Eight Years Ago...

A while ago, for a blog run by Durham Inter-Collegiate Christian Union, I wrote 500 words under the title, ‘Why I am a Christian.’ But I found that 500 words didn’t cut it. It couldn’t express the struggle, the confusion, the resistance I had to following Jesus, to letting myself surrender to his call in my heart, to be fully free and changed in Him. It did not express the pain of bullying, and the pain of be becoming a bully, of how I victimised others and myself. It could not get to the depths of my emotional recklessness, the seething anger borne out of intense insecurity in my identity. Therefore, I don’t think it did Jesus justice. He deserves more glory than 500 words can express.

This is going to be long. Find the short version here.

Eight years ago, I gave my life to Christ. An imperfect girl finally realised that living a good life and trying to be perfect wasn’t enough and could never be enough, and that I could never be enough no matter how hard I tried. Struggle didn’t end at that point, in fact I think it really kicked off then, because when I rejected God, reading his word, prayer, his power over my horrific sin for the next few years, I did it with eyes wide open and a heart that wanted to be hard. I suppose this is my story.

Most people assume that a girl like me, enthusiastic to the point of insanity and who currently desires to work full-time in a church or mission context, must have been brainwashed by her parents into this Jesus thing. Truth is, there was Christian influence around me from my mum and from some of my extended family, but I didn’t enjoy it. I went to half-term Bible clubs and did the worksheets for the prizes, not because I was enthralled by the stories. And when the prizes were Bible stories I didn’t let my mum read them to me – no way! I avidly remember telling my mum exactly what I thought about church: dull, boring, full of old ladies. And when I didn’t get the answers right, couldn’t prove myself, I kicked off. Being a church kid was about being a good kid. Bring your bible, get a point. 10 points and you get extra sweets. Learn a memory verse (in the car on the way), get a point, get 5 points and you get a prize. I was in church because I wanted rewards for my good acts.

Aged 9, I remember being moved by a story told to me at church. I went home and hid behind the sofa. I prayed a prayer of sorts and thought ‘job done.’ I’d done the ceremony. I was a Christian, right? I believed that I really was a Christian and reassured myself with all my knowledge of the Bible. But my heart was bruised. Bullied from around the same age, I retaliated with violence. I remember dragging kids by the hair, thumping them with books, hitting with those rubber skipping ropes. It was satisfying, getting someone back who had done you wrong. I didn’t understand the gospel message – Jesus forgave every sin, theirs and mine, and calls us to forgive. It might be hard for a 9 year old to even contemplate this, but in my moments of anger, where was Jesus? He was for Sundays and he helped me win prizes.

Bullying led to rocky friendships, constant suspicion that I wasn’t liked, doubt in my abilities which led to an unhealthy attitude of perfectionism. In my Year 6 SATS I had to be seated in a separate room because I would get so anxious of everyone around me writing and think that I was useless, driving me to panic attacks and tears. I can’t even count the amount of times I walked out of class to find a corner where I could be alone and breathe. I had friends, but it took a long time. Some of the friends from the past had become those who bullied me, or bullied my new friends. But I was clever enough, and I was striving to go to that better school. I also danced, and I was good at that, better than them at least, and that’s what I pursued. I was in pantomimes and did auditions for the West End. That’s where my hope lay. I wanted to be celebrated.

I moved to secondary school, a girl’s grammar school, hoping that I would change now. No one would remember who I was from my first school. I didn’t have to get angry here, I just had to work hard and make friends and it sounded so simple. No boys around to make me feel even more uncomfortable. This school taught dance in PE, even better. I saw that this was a place where I could thrive.

Within a month or so, I realised that I couldn’t just change. I was already frustrated that I was coming bottom in maths – why were these girls all so clever? Why didn’t I know how to do long division at all (I still don’t know how to do it!)? The friends I had made might have accidentally left me behind to go to lunch and I would have a paranoia party – ‘They left me deliberately, they don’t like me, how could they treat me like this?’. I wallowed in my own self-pity and sunk down deep into insecurity again. It wasn’t long before I became the bully. I was tired of feeling insecure and paranoid, of having no one to sit with at lunch and not even getting the grades I wanted to make up for it. I wrote a note ‘I hate you’ and put it in a jumper for her to find when they came out of the canteen. That will show them. I used one of the only forms of social network we had back in 06’ (Stardoll), made an anonymous account, and wrote hate. I used school e-mail, too. I even remember getting people’s passwords and checking if they had also misused their IT class to write e-mails to one another to check that they weren’t about me. I was sly, but I was caught. It was obvious.

You can’t force people to forgive a bully. I would never have called myself that then. In my eyes, I was the one being hurt by people neglecting me. Really, there was a wider heart issue. Even at church, I wouldn’t speak in case I got answers wrong, wouldn’t even read aloud. I was no good. I carried on dancing and those extra activities in a place where I was successful got me through all my bad homework. I still would have called myself a Christian. In RE I knew the answers, answered the debates. I had it all at my fingertips, all except what it was like to be in relationship with the living Jesus, the living Lord, the Saviour who forgives and transforms hearts. I was so much further than I realised.

To top off a first few terms of secondary school, I attempted to strangle a fellow classmate. It was a trivial issue. Every year 7 class did a dance for our Gym & Dance display. I wanted my group to have the best section in our dance. Another girl wanted to take control. Dance was my area, I was good at it, her thoughts are wrong, why is she messing with this? I got angry over a few weeks, and then I exploded. I ran away in such shame and guilt. After an act of violence, from throwing a pen or storming out of class to the more extreme incidents, there was always shame and guilt and tears and a lot of running to cold, dark corners or the end of the field where I would be alone. Sometimes I tried to call out to God but he never came. He didn’t fix me so why should I call on him? Why did he make me like this? I was trying to control myself and it wasn’t working, and now everyone hates me even more, they are scared of me, the few friends I might have made won’t talk to me now. Yet I also couldn’t deny that again, getting my own back was satisfying. A moment of violence was also a strange pacifier for all my insecurity.

I was invited to go to a Christian conference by a friend, and I said yes, mainly because at 12 the idea of a holiday in Butlins where there were water slides sounded fun. I thought I had the Christian thing sorted, anyway, so it was no big deal. It was very different to what I was used to. The meetings had long periods of standing up and singing, which was fine for me as a performer. I quite enjoyed it, apart from the fact that all the songs were new and I didn’t know them. I think the unfamiliarity of these songs meant that when I did sing, I sang for the first time in years actually having to think about what I was singing about God. I learned over the first few days to truly delight in singing these amazing words. I took notes in the talks as I always did at home, not that I ever really looked at them again. But, it was really uplifting.

It got to day 3 or 4, I can’t remember. It was a Tuesday evening, drawing to the end of the 5 days, and I didn’t want to listen to the talks anymore – I had friends and these friends had sweets. Sitting on the floor, chatting in hushed tones in a circle, we weren’t really being told off. It was quite the rebellion for this 12 year old. There was paper at the back of the room and we were told to go and write down behaviour that we wanted to change. We were being encouraged to be more Christ-like, yet I walked over, saw other people’s ideas and judged them. I don’t gossip like they do, I’m kind to my sister. I sat down, thinking that I was good enough. I didn’t really understand what it was to come broken, helpless and sinful at the cross of Jesus, overwhelmed by my own sin until I sat down. It flooded onto my shoulders and I spent the next few minutes (though it felt like ages) scribbling down everything I could think of.  My anger being the big issue, but then it rumbled down into the small, everyday ways in which I rejected God. I saw the extent to which I was running away. Whenever I sat back down, something else struck me and I ran back to write it. 

It wasn’t just that I realised I wasn’t a good girl, it was that I realised for the first time how much I needed grace. I needed Jesus to help me overcome all of this. He did to overcome all of this, for me, the girl who thought she had it sorted and didn’t need anything but a good knowledge and religious looking actions to be right with God.

The room gathered and we ran through this piece of paper, symbolising Jesus breaking the chains of our sin. I was elated like nothing else. People sang and I grabbed bits of paper and ripped them apart. It was an inexpressible joy and freedom that I suddenly felt. The best dance performance, the loudest applause, never topped it. When we got back to our chalet, the people I was staying with asked me, ‘So are you a Christian now?’ after I had chatted excitedly with them about what had happened. I paused. I realised that I actually hadn’t been a Christian before I had grasped all of that. It shocked me, but thrilled me. I answered a confident ‘yes’ and was welcomed into the family by a hug that I won’t forget.

Not everyone has such a moment to speak of, and it is amazing to see how that moment when I was trying to be cool, not listen, actually became a moment where I grasped the gospel, the 'good news', I had been hearing from childhood for the first time. It was the moment where I saw the folly in my goodness from God’s eyes. But it didn’t change me instantly. I’m not sure I leaped home and told everyone like so many in the Bible seem to do when they encounter Jesus like that. I’m not even sure I told my mum! It was a slow slog from there. There were too many issues that still seemed too big for Jesus to handle. I wanted to read my Bible, but there was still a wrong attitude. I read verses on anxiety and anger and found them patronising, and to be honest read the Bible to confirm that I was still good, doing the right thing, plodding along nicely.

I still struggled with anger. I was in counselling, and then I was in therapy. I didn’t understand why I still struggled. I had a real faith, but real doubts too. Puberty, hormones, endless streams of problematic friendships and my own perfectionism were a constant battle. I struggled to see how Jesus could help me if my friends were ignoring me, or if a friend was self-harming, or if I still couldn’t stop having panic attacks in class. It was a turbulent time, and I was still very insecure. Jesus wasn’t a quick-fix 'solution': I still had lots to learn and understand.

June 2009: I reached a tipping point. A netball game got a bit intense. I was losing, I was forced to accept my failure and the failure of my team, and a friend who had been causing me a lot of anxiety was on the winning team and loving it. She jibed in jest, but I snapped. How could she? Did she know what her problems were putting me through? I ran at her, there was a violent attack that I mercifully can’t remember the details of. I ran to the empty PE cupboard, bright red, face hot with anger and shame. I cried, I was shaken, I hated myself, I hated this anger that seemed to be controlling me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I started banging my head against the wall, contemplated self-harm momentarily, but it ended on my knees. I was praying for forgiveness. I knew that I needed a saviour because my efforts to be good, to be god in my own life and take control, were failing.

In all my violent incidents, or insecurity, I never blamed myself or saw myself as a problem. It was always other people that triggered me. The people around that knew all the answers when I didn’t, or a comment made which tipped me over... Why could I never take the blame? I had to write reports of my actions and it would always start with a scapegoat clause, an attempted defence. It wasn’t just me. By deflecting all my problems as other people’s problems, I had in my eyes escaped calling it ‘sin’, that word of dread. But it was, and now I knew it. I was crushed. I was stuck dumb. I was so ashamed. I saw that for years people had been scared of me – the only friends I made I eventually let down somehow. I recommitted to following Jesus, and it wasn’t on the agreement that I was fixed up or would fix myself up, but on the agreement that I would surrender.

I faced girls turning away from me, and kindness from a few who took pity and didn’t follow the crowd (still great friends today!). My summer was my ‘summer of darkness’. No friends to hang out with, six weeks of family time and lots of visits to Shakeaway! In the nights I read my bible and prayed with more understanding. I prayed for those that I thought had hurt me, as Jesus commanded us to do. I prayed that I might forgive as he forgave me. I didn’t expect that a few weeks into the next school year it would really happen. I was reconciled to Jesus and reconciled to my friends. My heart, too, was slowly changing. Within a year, the counselling and therapy was no longer needed. It was nothing to do with me. I couldn’t change myself – I had been trying for years and falling flat. He alone orchestrated the change in my heart by His Spirit as I read his word with open eyes and a longing to know more of Jesus. He alone could rescue me from the depths of my insecurity, inadequacy, anger, anxiety.

On a bus one day in October, having seen how God had completely turned my thinking about and changed my heart, my thoughts turned to baptism. Before, it was a weird ritual, but now it had a whole new meaning, and I wanted to proclaim that I was died and raised with Christ, raised to a new body, made a new creation because of his death. I wanted to proclaim his victory over sin and death in my life and for others to see and be encouraged. January 3^rd, 2010.

Those are the 'big bits', I guess, although that is only just the beginning. I continue to grow and change and fail and fear and pray and stumble and pray a lot more... and fall again. I’ve taken the gospel message out, the good news has been proclaimed with my words and hopefully in my life. It’s why I took a year between school and University to work for free, live on little, so that I could share the love of God and the message of Jesus’ death to the most marginalised in society. It’s why I am always rushing around at University and am so glad to be taking on roles in CU at Durham next term. What good news we have to share!

It’s why I want to give my whole life to Jesus. We owe a debt of love we can never repay. We are still weak and helpless, yet our sins are remembered no more and we are clothed in His righteousness – set apart for His glory. We have been adopted by the Creator of the Universe, who calls himself Father. This will hurt, this will cost. This will be worth it.

But I echo Paul in my life (with trembling lips): ‘But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord... I want to know Christ, yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings...one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press onwards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenwards in Christ Jesus.’

And I follow Jesus, who calls me to ‘Go’.

To Him be the glory.

First Term Lessons

University has been a learning curve like no other. By the time I was old enough to really have a solid grasp of who I was, I had the same friends for three years and could easily avoid those I didn't like. I had my routines and my hobbies all worked out, and everyone understood them because we were all alike. I would get up early and go to bed early. I wouldn't work past 7 and would watch TV every night with my mum before bed. I spent most Saturdays completing my work from the previous week and was very much a stay-at-home girl. I watched a lot of YouTube. During my gap year, I would housed once more with people like me, worked with people older than me but who generally shared my values, and that was of great encouragement. I did a tough job for no money and that gave me a passion and a vision that I hope to see flourish in the future.

University is different to my gap year in many ways, and I can't believe that when people told me it was a world like no other that I didn't believe them. You live alongside people that probably would have avoided you at school because you were weird, difficult personalities. I shared with a girl who I may never have crossed paths with elsewhere in life because our backgrounds were so different. Instead of being the person that retreated to their room, I worked alone but found myself beginning to crave social interaction, discussion, friendship on a deep level that mainly worked on a face-to-face basis because they were quite literally just down the hallway. Yes, it all got intense at times, and there were definitely some down moments when essays all piled up over a few weeks, but you were never alone. There was also the opportunity to try something new, and I've picked up old hobbies as well as new ones, once again filled with different people. I am doing a whole host of subjects and juggling it all is a right challenge, especially when, unlike my A Levels, I am not a reclusive workaholic who spends a lot of time alone, but also makes the time for hours of exercise and other pastimes. In this messy, busy, world, I have learnt a lot, and I intend to carry these lessons into the next term.



1) There Is Always Time.
When the essays rolled in and I saw all my deadlines for one week, I panicked big time. I wanted to stay up late, get up early, and generally not be kind to myself. I would push myself just a bit too hard, depriving myself of sleep. I would punish myself internally if I didn't feel like I had done enough. And it hit me at the end of it all, when all the deadlines were in, that there was always enough time to do what I wanted, sleep, chat with friends, exercise. I didn't have to be anxious about it, and in fact all those other things helped me to be more productive when I was awake. Sounds so simple, but for a perfectionist who is controlling and unkind to herself, a lesson well-learned. Yes, I might not be as hyper-organised as I would be in school, handing things in a week before, but I can do that same thing and be a little calmer.

2) Resting Is A Good Thing.
It is not the enemy of all things productive, nor is it always selfish. I had to be told far too many times in one particular week to rest. I didn't, and things went wrong. I cried a lot, but I did get given a muffin by one who was particularly sympathetic. You CAN get by with less sleep, but it doesn't mean you have to.

3) Look At What Is More Valuable.
Those marks for the essay that doesn't count? Yes, they are a useful indication of where you are heading, and they make you feel warm and fuzzy for a while, but they don't count. They really don't. I'm not saying I should slump into a thought process whereby I don't care about anything I produce (after all, I'm paying a lot for this!), but that I care and put effort into it, but don't stake my hopes on the result. The results I produce, my achievements, are not my true value. I am to seek meaning and value elsewhere and my time should reflect that. As a Christian, that means more time in prayer, seeking out friendships, looking to be compassionate and give my time sacrificially to serve others.

4) Let The Introvert Take Over Sometimes.
You don't have to enjoy always being around the constant stream of people, nor are you validated by doing so. I realised this term that I was becoming really conscious of how people saw me and tried to betray my personality by involving myself in things I wasn't too keen on. I was trying, for a time, not to do things with people outside of my halls so that I wouldn't lose friends. And I really have enjoyed this holidays being on my own, journalling more, and venturing out to see friends on my own terms rather than being barged in on and having to put up with someone for a few hours rather than just gently telling them that I would rather be alone.

5) Let Your Hair Down.
It's good to celebrate. And you, of all people, can do it sensibly and on your terms. Don't be so self-conscious, whack out that crazy dancing.

6) Embrace Brunch.
It might feel weird to come back from dance class on a Saturday morning to hash browns and beans, but you have no other choice really. And now they've replace your Sunday roast with it, too. So you had better get used to it.

Dressing up as Penny Pingleton. More of this next term.

The one day where I really went for it with brunch.

I've probably learnt even more than that, but this is the stuff that as I reflect on my first term that has really stuck. Hopefully, next term with my own room, things will be different in many ways. I can get up and not have to get dressed in the dark, go to bed with the lights off. Talk to myself. Sing to myself. It will be brilliant!

What has life been teaching you over the last few months?

-Antonia

Stuck in the Bubble

I didn't understand it when people said that returning to University was like returning to a Bubble, but now the only way I can describe University is a parallel universe. Honestly, I did not believe it when people said that it was so entirely different to any life you will ever have, and I did not expect it to be so all-encompassing and challenging in so many ways. Now, I find myself with a week to go, without any deadlines but still a lot of reading if I don't want my suitcase to weigh a tonne, and itching to get away. Not from the people, or the city, or the experience of learning and trying so many new things, but just from a world which doesn't feel quite real.

My section of my shared room at University

Last year, I faced the realities of everyday life in marginalised communities in London, and it was a wake up call. Foodbanks lie dear to my heart, as does issues of poverty, benefit sanctions, and community groups. Even in a city that seems to be pretty idyllic, since being here I have learnt that it is unique among the county and that there are parts where the lifespan decreases by 10-20 years in a ten-minute drive. Yet, I am part of a weird world where students complain about money yet rarely face the real problems of hunger, electricity, water, shelter. And they are hugely apathetic about the Foodbank collection in our post room, which only had one tin of food in the last time I checked. Many are incredibly ignorant of real situations in real lives, yet are some of the most intelligent people I have met. There are a few which have real hearts of compassion, real love and drive and have even set up this incredible organisation to get students involved in local charities that would otherwise struggle to get volunteers. I was thrilled when I found out about them, but disappointed in myself that apathy set in so quickly as I was swaddled up in a cradle of comfort, of meals in a fancy dining hall and my money going towards the next best event and making friends than my passion for community. Why does being a student exemplify me from being a part of society as a whole?

You can easily spend all day going from breakfast to the library, to a lecture, to lunch, to basketball practise, to your kitchen for a tea break, to your room, to dinner, to the library, to bed. Stuck in your bubble of friendship and intellect, afraid of missing out, branching out, and really considering what is important in life. Rarely considering other people outside of this alternative reality.

Some people say you have to embrace this world in which a week goes by so fast and yet everything evolves - you have hours and hours of knowledge crammed in, new people and the dynamics of the group of people that you see everyday seems to reform every hour. For me, it feels more like staying afloat and remembering my true identity and passions which exist outside of this maddening sensation of not being in the real world and losing some of the convictions most important to me. I feel threatened.

This makes out as if University has been a bad experience, and it undoubtedly has not. I've been surprised at how much I have loved it. I've really quite enjoyed learning again, discovering and rediscovering, becoming excited by the vastness of the classical world and the underlying features of novels and the new ways of reading theology. I've enjoyed weighty discussion. I've enjoyed taking up exercise more regularly in an atmosphere where it is encouraged even if you are really very bad (like me). I've enjoyed having people around to talk to over cups of tea. I've enjoyed meeting so many inspiring people through church and Christian Union who show such generosity and help to such a confused fresher, and learning through them how to stumble along in faith at University. But I've also felt smothered by the workload, smothered by the constant social expectations, none of which I would classify as being quite real.

University is bizzare and I don't understand it yet. It's a bubble which feels inescapable, but I'm sure that over Christmas I will miss it. No matter how much I complain and grumble, I still am living in a real world. It is just a world I hadn't really considered before, a world tainted with far more privilege and freedom than I am used to, and a world far further from home than I've ever been.

Eleven Months to Grow a Girl

A few years ago, at the ripe old age of 16 (ha!), I felt a strong call to do a gap year, to spend a year growing and learning and seeing where God could bring me as a person, use me for His glory and share His amazing story along the way. I did not know what that might look like and I certainly would never have imagined the past eleven months as they were back then. And now, I leave London with a greater vision, less fear of the future, a greater truth in God's purposes, a passion for building community, a more balanced life that is shaped by service rather than self-ambition, great friends, amazing mentors, and a rich rich thankfulness. I can't explain how this year has shaken me as a person in all aspects of my life, how it has made me wrestle with the way I live my life in an often painful way, and realigned my life to see greater things, greater plans and be ready for the future.

I remember when I was applying for University and I struggled to get excited about it. I didn't feel ready, I didn't want to learn for three years when I could be doing things, making an impact. I didn't want to be swept up in a culture that rid me of my current identity and once again forced me into thinking that knowledge, learning and achievements are what my identity rides on. Now, I feel ready. I have had a year of giving, learning, loving and I have a healthier perspective of what University can offer me and exactly why I am going. Yes, I want to get a degree which can give me access to better jobs and opportunities (although I am a big believer in alternative methods and explored many of them before finally deciding that to accept my place at University was the right thing for me) and I want to have the 'experience' that so many grads harp on about (although this year has been a wonderful experience also, and one I would not trade for an earlier graduation). But now I go knowing exactly what I want out of that experience, how I can serve and grow and learn and keep a healthy attitude to what really matters.

The past eleven months have grown me as a girl by forcing me into an adult world of adult problems. It forced me to work out the struggles of routine, of priorities, of living with people who won't make you dinner and wash your clothes and who hold you responsible for your own welfare (let's be honest, living at home is not the same), to think independently and to love in a deeper, richer and relentless way. The work I have done has been hard. I have been working in a highly skilled team who intimidated me for the first few months with their togetherness and social life, who showed me what it was to work hard but also the joys of rest, and got me out of my bubble of only hanging out with people my own age. I have been working in a community with cultural and age differences where prejudice is still rife and trying to unite them and cross those boundaries, loving people who are hard to love, serving them in their greatest need and putting up with their many character traits which are fraustrating as anything. I have taken responsibility and ownership for my work, building my own relationships in an environment that does not give you a handy mark scheme so you can see your progress or tick boxes like you can with an A Level essay.

I've also learnt little things like budgeting money (on a much tighter budget than Student Finance let me tell you!), and socialising! Yep, I was the girl who chose to spend pretty much all her Saturdays essay writing rather than working just that little bit harder in the week. I was rubbish at making plans and worried far too much about getting things done. I now feel confident just to grab a camera and walk around London, to meet friends after work (an evening out on a school night? Goodness gracious), to enjoy all the free and wonderful things London has to offer, including the company of my housemates. I have learnt to live in community with others rather than just shutting myself in my room for the day with my laptop and a bowl of pasta; I can cook a lot better, too!

Basically, life happened and forced me to grow up. I worked the hardest I have ever and faced real struggles, taking on the emotional pain of others, a broken heart for the poor and marginalised. I cried with the anxiety of taking upon myself the welfare of these people and cried out for strength to love these people and push aside my humiliation, awkwardness and fear. But alongside that, I came out wanting to do that full-time some day. To invest myself fully into a lifestyle that is shaped by sacrifice. But I know I have to grow a lot, lot more for it not to break me, and to do that job to the best of my ability, with a greater commitment and heart and passion.

The other day, I even referred to myself as a woman, and I think that is a pretty big deal.

-Antonia

The Dark Summer (That Changed My Life)

Ah, Summer. The time of year where to-do lists really get their time to shine as everyone promises themselves that they will have a barbeque, kiss in the rain, make lots of craft, hold down a job, stay out all night, meet new people, explore a forest...

It's also the time of year when endless blog posts come up about this, with people posting goals (whether it be for a bikini body, achievements or simply things they would like to do). Often, because of this, summer is treated as this golden period of opportunity where life is at its fullest, especially while you are still at school and the adrenaline of freedom kicks in. There are endless questions on how you will be spending summer and the thought of merely sitting at home is berated.

My experiences of summer have been varied but I can say that the best summers haven't been the ones where I have been on lots of holidays or explored the world around me, but the ones where I have grown, changed, matured and tried not only new things, but challenging things. The most memorable summer is the summer of 2009, the summer where I had no friends to hang out with other than my sister.

I had made a wrong move, lost all my friends and was living in guilt and shame. I wanted school to end badly but found myself even more isolated trapped inside my house. My only outings were with my sister to Shakeaway (I calculated that I spent around £40 on Shakeaway in the space of a few weeks that summer) where we would sing walking along the road and wear matching harem trousers. I watched a copious amount of TV but felt a real emptiness in my life. Yet I was moved. I was forced to confront the mistakes I had made which caused this dramatic cut off from community. Until that point, there was always someone to point the finger towards, someone who provoked what I had done. In a summer of loneliness I saw that I had been hiding behind that and exposed a lot of lies that I was believing about myself, others and the world around me. I had been believing that violence and anger were excusable reactions if provoked, that my insecurity absconded me from punishment, that paranoia was damaging my friendships and how I saw the world around me, that my heart and all its desires were set on all the wrong things. I was moved, I believe by God, to a state where I realised that I needed to be forgiven, and that I didn't need to work for it. I longed for my friends to show forgiveness to me as well as the forgiveness I believe that I already have received through faith. But then my thoughts progressed: I longed to have the strength and courage to forgive the friends who had given up on me, provoked me, made me feel insecure and paranoid and anxious, had failed to support me through my counselling and therapy and who I didn't trust enough to tell them how I was feeling. I longed to repair relationships, to regain confidence in my abilities and release anxieties that were weighing me down.

I found that at the foot of a cross and it changed me. Never before had pain brought me such joy. It is a dark summer that ended in light.

I remember the first day at school when we got our timetables and the girl who I had directed my violence at the June before was in around two thirds of my classes. I braced myself for a hard year of proving myself and trying really hard to change but there was something else working which released me from that responsibility. A few nights later, a facebook friend request that had earlier been denied set my heart on fire. Forgiveness was mine. Friendship was restored. Faith became real and exciting.

I was baptised the next January and a journey began that took me to other summers on beaches in Wales that stirred up a heart in me to take 'good news' to London, to walk over Tower Bridge everyday to embark on a journey to the East side to serve lattes and engage with community. Five years after the dark summer, my life is changed and renewed and my faith is as real and exciting as ever.

Maybe your summer is shaping up well, maybe it is looking miserable. Don't romanticise summer as if it is a magical period of contentment and happiness - it surely won't live up to it and be filled with more boredom that BBQ's I'm sure. Summer is a chance, if you have the time or invest in the time, to search your soul and find what is wanting. It might be a qualification, an experience of volunteering, a friendship that has been slack, it might be rest. It might be discovering what true hope and life is once all the routine and rhythms have been removed. I hope that you will find it where I did.

-Antonia

Nine month review // May - June

It’s getting to the point where each month blurs into the other: the rhythm of life has become so smooth and slick that I barely notice as time passes away and I head further and further towards my leaving date. I can’t remember what was in this month and last month and frankly my emotions have been so high and low over the past few weeks that it feels like a month in itself! I want to apologise for having not blogged a little more but frankly I’ve been horrendous at updating all my social medias over the last month (Instagram in particular suffered a sad neglect as suddenly my photo-taking suffered an unprecedented drop), and it’s just a little fun for me and so I shouldn’t feel pressured or guilty for not doing so. This month has been a very reflective one as I look towards the end and towards new beginnings once again, and how all the pieces of my life at the moment might carry through to my life at University once it begins in September. My world will temporarily return to what I have known when I move back with my parents for all of seven weeks and then I will return to education in this weird place up North where there are no sirens before bed and people of my own age everywhere and books to read and no tube sweat. I’ve got a whole new environment to adapt to ahead and looking back on these reviews is reminding me on how far I’ve come this year, how much I’ve learnt and how capable I am to do so.

There is a distinct lack of pictures this month due to business and general laziness. This makes me sad because I love photography and have lost my groove with it this month. So, somehow, words will have to made do, especially since the photos I did take aren't too high quality and seem to be butchered as soon as they make it online, no matter how I edit them.

1) Weirdest thing you have seen in London this month?
Every month I make a mental note about the answer to this and by the time I come to blog, completely forget it. The problem is, I think, that in London you see so many strange happenings that they pass you by. On an inspiring note, I saw a huge group of people cycling for Help the Heroes last Sunday over Tower Bridge.

2) Particular highlights of this month?
By far I think a highlight has been doing a trip to see a few friends at different Universities and getting out of London for a while at a time where I was feeling a little under pressure and really missing familiar faces. I didn’t get to catch up with some of them as I would have liked over their Easter break because of timing so it was great to spend 24 hours with a few people watching films, exploring their campus’ and generally having a natter. I went to the cutest cafe that was Alice in Wonderland themes and ate Walnut cake (one of my faves), ate very nice but largely unhealthy food, drank tea, went to the most hipster Costa coffee I have seen and stayed up later than I have all year. I was tired and exhausted by the time I returned to London but simply taking a glimpse into my friends lives was so worth it. It made me wish that I had made the time to do it sooner and more frequently over the year. It was a three day escapade that made me excited for more times with my school friends over summer.

This concoction was made by my friend when I stayed with her in halls. It has salmon on it. Student life is not what I thought it would be. 

I have also been enjoying the sunshine this month, especially at breakfast time when I can explore our small, overgrown garden and on Sundays where I always have the afternoons free to sit in the local churchyard and hang out with my housemates or read, all crammed on one blanket. I’m not too good with the heat so I don’t last long and eventually retreat to the cool air of my bedroom but getting out of those four walls during the more rainy periods of May has been lovely.

The flowers and reflections found in our small garden - someone's been secretly hard at work!

I also went to the British Museum last Saturday with a friend which was fascinating. I haven’t been to the British Museum for a good year and a half and that was for a special Shakespeare exhibition so going there to see the more permanent exhibits was very worthwhile. We barely made a dent on the museum and were there until we felt our legs were going to drop off so it is worth a return. I also spent a Saturday with my mum this month, trundling along Oxford Street in the search of some clothes suitable for this hot weather. I don’t necessarily miss living at home but I do miss seeing my family more regularly and love the fact that I am only a short train ride away if they wanted to see me. It’s going to be hard when I move a four hour train journey away in September and won’t see them for over two months. In terms of mid-week treats, seeing Maleficent was definitely a good choice, and free because my housemate kindly paid with her Odeon loyalty points. I am very picky about films that I see and this definitely exceeded my expectations, the graphics and cinematography were beautiful and Angelina Jolie had so much poise.

I often find the ceilings of museums more fascinating that the artefacts inside them. The majority of my photos from the British museum confirm this.

3) Favourite part of your work this month?
The introduction of iced latte and Iced tea has been a welcome one, and I am, frankly, a little bit obsessed. I have been relishing all things cafe culture this month as I seek work in a coffee shop and I think that I identify as a coffee snob now.

4) Least favourite part of your work this month?
My routine has been interrupted somewhat with new arrivals and volunteers and I suppose that this late on in my year, I am not coping well with change, especially if I feel like my roles are being taken away from me that I really enjoy or was looking forward to be a part of. I have limited time left and I want to squeeze all the goodness out of it possible!

5) Hardest part of your work this month?
One thing I have learned about myself this month is that I pile unnecessary pressure on myself which is unhealthy and drives me into anxiety and worry over things that don’t exist (like this blog readership). In short, I exhausted myself by inactivity because in my quiet moments my worries drove me to nothing, and then I felt guilty, and then I was stuck. It all stems from a mindset that I have as a woman of ambition who constantly strives to be more in all things but finds herself helplessly falling short of it and being sent into despair, losing my core identity and all motivation. I found myself feeling tired and grumpy doing a job I loved and then feeling guilty that I wasn’t doing my job well because I was tired and grumpy with all my worries about nothing and non-existent pressure. It’s been a tough ride, but I have finally rested myself. Just about. Maybe.

... and this pear and walnut cake certainly helped to lift my mood at the end of the day!

6) Would you kindly sum up your working month in three alliterative words/phrases?
Inspiring, Innovating, Iced! The first two words refer to a lot of exciting changes which I believe will take everything forward, inspiring new people joining the team and all the envisioning going on among my personal team. It’s just a shame I won’t be there to drink it all in as it happens.

7) Weird habits developed this month?
This month hasn’t been too weird and I haven’t had many fads. I suppose my biggest habit this month has been obsessively watching Nashville and rewatching Heroes. I am glad this is coming to an end so that I can finish those books I never finished last month and those which I have started reading this month. I have also fallen back into my summer habit of eating ice cubes, which is especially hard at work when we have an ice cube maker staring at me all day and all I want to do is fill a bowl with ice and crunch it. Yep.

8) What are you missing most about home this month?
I feel like this answer is a culminating of all the answers that I have put all year: my friends, my family, and the silence and privacy of being able to step outside and go for a walk without there being people everywhere you go. I have grown to be intolerant of tourists even though I still feel like one. And, more superficially, I miss the income my paper round used to bring in and feeling like I had my own money to spend on things other than food and travel. One of the most irritating things about this year has been having the whole of London to explore yet not having the money to do it: every day out means lunch has to be accounted for or you end up hauling round food and drink on the tube. I’ve been keen to go to the Tower of London all year but it takes a huge chunk out of my money right now. Even if I do find things that I want to do, I miss having all the friends to do it with who will enjoy it just as much and make spending the money worth it. No one in my house is into art and so I go to galleries alone which can be a pretty isolating experience on a Saturday. 

Even though London might be expensive, sunsets and architecture are free. Winning combination! Taken at a bus stop in Aldgate.

9) Best Housemate moment?
Celebrating one of my housemate’s birthdays with a curry and company. We spent the evening playing stupid games in our living room and having one of the funniest evenings in a while. Just taking that time for around ten of us to sit round a table is rare and special. Like I said last month, I am appreciating all the time we are spending just chilling out together in the evenings having a chat or watching a film, eating dinner together. As much as I enjoy our little outings (and we have a great one planned for a few weeks’ time) those times are the times which make the difference to your week and mood and I am grateful for them. I am anticipating many more evenings together as world cup season approaches!

The best rosetta I have made all year!

10) Discoveries this month?
Using the depop app to find cheap, second hand clothing (I bought a beautiful bag for £6 - can't go too wrong!); how GOOD the avocado and green bean salad is in Nandos; the aforementioned British Museum; vscocam editing app; Iced lattes; one-pot cous cous; this beautiful etsy shop where I recently bought a new laptop bag in preparation for University.

Hope this has helped you to reflect on all the little and big things in your months, too. It is certainly helping me to remember things that so easily would have passed me by this year.

-Antonia

Eight Month Review // April - May

Although this hasn't been a ‘proper’ month of work as I have had my Easter time off, I have so little time left of my adventures in London that it feels extra important to document as much as I can of it before I forget. I have realised that no matter how hard I tried to remember everyone who I meet who was in need, or how I really felt when I first moved, or every funny moment that happened in London, the pace of life has chucked most of it out. Maybe our brain holds onto more than we search for which is why we need so many reminders: our past writings, our social media, our pictures and videos. And this is another! Even in my journal I do not comprehensibly write out parts of my life or things I have been doing so looking back on these allows me to see how much I’ve grown and remember all the amazing things that I have done this year, all the moments of friendship shared with old friends and new, all the moments of hardship that I have overcome or have been seasons which I have come out of the other side stronger for. I have reached the point where I have realised that this life I live now and am starting to thrive off will come to an end and it will be all change once more in October. More awkward beginnings to new friendships, settling back into a life where all my food is cooked for me (at least for my first year), moving to a new place (goodness gracious, the far north!) and actually having little routine compared to now. But since I still have three of these to go, I’d better stop thinking about the end and reminisce on the last month!

1) Weirdest thing you have seen in London this month?

I was walking home and saw a group of men all wearing those hats that hold two beers on either side. It made me chuckle because at first I thought that they looked like they were wearing Santa outfits in May and then because I thought that the contraption on their head made it look like they had antlers. I suppose one of the weirdest things also has to be the fact that one day my housemates and I all strolled down a busy main road with pans of soup, bowls of food and plates to the local park to eat dinner, just because we fancied it.

2) Particular highlights of this month?

I was off work for one week, which was a highlight in some respects: it allowed me to meet up for coffee with two of my closest friends and catch up with them. I miss both of them so much and it is so much harder to keep in contact with even your close friends when life is so busy and I am so lazy. Two of my friends from school also had a joint birthday picnic on my first Saturday back which was lovely but short-lived. Everyone brought food, and there was certainly an excess of strawberries which I took full advantage of, especially since they were chocolate covered. Annoyingly, I had just come back from a work trip to a conference two days before and had had a busy day on Good Friday (which was the day before) and was almost too shattered to really make the most of the fact that all of my friends were in one place as used to be so often the case. I just felt a bit overwhelmed and for this reason was part of a small party that went home early. Nevertheless, it was amazing to see that everyone was well, that everyone was enjoying the new stages in their lives and that in many ways old friendships were still going strong.

In my week off I also enjoyed the novelty of resting! I managed to read quite a few books that I had half-started before, but also less productively watched a whole season of New Girl. By the end of the week I was itching to get back to work because I felt so lazy. Since returning to London town I have enjoyed my first trip to Five Guys for my housemates birthday and made more than good use of their coca-cola machine as we concocted different flavours and tried to guess what was in the cup. Their chip portions are amazing (you don’t need any bigger than a regular) and you get free peanuts, too: I was sold. After this I returned to Trafalgar Square and we climbed Nelson’s column (as far as one can) and jumped onto the lions which guard it. It was a time full of ridiculous selfies and an evening well spent. I also spent the majority of the bank holiday weekend with my housemates. We went to the Southbank in the hope of free food from the excess amount of food stalls but ended up being crushed and faced with monstrous queues. Though our plan didn’t exactly work out we took the time to walk and talk as we walked along the river in the sunshine before heading off to go to One New Change at St Pauls: I had been there before but only in the dark and have to say that it is much better in the day as you aren’t greeted with a polluted skyline but a clear view of London for free! We then attempted to get some reduced fruit at Borough Market on our way home but failed. It was lovely just to take time in London walking around, appreciating the sunshine and drinking in our surroundings: too often people feel preoccupied in doing things that you don’t actually talk to who you are with or take notice of where you are.

This last weekend has been a favourite, as I met up with some friends from school who I hadn’t spoken to in ages. We sat in Camden Coffee House’s little garden round the back until it chucked it down with rain, and then in the downstairs of the coffee shop itself for hours before moving round to explore Camden. The rain scuppered our plans to go to Regent’s park and to enjoy the stalls properly (as did our lack of funds) so we dived into a Chinese restaurant where you sat on a cushion on the floor and then dangled your legs down into a hole in the floor where the table legs were. It was highly weird and when the waiters came over to take your order, you suddenly felt very small! We then got trapped in the rain (again) and decided to call out outside ramblings a day and headed off to Patisserie Valerie to eat cake and grab another coffee. This lasted another three and a half hours and it was honestly a really precious and rare time for me that I really treasure as I go into my week. It is a shame that these days are so occasional but it means that I appreciate these old friends even more and can celebrate in how their lives are evolving, changing and how they are growing as people. I didn’t get any pictures of this even though I dragged my camera around all day simply because I was enjoying their company so much. Times like that are worth not piercing with the glare of a camera lens and a pressure to smile.

3) Favourite part of your work this month?

Ah, it’s good to be back. I read a book called “Every Good Endeavour” by Tim Keller over my break and it revolutionised the way I approached the less-favourable tasks in my work such as the Monday morning cleaning, packing away deliveries etc. which can all be far too physical for a Monday morning! We also had loads of time to get out into the community and connect with lots of different people that we hadn’t seen for two weeks with us being away and having no time in the week before that. It’s a part of my work which I really value and sometimes if things are too busy in the running of the cafe we really have a limited time. I also got myself back into making coffees (how I missed getting it for free – I’m not paying £3 for that, thank you!) and perfecting my latte art. I have also been taking walks home for the last few weeks which has been a nice refreshing end to each day, especially since I have taken the opportunity to explore the posher side to where I work which is closer to the Thames and has all this amazing architecture to it, as well as cobbled streets (I do love a cobbled street). It’s a lot nicer than walking along the cycle highway!

This month has also been a more successful month for my latte art. I don't get as much time to practise as I would like so was stunned when I absent mindedly created this for myself one lunchtime!

Perks of working at a cafe: free Apple & Cinnamon cake. It is our fastest selling cake and freshly made and one of the only things the staff will willingly pay out for.

4) Least favourite part of your work this month?

Part of my work involved going to lectures and I suppose that I only realised that the amount of work is getting bigger and bigger a few days ago. We have lots of reading to do each week, coursework due and an exam to prepare for in June while we are still doing all the learning for it. It has the potential to be stressful if I don’t get on top of things soon and fitting it all around a 9-5 job which can be quite physically and emotionally draining doesn’t exactly motivate me when I could be in the lounge having a laugh with my housemates or watching a film together.

5) Hardest part of your work this month?

I think from now on it will be the lack of free time in the evenings and possibly weekends: especially when we are getting some glorious sunshine now! Also I think carrying some people’s emotional turmoil can be hard. We don’t just treat those we visit as clients who we need to find jobs for or help out on a surface level: we come alongside them as friends and get personal. It is a risk that we take so that we can share our lives with them and the most important thing in our lives: our faith in Christ. We are still struggling along with this lady who we have done so much for and who sometimes stubbornly doesn’t listen to our advice because she wants to go her own way – a way which we see doesn’t lead to the security which she desperately needs when her benefits inevitably run dry.

6) Would you kindly sum up your working month in three alliterative words/phrases?

Chuckles, chaos, chipper. Do love me some British slang. Do love me some words beginning with the sound 'ch'!

7) Weird habits developed this month?

Starting to read too many books and then, after about a week, neglecting them. I managed to finish two of them but then just starting three more within days of one another and now I find it hard to chose which one to read in the evening. I don't know why this has happened but I do know that now I don't feel like I can favour one book or another, so they will have to go on a rotation and I will have to finish them all at the same time.

8) What are you missing the most about home this month?

My sister! Her texts telling me of how she wants to squish Prince George are hilarious and I found the birthday card she gave me last year which had such witty comments inside and it made my day. I’ve had a bit of time to hang out with her but always among other family. It also makes me sad that she has just started her GCSE’s and I can’t be there for her in person, because I remember how stressed I was and how much I relied on the support of my family and even her, though she knew little of how I felt. I guess I’m now also missing my friends now I’ve ‘tasted and seen’ them (sounds weird, doesn’t it?) and the people that I was especially closest to.

9) Best housemate moment?

I feel like hanging out with my housemates that bit more this month has really lifted my mood – and not even going out with them but just those conversations on the sofa in the evening, reading our Bibles together in Potter’s Field (right by the River) and joking about funny town names or names of people in Biblical times, cooking together, eating breakfast together. It is the little things that make a big difference. I feel especially closer to another housemate than I have before this month and that is always lurvely. We also had our last house birthday yesterday and we had such a lovely evening eating, chatting, laughing in a very undignified manner (snorting and table slapping involved) and generally messing about. Many of us didn’t see one another for 3 weeks so it was good to have another big get together other than the Five Guys trip to just enjoy one another’s company.

10) Discoveries this month?

I finally bought the Of Monsters and Men album (it was £2!) and it is excellent and perfectly smooth and uplifting for walking home as the sun sets. Gosh, my life is a cliché at the moment! Also discovered are: agirlcalledjack.com (amazing cheap recipes, all costed out – how did I cook on budget before?); Five Guys; my lack of ability to read one book at a time (currently reading 3); soya milk; Camden Coffee house; Camden Market; the wonders of soundcloud.

... and on the note of Soundcloud, here is a song I have been loving. I have generally been loving listening to instrumentals since working at a cafe full of artist hipsters who play the most amazing remixes. This one I found all by myself and contains few lyrics but it just makes me feel hugely chilled out, like I want to pull up a deckchair and sit in the sun. Alas!

How has your month been? Hope you've had some amazing moments of friendship, too.

-Antonia

Giving

Recently I have been struck by the power of giving. In the work that I am doing, a lady who faces debt and has next to nothing was intent on showing us hospitality, on making us a meal to show her thanks for our friendship to her, the way we have cared and looked out for her. The urge to give was greater to her than her economic need. Some might call that foolish, and we did spend a lot of time trying to dissuade her until she became offended that we didn't want to come. Culturally, our rejection of that gift was also a rejection of her friendship, even though it was with the best intentions.

As I pondered this, I realised that if I were in the same situation, I would not have been inclined to think the same way. I probably would have spiralled into self-pity and expected others to help me. I certainly wouldn't have gone out of my way to give to someone if I barely had money to keep myself financially stable. Indeed, I am not in that situation at all and yet I fail to give as much as I can. It was when I realised this that I remembered that I hadn't given blood in six months and within the next two weeks booked to give blood.

The only time that I could do so was on a Monday afternoon in a mobile vehicle in the Asda car park on the Old Kent Road. I was more used to a comfy bed in a church hall, but this was a cramped caravan which rocked every time someone got on and off the vehicle, meaning that the needle moved inside my vein. It was probably the least pleasant blood-giving experience I have had, and it took about three hours including travelling there and back on the bus, standing in line for the blood test, waiting for a bed to be free, for my blood to be taken, and for me to finish my packet of crisps to make sure I didn't faint as the woman before me had. Even as I vowed to myself that I would never do that again, I still realised that the time I had put it and the blood I have given (especially as an O- blood type) would be valuable in saving someone's life. I quickly remembered that the point of giving, whether it be your time, your money, your blood, your energy, your listening, is never so that you can get something out of it, or have a nice experience, or experience that lovely feeling. Sometimes that feeling doesn't really come! The point of giving is to do it with joy in spite of whether you benefit from it or now, knowing that it serving another human. To an extent, giving is sacrificial at heart, but it is no worthy sacrifice if done begrudgingly.

I know that the thing I am worst at giving is my time. I hate wasting time if I feel like I could have done something productive, and even more so if it costs me money while I was doing it. Yesterday, I had to push all these instincts to one side. I walked for half of my journey to meet a friend to avoid a bus fare, leaving ridiculously early in the morning to do so. I ended up staying with her for a lot longer than I intended, which scuppered all my carefully timetabled travels. I then spent over an hour on public transport crossing from Zone 5 to Zone 1 (which in London is expensive!) in order to pick up a gift for someone and repay someone some money. It wasn't necessary to have done it that week, but I felt compelled in my responsibility to give and to show love and care to those people; I simply had to do it. When I arrived, I couldn't find the gift. I thought that all my careful planning and worrying was in vain. After about 45 minutes, it was retrieved. It took me an hour and a half to get home on public transport. I had been out for 9 hours by the time I got back and had 'achieved' very little in that time. On the surface, it was a wasted day. But I knew in those hours of travelling, walking to avoid fares, worrying over everything that I was doing it not for myself but for the sake of others.

I wasn't, however, much in the mood to make my family dinner, so I still have a lot of work to do!

How do you like to show the power of giving to others in your life?

-Antonia