The age of the Twenty-somethings

So, I turned twenty whole years old about a week or so back.

I am excited, daunted and a little bit bewildered by the whole thing. God has brought me this far, all the way through my teenage years. This is the decade where stuff is supposed to happen to people. Like graduation, jobs, relationships, maybe even children... It's all a little overwhelming when I think about it all like that.

I'm quite happy just plodding along at my usual pace, letting things unfold as God wills them to. Or, actually I should say my usual pace is about a sprint it usually seems! 

I feel strangely sad to have left my teens behind. But I am excited to see what's in store for the next years of my life, whether that's what is socially expected of me, or what He has in mind. I will eventually be a fully fledged adult-y person, and I cannot wait to see how God molds me!

So, with a strange sense of nostalgia as I speak to fourteen-year-olds and remember that that was now six years ago for me, I pray that God will keep me close as I continue into my twenties.

The One After The Plunge

So yesterday, the 23rd of March I was baptised at Above Bar Church.

And it was just incredible.

Being physically baptised has not caused me to have a relationship with Christ. It is the open celebration of that relationship. I didn't realise just how much of a high I was going to get from it though (spiritually, not any dodgy dealings here! haha).  
It was just incredible to be able to share my testimony with the whole church. It was incredible to have people that I love there to hear it. It was incredible to share that special day with some amazingly special people. Lucy, Becky, April, Beth. My housemate Lucy and I went to the classes together, and it was amazing to be able to affirm eachother of the gospel.


But most of all, it was incredible to just express to awesomeness of God.

To be able to have my family hear that is something I'll cherish forever. It wasn't just that I'm happy they could come to support me. I'm overjoyed that they had the opportunity to hear the gospel. So many answered prayers all in one night!
And talking of answered prayers, I'm going to embarrass Beth once again.

At the beginning of this academic year, as a hall group leader I waited with a mix of nervousness and anticipation for the new Freshers to come to hall group. Little did I know, that God had it in mind to bring along Beth. Not yet a Christian, she had so many questions. Questions that reminded me of the core message of Christianity. She asked the questions that I had forgotten are often just assumed in Christian circles. She saw things afresh for what they were. And she questioned them. 

Not only did she question what on earth these Christians were doing, but she saw Jesus. In an age of skepticism, it is just phenomenal that God still shines through. That Beth came to faith! She investigated, she discovered and she responded. 

I will always be eternally thankful for being able to be a small part in Beth's journey. I can't quite believe that God has let me be a small puzzle piece in the new, satifying and eternal life that Beth has now started. 

As she gave her testimony, I looked to her flatmates, who had the biggest grins on their faces. I did too. I couldn't contain myself by the time she was baptised and came out of the water, and gave her a huge hug. I never imagined that that could really happen, and it did!

As you can tell, I'm buzzing.

I sin. I mess up. But Jesus still used me. He used ME. Words and actions matter. Just wow. 

I had the amazing privilege to not only celebrate my relationship with Christ, but to share that day with someone who has impacted my life in a way I can't ever explain. So yeah, Beth I think we're at the friendship stage of hugging now, just to clarify :D 

Not everyone gets to be baptised with someone that they've seen come to faith. It just blows my mind!

:D

The one before I get baptised

So, in just a matter of hours I'll be taking the plunge... into the baptism pool.

I've realised that God has called me to be baptised into his family at my church. I have to get up in front of hundreds of people and manage to stammer out my life story, before being immersed in water.
This is kind of a big deal then?
I'm doing this to signify that I have been changed by God, and that He is the ruler of my life. I'll be shaking with nerves and fighting to stay composed in front of so many people, but it's not about that. This is my way of showing publicly what God has done for me personally. 

Not only that, but I get to share the event with someone that I saw become a Christian before my eyes. How freaking awesome is that?? That kind of thing just doesn't happen to people like me, except it has!

I'll update again once I've been dunked! <3

Just Like Only a Ninja, can call another Ninja, Ninja

... Okay so if you didn't already gather, then the title is a line from the well known Tim Minchin song called 'Prejudice'. 
It explains how it is only acceptable and permissible for a ginger person to call another ginger, ginger. If someone with, for instance, brown hair should say it then it is equal to a capital offense effectively. Might seem slightly over dramatic, but such is life as a red head.
Which, as a side note is just another way to call someone ginger without actually uttering the words.

So, why am I banging on about why you cannot call me a ginger? (Unless of course you are one).

Because that's not what defines me. 

Sure, I have curly ginger hair, that sticks out at awkward angles and never does what it's told. Believe me, I have often lectured my inarticulate strands of hair about their job in life to no avail.
Moreover, when people are describing me to others, it's always 'the tall ginger one', that are the first words to come out. Maybe followed by 'always wears strange patterned jeans and always keeps us late after Unite chatting'. 
I have always seen my hair as a thing that belongs to me. I love my hair colour and the way my hair curls. I always cherish compliments I receive about it, often from old ladies at my home church, reminiscing about their own hair when they were young. But the comments haven't always been so nice.

Back in Junior School is when I fully remember being bullied for the first time. The most memorable thing I remember them picking out to hurt me was calling me ginger. I used to hate it, and insist that my hair was Strawberry Blonde. This fact was incredibly important to me, and I held onto it until Secondary school. But that was just another way for the bullies to latch onto me. I let them hurt me because I believed that my hair colour was one of the most important defining traits that I had. To say I was ginger was giving me an alternative identity. My hair wasn't ginger. That was someone else's attribute and they were missing the real me. 
I still remember countless times that I let the simple word ginger ostracise me from my class. I've often wondered why I found it so hurtful to be called ginger. It was only the start of other things the bullies would say, but it was always their way of gaining my attention. I was so adamant that I was who I thought I was, I hated being mistaken as someone else.

But looking back, I was all wrong.
Colossions tells me that my old identity is hidden in Christ. I am no longer that girl being picked on. I am a woman of Christ and a sister to Jesus the Messiah. That's mind blowing. Like seriously what. Who just becomes a sister to Christ? God's children, that's who. My identity is found in Christ. A new creation. He created me. He knows me. He knows what hair colour I have, what my favourite ice cream flavour is and who my best friends are. But he doesn't define me by my jeans or my hair. He defines me as His sister. What other people have said is rubbish. 
And that fact is incredibly freeing. Unbelievably so. 

I can go about life living for Jesus and serving Him as best I can because He has blessed me and cherishes me as part of His family. I can call out to Him and He will save me. 

It might seem so trivial to be hurt because of my hair. But the affects have been long lasting. I still spend time reminding myself that when someone calls me ginger it should not be taken as a negative. My friends tease me as a sign of affection. I know that in my head, but my past associations mean that sometimes I have to ensure my self-worth and esteem are not being chipped away at again. 

My worth is found in Jesus Christ. I was created in the image of God, the creator of everything. Literally everything. Even me. And my silly ginger hair.

This has kind of been a personal therapy post, with some home truths that I'm speaking over myself more than anything. I just need to spend time asking God to forgive the way I made my hair colour an idol over Him in my life. God is my priority. 

I am ginger, and proudly so. But it doesn't make me who I am :).

Leading by example

So as you can tell, I kind of failed at keeping this blog updated whilst I was away.

And there are a few good reasons for that, which I won't bore you with now. Either way, here I am about to update you all with a few key things that I learned while I was in America. 

The first, is this: How important it is to lead by example.

Now everyone hates a hypocrite. And children are no exception to this. Many would like to argue how simple it is to pull the wool over a child's eyes, or confuse them with facts that are far from the truth. However, it is incredibly difficult to encourage behaviours or beliefs that were not being displayed by the encourager. 

Let me give one example of many. 

After swimming each day, my fellow counselor and I walked the children back to the cabin to change for their next activity. Each day this activity would change. Therefore, one of us would have to check which activity we were doing. If the activity was for example, hiking, we needed to ensure that the children wore trainers. If they were doing arts and crafts, they could wear whatever they so chose. 

Anyway, one day I went to tell the girls to put on trainers. 

'But you're not wearing them Rebecca', one girl pointed at my flip flops to try and get out of changing. I nodded to her, saying she was quite right. I quickly went to change, to show the girls that whatever they had to do, so did I. It didn't matter if for that day I wouldn't be joining them on their activity and was actually going on break. I had to be a role model. Because like it or not, as a counselor, we were the girls' role models. If we jumped in the creek without hesitating to go Cray fishing, then so did the girls. I watched first hand as they remained wary of even taking their trainers off when I had kept my own on my feet.

So, where am I going with this?

The imagery the bible gives us is to be the children of God. Jesus was the perfect example for us all to follow. He was sinless and without blame. As children of God, we are not only adopted into a family, we become part of it. A child looks to a role model to learn how to behave. Often one of the most confusing things for a non-Christian to understand is why we choose to live the way we do. Well, we have a role model in Jesus Christ who is the ultimate role model and by acknowledging his sovereignty we naturally aspire to be like Him. 

I am in no way comparing the way the campers acted to copy me, to us copying Christ. Indeed, I am a faulty human being and would much rather that the girls attempted to follow Jesus as an example than me. But that was my job, to try and be Jesus' hands and feet to show them how to live for Jesus. Not an easy task! But, this illustration for me merely gives a massive insight into why Jesus knew it was so important to show us the way to act in the gospels. 

So from a summer of 8 year old girls wanting to carry my backpack, imitate me by telling eachother to 'Get in a straight line!', hold my hand, and many other things which showed how they tried to be like us, it really opened my eyes. Jesus said in Mark's gospel to follow Him like a little child. He wants us to be like him. Now I know exactly why he said that.

One of the most touching things from the summer that showed me the impact words and actions can have on a child was this.

At Camp Allegheny, there is a swinging bridge. Now, it doesn't really swing, it more just shakes. But to young girls, this bridge can be the epitome of terrifying. On one particular occasion, I had to quell rumours of a huge crocodile that lived underneath. Many of the girls would cry, and ask to hold the counselors hands as they crossed to go hiking. So the one week, I had a terrified girl clutching my hand as we tried to shuffle across the bridge. I told her that it was a good thing the bridge shook, as that meant that in the wind it would shake a little. But if it was stiff, it would just break clean off. She nodded, and I didn't think anything more about it. (I was more attempting to calm her down than be accurate, sorry to any who know much better about bridge mechanics than I!)

The following week, the same girl returned to camp. Once again, we found ourselves tackling the bridge. Except this time, she wasn't worried. Another teary eyed girl was gripping my hand, and half way across she stopped and refused to move. When this happened, the girl who had returned told her, 

'Rebecca said it was a good thing that the bridge shakes, because it would break if it didn't'. I nodded, surprised she had remembered, and watched as she walked off ahead of us, not worrying about a possible made-up-crocodile attack any longer. 

Anyway, what may seem a mundane story actually was incredibly important to me. Each word I said to these girls could have amazing impact. I had to be careful how I used them.

Jesus calls us to be his disciples. Reading the bible and learning more about Jesus just might be a good way to start following Him! :)

Rebecca x

The 'Swinging' Bridge

Kaleagh, Morgan, Pearl and Amber creeped out by a Cray Fish

The gang for Senior Sports Camp with our drying tie-dye, featuring Courtney one of my co-counselors!

Camp America

So, here goes my first attempt to keep an ongoing blog for the summer!

As many of you know, tomorrow I fly to America to spend the whole summer working as a camp counselor in Pennsylvania. I am really excited, but now that I'm basically packed and everything is actually happening tomorrow... wow I'm nervous! I feel like the first day of University all over again; chucked in with a load of people that I've never met and desperate to make a good first impression because I'm going to be working with them for months. So, that requires not doing another me and giving another person an awful rendition of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air the first time they ask me where I'm from. Yeah, that happened. Kind of.

I've settled the ruck-sack/suitcase debate, weighed and reweighed and repacked my bag, checked my kit list, got my Mum to check the contents of my bag and rootled  through my University stuff to find everything I need. Or at least, think I need. Hundreds of £££ later, and I'm finally all set. 

Well, wish me luck....

I'll let you know when I land if I can! 

Rebecca

Starting Out.

So when I came to University, I had a few expectations. Some of them were bad, some of them were good. But overall, to be perfectly honest I don't even know what those expectations really were.

You see, everyone always talks about how much they love University. And, because of this I suppose I assumed that I would buck the trend. Why would I, no why should I have a great time at Uni?

It is safe to say by now, over half a year after starting the biggest adventure of my life (cue cliché puking noises) that I am not one of those people. I absolutely love being at University. It's hard work, but I have never felt so fulfilled and content. 
Now don't go thinking that I have the perfect life. By far, things are not the way I want them to be. My closest friends are going through the toughest times of their lives, and the problems that I had before coming to uni haven't simply disappeared. Each day has it's own struggles and I haven't been happy-go-larry everyday. 
If anything, being away from some of the issues my own family have is probably like sticking my fingers in my ears. I don't like running away from my problems. That isn't how I deal with them. So why exactly am I singing and dancing in the streets if I still have all these problems?

Well, I suppose this is the point where Jesus comes in. 

Answered prayer is what has made my life so amazing. It has all been down to God.
I prayed and prayed before I moved into halls to be put with the people God wanted me near. That they might not be hostile to Christianity, that they would want to know more about God. I have that. I couldn't believe how open my flatmates were to faith. I have been able to get stuck in with Christian Union activities and spread the gospel. But most importantly, my faith has been built tremendously by the fantastic church that I have become part of, and the friendships I have made.
But that wasn't down to me. It was all down to God.
He provided me with exactly what He knew I needed, even if I don't know that right now.

How do you know that Rebecca? Aren't you just not giving yourself credit?

I'm not a popular person. I never have been. I have been the type of girl with a few close friends, not many. I am not very good at social situations and I prefer talking in groups so that the pressure to come up with good conversation is diluted somewhat. I would happily spend the day cooped up in my room on a laptop. But there's a flip side to me as well. I love to do things. I love to join as many clubs as I can and try everything. I love making new friends and spending time with the one's I already have, but I was never the best at doing it.
But here, I've found my place. God's fitted me into my niche. I meet new people all the time, and I take pleasure in making new friends. I no longer fret that I'm not good enough or the right kind of person to be accepted. I have a large group of wonderful friends who build me up every day. I have flatmates who want to know about almighty God. I have been provided with opportunities to serve, in ways that even I don't think I'll be any good in. But God wants me to do them. I couldn't have the confidence to be myself without the confidence that God has accepted me for who I am and better yet - adores me for it.

University is not like school. In my experience, from the people I have met I can say that everyone has the same goal - to belong. University has taught me not just about my degree, but about belonging to God. I can be confident in my beliefs and not be apologetic about them. I am living for God, and unlike what I thought before, there are so many people who want to live for God too! 

I am not saying that just by believing and trusting in God that everyone will have what they call a 'good time' in whatever they do. But following whatever God's will for us is, will lead us on the best possible path for our lives. Admittedly, it might not seem that way right now. But like the Bible character Jonah, he thought he was going to die when he was thrown into the water. Yet when he cried out to God, he was saved - by none other than a fish. So maybe God will save you in a weird way. 
Anyway, tangent over.

A few weeks ago, I had a moment of recollection. 
A Life with God as my guidance counsellor, freedom and solace has really challenged me to make the personal God I call father personal to me. I want to call our father, my Dad.

If you want to thank God for what he has provided for you, then maybe you want to say my prayer with me. Or maybe you have no idea what I'm on about at all. Either way, let me end with this:

Thanks Dad. I'm sorry if I forget how awesome you are sometimes. But hey, let me tell you this now. I trust you.

Love Rebecca xxx