I was just thinking...

Black Box

2012-02-24T13:04:00.000Z

The C.U.D.D: Black Box ‘The inner pieces of a human being that tells the story.’

I recently watched a documentary on flight data recorders or ‘Black Boxes’ as they are more commonly known. In the short film I saw how they worked and how investigators can find out why certain flights end in disaster. One particular flight plummeted into the sea, killing all the occupants inside. Sadly, there was no one left to tell the story of the last few minutes of the flight, no one, that is, except for the Black Box.

The Black Box is virtually indestructible, made of the toughest metals and designed to withstand immense pressure. After a catastrophe occurs it sits waiting to be picked up, and contains vital data that can help investigators determine the cause of such events. It emits a signal every second for thirty days, non-stop until hopefully it is found, taken apart, data retrieved and then interpreted. The documentary I watched made me think about the Black Box in terms of human nature, and the thought that maybe we all have a little ‘black box’ deep down inside of us.

We probably have all experienced times when life literally falls apart, and we crash and burn. Our minds are taken to the extremes of a breakdown, our hearts broken into a million pieces, and we emit a distress signal and tears flow. But there are times that the signal is more sinister; it might reveal itself through alcoholism, drug abuse, or aggression, depression, night terrors - the list is endless. And while we are in our distress we long for a search and rescue team to come and retrieve us, and hopefully help us find out why it all went wrong.

There are many traumas that can cause the catastrophic halt to our world in flight, and it made me think of the wounded soldier on return from his tour of duty. So many of them return home physically injured, but there are also those who have a signal emitting from their ‘Black Box,’ and many return with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Their plight inspired me to write this poem from the viewpoint of a loved one of the returning soldier;

Not Life Threatening

They said his injuries were not life threatening and he didn’t disagree,
They said the hurt that it had caused would be quickly remedied.
That he would walk again; breathe again, live again, feel again, be again,
And he has – his body did not die.

But the memories are eternally etched on his sanity.
With a bruised, battered and broken psyche.
There are no scars, gashes, burns; no physical evidence to parade,
But he has – though his body did not die.

Though his injuries were not life threatening, he is incomplete,
His mind consumed with images that wake him when he sleeps.
Although he can breathe again, live again; he cannot be with me again.
You see – his body did not die.

Not life threatening, but life changing,
Life derailing, marriage breaking,
Children forsaking, life destroying,
I would say – his body did not die… but I still lost him on that day.

© 2010 C.L.Schlitter

Like the wounded soldier in my poem you might be in that ‘black box’ phase of your life now. A catastrophic event, or life has worn you down to the point that there is nothing left but the box; a box of emotions, trauma, memories and pain. We do not have to encounter dramatic events to be emitting signals however, as we all have an inner cry. We all emit a distress call when in times of need, whether we realise it or not, and sometimes it takes someone else to dig a little deeper, conduct a search and rescue and retrieve our black box.

‘Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.’ Galatians 6:2

But just like the virtually indestructible Black Box we have been created to withstand great pressure. There have been times in my life when I thought I would crumble, but when I look back I am amazed that I made it through. God sent His search and rescue team to bring the core of ‘me’ back. And just like an ill-fated flight I might never be the same again, but lessons can be learned from the data contained inside my little ‘black box’. I now know what can cause me to stumble or fall, or make me depressed or anxious, and I run to the Owner’s Manual to keep this plane in flight. I cry out with the Psalmist:

‘My soul melts from heaviness;
Strengthen me according to Your word.’ Psalm 119:28

Many people go to counselling or rehab for help and I welcome and applaud the great work done by such groups, having used them myself. However, as we have seen in recent times, the result is not always a person recovered and healed. Rehab, counselling, friends and family are a valuable part of the search and rescue team, but God alone can truly decipher the inner codes of each man, woman and child. He created and designed our black box of emotions, and has left an instruction manual for us - the Bible (Psalm 119:49-50), and an Expert to help us understand - the Holy Spirit (John 14:16).

So the next time we see someone ‘acting out’, or emitting a distress signal, maybe we should try to be part of the search and rescue team, ready to point them towards the True Expert of the human soul. We can help through prayer, guidance, and by pointing them in the direction of so many good charities and organisations out there.

We need to help others before their ‘black box’ becomes irretrievable and they stop emitting distress calls.

Still thinking… Cee xx

Past, Present, Perfect

2012-02-01T21:48:00.000Z

The C.U.D.D. ‘A description of the Bible – past, present, perfect. Expressing actions that happened at a certain time in the past and speaking of things that have just or not yet happened.’

I suppose we all can recall a time or incident where people have intentionally used nice words against us to make a point. Sometimes they have used them to hurt or even gossip about others, and in church we’ve all been around a nice bit of juicy gossip told ever so sweetly in prayer and ‘love.’ I’ve even fallen victim to preaching that used things I’d told in confidence as an example. The intention was good, but in the process my trust was betrayed and I lost all respect for the preacher. Sometimes we just don’t think before we speak… I include myself in that.

In my years as a church-goer I’ve seen countless times when Christians have used the Word as a weapon against each other. I’ve heard people quote scripture verses against each other in rebuke, or say something prophetic (but more like pathetic) which wounded the listener. Even though we all knew they had prior knowledge or information, they masked their revelation in scripture and prophecy in order to give added credibility to a hurtful statement. Instead of using the Word in order to encourage, too often I’ve seen it used as a tool for point scoring and making.

We’ve all met them, we know them full well, they among are our closest friends and our arch enemies, our family and colleagues, the stranger and the strangest. They are the gatekeepers of the soul and the callers for the truth. They are the ignorant neighbour and the knowledgeable minister. They are our brothers and sisters in Christ, and worst of all there’s a bit of them in each of us. They are what I call ‘Five past Stupid.’

Five past stupid and a quarter to wise,
Saying the first thing that comes into your mind,
Mouth misses the train, brain has not arrived,
Words are for looking wise in your own eyes.

Five past stupid and a quarter to wise,
Brain now running twenty minutes behind,
Mouth in the habit of running ahead,
Of conscious thought; consideration about what is said.

Five past stupid and a quarter to wise,
Brain stuck between two portals of time,
Too quickly speaking, Wisdom subdued,
Opinions may be right, might be valid, even true.

But what is lacking is timing and sense.
Then maybe, just maybe it won’t sound so dense,
And wound, and pierce the heart and the soul,
Adding to burdens your lack of control.

Five past stupid and a quarter to wise,
You talk of a people you want to despise.
Mouth disengaged with politics, culture and race,
Too late to speak wisely, too late to show grace.

Five past stupid and a quarter to wise,
Frozen between two places in time;
Wind up the clock, press pause then rewind.
Think before talking, try to be kind.

Strung mindlessly together words can hurt in a way,
That we don’t understand, think before we convey,
Rewind to Wisdom, understand Time,
Because it’s five past – Stupid; and a quarter to – Wise?

© 2010 C L Schlitter

I wrote that poem a couple of years ago after someone (who shall remain nameless) rebuked me. They brought up my past, bringing it into the present. They wanted to pray for me and chose a form of scriptural rebuke to make their point. They had the right word, but their timing was off, way off, and they were ‘five past.’ However, through it I learned a valuable lesson on the correct use of words.

The word of God is past, present, perfect.

In Psalm 119 the psalmist delights, meditates, learns, performs, observes, keeps, longs for, never forgets, loves and chooses the word above all things (his words not mine).

The word of God….

Lifts, cleanses, revives, endures forever, is settled in heaven, is a lamp to our feet, a light to our path, gives life, upholds, is righteous, is awesome, is faithful, is sweet, strengthens, teaches, helps, is established, brings salvation, is full of merciful kindness, directs our steps, contains hope, is truth, causes rejoicing, promises deliverance, makes us wise… and so much more! (taken from Psalm 119)

With so many good things from the word of God why do some choose to focus on negative uses? The Word of God is my daily instruction on how to live life and it is what got me through two operations last year, two bereavements and countless disappointments, the infallible Word of God. Written in the Past, it is ever Present and Perfect for all life’s situations.

How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Psalm 119:103)

Past, present, perfect. My clock is pointed towards ‘quarter to wise’ now, but I still have the occasional ‘five past’ moments and when I do, I go back to basics in my grammar and think of past present perfect… and the book with all the answers.

Cee x

Sweet Surrender

2012-01-06T16:55:00.000Z

It's the New Year and all around me I see people setting their New Year’s Resolutions. Some choose to diet, or do more exercise, others are determined to read the Bible through in a year or go on the luxury holiday they’ve been promising themselves since the last century.

I however, instead of picking my own resolution decided to enforce one on my husband. I have come to the belief that my beloved has an addiction. It is nothing too sinister but he has a penchant for sweets, in particular, Haribo and Maoam. We even have a little sweetie jar that he can be regularly seen sneaking into, and each morning when I go downstairs I am amazed at how quickly the sweets in the sweetie jar have disappeared. So this year my new year’s resolution for him was ‘No more sweets!’

But the problem with addiction is that no matter how much control I try to impose on him, he will inevitably somehow find himself in a shop, picking up a packet of his favourite gelatinous gems, and bringing them home with a cheeky grin on his face. Now I know I can’t really stop him and he’s not really addicted, but it made me think about the word addiction especially in terms of my relationship with God, as many years ago there were songs written about being 'Addicted to Jesus' and even 'Addictive Love.'

Addiction: (noun) the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.

Addiction is a noun, a naming word and is the name of a condition or state of mind. Now I love the aforementioned songs but in terms of my relationship with God I think it might be the wrong word for me. I am not enslaved to a habit or practice that is psychologically or physically habit forming. If I was then it wouldn’t be so easy to walk away from Him, especially during the times that I’ve messed up. And cessation of a relationship with God might not necessarily cause severe trauma in some people as in the case of some Christians who leave The Way, (although I do think of the eternal consequences which have a severity all of their own.)

I understand addiction well as my father was an alcoholic and I watched that addiction destroy the once jovial man he was. He had no choice but to drink, as drink had him under its control. Addictions control the user or abuser of substances; they govern, rule and sometimes ruin lives. I was chatting away to God the other morning (in other words praying) and something dropped into my mind….

With God it not about control, it is about surrender.

The very fact that I can walk away from God shows me that He is not some kind of enslaving tyrant who beats me into submission. For years I was enslaved to dieting or trying to control my eating, but I finally overcame my poor eating habits when I surrendered them to Him. Surrender is a verb, a doing word, and it is something that I have to do daily when it comes to this faith. It took me many years to finally fully surrender my life, my desires and my will to God. I did it when I realised...

God wants what's best for me.

So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir. Galatians 4:7

As a loving Father He wants to give His children the best for our lives. In this I'm not talking about material things but our hearts, our character, our lifestyle and wellbeing. What is best for me is to be fit and healthy and so it changed my thinking and my eating. Understanding God's desire for me to have a full life was key to my surrender. I’ve come to realise that in giving up my will, I gain everything. I gain the freedom to be myself and the freedom to choose life.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1

It is a sweet surrender.

The sweetest thing is that sin no longer has dominion over us. To surrender is to yield (something) to the possession or power of another. To surrender is to give (oneself) up to a Higher Power. To surrender is abandon selfish ways or relinquish that which we cannot overcome. To surrender is to yield or resign. It is only when we surrender that God can take control. He does not enslave us to Him but freely gives us life and choice.

For me this year is a year of sweet surrender and that is my New Year’s resolution. Not dieting, quitting or starting something new but giving up… to sweetly surrender to the love of God.

However, I’m sure the resolution I created for my beloved will be harder to maintain. Uh oh, I think I just heard him open the lid of the sweetie jar…

Happy New Year, Cee x

Living the Love

2011-12-13T22:57:00.000Z

As the year draws to a close I pause to reflect on what has passed. It has been an eventful year with few highs and many lows. On the downside this year I had two operations, suffered two bereavements, unemployment… I could go on and on. On the up side I started work on my third album, got a publishing deal for my book and I fell in love.

Now I haven’t had a mid-life crisis and traded my beloved in for a younger model. Even though his six pack has now turned into a plump cushion for my head to rest on! However, this year I found myself falling or I should say living the love.

I find that love is both wonderful and disconcerting. When we find true love it can be frightening to have someone who knows what is on our mind by the slightest change in facial expression. I find it disturbing that from the moment I step into the room my beloved can tell what kind of day I’ve had, and know exactly what to say to make it better – or even worse!

When we are in a crowded room and I am engrossed in conversation, surrounded by others, I find that with just one look in his direction we are instantly alone, in our world, in our knowledge of each other. You see, my husband knows me. He knows the worst of me, and believes the best of me.

Yet I didn’t fall in love with him this year. This year another Person captured my heart. In fact everything that I have just said about my beloved could be said about Him. I have been a Christian for most of my life and have had many spiritual experiences which have increased my fervour and faith, but this year I realised that I had to live a life of love.

‘…and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.’ Ephesians5:2

When I was younger and I read passages in the Bible that referred to God as a father or as a husband, I struggled. I had a false view of what a good husband or father could be, so I found it difficult to relate to. As a child I had few good examples of either in my life, and when I read that a husband was to love his wife as Christ loved the church I never thought I would ever meet a man who would give that kind of sacrificial love. (Ephesians 5:23-25) Things have long since changed and I have experienced the kind of love that has nursed me back to health, and gave me the freedom to be myself. I know the freedom that true love can bring for true love makes us free.

However I can still surprise my beloved with changes in behaviour or a change of mind. Yet before a word is on my tongue, or a new song is written, or even a new blog, God knows it completely. He knows the motivations of my heart, understands my moods, my past, my present and my future. As much as my loved ones know me, none of them were there when I was in the darkest times of my mind. And although no knows me as well as my husband does, there is One Person who knows me even more intimately.

‘O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in— behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.’
Psalm 139:1-6

For me, this year has been a year of love. Even with all the hardships, grief and disappointments there has been so much love surrounding me and my family – and it all came from above. God held us up in His love and as we say goodbye to 2011, and welcome in the New Year I want to encourage you to remain in His love.

No one knows you like He knows you;
No one cares like He does.
No one else can be there like He can as you face whatever trials the next year brings or as you try to make sense of the past year.

As the song 'Nobody', that I’ve written for the new album goes… ‘Jesus no one loves me better than You’

His love is there for all and for my final blog of the year I shall leave the last word to The Word….

‘To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father -- to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.’ Revelation 1:5-6

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year... still lovin’ Cee x

Digging D.E.E.P.

2011-11-26T09:36:00.001Z

The C.U.D.D. – D.E.E.P: Diamonds Experience Extreme Pressure

‘A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend…’ I have to say that I am partial to a bit of the old ‘ice.’ I don’t like much jewellery out there but give me a diamond solitaire and I’m smitten. Once a colleague of mine brought in a diamond engagement ring worth £15,000 and I tried it on, and it set me thinking. On my hand was something pristine, beautiful, shaped, and set in white gold, which was once an ugly lump of coal. When I examined it I could find no traces of the deep dark mine where it had come from. There were no signs of the dirty tools that had hacked it out of the depths of the mountain. There were no indications of pressure, struggle, or time.

It was a dazzling stone but I couldn’t help thinking about the fact that it had started out as a lump of coal. Take that coal and add the pressure of a mountain on top of it, then add the pressure of time. When that lump of coal finally becomes a diamond, it is mined and goes through different processes before it is passed to the jeweller for shaping. He or she finds the best areas or facets where it reflects light. They shine a light that glares on its errors and flaws, but instead of throwing it in the bin and saying it is useless, they hone it until it is beautiful.

Well, I’ve been an emotional lump … of coal that is, meaning that my life was dark, dusty and good for burning. At times I was burned, by others and myself, and thought I was all used up. Yet I was just buried under the mountain, and feeling the pressure. My goodness, if I had to list the times when I felt the pressure was too much, and I was about ready to give up, I’m sure that list would be a mile long. Yet there was Someone who dug deep to retrieve me, and then shape, polish and set me in my rightful place. He saw me as a diamond worth saving. But I still have coal experiences in my diamond life.

A few years ago a Pastor that I worked with blessed me in a way no other pastor had ever done. He knew me as a singer, but I was working in his church’s office and was in dark time in my life. My brother had recently passed away, I was dealing with the results of my first surgery on tumours and everything was dreary, dismal and dusty. I was sure the mountain of depression and grief that I was experiencing was to be the end of me. I was suffering anxiety attacks and had stopped singing, and everyone dropped me… I mean everyone! I could no longer sing and felt no longer viable. But God, the Master Jeweller, used this pastor to show me what He was really doing – honing my character. He was taking my coal experience and turning it into a diamond life.

The pastor passed me a booklet and challenged me to fill out a questionnaire on what my gifts were. It was a bit like one of those personality tests that we all have to do in jobs these days, but it was about spiritual gifts. He said he knew that I was not ‘just a singer,’ but he didn’t think that I knew it.

‘In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. So if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you. If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly.’ (Romans 12:6-8 NLT)

When I completed the questionnaire it said that my main gifts were hospitality (serving others) and encouragement, and I was not surprised at the results, for it was the area that I had been most tested in. The two areas where I had received the most pressure was in being sociable and depression. I was severely bullied at school, called offensive names, burned with cigarettes, held up with a knife, assaulted and more. This made me turn into a piece of coal as far as people were concerned and my friendships burned up quicker than a coal fire. I just couldn’t trust others.

As I got older I dealt with a lot of the issues I had and learned to love and trust again, but when I was betrayed by a friend, the pressure on me deepened. Depression took hold, and I couldn’t even use the talent I had of writing songs to either encourage myself, or others. So God set a plan in action and used the pastor to shine a Light on my character, by showing me the hospitable person I had become. I saw that I loved making others feel welcome and liked to talk to those that others ignore. This is because I can’t stand the thought of anyone feeling the way I did. I like to use and encourage musicians who are struggling to find support, backing or just don’t think they’re good enough, because that was me. It was another diamond life experience where the Master Jeweller held me up towards His light and smoothed away my limitations on myself.

I can now appreciate my diamond life but I also have diamond dreams. They are D.E.E.P. and sometimes I have to dig deep to see them come out to their full potential. My dreams have experienced extreme pressure and at times it still feels that they will never come true. This year in the middle of making my third album, I had to have more surgery and the recovery has taken a lot longer than I thought it would. It has delayed the work but do I give up, do I stop singing; do I quit trying? Heck no!

I’m Digging D.E.E.P as Diamonds Experience Extreme Pressure.

I’ve decided to dig even deeper and find that extra strength to carry on. I’m diamond mining for diamond dreams and I’d like to encourage you to join me. You see the thing that you’re facing, or the pressure you’re under might be as big, and as heavy as mountain. Whatever you’ve been waiting for might have taken as long as twenty, thirty or even forty years, but you’re not alone. Look at Abraham’s wife Sarah (Genesis 17 &18). She waited so long for a child of her own that she felt compelled to try any means possible, and chose surrogacy. It was and is still a method used today, but God had a surprise in store for the 90 year old woman. She gave birth to a son in her old age, and we all know nowadays that it is possible – although I haven’t heard of a nonagenarian giving birth yet!

Waiting for our dreams to come true or changing our view on life is hard. But I’ve learned that in order for me to reflect God’s light, He hones away the parts of my character that are blocking it. That could be pride, jealousy, lust, addiction, short-temper; selfishness… the list is endless. It sometimes hurts when we see our character faults glaring out at us and we find ourselves wanting. Yet the Master Jeweller still holds us up, taking the diamonds that we are and polishing away the flaws, until His light is the only light we see.

We are diamonds in the making. Our dreams are diamond dreams so we don’t need to be jealous when we see others rising to positions ahead of us. Remember, shooting stars burn out fast. It is better to be a diamond, one that is shaped and ready for use in the most special times, than to be elevated and burned up as a lump of coal, useful for one time only.

Diamonds are really useful. They are used to cut the toughest metals but also the finest precision engravings. They are used as a sign of commitment and are an expensive expression of love, and that is who we are to God.

We are His diamond expression of love.

I leave you with my own version of a classic song…

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…
These little dreams of mine, they’re gonna take their time
This little heart of mine, it’s gonna be just fine
So let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

…diamond bright! Cee xx

The Hyped Title

2011-11-20T08:52:00.001Z

'The C.U.D.D - a Hyped Title is the practice of assigning titles and naming what we do as ministry.’

Although Christian jargon and vernacular often calls my concerts ‘ministry,’ when it is stripped back to the basics I am really just a musician entertaining people. Yes, I also believe that I am fulfilling a part of the bible which tells us to encourage one another with songs (Ephesians 5:19) but I call it what it is – Christian entertainment, and there is nothing wrong with that. However, I’ve been thinking about what I do a lot recently as we revamp my website. As I approve headings, descriptions and general information about me, with labels and titles, I ask myself the question, do I really want to play the Hyped Title game?

We’ve all seen people with Hyped Titles, even in our jobs sometimes the title slightly exaggerates what we actually do. In my early working life I was an office junior. I now see similar posts advertised as Admin Assistant, and being a junior secretary is sometimes called a PA, a senior secretary an Executive PA. The jobs remain the same but the title loftily gives it a kind of grandeur. This made me think when revamping my website… are we doing the same in church today?

Subconsciously I find that the minute someone puts a title on what they do, my mind sees it elevated to another level… it becomes ‘Ministry.’ I think this stems from thirty-five years of church life and some of the teaching I heard in the past. Yet nowadays, everywhere I look I’ve started to see new titles that are separate to the deacon, elder, pastor or evangelist titles of old. On facebook I meet with ‘Prophets’ or ‘Prophetesses’, ‘Chosen Ones’, ‘Anointed of God,’ and even a ‘Lady’ or two. Although many of these are more predominant in Black led churches I’ve seen many other grandiose names that seemingly announce the purpose and passion of the people concerned. Now I’m not criticising those who have been given titles or have bestowed them upon themselves. We all label the things we do, even me. It’s just that some of the titles are a lot to live up to.

I mean who would choose the title prophet? I can only go by what I read in scripture but it seems to me that it is a lonely, sometimes depressing, harsh lifestyle. I don’t think I’ve seen many of the people entitling themselves prophets talking about contemplating suicide under a tree because they obeyed God (1 Kings 19:4). And some even live in a type of luxury that is hard to compare with the sacrifices made by prophets of scripture. Is there a point to a title without the vital, a name without the pain; a gospel role without a soul?

It could be that some of them haven’t given much thought to the real meaning of their titles. For example, I’d love to ask ‘Anointed of God’ what they are anointed for as sometimes the title doesn’t give much away as to what they do, it’s a bit vague. You see, a title can say who you are but not what you actually do. Even the term Pastor doesn’t mean what it used to. A Pastor can be a celebrity speaker rather than the type of community worker that I knew in my childhood or that we read of in Bible times (1Timothy 3).

If I follow current trends, as a singer/songwriter I could try to claim the title ‘The Encourager’ but it sounds more like a movie title, and is ridiculous and pretentious. I have settled on a title, but the one I chose is a hard one to live up to, and a difficult role to fulfil. The title adequately defines what I do and who I am, but is not very prestigious and won’t single me out. But its lack of ‘Hype’ is its charm as it says who I follow and is the most vital title I have – a Christian.

The title Christian literally means ‘follower of Christ’ and that also means trying to be like Him. Well, trying to be like someone who has the highest titles of all is a little tricky, just look at some of them, ‘… he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’ (Isaiah 9:6)

But the thing about the Man who was given these prestigious titles was that he chose to humble himself and come among us. At times he allowed himself to be called titles that were just not true. He was called a liar by some, a drunkard by others, and was verbally abused by many a religious leader of that time. He lowered Himself in order to share in the lives of others, and came in human form being a little lower than the angels.

‘But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honour because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.’ (Hebrews 2:9)

The Vital Title is to be like Jesus, to know Him, and to love like Him. (Philippians 3:10) Being like Him means humility and is the opposite of elevation and title chasing. In being a Christian I carry the name of a life lived extraordinarily, and a love overflowing to the point of the ultimate sacrifice. In the title Christian I bear the name of one who was unselfish. Now it can be hard to live up to that name when I face my own petty ways, lack of compassion, prejudices, judgment or unforgiveness. Yet that is what I must do daily as a Christian.

Perhaps the best thing about it is that I don’t have to have a ‘ministry’ to use the name, none of us do as we can all be Christ-ones. Do we really need to have highfalutin titles that might make us unapproachable? Maybe if we all took the meaning of our Vital Title more seriously, and loved as He loved, we might see more people in the faith… just a thought.

The Vital Title is ‘Christian.’ That doesn’t mean that I am just like Jesus, as believe me, I am very much a work in progress. But I try to be like Him as I was given the title Christian the day I accepted Him as Saviour. I know it is not glamorous, and is often despised and ridiculed, but I’ll take the vital over the Hyped Title anytime.

That being said, I’m off to trouble ‘The Enforcer of the Rules’ (my beloved) and deal with my children in my role as ‘Head of Family Relations.’ Oh yes, and I have an important meeting scheduled as 'Chairman of the Board' for Schlitter Clothing Incorporated (a meeting with the ironing board).

Still thinking… Cee xx

Spirit Level

2011-11-06T05:00:00.000Z

The C.U.D.D. – Spirit Level is an intriguing measurement of a person’s faith, which can give false readings unless accurately measured against scripture.’

Once upon a time my beloved was asked a question – ‘On a scale of one to ten where would you place yourself spiritually?’

Well, being the man he is, he was reluctant to answer such a question, as contemplating it meant a certain level of arrogance, and that is something he just doesn’t have. He is über confident yes, but arrogance is just not him, so when he was asked a question like that he paused to think.

Some people might place themselves at ten, they pray incessantly, see miracles, and have faith to move mountains etc. A modest person might answer five, not wanting to appear as having an overinflated sense of their own spirituality. Others might place themselves at one, not going to church, or praying or reading their Bible, feeling distant from God, grading themselves dreadfully low on the scale.

My beloved, as usual, answered the question with other questions – What is spirituality? How do we measure it on a scale? If there is a ten, when would a Christian know they reached it? If so, are we grading ourselves and each other on a scale, just like the world with Performance Reviews in the work place?

He didn’t answer the question as I might have done, but that’s my man for you. He has no concept of levels or grades when it comes to spirituality. He was brought up a pastor’s kid and saw many a great leader cross the threshold of his family home, and as a consequence saw them as they ate, talked, and socialised with him. For him the only time a true measurement of a person can be taken is by being with them, but that measurement is not a Spirit Level.

In the Bible there is only one time I can think of that a graded level was used for someone terms of their relationship with God, and it was a conversation that Jesus had with the disciple Peter. Now, Jesus didn’t ask Peter about the amount of time he spent in prayer, as he would have failed that one when he fell asleep when Jesus asked him to pray. He didn’t even listen to him talk a ‘good talk’, as he knew he would deny him three times. Jesus used a different kind of spirit level and measured him by the characteristics of God.

Jesus asked the disciple Peter three times if he loved Him (John 21:14-18), and each time a different word for love was used. He asked him if he loved him naturally, then as a brother, then finally with God’s love – Agape. He wanted to know if Peter would love others the way that He did, and look after the family of God. God’s children should end up acting like him, and that was why Jesus deepened the love every time he asked Peter ‘Do you love me?’ He wanted to know if he had Agape love, the greatest love of all.

‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.’ John 13:35

But what about faith, and the power ministries, surely these people have level ten spirituality? Well, in terms of faith, I see that Jesus commended a centurion for having great faith, but then talked about tiny mustard seed faith moving mountains (Matthew 8:12-14;17:20). It seems contradictory, but I’ve been thinking that this is not a grade of the amount of faith we have. It is Jesus saying, (put in my own words). ‘Look y’all, your faith may be way small, but when you know how great your God is, even that tiny amount is enough to move that big heap a’ mountain in front of ya!’

It is God who is great and not our faith, and by using a mustard seed as an example Jesus is showing that the power of God is so amazing, that even faith that tiny can move any obstacle or problem we are facing.

Spirit Levels are a misnomer in terms of the Christian faith. One cannot really take a measurement of someone’s spirituality on a scale of one to ten. It is probably better to use a real spirit level, which is an instrument that is lined up against a surface to see if it is straight. In fact, we do have that, for though as Christians we are not to judge others, (although we often do!) we can measure each other by one passage which says, ‘Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them' (Matthew 7:17-20).

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:21-23

Maybe the question of spirit levels should be how much fruit of the spirit do we show our day to day lives? How much love do we show our enemies? How much joy do we have when going into work on a Monday morning? Are we the peacemaker when arguments and conflicts arise? How forbearing are we with those who are ignorant or even prejudiced? How kind and good are we to our neighbour? And even more personal that that, how faithful are we to our husbands, wives, children, family and friends? Not forgetting gentleness and self-control… how much of these do we all have?

These are the true measurements of my spirit level.

My beloved was very glad that he was asked that question because it sparked a chain of thoughts, conversations, and of course this blog. It helped us to think about our Spirit Level and realise what our level was … something that can’t be measured, but can be seen and tasted – our fruit.

By our fruits you will know us … Mmm … I know its not talking of actual fruit but can I be a mango? - Sweet, plump, juicy, with a lot of flava! Cee x

Positive Sinking

2011-10-30T05:04:00.000Z

The C.U.D.D. - ‘Positive sinking occurs when certain types of Christian do not allow others to express their true feelings by always giving a positive statement.’

Falling victim to Positive Sinking is one of my favourite pastimes at the moment. It appeals to the cynic in me that believes in the innate ability of the church to adopt methods of the world and Christianise them beyond belief. Just as with the Crankers (see previous blog) the Christian race, as opposed to the human race, has perhaps unwittingly taken another world device, attached Christian text and vernacular to it, and made it our own. I’m talking about positive confession here.

I usually see three types of positive confession. The first can lead to people not facing the reality of their situation, the second, tells everyone that they have a destiny, purpose or plan. But in hearing these things we can forget that our main destiny is heaven, our main purpose is to show the love of Christ, and our main plan is to live according to His word. The third is Positive Sinking … let me explain.

When mentioning the rare condition I have and the tumours that are in my face I get many responses, often encouraging, helpful and supportive, but I shall give a few examples of the positive thinking/sinking type:

‘No, don’t say ‘my tumours’ don’t confess that, you curse yourself.’
‘You look well to me, it can’t be that bad. Anyway just remember God is your healer.’
‘Keep confessing your health and claim the healing that’s yours.’

Now, part of me wants to throttle these people for their lack of sensitivity, but I admit some of these statements aren’t half bad, and when backed up with a bit of scripture they sound positively encouraging….apart from one thing.

Sometimes positive thinking can leave others positively sinking.

These, too often quickly said, positive one-off statements, can belittle the suffering that others are enduring. When people have gone through their angst and questions, searched through the Bible, and prayed diligently for health and wholeness, a tritely confessed statement of faith can be a little hard to swallow. These words will not do for those people and remember Jesus did not say, ‘say to this mountain, you are not a mountain.’ He called it as it is:

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.

Nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20

What we sometimes do is take the ‘you can say’ part of the scripture and not look at it in its context. Jesus said it was a mountain, but He also said that it could be moved with faith, not positive confession. Jesus was talking about faith.

Positive thinking can set others positively sinking because it can be a denial of the real stuff that is happening to people, and therefore a denial of their pain. But God cares about that pain. The Bible is full of examples of people in distress and doubt, there are even books on it; Job, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and even the Psalms which are full of praise, contain such negative confessions of loss and doubt. Yes, even doubt. Just look at poorly titled Doubting Thomas. My beloved said something so profound the other day (even after nearly twenty years of knowing him he still manages to surprise me!) about the disciple.

He said that everyone concentrates on the fact that Thomas the disciple doubted, yet ignore that fact that God loved him so much that He appeared to Thomas to show His scars as proof. Yes, Jesus told him to stop doubting and blessed those who believe and have not seen, but look at the love that still loved the doubter. Here was someone completely negative, without faith in the resurrection but God chose to prove Himself to a mere man once again. He even loved us enough to place the account in scripture so that even if we doubt, we see He can handle it. (John 20:24-29) Wow, what a God we serve!

So, can I ask the Positive Sinkers to bear with me a little? Some people might not confess the faith you have, but they live it everyday. In my sickness I discovered that every time I keep going instead of giving in I confess the goodness of God. Every time I’m hurt by someone and still forgive I show the love of God, and every time I still believe in spite of the trials I’ve been through, I see the power of God who keeps me from falling.

‘To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—’ Jude 1:24

Just as Doubting Thomas, we might not have a positive confession, but the same Jesus is able to keep us, and present us without fault, and great joy. Just as for Thomas, Jesus showed up – The Living Word showed up, and it is on The Word that we depend, and not a faith statement.

So, if you’re a Positive Sinker, the next time you meet someone in the faith who might not seem as positive as you, perhaps take the time to sit down with them and find out why. You might be able to encourage them with your own testimony of how you overcame by the word of your testimony (Revelation 12:11), or maybe they’ll be the ones encouraging you.

And if you’re going through times of doubt, or can’t say positive things at all, that’s OK. I’ve always found that His love is the most positive confession of all. Cee xx

Bucket List

2011-10-16T00:00:00.000+01:00

The C.U.D.D. – Bucket List: ‘Memories to create before time passes by.’

There are a couple of times in my life when I almost died, and although traumatic for my family, each time, I was oblivious to the danger I was in. Sedated up to my eyeballs, I blissfully slept whilst my body fought to survive. Yet, there is nothing as sobering a wake-up call like a near death experience. Afterwards, it was inevitable that I ended up assessing my life, and in the process, composed a Bucket List of things to do before I kick the proverbial bucket.

Most Bucket Lists I’ve seen contain adventures, ramblings around the world, bungee jumping, mountain climbing and all manner of exotic exploits, but, I’m not an adventurous person.

My Bucket List was boring.

First of all I wanted to read all the classics, and I trawled my way through Tolstoy, Shakespeare and the like. Some were enjoyable, others incomprehensible, and a few were divine. Then, I wanted to perfect my crochet (I know, I’m SO boring!), and now I’m crochet addict. Finally, I wanted to see one of my musical heroes in concert, and in 2008 my hubby took me to see Stevie Wonder, and he was amazing! I could probably have added a few more things, but then life took over and I was too busy for my Bucket List.

I’m a workaholic, in every sphere of my life, be it home, work or church. This is not a thing that I am proud of, as it can be excessive. When I was in the worship team at church I gave my time, sometimes to the detriment of my family and when I toured as a Gospel singer I regularly came home in the early hours. Years later, as an office worker I brought work home, often too busy to spend time in idle play. Even now as a writer I can be glued to my laptop, editing and correcting my manuscript.

But last year when I was disabled and unable to do even the smallest of tasks for my family, I realised that what I really wanted was to spend more time with them. Being bedridden, and then only able to walk with assistance, I couldn’t go to my son’s football matches, couldn’t watch my daughter get her awards in music and German, or just go for walks with them, cook for them, do anything for them. It made me realise I didn’t need a Bucket List,

– I needed a Chuck it List!

What years of illness have taught me is if there is something that I don’t need in my life, that would hinder me from spending more time with God, my beloved, or time with the best gifts God has given me (my children), then it has to go. I put on my Chuck it List.

I’m not a minister (nor would I ever want to be) but in the Bible it asks the question, ‘If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?’ (1Timothy 3:3-5) And I was thinking about that passage, and realised that spending time with our families is the answer to that question.

So, I de-cluttered my life, and now manage my time. Sure, I don’t go out as much, and when I start touring next year, the priorities in my diary will be the children’s activities, and the ‘just us’ time that my husband and I schedule, but these are things that matter. These are the things that strengthen us as family and are what I really treasure.

Maybe, like me you need to chuck out the excess and the stress. We can be so caught up with working hard, and bringing home the bacon and it might add to our lives materially, but maybe not spiritually, emotionally or physically.

‘Better is a little with the fear of the Lord,

Than great treasure with trouble.

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,

Than a fatted calf with hatred.’

Proverbs 15:16-17 (NKJV)

My life now revolves around the walls that I live in, and the people they contain. When asked what I do for a living, I’m more likely to say that I’m a housewife than singer /writer and all the other things I do. Believe me, this is not false modesty. I say housewife because when I was sick, looking after house and home was the thing that I wanted to do most of all. At one point I was so ill I couldn’t be with or look after my family. Now, I see it as my primary role, and I’m not ashamed to say that I love it.

The things I want to do before I die are things that I can do everyday, and my Bucket list now reads:

Create lasting memories.
Appreciate the little, and enjoy the lot.
Laugh, laugh and laugh again.

Every day I achieve my Bucket List and each Sunday evening as we switch off the TV and play Scrabble, Monopoly or Frustration, lasting memories are created. We compete, argue and laugh – a lot. I appreciate the little time we have and enjoy the rowdy lot I’ve got!

So what is the Bucket List for you; things to do before you die, or memories to create before time passes by?

Bucket and Chuck it – I’m doing both, anybody wanna join me? Cee x

Crankers!

2011-10-09T00:00:00.000+01:00

The C.U.D.D. – A Cranker is someone who employs various schemes and devices in order to extract money from a giver.

In September as we were waiting in the hospital room preparing for my latest operation, my husband and I had an in depth conversation on the nature of giving in church today. Probably not the type of issue most couples would discuss before surgery, but that’s us, and it’s about as romantic as it gets! My beloved and I came to the conclusion that we have taken a lot of the business practices of the bankers and applied them to our giving. Well, we all know the end result of their practices (banking crisis, credit crunch), so that can’t be good. It made me think about my own relationship with the Crankers (Christian Bankers) of this world.

He called one of the ways we give Pyramid Tithing – This is a form of giving based on pyramid selling, where we are told to give a certain amount and the ‘bank’ of God will multiply it back to us. It is giving to get. The problem is the person at the top of the pyramid gets the money, and can fly around in a private jet.

I’ve been witness to Shareholder Giving – This is the kind of giving that sees itself as a long term investment, and the value of the shares may go down as well as up. It comes with rights and privileges, and ‘a whole lotta meetings’. The investor believes that because they gave to the church building fund, they have a say in how the church is run, what the pastor preaches and who gets the best seats.

Let’s not forget the Debt Collectors – This is one that I’m very familiar with. It’s giving in a pressurised environment. We’re told we are not blessed, rich or prosperous because we don’t give. In fact, I’ve even heard someone say that I owed a debt to God and that I was practically stealing if I didn’t give. Being me, it only made me avoid the dreaded Debt Collector.

Then there are the Ticker Tapers – This is the type of giving that gives to tele-campaigns and the giver’s name is rolled across the bottom of the screen announcing and applauding how much was given. When it is adopted by certain Christian TV networks it is a questionable method of giving, especially in view of Jesus’ teaching about not announcing our giving. (Matthew 6:1-4)

Recently I was astonished to witness Lottery Giving – Whilst recuperating from my operation I watched this take place on a certain Christian TV channel. The ‘minister’ (I use that term very loosely) implored people to give and then he would pray for (or pick) someone to receive the ‘blessing’. If that’s not a lottery I don’t know what is, and the whole show reminded me of the national lottery - you had to be 'in it to win it.'

Crackers! Bankers! Crankers! All these schemes and others like them, when used in the church, missions or evangelistic context are akin to the traders that Jesus had to deal with (Matthew 21). The Crankers methods don’t really persuade me to give, and in these credit crunch times I think we are all getting a little tired of the hard sell. The joy of giving is lost in the persuasive techniques used to frighten, cajole, or blackmail the money out of our accounts. They miss the point that the blessing is in the giving.

When my husband and I got married over 15 years ago, we went through a time of hardship. During that time we learned not only to give but to receive. We often received from people who had little themselves, but they gave with the joy that comes from helping someone else. We found that sometimes the most generous people were the ones who didn’t have much.

‘… Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.’ Mark 12:41-44

Just like the poor woman, people gave to us because they cared. They gave because they loved. They understood what it was like to have nothing so they gave to us, and that in turn, drives us to do the same. In the Bible there was a church that did this. Their ‘extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity’ and they had overflowing joy. (2 Cor. 8:2). They could empathise with others in need and gave because they cared. There is joy in helping someone else, in giving to someone else, in caring for someone else – it sounds just like something Jesus would do and after all, God is the ultimate giver. (John 3:16)

‘But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.’ Matthew 6:3-5

Let’s give to help the needy. Let’s just give because it's good to do so. There are charities, shelters, soup kitchens and churches here today because people gave. Giving is good, so, I’m gonna stay away from bankers and Crankers and just give.

By the way, can anyone lend me a fiver? You'll be 'blessed' if you do.

Just kidding… Cee xx

X-Factor Seekers

2011-10-02T00:00:00.000+01:00

The C.U.D.D. - 'A person who seeks and elevates spiritual gifts to the point of ignoring their original purpose or design, and therefore subjugating the love that should govern them.’

I have visited all types of denominations and churches: Anglican and Catholic, Baptist, New Testament, Church of God of Prophecy, Methodist, United Reformed…. the list goes on and on. I have been to them all, and sung at most of them as well. Each one has their own particular stance on spiritual gifts and speaking in tongues, and I’m not going to go into the doctrinal evidence for the use of spiritual gifts today. I have enough sense to stay away from that kind of territory, but I admit to being one of those Charismatic Christians who regularly prays in tongues in my QT (Quiet Time).

I was raised Pentecostal from the age of five, but I have to say my preference (despite all appearances), is definitely on the practical, quiet, outworking of the faith and service to others, rather than power and platform.

I recently had a conversation with someone who was critiquing the worship and singing of a particular church (which shall remain nameless) that we had been to. Now, apart from the fact that the worship leader was so lost in his own worship that he forgot to lead, and the music was far too loud, and it was obvious that some of the singers had trained at the X-Factor audition academy (that is all flounce and no trousers!), I didn’t think it was that bad. They were doing their best and that is all we can do, and all God wants. My friend had other opinions, and came out with a statement that had me inwardly rolling in laughter because I had heard it so many times before, from me:

‘They sang in self – there was no Spirit.’

Well, I restrained myself from laughing out loud and tried to gently correct them.

When I was nineteen years old I had felt and said very much the same thing, and was even goaded by a friend to go up to a pastor that I didn’t even know and tell him what I thought of his worship team. Oh, the arrogance of youth, (that’s my excuse anyway). But my friend was years older than me and should have known better. If you read my book you’ll get an understanding of where my mind was at the time. I’ve since apologised for my rude behaviour.

You see, I’ve learned something in the twenty plus years since I used to think I was the font of all knowledge when it came to spiritual things. I didn’t know it then but I was a pre-incarnate Simon Cowell. I was judging people, services, churches and worship by the apparent evidence of power that I thought I should have seen or heard in the music. I completely missed out on the love.

My opinion on ‘singing in self’ changed when I had to write an essay on what singing means to me. (I might put it on my MySpace blog) Through writing it I saw that it meant so much and more as it is my way of loving God with all my heart, soul, and mind - I sing in self. In fact, we all sing ‘in self’ as we are the people who are singing, and we are to love the Lord with our soul, heart and mind – yes ourselves! (Luke 10:27)

What I did when I was younger was try to be The Holy Spirit’s personal watchman, seeking out where He is or is not. But I am not called to be an X-Factor judge – judging others according to some kind of Charismatic Talent Scale. We can speak in tongues, heal the sick, hold powerful meetings and get all shook up, but if there is no love it means nothing (1Corinthians 13), and I’ve long since learned that it is better to live by fruit of the Spirit than to emphasise and concentrate on the gifts.

‘But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.’ Galatians 5:22-26

God is the only one who sees the spirit (heart) of man. When I was younger I didn’t see that living by the Spirit meant that my own spirit should not be conceited, and definitely should not have criticised someone else’s service.

I desire and pray I operate in spiritual gifts but I’ve learned to place the gifts of the Spirit in their appropriate place and order. They are wonderful gifts from God to us, to be used in and with love. They don't take precedence over love, for God is love. (1 John 4:15-17)

Now that I concentrate on the fruit of the spirit I've changed from being an X-Factor Seeker into someone enjoying the Love Factor. I found out that the Love Factor was what was missing from my X-Factor:

‘Love is patient,

love is kind.

It does not envy,

it does not boast,

it is not proud.

It does not dishonour others,

it is not self-seeking,

it is not easily angered,

it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.’ 1 Corinthians 13:4-9

So my fellow judges – do you have the X-Factor? Do you have that extra anointing that people shiver at when you sing, preach or teach? Does your very shadow cause people to be healed of their diseases? Can you prophesy, speak in tongues, and see the motives of men? Do you know when God is 'in da house' and when He is not? Are you the new Elijah, Elisha, Jeremiah, and prophesier for this generation? No?

Aw shucks, you must be just like me then…

Picking the love factor every time… Cee xx

Melon-head

2011-09-25T00:00:00.000+01:00

The C.U.D.D - A form of tenacity that produces a winning attitude and fierce determination.

I am a melon-head, both literally and metaphorically speaking.

I have a condition called Gigantiform Cementoma, and if you Google it and look at the images of what it can produce you will see that it is extremely rare causing tumours in the bones of its sufferers, mainly in the jaw and face. I’m sure you can understand that as a singer, how devastated I was when I first was diagnosed many years ago. It put an end to the touring and promotion of my second album ‘Your Goodness,’ and in fact I wrote the song ‘When U Praise’ the day after I was told that ‘Harry’ (the name I gave the first tumour) had to be removed.

Well, Harry finally met Sally (the name I gave to the lump I had removed this month), and although they managed to ‘get busy’ and leave me with more lumps in my jaw, I shouldn’t have to have surgery on those for a while at least. The operation involved reshaping my jawbone which had become malformed and the following days of recovery were excruciatingly painful.

Day three was the worst and I was a true melon-head. My face was blown up like the aforementioned fruit, and no amount of strong painkillers could give me respite from the array of stitches inside my mouth that stretched from my lower jaw all the way up into my cheek. In fact for the first three days I couldn’t even cry as that would have caused more pain. Every movement of muscle in my face, even to closing my eyes hurt, and smiling was definitely NOT an option.

Why am I subjecting you to this graphic description of the torture of maxillofacial surgery? Well, throughout those days I was in despair. I couldn’t sleep, eat or even think straight, and no amount of comfort from my beloved hubby could console me as I writhed in agony. By day five I finally managed to cry and then I cried for two days solid and felt very sorry for myself. On days six and seven I decided to listen to Gospel songs. I encouraged my soul with music that for me, reaches the parts others just can’t reach, and boy did it satisfy and renew my soul.

One of the songs I played about fifty times changed my perspective from pity to praise. It stirred me to keep going at all costs, through the pain and through the tears, and to still believe in the love and presence of God in spite of my circumstances. It might seem ridiculous that someone who is plagued with illness is still stubbornly determined to complete their third album. In fact, I am working on it even though I am still unwell. Unlike the song ‘His eye is on the Sparrow,’ I do not sing because I am happy. To tell the truth I can be a miserable, grumpy grouch who takes vexation to a whole new level of stupid!

But that is me - I’m a melon-head!

I’ve been called stubborn in the past, but I prefer the word tenacious. I can’t let go, because I know that God has been my refuge and strength and has never abandoned me. For the Bible says:

‘The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed,

a stronghold in times of trouble.

Those who know your name trust in you,

for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.’

Psalm 9:9-10

On day eight I received some visitors and one of them began to discuss my predilection for suffering and trials, saying the infamous words; ‘I wonder if it was something you ate, or whether it was inherited; I wonder who is to blame.’ I could quote you many inanely facile and insensitive things that have been said to me by some people in the past few years, and could write a book called: ‘What not to say! – A Comedic Essay on Words of Comfort'- but I won't. What I did do whilst I had a gaping hole where my teeth used to be, and a mouth full of stitches, was give a determined answer to my visitor quoting this passage from the Bible:

‘As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.’ John 9:1-3

This is me, the Melon-head – someone who refuses to believe in past curses and the ‘sins of the fathers’. As a Christian I am not immune from the things of life and the pain that people from other faiths or of no religious beliefs at all go through. We are all human, and go through trials, but the difference is that I am a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17) and in Him I find the strength to carry on. In fact it's not about me, it's about Him and the fact that He is able to keep me going in spite of my despair.

Recently my soccer star son was playing in a match and he was fouled most grievously. In anger he wanted to wreak revenge on the person who hurt him, but he knew that he should not (he’s a lot brighter than some of the professional players who have hissy fits on the pitch!) Instead he took the Melon-head route, one I have to say was given to him (and me) by his father. Although tearful and hurt, he got up, brushed himself off and continued his game. He didn’t hit back or curse, but got on with the game at hand, and guess who scored the winning goal – you got it, my boy!

Well, I’m doing the same and you can to. Whether it’s sickness, the need for a job, a home, a new life, we all have things that knock us down and set us back. I know that being a Melon-head isn’t for everyone, and it might not be your way of keeping on going, but can I encourage those of you who might be in despair. It's okay to cry, to moan, to be angry or even vex about the bad things life throws at us - God hears and understands every emotion. Just remember that in Christ, we’re on the winning team anyway, and victory has already been assured.

‘But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.’

1 Corinthians 15:57

I leave you with the song that blessed me so much (click the link below) – it even made this swollen faced, melon-head smile. Enjoy! Cee xx

The Daily Cleaner

2011-09-18T23:00:00.000+01:00

The Daily Cleaner – The C.U.D.D.

‘A process of looking at oneself and checking pride andhumility levels – an enema for the soul.’

When I was younger my mother had all manner of naturalremedies for what ailed me: from Cerasee tea to root ginger tea; Mauby tea andthe odd spoonful of molasses. I was given these natural cleansers anytime I was ill. Woes betide if she got out the milk ofmagnesia or cod liver oil – anything but them, for they were cleansers like no other and tasted vile. Iwould run away from her whenever she mentioned one of these remedies, andwhen I became a teenager I scorned these inner-cleansing solutions as simple West Indian, 'back-a-yard,' herbalnonsense.

As a cleaner for the local council, my mother got some ofthese home remedies from fellow cleaners. My ‘enlightened’ teenage mind arrogantly refused to acknowledge the wisdom thatcame from these often disregarded and lowly-ranked women who enter busy offices early in themorning or last thing at the end of the day, silently and invisibly working around the staff. Sometimes a quickacknowledgement and brief smile would be given by a staff member, but moreoften than not the cleaners were ignored – so instead they passed on their words, and their wisdom to each other, and they in turn, onto their children.

When I was older I ended up doing a bit of cleaning myselfin order to help pay my way through my three years at Bible College. I found that the demeaning tasks we had to dowere nothing in comparison to the way some of the people treated me as a‘simple’ cleaner. Some were aggressiveor abrupt, but the worst were the ones who treated me as though I wereinvisible. It gave me a small insightinto how my mother must have been treated in her ten plus years of cleaning. I gained a renewed respect for her, her job, and her remedies. It was a true cleansing of my soul as mypride got knocked down a peg or two in the process.

So, recently when my daughter wasn’t feeling very well I made her a cup of ginger tea. She watched in bewilderment as I grated fresh root ginger, boiled it up in a pot of water and after it had stewed for a bit I poured her and myself two cups of tea. Atfirst she was reluctant to drink it, the pungent aroma made her sneeze, and when she took her first sip the heat of the ginger caused an initial coughing fit that was so violent that I had to pat her back with brute force. I even heard my mother's voice come out of my own mouth as I said, 'Chil', simmer down, hush up and drink up!' It was a scene of comic proportions and contortions, but by the time she finished it my girl found that it hadindeed settled her stomach. Amazed, she asked me how I knew it would do that, and where I got the remedy from. With great pleasure the answer came to me very easily and I said, 'From your Nan' - a mere cleaner.

It’s the simple things in life we forget.

Sometimes the wisdom that we seek can be found in thesimplest of things and apparently the lowliest of people.

‘Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish inorder to shame those who think they are wise. And He chose things that arepowerless to shame those who are powerful.’ (1 Corinthians 1:27 NLT)

How often do we rush to speak to the minister or dignitary who has enteredthe church, but not the elderly widow; the young hoody; the poorly dressed or seemingly inconsequential person who has walked in behind the VIP? Howoften do we speak to the Director of the company but ignore the Caretaker? How often do we ignore the apparently lessable, fortunate or eloquent amongst us? And how often do we forget the humble cleaner who possibly has morelessons to teach us than the most dynamic of preachers?

After my early experiences I use remembering to talk to the cleaner as my own 'enema' for my soul. This works particularly well when I have, in the past, sung in front of thousands, and then had queues of people lining up for autographs and the like. I sign every CD in the humbling knowledge that I am the daughter of a former cleaner who was regularly ignored. I remember my own experience of being a cleaner and the many low paid, poorly regarded jobs I've had to do. I remember to use my Daily Cleaner - which is tonever forget humble beginnings.

‘And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive thecrown of glory that will never fade away. In the same way, you who are younger,submit yourselves to your elders. Allof you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, “God opposes the proud but shows favour tothe humble.” Humble yourselves,therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.’1Peter 5:4-6 (NIV)

We all have something that is our own Daily Cleaner, areminder to remain in humility and respect for one another. You may not come from a working-classbackground as I did, but even if you have been brought up in relative luxury,I’m sure if you go back and see where you have come from, you will find you startedsomewhere. We were all children once,all learning, growing and changing, and that is how Christ wants us to be.

‘And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change andbecome like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’Matthew 18:3

The remedies that I despised as a youth are now the verythings I use, and I got them from a daily cleaner (my beautiful mother). The lesson I learned is now the Daily Cleanerthat I apply to myself and is my deep cleansing remedy for self-importance and pride.

'For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.' Romans 12:3

It is good to have a Daily Cleaner and reminder, but the flip side also applies. You might not think highly of yourself at all. You might think you have nothing to offer, but you do. You are just the type of person God likes to use. After many years of singing instead of being built up I found myself discouraged. I began to think of myself as weak and foolish compared to some of people I knew. They talked a mighty good talk (and for some of them that is all it was), yet I struggled with my failings and inadequacies. But I what I didn't realise was that my weakness made me the perfect candidate for grace.

'God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble'. (1 Peter 5:5, NASB)

So if you're feeling a bit low about your status or abilities, please be encouraged. You're the perfect person for God to use and you have more to offer than you think. And, if you know someone that is disregarded by many, why not invite them for a cuppa and a chat? You never know, you might find out that there's a lot more to them than you think.

I’m off to have some tea…a cup of humility with a heapedspoonful of love. Anyone care to joinme?

I wonder if Asda sells Mauby? Cee xx

Troot!

2011-09-11T23:00:00.000+01:00

Troot! – The C. U. D. D.

‘An open and honest confession and acknowledgement, recognising what God has done for us.’

When I was a child sat in church, we would wait for the moment that Sister G, would shout out the infamous words ‘Troot!’ (Truth). Some of the congregation would shake their head in dismay (and disgust); others would shout an ‘Amen’, and all us children would smile. Some would giggle, and others imitate the wild exclamations of praise of our elders. As a child I couldn’t understand why Sister G was so loud, and wanted her to just simmer down so that we could all enjoy a quiet service. But at the time, there was something that I did not understand – the cost of her ‘Troot!’

Sister G spent each week in a loveless household. She was married to a harsh, bitter and sometimes violent unbeliever who didn’t allow her to declare her faith and praise freely in her home, so instead she waited until she got to the House of God – that is Church.

There is a famous song by CeCe Winans about a type of worship that is often misunderstood or mocked. The song is called ‘Alabaster Box’ and one of the lines says, ‘You don’t know the cost of my praise.’

‘…a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. ’ Matthew 26:7-10

The disciples were indignant as they didn’t understand the praise this woman gave to Jesus. Imagine spending a year’s salary on something and then pouring it out on their feet? Utter madness, yes, but pure unadulterated praise. This woman knew the value of the love she had received from Jesus, and worshipped him in the only way she knew how.

As a child, I didn’t understand the cost of Sister G’s praise, but I do now.

Now that I have gone through intense trials and tribulations of my own, I understand her urge to shout. I recognise it as a raw but deeply honest expression of praise, which is all about the glory and truth that comes from knowing Jesus. It makes one feel ready to burst with joy.

I find that this kind of praise is peculiar to my culture and heritage, although I acknowledge that people from all nations may praise in this way. I think it stems from an inherent belief in the power of redemption, from slavery times. The slaves who were bound found their only true freedom was when they were allowed to go to their services, or sing songs in the fields as they worked. They sang of freedom and of truth, and we, rarely remembering the origin, still sing today many of their songs as spirituals.

Like Sister G it now takes a lot for me to go to church. My physical limitations mean that I can rarely enjoy a service without pain. So, when I get there I make no apologies if I’m seen getting ‘ma freak on’. Now, as did my ancestors, I shout out my own ‘Gloraaaaay!’ and ‘Troot!’, as I can now walk in spite of the illness that had me enslaved to my bed.

‘Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.’ Colossians 3:11

Through Christ I have been set free from sin, negative thinking, (and positive confession!). I have been set free even though each week still has its own battles and temptations. As a Gospel singer it would be hypocritical of me if I only confined my expression of worship to the platform. People used to talk about how excited I got whilst on stage, but if I’m only going to do it in concerts then I am merely performing and not praising.

The other day I was listening to a podcasted sermon about God’s amazing grace and I heard something that resonated deep in my soul. I found that there was only one way I could express the way I felt – the way my heritage and history dictates.

I shouted TROOT!

Just as with the woman with the alabaster box, we don’t know what it costs others to pour out their adoration on Jesus. The old-time people in my old church would shout out ‘a praise’ and today we…well in our stage managed arenas there sometimes isn’t much room for a good ole’ fashioned gospel ‘Gloraaaay’.

We might not understand the way others worship, and even I sometimes switch off when I hear a certain type of Christian music, yet I don’t laugh or mock it. I smile, knowing that they are pouring out their own Alabaster box of praise in their own way.

So once again, along with the Sister G’s of this world, I’m gonna do it back-home style!

TROOT!

Still praisin.’ Cee xx

I'm a Diva!

2011-09-04T23:00:00.001+01:00

I’m a D.I.V.A. – The C.U.D.D.

‘D.I.V.A. – Divinely Inspired Valued & Adored’

Although I had been singing for many years at churches andconferences across the country it wasn’t until I released my first ever full CDalbum that this title was first bestowed upon me. One of the reviews of my album called me the‘Midlands Diva’ and I must admit to at first being somewhat perturbed by thisname.

Whenever the term was used in my circles it was always usedto describe a singer (male or female!) who had what I would call ‘DivaStrops.’ I mention no names here but Ihave seen many a strop in my time, and have partaken in a few, but I wouldnever have attributed the title Diva to myself, even if others might! But when I saw this review I knew that thewriter had meant the word in its original sense:

‘A diva (English pronunciation: /ˈdiːvə/, Italian: [ˈdiːva])is a celebrated female singer. The term is used to describe a woman ofoutstanding talent in the world of opera, and, by extension, in theatre, cinemaand popular music.’

Now I’d love to be a celebrated female singer of outstandingtalent, and in the past that is all I ever wanted to be. But some years ago I found out that in churchothers had started calling me the name diva in its negative context. Although it hurt, it was a valuable lesson inlabels and titles which God continued to teach me in the years to come.

For five years I dropped out of the music circuit andscene. For five long years I battledwith illness, depression, suffered bereavements, had operations and nearly lostevery friend I thought I had ever had. Icould not sing, and could not play the diva in any respect of the word. I felt useless as I could not do the onething I thought I was talented at. But sometimesGod has to allow you to be taken out of your comfort zone so that you can seethe horizon clearly before you. My viewon myself had become so confined to my one talent that I limited God in what Hewanted to do in me and through me.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? Iam making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19

In Isaiah 43 it recalls how Israelremembered the great things that God had done in parting the Red Sea and takingthem out of Egypt. But as good as that was God told them that Hewas doing something new. I had the sameexperience. It was when I was in the wildernessof the last five years and in the wasteland of my grief that He did a newthing. He made a way and put streams ofjoy in my life making the last five years the most productive.

‘Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, becausewe know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; andcharacter, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has beenpoured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.’ Romans 5:3-5

Suffering – perseverance – character – hope!

My whole life has contained a lot of suffering. But, it has indeed produced these four things. As I face yet more surgery for tumours, Ifind myself full of hope. I have learnedso much about myself that although I truly wish with all my heart that none ofthe terrible things we have endured happened – I can honestly say I’m so gladthat God works all things together for good for those who love Him. (Romans8:28)

In the trying times, the things that I had as hobbies becamemy abilities and key skills. And I learned that I am more than just asinger, developing other passions. Mostimportantly I found out who my true friends were. Now I can embrace the title Diva with a newslant on the word, from Cee’s own Urban Dictionary Definition. For in my years of hardship I was Divinely Inspired to write notjust songs, but books. I learned that Iwas Valued by God asHe sent people to help and encourage me and my family. I saw how Adored I was by Him every time I faced anotheroperation or procedure, and He calmed my fears and surrounded me with His lovedaily.

Yes, I am a DIVA.

I’mnot one in the modern day context of the word – a spoilt ‘Miss Piggy’ (from theMuppets) type performer, demanding ridiculous things in their dressingrooms. (Although I might ask for aJuicer when I next fill out a Rider!) Imight not even be a diva in the official explanation of it as I’m sure I don’thave outstanding talent, but just enough to get by. But I am a DIVA according to The C.U.D.D, andthat’ll do me. These days I don’t letothers define me by names or opinions they had of me from years ago. I define myself according to the Word of God.

Don’t let others label you by how you acted or wereperceived to be in the past. But ifthey do, you can now take whatever title they’ve given and rename yourself inthe image of God. His names for you arefar better than what anyone else could call you.

I wrote a poem which is in my book and I think it sums upthis blog:

Call Me Loved

Call me mother, callme friend

Call me sister, forthat is who I am

Call me daughter,call me wife, call me loved;

Not just what youlike.

What do I hear yousay? She is one who is lame

Do you call me names,my soul and mind profane?

Do you spitefully usethe label I’ve been given?

And talk about me, aslave that’s driven

By words, by hate, byfear, by loathing

- Of self; of him; ofher?

But...

...you can call memother, you can call me friend

Call me sister forthat is who I am

Call me Hisdaughter. Call me his wife.

Call me Loved of God- for I have LIFE!

Diva is off to get her hair done! Cee xxx

Buggin'

2011-08-28T23:00:00.000+01:00

Buggin’ - The C.U.D.D

‘A persistent pursuit of the things a child wants, bothering the parent to distraction and eventual concession.’

I am happy to say that I am a Bugaboo. I’m a persistent little pest of a daughter who talks to her Father ‘buggin’ Him about the gifts He has for me. But I haven’t always been this way.

I used to be the type of person who asked for something once or twice and then gave up. Bad experiences and heartache with people had taught me that it was useless to keep trying because failure would surely follow. So I would give up. However, that’s all changed; I’ve changed and I owe it all to a lesson I learned from my son.

My boy is football crazy. He plays in three different teams, and is a star player. In his spare time he plays football, and when he is relaxing… guess what? Yes, he reads about football and even his electronic games are mostly footy related. He is truly obsessed.

One day when he asked me to buy him yet another footy magazine, I made up my mind that I wouldn’t as he had too many already – literally hundreds. He quietly sulked for a millisecond, but then went out to play as usual, and I thought he had forgotten all about it. But the next day he asked again whilst out shopping.

‘Mom, y’know you said I couldn’t have a magazine…’ (There was a HUGE pregnant pause) ‘Well, please can I?’

I laughed at his determination, but I was equally determined to stick to my resolve and so said no, and he happily went on his way with me around the shops. A few minutes later my daughter dropped a Battenberg cake into the shopping trolley and smiled sweetly and asked if she could have it. I nodded and my footy mad boy immediately seized the opportunity.

‘Mom, if she’s having treats, can I have one?’

‘Of course,’ I replied. He was about to run straight to the magazine rack when I quickly added, ‘but not a magazine!’

The customary ‘Awww!’ followed but he accepted his fate and bought himself something else instead. I thought the matter was over and we went home. I hoped he wasn’t too upset with me, but I was determined to teach him a lesson about not having everything he wanted. He didn’t seem too bothered and went to bed his normal chirpy self.

The next day when I got up my son fluttered those big eyes and gave me my morning hug.

‘I love you Mom,’ he said sweetly.

‘I love you too.’ I said.

Even when I dropped him off to school he was chatting away quite merrily and made no mention of the desired magazine. But when I picked him up at the school gates at the end of the day he was a little subdued. He told me of his day and at the end of a very long and interesting conversation on the various comedic and sometimes unfair (to him) sayings of his teachers he turned to me and sighed.

‘Mo-om, I know you probably don’t want me to mention it again,’ (there was another mammoth pause with a cute grin attached), ‘but I’d really like the Match magazine this week. Please can I have it?’

I wanted to say, ‘Quit buggin’ me’; I wanted to tell him not to mention it again, but as I looked into the eyes of my baby boy and saw how desperately he wanted his magazine, my heart melted. Even though I thought he had enough magazines to last a lifetime, something inside me just couldn’t say no to my adorable son. Finally, I said yes and my boy punched his hands in the air as if he had scored the winning goal in the Premiership final. Then he hugged me and we got out of the car and went to buy the precious magazine.

At that moment I learned a valuable lesson, for in my act of concession God spoke to me about His Fatherly love in such a powerful way. My son got what he wanted, not because he’s my son, or because I love him - he knew that already. He got what he wanted because he was persistent.

He was buggin’.

Through my own little boy’s persistence I learned I had to be the same. I went home and re-read the scripture about the persistent widow (Luke 18:1-8). It was a lesson in prayer. The parable is about a woman who was dealing with an unfair and unjust judge. She got what she wanted in the end because she kept buggin’ the man. Yet God is not a man who is unfair or unjust. He is our Father.

‘Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!’ (Matthew 7:9-11 NASB)

Don’t let the disappointments of the past stop you from asking. It can be hard, and is, and sometimes I have to wait for the things I ask for. Sometimes, I even ask for the wrong thing (such as revenge on the ignoramus who undercut me on the motorway - you know who you are!).

‘And when you ask, you do not receive it, because your motives are bad; you ask for things to use for your own pleasures.’ (James 4:3 Good News Translation)

I still get it wrong, but I try to ask for the good things, or I should say the ‘God things’. Either way I’ll be a buggin’ until that gift comes.

Don’t quit praying.

Even when it seems the answer is not coming, don’t quit. When you pray for the salvation of your family, keep going. When, like me, you pray for complete healing from sickness even though you seem to be getting worse not better; keep buggin’. I know I will be healed. Why? Because it’s one of the good gifts that is mine through Jesus Christ.

So whatever it is you’ve asked for, don’t stop buggin’ your Father. It’s on its way. It’s yours.

Be like my boy and be a bugaboo.

Buggin’ and a huggin’, Cee xx

Che-eeeee-se!

2011-08-22T07:00:00.003+01:00

Che-eeeee-se! – The C.U.D.D.

'An expression of delight, commonly used by the animated character Wallace, of Wallace and Gromit fame.’

Everybody has something that makes them salivate at the thought of eating. Mine used to be chocolate, but ever since being diagnosed with Vestibular Neuronitis, I discovered that my delight in the comfort eaters’ companion had to end, as it exacerbated my condition.

I think fondly back to the days when the joy of getting a box of chocolates excited and enthralled my senses. My favourites were the Thornton’s Continental range. I’d savour every moment as I opened the box; the smell of the chocolate would hit me. Taking a deep breath, I would move the box around like a wine connoisseur in order to inhale in the various fragrances. Then I’d take out the description card (not that I needed it, as I knew the ones I really wanted), and pick through the ones that I would have to order the family, on pain of death, not to eat. They were mine!

They could have the orange ones, the strawberry (which I am allergic to), and especially the marzipan, yuk. But the hazelnut pralines, oh, the hazelnut pralines, they were mine. Mine I tell ya! The first bite was always the best, and I would slowly crack open the crispy outer shell, loving it when the soft centre melted in my mouth. Mmm. But, alas, those days are no more. The very taste of chocolate causes nausea and upon eating it, I lose all sense of balance and suffer migraines.

Yet I find that when I watch Wallace or even Homer Simpson, I am strangely drawn to these fictional characters. How many of us drool at the thought of a donut, as does Homer, or clench our hands and wave gleefully at the thought of ‘a nice bit of Wensleydale,’ like Wallace? Maybe we wouldn’t do this outwardly, but inwardly, deep inside, there is something there that resonates with us about desire and delight.

I recently found myself doing this when speaking to someone about… no, wait for it, not chocolate, but God! And I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. Wait, I’ll explain.

I met an old friend whom I hadn’t seen for four years, and when updating her on what had happened in my life, including bereavements and illness, I found myself doing my Wallace impression when talking about what God had done for me. It sounds crazy, I know, but hear me out – it finally dawned on me what the Bible means when it says:

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.
(Psalm 34:8)

God had indeed been my refuge in all the hardships I’d faced, and when telling my friend about them I realised that I was, and felt, truly blessed. His love was so good that I could literally taste it. Better than the best Crispy Crème donuts, the creamiest Stilton cheese, and even the finest Belgian chocolate. I’m excited and delighted in the thought of God’s love for me. I’m a songwriter and have expressed (I hope eloquently) my feelings about God in many songs and albums, yet that day the best way I could describe how I felt about Him was:

‘Ch-eeeee-se!’ (With my hands waving gleefully!)

I felt like Wallace and was as excited as a child at Christmas. Believe me, I meant no disrespect to my Heavenly Father, and I know He heard my heart. My friend giggled as she understood my excitement too, and knew the feeling. God is GOOD.

When I open up my Bible it is like getting an exquisite box of chocolates, and each word assaults my senses like fine wine. I absorb the love within its pages and feed on the Word of God, tasting His goodness. It excites and delights me that He loves me, and the same God loves you too.

So will you join me today in a wine tasting session? Wine from the True Vine (John 15:1) which makes me say 'God is ‘Goooo-oooo-ooood!’

Mmm, sure tastes good to me! Cee xx

Crinkles

2011-08-15T07:00:00.000+01:00

Crinkles – The C.U.D.D.

‘Deep Christian wrinkles that capture more salt and add more flavour’

I confess to being a Crinkles– A Christian with wrinkles.

I have ever deepening wrinkles around my eyes that I used to call laughter lines, but are now just lines. The signs of old age are creeping up on me, and I use all measures, tactics and creams in order to keep them at bay. As the grey hairs appear, the dye bottle comes out; as the lines around my face increase the ‘miracle, youth, regenerating’ night creams clutter my dresser. These outward signs display the life that I have led.

The Bible speaks of grey hairs as a sign of wisdom (Proverbs 16:31). Does that mean I shouldn’t reach for the dye bottle? Heck, no! But what the Proverb shows is that with each year of life and experience, wisdom is gained. It is not condemning the dye bottle, but promoting the wealth of knowledge that age brings. As I was thinking about Crinkles I was reminded of crisps (that’s my kind of lateral thinking for you!)

My favourite crisps are Sea salt and Malt Vinegar Crinkle Cut Crisps. Now, the brand I buy do a straight cut range with the same flavouring, but it just doesn’t taste the same.

It doesn’t have as much flavour.

The reason I prefer the Crinkle Cut is because the grooves capture more of the seasoning and salt. With each Crinkle there is more flavour, and that is the key difference. With each wrinkle, (each experience, each problem, each battle), more ‘flava’ is applied into our lives by the love and Word of God.

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out ...” (Matt. 5:13)

I’ve written a book about my life which will be published next year. In it I struggled when I talked about my secret battle with the eating disorder, Bulimia. I didn’t like to talk about the grooves and deep wrinkles that occurred in my walk. These wrinkles represented my weaknesses and I was ashamed of my slip-ups. Yet these ‘slip-ups’ are the very things that I have learned from. They have helped me to capture more salt and understanding of the love of God.

They are the deep grooves that give me flava, and are the ‘grey hairs’ that crown my head, literally and metaphorically speaking. They display the love of God in all its fullness, as He loved me in spite of myself. They show how He never left me and was with me at all times, even when I was wrong, blind and foolish. He loved me enough to stick with me and get me back to right thinking. He never let me go:

‘And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them.’ (Isaiah 42:16)

So the next time you look in the mirror and see the lines that the celebrities Botox away; and the next time you apply the night cream that you hope smoothes out the creases that were caused by worry or failings, remember this:

With each worry there was an experience,

And with each experience there was a lesson.

With each lesson, there can be a deeper understanding of God’s love for you;

His forgiveness, His compassion and His Fatherhood.

You have a lot to offer in your experiences and you can help someone else as they go through their wrinkly times.

In these dark times of social disturbance and troubles you and I can be the salt that never loses its saltiness.

From one salty, tasty, crinkly, wrinkly to another – we can make a difference!

Full of flava, Cee xx

Waterfallin'

2011-08-08T12:00:00.000+01:00

Waterfallin’ – The C.U.D.D.

‘A word used to display deep sorrow, describing a time when the tears a person cries seem to be the only way they can express their grief and loss.’

I have been Waterfallin’ about a billion times in the past few years. Well, I exaggerate, but you know what I mean. I first coined this phrase to describe my tears in a song I wrote for my latest album. When my brother and nephew passed away, these separate bereavements were both unexpected and traumatic, and I cried incessantly – I just couldn’t stop the Waterfallin’.

No matter how much I chastised myself over my lack of ‘stiff upper lip,’ or tried to pull myself together, I simply fell apart in my grief. The tears did stop falling, but in their own time. It just took time. However, recently, when I heard of someone else’s bereavement, once again my tears fell, and I was reminded of my own Waterfallin’ years of sadness. I felt for my friend deeply.

Although I could partly understand the pain my friend was feeling, I didn’t know their grief. That is as personal and unique as we all are. But I knew my grief. I understood the loss, the separation, the ‘miss you like crazy’ moments that happen on special occasions. Remembering their birthday, or that they won’t be there for yours. Losing anyone is heart-breaking whether we are apparently close to them or not. Sometimes it’s not the loss of closeness of the relationship that causes us to cry, but that the person was part of the fabric of our existence. They could have been part of our childhood, a fond memory, or from a past season of closeness. In any of these we can grieve deeply.

When my tears fell again for my friend’s loss, I remembered what others had done for me, and it made me determined to do the same. When I was grieving some prayed, sent cards, called or emailed. Some sat, and some listened, made a cup of tea, and held a hand, or just smiled. The tiniest of actions meant the world to me and I appreciated them all.

It can be really difficult to reach out to those who are grieving. I often find myself at a loss of what to say. Recently, when out for a walk, my husband and I met someone we knew who deliberately tried not to make eye contact with us. They hadn’t been in touch during our bereavement and obviously felt uncomfortable about approaching us. We were not hurt by this, but actually understood their hesitance, as it is hard. We don’t know what to say about our loss either!

But I have found out that we don’t always have to have the right words. Sometimes a smile, an acknowledgement, a hand to hold, is all that is needed to help the grieving soul. So my encouragement to you today is…

Let the tears flow.

God sees each drop as a cry to His heart, and He will comfort you when no one else can. That is what I learned from the cascading water on my cheeks. There was someone else who knew grief and wrote about his troubles with great eloquence. He was refreshingly modern and open displaying his faults and sins, his agonies and ecstasies – he was the Psalmist:

‘Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble;

My eyes waste away with grief,

Yes, my soul and my body!

For my life is spent with grief,

And years with sighing;

My strength fails because of my iniquity,

And my bones waste away.’ (Psalm 31:9-10)

Whenever he was down (or happy) he seemed to write a song about it, and we are privileged to be able to read the cries of his heart in the Bible. Thousands of years ago grief overwhelmed a lowly shepherd who became a sovereign King. The same grief overwhelms us today. But just as in those times the Psalmist called on his One True Friend, that is what I did in my grief, and you can do the same also.

‘Why are you cast down, O my soul?

And why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God;

For I shall yet praise Him,

The help of my countenance and my God.’ (Psalm 43:5)

Hope in God.

When the tears fall… hope in God.
When the pain kills… hope in God.
When the heart breaks… hope in God.

In the words of a song that ‘someone’ wrote,

‘I cannot heal a broken heart, but I know God Can.’

Let the tears flow, God will catch them.

Still waterfallin’, Cee xx

Weight-watchers!

2011-08-01T12:00:00.005+01:00

Weight-watchers (verb: weight-watching) – The C.U.D.D.

‘The hobby of a certain group of people who insist on greeting others by pointing out (usually quite loudly) the amount of weight the person they are greeting has lost or gained.’

I am on the cusp of 40 and it dawned on me many years ago that I could not spend the next forty years (God willing), as I have spent the past thirty or so – that is, worrying about my weight.

As a former yo-yo dieter I finally decided to accept myself and my weight as me, like it or lump it (and there were a lot of lumps to like!). In the last few years I’ve come to discover that there are much more important things to think about. Yet, although I came to this healthy and liberating decision, it seemed that others did not want to embrace my freedom with equal enthusiasm.

From my own definition above you can tell that the term ‘weight-watching’ is a tongue in cheek jab at a certain type of person, whose habit is the unfortunate practice of declaring on greeting how someone looks. (Note I didn’t say how ‘well’ someone looks).

I cannot recall how many times I have walked into church and had someone comment on my size – my increase or decrease. When it was decreasing, it was sometimes a pleasure to hear compliments, but when my weight was increasing… well let me give a few examples:

‘What a way yuh put on weight!’

‘I’m so glad you’ve put back on the weight, you looked too skinny before and it didn’t suit you.’

‘Mmm, you’ve lost weight, you’re boobs are smaller.’

I kid you not people, I kid you not. These personal remarks have been the bane of my Christian church life and beyond. I have even had the odd ‘fat’ joke told to me on occasion, and if I got hurt or offended I’ve been accused of being too sensitive, or that I couldn’t take a joke.

These, my dear friends, are the weight-watchers of our lives. They seek us out on a Sunday morning when we think we look great and our confidence abounds. We are ready for a time of fellowship and worship, but find that we are met at the door with our old nemesis of having our former, (or current), poor self-image confirmed in the words of a relative stranger.

Weight-watchers – the eponymous prophets or prophetesses of calorific doom!

Since my liberation from the dreaded scales, I am comforted in the knowledge that one of these blessed people will invariably declare what the scales no longer utter… my weight.

But all is not lost. Why? Because my focus is not on myself anymore, and when I see what really matters, the words of others literally bounce off me! (Please no 'fat' jokes here!) Believe me, I still hear them, but I no longer feel their effect. No tears fall, and no hurt or offence is taken because I know this one thing:

"I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works ;

that I know very well"(Psalm 139:14)

Each of us are a wonderful workmanship of the Living God, crafted, formed and loved by Him and loved deeply. In this knowledge I find I’m now watching the weight of my soul, my heart, my mind. And by remembering that God made me, I can truly say that I’m gorgeous in Him, be that size 10 or size 20. Psalm 139 is there so that we who are naturally curvaceous are no longer burdened by the words or thoughts of others. Be encouraged and see the true 'weight' of love that God has placed inside all of us for we are wonderfully made, all shapes and sizes.

Oh, and for the weight-watchers out there I have one small request. Next time you see me please can you try to greet the person in Psalm 139 instead of my physical attributes? You might find that she's a really nice person to get to know.

Until the next ‘meeting’… Cee xx

Lawlovin'

2011-07-27T12:03:00.001+01:00

‘Lawlovin’- The C.U.D.D.

‘The practice of erroneously demonstrating God’s love through the rigid application of the law, but inadvertently in the process near destroying whatever love remains in all parties concerned.’

How do I recognise the practice of Lawlovin’ and how do I stop myself from perpetrating this heinous crime? The first thing I had to do was to recognise is the famous sentence…

‘I just need to tell you this in love.’

It dawned on me a few years ago that if I had to add this cynical prelude to a difficult conversation then maybe the rest of my actions were without love. It made me think hard because as a Christian everything I do should be ‘in love’ so why did I need to say so first?

Everything that Jesus did and said was borne out of His love for us. His very presence on the earth showed that ‘for God so loved the world that He gave His only Son’ (John 3:16) and God demonstrated His love for us while we were still sinners (Rom. 5:8). He did not have to add a clause to his speeches to tell us something painful or even truthful. In Him the truth didn’t hurt – it healed.

Look at the woman at the well in John 4. He could have said,

‘Look, I need to tell you this in love.

You’ve had x amount of husbands and your living with someone now.

Your life’s a mess and you need to sort it.’

Thankfully He didn’t.

What He did do was stand next to her when she was ostracised by the rest of society.

What He did do was speak to her when no one else would.

What He did do was love her and offer her Living Water to refresh her soul.

He loved her back to life and right thinking.

Lawlovin’ has to say that it speaks in love because deep down we all know that it is not. We do know that what we say will hurt and possibly offend. We also know that we will probably think that the person is offended because they lack spiritual maturity. Lawlovin’ lacks compassion.

The woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11) and was about to be stoned was saved by the immortal words…

‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’

Jesus could have cast the stone. He was the only one with the right to yet He did not. Instead he made the others look at themselves. (I daren’t hasten to add that the man who was adulterous was no where to be seen - I don’t even have time to go into that one!) I ask myself do I really want to be one of those who stood on the side lines dishing out the law and forgetting that there’s a person who needs love and compassion in order to get them back on track…

‘while we were sinners’ He came and died.

I am far from perfect, in fact, the character imperfections I have glare at me as in the past few years I have dealt with irritating colleagues, abusive neighbours, insensitive ‘friends’ and dare I say even inconsiderate Christians. But how I respond is the true issue when dealing with casting stones.

God didn’t wait for me to get perfect before He came – that would have been the law. He knew I couldn’t ‘get perfect’ so He came for me anyway. Me – the one with the bad temper and stubborn attitude; me – the one who has messed up countless times and He still forgave. He had the right to cast the stone at me many a time for my bad behaviour, but He didn’t. Instead He loved me all the way to the cross and took my place.

So I’ve decided to quit lawlovin’ and try just lovin’… and you know what? It really does work.

Lovin’ ya… Cee xx

Smotherhood's Calling!

2011-07-22T10:25:00.002+01:00

Smotherhood - Cee's own Urban Dictionary Definition

"A form of mothering that contains copious amounts of love interspersed with moments of insane over-protectionism bordering on suffocation of the child being protected."(Yes, I made that up! Good innit?)

Well what is Smotherhood? Am I guilty of it? How do I prevent myself from doing it? These are the questions that came to my mind when thinking of my own children. I wish I could claim the title for my first blog as my own invention, but the term came from someone else and it amused me so much it became my inspiration.

We have a matriarchal family culture within the Black community which is one that many people of Afro-Caribbean descent will understand. My husband being German, is from a more patriarchal society and in later blogs I might mention some of the humorous pitfalls that our two backgrounds/families had to encounter when merging. Families come in all shapes and sizes but I have to say that the people I most admire are the single parents - especially the mothers. (I know that there are fathers too but this time I just want to talk about mothers. Men - I'll big ya up later!)

Single-parent mothers often bring up children with little or no father's presence. I have been blessed with a husband who is a very real and positive force in the lives of our children and know the good stuff that a good man can bring, yet, I also know the other side as the product of a single-parent family. These mother's are walking miracles to be honoured and cherished, and I urge you to encourage one of them today as they are truly superwomen, but let's get back to Smotherhood.

Whether we are parenting as part of a couple or on our own, Smotherhood is real. I find it is a clear and present danger that seeks to hunt me down and assassinate me. It turns the once sane mother who wanted her children to be independent into someone who incessantly calls, texts, and pesters her babies. It causes me to not want to let go. As my son leaves junior school to embark on his journey into senior/high school I stand at the gates eagerly waiting for the little baby to run out and give me my daily hug. But what greets me is a boy nearly as tall as myself, with an ever deepening voice, who nonchalantly nods and acknowledges my existence. He sees my eyes plea for a kiss and a cuddle but all I get is a little peck on the cheek. When we get in the car I am informed about the practice of 'begging attention' and realise that surreptitiously he is referring to me!

He is growing up.

Yet Smotherhood beckons me, I hear her call and I want to follow. I want to continue to make his drinks even though he can well and truly get them for himself. I want to feed him up 'til he's so full 'im belly-ache! I want to know where he is at all times when out playing and woe betide anybody who 'badda' (bother) my baby. But he is no longer a baby.

He is growing up.

Letting go is one of the hardest things we mothers have to do especially in today's society with the very real dangers that face our kids. I'm reminded of Proverbs 22:6 - 'Train a child up in the way he should go and in the end he will not depart from it.'

The faith that I have tried to instill in my own children since birth is the very faith that will keep them, even if they go astray for a while. I realise that just like the Prodigal Son, in the end the wayward child will come home as I have done my job, and God will do His. My job is for the first 18 years and then they are an adult and I have to trust that I have done a good job and that they will come right in the end. It's hard but I'm going to try.

So as far as I can see I have a few more years to get some good training in my children before they fly the nest. Until then I write my own Proverbs to my son:

Smotherhood calls,

She beckons your mother in the night and sets worries on her head.

But your mother will not succumb to her temptations,

She will not smother and nag you.

God will watch over her and you.

She should not fuss or stress,

He has assured her that He has your life in His hands,

And God will be your guide.

Smothering off for now.... Cee xxx