 As part of my job, I help at Toddler Group every week; leading the crafts, setting up, putting away, washing up little cups and bowls. Last week, I was handing out juice and water to the children, when a mother picked up her crying son. Just as many children play whilst their parents are a couple of steps away, he had been playing with a toy piano, only to looked up to see that his mum had moved - only a few steps, but nonetheless, gone from his sight. Seeing he was crying, she picked him up, and held him close. She said, "you thought I had gone?" and continued to repeat, "I didn't leave you. I'd never leave you. I love you". Those words instantly reminded me of God.  "I didn't leave you. I'd never leave you. I love you" Sometimes we have a really close relationship with our Father. We live life like the children sat on their parent's lap whilst working on a craft together at Toddler group. Other times, God sends us out to do something, but we know He's still near. It's like when the children are pretend-hoovering the room, but their parent is watching from the other side of the room. The child feels safe and secure knowing their parent is close, and they're confident that they can hoover this room. They know that when snack time comes, or if they need help before that, then their parent will be close again. But there's the third situation when we've gone to do something on our own, and we turn around and we can't see God anymore. We panic as we feel abandoned and lost. Sometimes it's not until God picks us up and says, "you thought I had gone? I didn't leave you. I'd never leave you. I love you" that we feel safe again. The words below are the lyrics to Hillsong's 'Never Alone'. I hope they bring light to you, I hope they speak truth over the lies that you're alone. In the dark You lift my eyes
For this journey You designed You're likening me Let my heart align with You In Your Word and in Your Truth Your voice calling me Faith in the unseen Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone That my word may fall in faith You alone are sovereign still Come stand in my trust On the Earth Your kingdom bring All creation brings You praise Jesus You are Life Your name lifted high Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone My soul revived in your broken hands Gracious blood hold my sin and shame Now forever until the end Oh, You reign Oh, You reign My soul revived in your broken hands Gracious blood hold my sin and shame Now forever until the end Oh, You reign Oh, You reign Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone Oh You reign in my soul Oh You reign in my soul I will never be alone I will never be alone
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 I went to a barbecue this week with friends. It rained, of course it did, it’s British summer time, but that didn’t stop us from having a really great time. After we had all eaten, there was a small huddle of friends sat by the chiminea, toasting marshmallows. There was a bigger huddle around a small table, laughing as they played Bananagrams. Not taking part in either of the huddles, I stood to take it all in, and smiled. By then end of the evening, there were twelve of us around a table that seats six, all playing Bananagrams, laughing, joking and definitely not cheating… The evening had a community-feel to it, and I felt so content. It got me thinking about contentment, relationship and community. To be content has been my prayer recently. I’m not asking to be joyful everyday, but to be content with what I have, with where I am, and when the rain comes - literally and metaphorically. I think I’m most content when I have company, when I’m in community. I’m beginning to learn more and more that I’m such a relational person, I’m an extroverted-introvert. Although my ‘batteries are recharged’ by spending a couple of hours on my own, gathering my thoughts and resting, I’d rather be spending all the other hours with people. I don’t mind if we go out and do something, or we just ‘do life’ together, but I’m too relational to spend too much time alone. About a month ago, I went to a colleague/friend’s house because I needed help with preparations for a Youth weekend away in the Summer. I ended up staying for the whole morning, and for lunch too - not working, but just chatting and 'being'. It was half-term, and it was one of the best days of the break. We didn’t really do anything, but just doing life another person brings me joy. I think that’s the way that God made us to be: relational. We are relational beings because we are made in His image and He is relational. A perfect example of this is the trinity - the three persons of the trinity live in perfect relationship with one another. God said it Himself, “it is not good for man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18). We often read this when preaching about singleness and marriage, but I think it’s just as an important message when it comes to community with one another. It is not good for us to be alone. We were made to be in relationship with one another. So let’s do it more often! It’s a denominational stereotypical joke that Baptists are good at ‘Bring and Shares’. The Church I worship and work at regularly hold Bring and Share lunches, and there’s always plenty of food! I like to think that it’s not just food we’re bringing and sharing, it’s ourselves. It’s our heaviness and our joy. If you’ve read my blog post ‘Settled’, you’ll know that it wasn’t easy for me to find my feet. But I never feel as at home and part of a community, part of a family, more than when we all sit around tables to eat lunch with one another.  Not only are we made to be in relationship with one another, but we were made to be in relationship with God. I find that truth mind-blowing. The God of all creation wants a relationship with me, with you. He created me to have relationship, and then sin entered the world and it all went wrong, they sinned and sinned and then sinned some/a lot more (summarising the Old Testament here a little), and so God gave us His only son, the one He had relationship with and loved, to die for us so that we’d always be in relationship. God doesn’t need us. He has no ‘needs’. He’s the God that can do anything; the things we think aren’t possible, and the things we haven’t even thought of yet. He doesn’t need us, but he wants us. He wants relationship with you. The God of all creation wants you.
 Mondays' are hopeful days. They're fresh starts. You can let go of the heaviness of the week before, breathe, and step forward into a new week of possibilities. I'm learning that it doesn't have to be a new week, a new academic year or a new calendar year to have a fresh start. I'm learning that if I've had a couple of bad days, I don't have to keep walking in darkness, waiting for the best time to have a fresh start. When everything is a bit darker, a bit heavier and takes more effort, when one thing goes wrong after the other, when I'm alone, I'm learning to breathe. I'm learning to stop, breathe, ask for help, and take some time out to practice mindfulness, or to create something for me, or to just simply rehydrate or go for a walk. I'm learning. Last week, I waked around with a rain cloud over my head for a couple of days. I could tick off all my 'warning signs of a mental health flop'. Looking back now that the sun is shining, I wonder whether, if I took a few minutes out once I realised it was raining, just by taking some time to breathe, I could have blown the cloud away. Maybe not completely, but maybe enough to see a bit of sun again.
Who do you work for? I don't mean the company that you're employed by. I mean, what gets you up in the morning? Why do you carry on writing assignments even when it's too hard? What encourages you to work hard in your job, to carry on? This thought came to mind when I was going through my photo album on my phone to delete photos. I'm 'that person' that has thousands of photos on my phone, so it was time for a spring clean. After scrolling a while, I reached a photo of my Grandad, who passed away 6 years ago. He wrote sermons and a self-published book, and he went to Bible College. I began thinking, I don't carry on writing and go to Bible College because of him, to make him proud, because sadly he won't see any of it. But I'm encouraged by the thought that he'd be proud of me if he were here.  I'm a people-pleaser. I'm terrible at saying, "no". If someone can't do their week on the youth rota and they ask me, unless I have somewhere else I *have* to be, I can't say "no". My heart is warm when people say they're proud of me. My heart is warm when people compliment my work, say I've done a good job. Do I work for people to tell me they're proud? A couple of years ago, I was going through a difficult time in my head-space. I wanted to make everyone around me proud. But I tried so hard that it felt like I had put myself on a tightrope; carefully balancing, struggling to stay upright. If I fell, then I thought people around me wouldn't be proud, wouldn't be pleased, would be disappointed. Maybe the want of a promotion, money, success, leadership is what gets you up out of bed in the morning. Maybe that's what you work for. Maybe you work for the want to help people and make a difference. I'm reminded of Colossians 3:23-14, 23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, 24 since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. All the things I mentioned above aren't necessarily bad things to be working for, but it's so important that we first work for God. It's so important that in all we do, we're doing it for the glory of God. It's Him that we want to make pleased. It's Him that will provide the good things for us when we give it all to Him and trust.   When I was 13, I had block braces that gave me a lisp, it changed the shape of my face, and it was hard to eat. I hated it. People made fun of the way I looked and the way I spoke, and it felt like it would last forever. It was temporary. I don't really remember that anymore. I remember having them, but I can't remember the exact time someone laughed at me, I can't remember the words I couldn't say, I can't remember changing the foods I ate. It was temporary. When I was 16 I did my GCSEs. The want to make myself and others proud and the fear of failure was overwhelming. It was temporary. That August I was awarded both an A*, being the top of my class, as well as 2 E's, being towards the bottom of my class. When I was 18 I did my A-Levels. Again, overwhelming but temporary. I cried so much on the day I found out I had got an E and a U. I shut myself away in my room for about 12 hours, and I cried and I cried. 'All that work for nothing', I thought. The university I applied for aren't going to want me, my colleagues are going to think I'm stupid. I went to a summer camp with young people the following week, and was in charge of catering. Every little mistake I made in the kitchen reminded me of my failure in education. It's silly, I know, but when I couldn't work out how to drain the massive pan of rice, I couldn't help but think anyone else could do the job better. It was temporary; it only lasted 5 days, and the stresses in the kitchen aren't what I most remember of the week. I think back to all the darker days from the last year or so and realise the single thing they have in common; it's all temporary. Whether it was feeling like I didn't fit, fear of the future, being self-critical, being anxious about something new, days where nothing went right. It's not like that now. The feelings were temporary. Sure, they pop up again, sometimes it's worse than others days, but then it's temporary again. Take heart. The worries, stress, wobbles, dark days, pressures are all temporary. Equally, the good times can be temporary too. The sunny days out with friends and family. Rest. The tight hugs from those you love. Holidays. Belly-laughs. Adventure. All temporary. So breath. Take notice. Take it in. Remember it by taking a photo, drawing it, or writing it down. Return to it when things are dark again. Return to it and remember that it's temporary. And when you can't return to that, take heart in the truths of the Bible that aren't temporary. - Be still and know that I am God. God is not temporary. (Psalm 46:10) - "I know the plans I have for you." His plans for you are not temporary. (Jeremiah 29:11) - "My grace is sufficient for you." His grace is not temporary (2 Corinthians 12:9) - "See what great love the father has lavished on us". His love is not temporary. (1 John 3:1) - "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you". His peace is not temporary. (John 14:27) - "The Lord you God will be with you where ever you go". His presence is not temporary. (Joshua 1:9) "the grass withers and the flowers fade but the word of the Lord stands forever" - Isaiah 40:8
 In church, we often refer to ‘mountain top moments’ and ‘being in the valley’. If you’re not familiar with this language, being on the mountain top means to be having a really good experience. Perhaps you’re at a summer conference; the sun is shining, the worship is great, you feel the Holy Spirit in every seminar, you have a notebook full of notes from the talk, you’ve bought a load of books that you’re so excited to read, you think, “ah, this is so much better than what’s at home”. You’re having a mountain top moment. Being in the valley is the opposite. You can still experience God in the valley, but everything is darker, heavier and harder. Perhaps everything is going wrong, one thing after another, and although you know God is there, you don’t understand what He’s doing and that’s painful. I think there’s a third ‘place’. I think this third place is one we’re most often at, but gets recognised and appreciated a lot less. This third place is ‘the path of the mundane’. It isn’t the spirit-filled youth event with lots of young people giving their lives to Jesus, but it’s also not when you’re running a youth event that has one problem after another, you’re burning out and can’t see God in the project anymore. The path isn’t always easy, sometimes it’s a bit rocky, a bit steep, sometimes there isn’t enough shade or it rains, but it’s fine. It’s the mundane. It’s the youth group that happens every week that you don’t see anything happening in. That’s not to say nothing is happening, or that it’s going badly, you’re just not seeing it. Or it’s the sermon you give, and you don’t get any response from it. Or it’s just your commute to work, your tidying, your preparing. I wanted to be a youth worker since I was fourteen years old. I remember the day that I voiced this, and class-mates telling me that it wasn’t a proper job. When I imagined being a youth worker, it included the big events, constant conversation with young people and constantly seeing growth and change. It included only mountain-top moments. I never imagined making 4 mugs of hot chocolate every Sunday evening, or sitting at my desk trying to work out how to print on labels for an entire hour, (and then still getting it wrong). I didn’t imagine finishing youth at 9:30pm and then packing away for a further 45 minutes. None of this stuff is bad or unenjoyable. Okay, maybe the label-printing-mishap was unenjoyable. But it's just the mundane. I didn’t imagine God being in my mundane, because I didn’t imagine having a mundane. There is so much beauty and so many blessings to be had on the path of the mundane, but it’s like we’re always focusing on the mountain top, desperate not to find ourselves in the valley, that we forget to appreciate the beauty and blessings. I challenge you to write down three mundane blessings per day for the next week. Found a bargain in wilko? Had lunch out with a friend? Made a nice dinner? Slept well? Checked everything off your to-do list? Had a couple of regulars at your youth group? Had a word that might have been from God? Shared a sermon, made a little mistake, but all-in-all, it went alright? Write it down, recognise it and be thankful. Imagine this: You’re walking along on a path. It looks a bit like this:  Above you is the mountain top experience.
Below you is the valley You’re walking along but your hands are covering your eyes so that you can't see. Little do you know, there are flowers growing out of the rocks beside you. There’s an army of ants working together, carrying leaves so much bigger than they are, just passing you now. The sun has just come out from the clouds. It’s a little steep and there's a big pile of rocks to stumble over, but it’ll get easier soon. Your friend has joined you and put their hand out with a cup of water and a chocolate biscuit. Oh look, a beautiful, big bird has just flown past! But you’ve got your eyes closed, worried about being back in the valley and expecting the mountain top, that you’ve missed the blessings on the path of the mundane.  As a noun, 'wonder' means to have a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful, remarkable or unfamiliar. As a verb, it means to desire to know something, to feel curious. Recently, I feel like God is really reminding me about having childlike wonder. Rather than being a blog post of what I think to be all the answers, brimming with my thoughts, it is a blog post with reflective questions and resources such as bible verses and lyrics, to (hopefully) help you gather your thoughts on what Childlike Wonder is. There’s a song by Bethel called Wonder, and it’s lyrics are: May we never lose our wonder May we never lose our wonder Wide eyed and mystified May we be just like a child Staring at the beauty of our King (Repeat x3) Ooooh oh oh Fill us with wonder May we never lose our wonder May we never lose our wonder Wide eyed and mystified May we be just like a child Staring at the beauty of our King Cause you are beautiful in all your ways King of Kings You are beautiful in all your ways Ooooh Cause you are beautiful in all your ways Just close your eyes The lyrics that really stand out to me are “wide eyed and mystified, may we be just like a child, starring at the beauty of our King”, I think it's a really powerful and inspiring image Every week I help at the Church’s toddler group, and my favourite thing about it is watching the toddlers, and taking in how they act and what they say. Watching them is like watching tiny wobbly adults; one is sweeping the floor, another is telling her baby doll off, another is sweeping the floor and a fourth is pouring pretend tea for his friends. I often lead the crafts, and some of the children get so excited about stickers, colours, glitter, different types of paper. Even at under the age of five, they all have a story to tell if you’ll listen. A story about why they like the colour pink, or what they did this morning, or their baby brother. Wonder. Everything is exciting. Okay, maybe not during the tantrums or strops… but generally I think children are so full of wonder. Curiosity, as well as amazement and adoration. A couple of Sunday’s ago, the worship team were on stage as the congregation joined in with sung worship; a hymn followed by a more modern song. Everything was normal, except one little change. One of the children, a five year old, fearlessly joined the musicians on stage for interpretive dance. She smiled as she twirled and clapped her hand on stage. I stood singing with a big smile on my face. I loved watching her so free up there, with not a single care or worry about getting in the way, or not being sure whether she’s allowed, or distracting people, or looking silly. I thought about what Jesus would say or think if He were to walk through our doors. I quickly became certain that He wouldn't tell her to get down for any of those reasons, so why should we? In fact, part of me was slightly envious; envious of that childlike confidence, freeness, surrender and wonder. I was reminded of Matthew 19:14 that says, "Jesus said, "let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these". Based on Matthew 18:3, which says "unless you become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven", I don't think that Jesus meant the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to only those under the age of eighteen. Instead, I think Jesus notices something about children, perhaps their wonder, and encourages the adults listening to him to change and be like children. Questions: How often is your prayer style and life childlike? How often are you ‘wide eyed and mystified'? Do you get excited about simple, little blessings like toddlers? What's holding you back from experiencing wonder in worship? Thank you for taking the time to read this blog post. I'd love to know your thoughts on what wonder looks like in your life, or how you could 'have' more childlike wonder.
Many people have had braces of some kind, usually during their teenage years. According to the NHS, a third of children need orthodontic work. However, it often isn’t work that takes over six years…
I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve felt self-conscious of having braces, or the way my canines stuck out, the way my jaw was different. In the last six years or so, I’ve been likened to a vampire, I’ve been mocked for my lisp that I had, I’ve been called ‘brace face’, and just a few months ago a couple of drunk strangers said “[she’s] got more metal in her mouth than at a scrapyard” as I walked by. I remember at one point I wouldn’t smile in photos because I didn't like my jaw. Instead, I poked my tongue out so that I didn't feel so self-conscious. At nineteen years old, I am finally finished with braces. As a memoir, I’ve now got TMJD - temporomandibular joint disorder… basically, my jaw locks a lot. I have to repeatedly unlock it in the mornings when I first wake up, then a couple of times during the day, usually when I‘m talking or eating. If I’m ever talking to you and I press my jaw, I’m just unlocking it… as you do… Finally, I’m saying goodbye to the countless appointments, the moulds that they say taste like strawberry but actually taste like old gum. I’m saying goodbye to the X-rays, feeling self-conscious in photos and when speaking in public, the mouth ache, and the title, ‘brace face’.  Within Church ministry, I think that there seems to be a perception that everyone loves their job all of the time; they settled immediately, they are always inspired and know what they’re doing, and are on fire for what they do. I look at Youth Leaders around me who all seem to know what they’re doing, until you sit down with them and hear that they are in part making it up as they go along. I go to conferences and weekends away, and the main speaker will stand up on stage, introduce themselves, tell the crowd what they do for a living, and it’s almost always followed by, “and I love it” or “and I have a passion for ___”. I don’t for one minute they doubt that they love or have passion for what they do, or think they should stand up and say, “my name is ____, I work for ____ and I cannot wait until my contract is up so I can leave”. However, I think it creates an idea that these big leaders have it all together and always love their job, when I’m sure that they have times of struggle too. I started my new job as a Student Youth Worker in July, and I only now feel like I’m completely settled. That’s six months later. Perhaps this is normal, but I spent these six months thinking it wasn’t because people in ministry generally don’t openly share the rocky times they have. That’s why I want to share this blog post; firstly to share this big thing that’s been going on with me recently, but also to become more vulnerable, honest and authentic, and to change this perception that everyone in ministry has a smooth road. I think I struggled in settling so much because I was experiencing so many differences as well as ups and downs in my personal life, and I just couldn’t fix anything. Friends that cheered me on through this asked what they could do to help, and my reply was always “nothing”. I just had to 'wait it out'. I knew I just had to wait it out because I knew this is where God wants me, so this is where I’ll stay.  Quotes by Morgan Harper Nichols are a great help in all circumstances I've found... Everyone at the Church was so lovely in welcoming me. Everyone seemed so excited to have a new youth worker and wanted to know when my university course was starting, if I’ve always lived in the area and generally how I’m doing. And six months on, everyone is just as kind; asking how the youth groups are going, asking if I need anything, asking how university is going. So there wasn’t a problem within the Church that could be instantly fixed with a meeting or telling someone to be kinder or not gossip or communicate better - none of these were problems I was facing. Nobody at the Church I work in should read this and think, “I could have done something more”. This isn’t a blog post to point fingers, since there’s nothing to point fingers at. Everyone did their best and more, and for that I’m truly grateful. I had got used to going to Church and it being like attending a big Christian conference every week; loud, coloured lights, base, a mainly millennial congregation of people who raise their hands during worship songs I loved. I moved from that to a Church that was the opposite in many ways. It just didn’t feel like home. I missed the Church I went to, I missed the young people I worked with and I missed my previous line manager line-managing me. The more I thought about how I still wasn’t settled, and I was just ‘fine’ rather than ‘happy’, the worse it felt. At one point it became an achievement if I hadn’t cried at work that day. But nobody could fix anything for me, and that’s what made it worse. Nobody could make it any better. Nobody was doing anything wrong. I’m now 100% settled, and I find myself telling anyone who will listen this joyful update. So what helped me settled, how did the change come about?… Cheerleaders I’m really thankful for the ‘cheerleaders’ I had over these months. In late September I met up with two youth leaders/friends/influences separately. I expected the first friend to affirm me and say things like, “I know that you can do this, it’s okay, I love you”. She didn’t. Instead she told me that I’ve got to make a decision about what I do soon and that I “can’t be a Jonah and just run away”. It sounds harsh, but it was the reality I needed to hear. I’m the kind of person to really remember words people say over me; good and bad. However, I don’t remember a thing the second friend told me. Not a word. I don’t think this makes it any less significant or helpful at the time because what I do remember is feeling peace, companionship and support, and I think that’s more important than the words that were shared. The continued support from these two people helped; to know that I had people who were for me, who would listen and would practically help me if they could really made the load lighter. I also met with a colleague, and I think that was the start of change. Although I had planned to, I never actually said how low I was feeling and how unsettled I was, instead we just chatted over lunch and got to know each other. I was honest about some of the things I was struggling with (like differences in churches and missing the old) but we never really dug deep into that. Without even knowing it, she’s been my biggest cheerleader; really looking after me in every way. That motherly support has given me a sense of belonging. Uni was a great cheerleader too. I had had a traumatic driving experience (a story for another day) and I came into uni the following day, already ready to give up. I went to my tutor’s office and had a cry, told her how unsettled I was and there and then she pencilled in a date to come and visit me and my line manager the following week. The fact that she/the university would travel the 166 mile round trip just for a short meeting really blew me away. Belonging I mentioned that a colleague-turned-friend gave me a sense of belonging. Similarly, as did the Christmas period. Over Christmas, someone asked me what I’m doing after my three years at uni/in my current job, and before I had time to answer, someone else chipped in and said, “she’s staying here!” That’s not the first time I’ve heard this. Although there’s an element of humour in the various comments, this time I actually thought, “perhaps, if there was an opportunity, I will stay here - it would be pretty cool to see my youngest youth through, just as my youth leader did, were the opportunity to arise". There was a change in perception. Over Christmas, I dressed up as a mouse to play the part of Maud, a narrator in our Nativity - as you do. I don’t like participating in role plays or dramas, and I especially don’t like doing it whilst in a costume on stage. However, this was a highlight of Term 1. I enjoyed it so much and wasn’t at all scared or self-conscious. Participating like this really made me feel part of something. I took part because it was somewhat my job to be involved as the youth worker, but also because I’m part of the Church family, and the Church family gets involved in these things. God By far the biggest influence on this change was God. Right from the beginning I knew that this is where I should be. I don’t understand why I struggled so much, but I find rest in knowing that God was in it all, and He knew what He was doing; He always does. He doesn’t lead us into deep waters to leave us to drown, but He goes with us in deep waters to teach us something about Him, to show us His power, to give us opportunity to step out the boat. Just take when Jesus calms the storm in Mark 4:35-41, or when Jesus calls Peter to walk on water in Matthew 14:22-33, or look to Isaiah 43:1-4 that tells us because “you are precious and honoured in my sight and because I love you”, because I am the Lord your God”, because “I created you and formed you” and because “I have called you by name”, “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned”.  I’m sure that in a couple of months, maybe years, I’ll look back and totally understand why I struggled. But for now, I’m happy in this warm feeling of being settled.
 I've been thinking a lot recently about how I consume Instagram and how that makes me feel. Long story short, not good. Up until now, I've allowed Instagram to tell me what I am and who I am: not smart enough, not pretty enough, not loved enough, not healthy enough, not rich enough, not popular enough. I've allowed a man-made app ordain who I am, when there's a God-spoken book right next to my bed that tells me the truth: fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, precious, gifted, fought for, filled with sufficient grace, loved. Instagram as a Highlights Reel
We all know it's a highlights reel. Yet I can't help feeling lonely when I see friends hanging out without me, or jealous when I see sunny beaches when I'm buried under books and session plans. I can't help but compare myself to those girls showing their abs in a gym mirror. I know that people are just posting the good days, so why do I continue to fall into this trap of unworthiness? Why do I continue to scroll endlessly, consuming every last bit? I'll tell you why. It's because I want to be part of something, I want to join in with what everyone else is a part of. I want people to see I'm achieving things, that I'm studying and working and keeping a home too. I want people to see that I go to the gym, I hang out with friends and family, how I live in a beautiful city and I visit new places. I show pictures of my study-space set-up, before I've even got round to doing any work. I post selfies when I don't feel like smiling. I post pictures of the beautiful hills I've just climbed, but not with the truthful caption about how freezing I was, how I got my favourite shoes muddy or how my brothers wound me up. I post pictures of my beautifully snug flat, featuring lit candles, books, food and general tidiness. I don't post a picture of my sitting on the sofa in the lounge that needs a good clean, crying about how I've just got home from work with a dozen stories to tell but nobody to tell them to. Part of me wants to put more of this on my feed. All of me wishes people I follow did too. I don't mean always posting crying selfies, oversharing and becoming too vulnerable. However, I wonder how many people post selfies with a happy caption, but have actually had a really horrible week - they don't have nice clothes on or a full face of makeup, but actually have a tear-stained face and are in joggers and a very old top that's crying out to be washed. I wonder how many people post 'throwbacks' to their summer holiday, because they wish they were there rather than sitting in classes they don't understand and taking exams they can't get more than an E in. I wonder how many people post pictures of their friends, but before they went out they felt sick with anxiety. Up until now, I've allowed Instagram to tell me what I am and who I am: not smart enough, not pretty enough, not loved enough, not healthy enough, not rich enough, not popular enough. I've allowed a man-made app ordain who I am, when there's a God-spoken book right next to my bed that tells me the truth: fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, precious, gifted, fought for, filled with sufficient grace, loved. |
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