Spring beginnings

This week, I'm in Berlin for the first holiday I've had with my parents since the trip before I moved to uni. There have been challenges, as ever: I'm quite fiercely independent (not the most attractive of traits, and one I'm trying to soften at the moment...), and I've built up some more patience constantly being with my parents. We've had a few moments of frustration when I've felt overprotected and got impatient but, as the week's gone on, I've let my guard down and relaxed into my dad's jokes and cafe lunches with my mum... I set out on this holiday hoping to invest time and love in my parents, who I feel I've neglected quite a bit since I got ill, and think the last couple of days in particular when I've spent time with them separately have been such a good opportunity to do that.

I'm looking forward to being back in Warrington and Brighton, where things have been moving quickly in the last few weeks as well. In my Brighton home, Iyla is home and we're all adjusting to her presence.

One of the last mornings before I drove up to my parents' house, the rest of the family went to the park just after one of her feeds to give Ellie some special Mummy-and-Daddy-time, and I looked after her for a couple of hours. She was more alert than she'd ever really been with me before, and holding her and talking to her as I did my quiet time was incredibly precious. I'm so thankful for this family and how they treat me as one of their own.

I've changed churches in the last month too: lots of change, but it's a decision I'm proud of. I'd come to realise that, actually, church wasn't really church for me for the last several months but instead an opportunity to serve in the baby room and then hide from community and not make services myself and be too scared to try new things. I LOVE to serve; I love the baby room: the beautiful little ones and their lovely parents; the people I serve alongside; drinking coffee and rocking sleepy infants, and the time I spent there was always so precious and the highlight of my week. I'm sure I was meant to be there for a time, and have learned and grown through it, but it doesn't glorify God to hide away from Him: church then is not too different to a nursery for me. I would go to the morning, serve at both services and feel like I'd 'done church' for that week - but actually I'd not engaged with a community outside of the baby room or been challenged in my faith. I'm good with babies, it boosts my confidence and I love them so it makes me feel good but it's not Jesus and that's the reason I should be going to church. Despite my recognition of that truth and attempt to make changes since then, I've felt increasingly sure that I needed to move churches. This has been hard: I like to stay loyal to a church; I don't like to rock the boat; but so many things fell into place at the same time and the more I prayed about it, the more sure I felt about leaving. Sad, but right.

I've moved to a smaller church, part of the Newfrontiers family, and am settling in well. On my second Sunday, after meeting with the site leader for coffee during the week, he called me unexpectedly to ask if I would lead worship at the weekly pre-service prayer meeting. I was very surprised because I'd only briefly talked about worship when we chatted (he'd done some background research by talking to mutual friends!), but agreed and the style was perfect for the way I love to worship: informal, stripped back, just a guitar and voice and with people praying out loud in between songs and repeating sections. I felt instantly so at home - God is so good....

One of my Lent goals this year has been to get dressed within 5 minutes every morning. It sounds simple, but one of the most daily lingering eating disorder struggles has been linked with adjusting to my healthy body: freaking out while getting dressed often; deciding I'm too fat for all my clothes; changing and rejecting all my outfits and getting more and more upset. So since the start of Lent, I've been setting a timer on my phone for 5 minutes and my choice has to be on and complete by the time it goes off. It's getting easier: today I even tried on dresses in an H&M changing room with no tears and no real distress.

 It wouldn't be real of me to not mention that there have been other struggles in the last few weeks. In leaving behind the numbing, softening aspect that accompanied my eating disorder,  I've fallen prey to a couple of other negative coping mechanisms properly for the first time: an afternoon where I tried to numb out by drinking more than a bottle of wine; some scratching and hurting myself in moments of being overwhelmed. Torn between the 'better the devil you know' and the fact that 'it's easier to redirect a moving target', I'm desperately now trying to pursue the actual answer to the things I feel I can't cope with:

 I'm getting closer and closer day by day. Quiet times are getting deeper and more tender; less like something I have to remind myself to do and more something I'm excited for. I'm so thankful for the things I'm constantly learning; despite the struggles along the way. I am more assured of God's goodness than ever...