was us who were most popular. Ha. I laugh on my own lapel.

**Yes, I am aware that something's not right about all of that. It's super bitchy of me. I really want to not have a problem with weave. I'm in prayer on it. Join me in said prayer, please. Ultra serious.

Well, 15 is a nice round number and I'm super tired so let's call it a day.
This was fun. I might do it again in like a month.

Love.

My God, the artist.

"The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is deprived of its warmth.

The law of the LORD is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The decrees of the LORD are firm,
and all of them are righteous.

They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
By them your servant is warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern their own errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.

May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer."

Psalms 19

This morning, having slept at 4am, I woke at 6.30am, because for some reason, I desperately wanted to see the sun rise. Ha, I'm truly a romantic.

Bleary-eyed, I took my iPod, put on Tye Tribbett - Chasing After You, ran up to the loft, popped the window and caressed awake by the cool wind, gazed in awe of the beauty of creation. One tiny and stunning bird skipped across my roof within my reach as I stood there, didn't know what kind of bird he was but he was super happy. It was actually such a beautiful start to the day.

But now I'm mad tired. Sigh =)

OI

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

Last week, I went to dinner with my fabulous, big sister (we had Turkish food, it was so good). We left the restaurant at about 9.30 and had to walk down an inner-city high street to get to the car. Just outside the restaurant, a group of about 6 or 7 boys, aged around 10-13, I'd say, were walking and one of them being very observant spotted me in my 'I <3 Paris' t-shirt and asked, 'You love Paris yeah?' I love children, and I genuinely saw these boys as children so I didn't think it harmful at all to engage in conversation, so I responded 'Yeah man, Paris is the spot.' We were all still walking, but they had made a sort of semi-circle around my sister and me. Another boy, now on my left and up to my shoulder in height, says 'Does this hat look good on me?' I reply, after thought, 'Yeah it does actually, good look.' I think nothing of this, I was just talking to some young'uns who were kind of excited about life, or so I thought UNTIL the moment when one of them grabs my rear...

Yeah, this has never happened to me before, because any time a male approaches me in an aggressive manner when I sense that a rear-grab is possible, I'm extremely quick to shun: walk faster, head down looking at my blackberry, listening to music or replying with short phrases expressing my disinterest. This situation turned out in a completely different way, merely because I treated the boys as children (which they are) rather than potential sexual predators. Sadly, I was wrong.

After the first one, I squealed and told them off, but in a joky way, and then another one did the same thing from another direction, I squealed again. My sister turned around and did her big sister thing, directly challenged them about their unacceptable behaviour and one boy responded by admitting that he was bad, and didn't respect his mum or his dad in a very mocking and disrespectful, to my sister, manner. She was pissed. I was taken aback, but not angry for some reason. She told me to 'Walk faster. No, faster' so we did. They all started shouting, pretending as though they were trying to catch a bus, but when they ran past us I got more rear-grabs, and they laughed...there was no bus. Tasha, oh so wise with her strategies, saw the potential that they might follow us all the way to the car and so made us stop at the bus stop, where they then continued their hooligan shenanigans in a phonebox a hundred yards away from us. She took my phone and made a call, it was just for casual conversation with someone, but she knew that they would be on guard, just in case we were calling for back-up. Two minutes later, she said 'Let's go' and we walked to the car, unfollowed. She was not impressed at all. I was stunned maybe.

End of story.

So yeah, after that happened, I got home and just started pondering about the events that had occured that night. I felt sad. Sad that these young boys had probably seen older boys and even men doing the very same thing to women, and thought that it was okay, that it was their right to boldly express their lustful desire for a woman, no matter her age, race or occupation just because they were men. I was disgusted that for them, this mild form of harassment was a legitimate form of entertainment. One boy said something that stuck with me, 'I wanna hear her squeal again.' That made me realise that these boys, and all males who engage in what has been labelled 'street harassment' are on a dangerous power trip. They want to exert their dominance over women who can, seemingly, do nothing back. How many times have you witnessed, or personally experienced a churpsing male who sprays the sweetest bars but then switches like a light in an extremely menacing way the moment the girl coldly rejects him in front of all his boys. 'You're ugly anyway.' *Okay, so why did you start talking to me in the first place?* Silly.

Coincidentally, when I was surfing the Internet that night, I came across an article entitled 'Why Do Men Shout At Women In The Street?' I learned that this kind of thing happens in cities all over the world. In India, it's called 'eve teasing'. There and in Japan, they went as far as creating a women only carriage for night travel on the subway, as groping had been a problem for many years. A woman is quoted in the article saying, 'Women are advised to ignore it, and we don't speak up about it. Therefore, these men keep on doing it and push boundaries further and further' which is sadly the truth. What else can we do? I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling that if you fight back, you're being foolish and endangering yourself. The article goes on to say that street harassment continues to be a problem because as a society we've come to accept it, and allowed "men to be men".

Reading the comments on this article proved to be even more interesting as about 80% of the men who replied were on the defense, deeming the article to be hyperbolic, some saying what we women perceive to be dangerous harassment was harmless fun, others turned it around and saying that they had been made to feel uncomfortable by harassment from women. And shockingly in this day and age, the line about the things women wear came up. When one dresses like a slut, one should expect to be treated like one basically. Okay. One woman rightly said, 'Why are so many men missing the point? Women have to put up with lewd behavior from men on a daily basis - grabbing, men whispering obscenities as they go past, following us as we walk home - especially in cities. All while we're dressed normally in jeans or a massive winter coat. It happens every day - and men don't seem to realise this!?'

I'd been meaning to blog about this since it happened, but didn't really feel I had enough fuel for the fire. I blog about it today having attended my very first Black Feminist gathering yesterday evening. This was not their monthly discussion group meeting, but a showcase of art, mainly spoken word. (I was going to perform but chickened out, what a wasteman ha.) The evening was wonderful - a small gathering of like-minded females with wide smiles on their faces laden with support. When the floor was opened for a short general discussion, one lady, an American raised the point of street harassment, she said she'd only been in London for 2 months but had already noticed that it was so frequent, and it shocked her, she wanted to know how we dealt with it/why everyone seemed so "okay" with it. Two other ladies responded by saying that they had simply and regrettably become desensitized to it, and all the other females nodded in disappointed agreement. The conclusion to all the issues that were raised, whether they pertained to being a female, or being black, or being both, was that you cannot let the issue go unnoticed. Make noise about it. Blog about it. Create art about it. Join a group like the Black Feminist so you don't feel like you're going through it alone or brush it off because you think you're just super paranoid.

So, what now?
I honestly don't know. The article lists a couple of groups who are doing work to stop street harassment which is great, and maybe if we keep on shouting about it, just maybe, we might see a change.

(If that was a little heavy-going I apologise. Have a read of this great and more light-hearted take on the matter by a wonderful writer and hilarious lady, http://thecommentatorspeaks.wordpress.com/2011/02/19/a-bit-of-a-rant-a-bit-of-a-rave-part-2/)