Leaving, moving, arriving – the ongoing call

We are a called family – we all are, I know; called to live out our faith, to follow our beliefs with our words and actions – and for us this means holding lightly knowing we are never to stay in one place forever at the same time as embedding into every new community we become part of. We have this pattern, this (demanding and painful) rhythm of leave, move, arrive – and settle. And right now we are at another new beginning, the settle stage.

Last month we said goodbye to the church, the ministry of chaplaincy at the school, and the voluntary roles in the community that had become part of our pattern of life. And we have moved. Just half an hour away, to a new community, new church and new schools to live alongside and become part of.

The demands are obvious. Goodbye’s are painful when relationships are genuine, and serving is passionately given. Our calling is not easily and neatly in a box, or only certain parts of our daily life in a community it is all or nothing for us. When we settle we’re all in, wholehearted. We may have many roles, many hats to wear, but we’re our true selves offered in service through it all. The letting go of all that you’ve ended up carrying with others is tough, the stepping out of the journey you have been travelling alongside others feels abrupt – and trust that God’s got this (for you and for them) has to be grabbed and held onto – and often I need reminding.

The demands of the logistics of moving are also obvious, and I’m always thankful that the CofE help us by paying for a removal company to pack for us. Of course we still face all the unpacking, but somehow that’s easier – it simply has to be done! Moving as a neurodiverse family has its own challenges too, and perhaps sharpens our sense of priorities on arriving. Some parts of the house need to quickly be visually ordered and ‘normal’ to bring anxiety back nearer to manageable levels, and there are certain things to make sure we quickly locate and get back out of boxes and into use to enable all the rest to happen – chargers, laptops, melatonin, certain blankets, certain mugs, the animal’s bits & bobs so they are settled ready to settle the rest of everyone.

It can be difficult to process the process of moving – that our things have been touched by strangers, may smell different, may have been folded differently or put next to other things that they don’t belong next to. These things matter, and are tough to get through. It can be difficult to visualize ahead the feelings of it all, and the realities of the process of living out of boxes, not having the furniture ‘just right’ yet, the constant shifting and shuffling of things as you try to find the best arrangements and cupboards for everything to run smoothly. There is a necessity for many things to have to be ‘for now let’s do it this way’ or ‘tonight lets eat here’, ‘can you make do with… just till we get ….sorted?’, ‘can we wear… we haven’t managed to wash…that you’re asking for’. All of these little realities of moving are really hard work – they are exhausting, and they build anxieties and hurdles into every day in the short term. Imagine each of these (and so many more) conversations as intense, anxiety triggering negotiations for all of us, and they happen all day every day for a little while.

Thankfully we can now see the end in sight – the number of boxes still left can be counted (that’s a good start), the list of DIY jobs is less overwhelming (though for now there is still an upstairs windowsill acting as a tool store for easy access!), and the practicalities of moving is now not the only thing we’re doing every day – hooray!

Its never easy, but I feel bursting with pride. We’ve pulled together as a family and we’re doing it!! We’ve travelled here in our car with all the animals on knees and in the boot; we’ve found bedding in the dark and made beds up by torch light; we’ve managed to laugh as we’ve eaten take away off paper plates, and had to use camping cutlery; we’ve persevered together with flat pack furniture – and come away still talking to each other; we’ve encouraged each other and given and received squeezy hugs as needed; we’ve found school clothes on time, found 2 parks for dog walks, cooked for a family visit, managed shopping, and have all sat together in among our new church family for Andrew’s welcome service – yes you read that right, we all got there – out of the house, physically in the church building – and are still standing!!! So proud of us.

Recreation

Amazing what a difference it can make to get away from the routines! I was treated to a day out walking in Derbyshire with A. Now he can drive there are new opportunities for Mum-Son outings.

So we walked, and put the world to rights.

We climbed and scrambled and breathed in the views.

We had time to sit and take stock. And we wondered at creation, and pondered our inherent need to search for all that’s beyond ourselves and to ground ourselves in that narrative as people throughout history, in every culture have reached for God.

God’s eternal power and character cannot be seen. But from the beginning of creation, God has shown what these are like by all he has made. (Romans 1:20)

Of course we found a perfect place for cake and tea, in beautiful surroundings.

Rest matters. We need head-space, moments to regroup our thoughts and gather ourselves in the midst of so many demands and pulls on our attention. To breathe.

Synesthesia – colourful worship

Well, we’ve just managed to get our tents and camping gear all cleaned, dried and away for another year – yes it’s been New Wine time. It was wet, windy, very muddy and we connected with friends, made new friends and had space to go deeper with God.

One of the things that has really got me thinking is a fairly short conversation we had together as a group under the gazebo after tea one afternoon. We got chatting about our experiences of the worship times – always quite amazing to be among so many all praising or praying together, and I asked the question whether we could put into words what is actually going on for each of us internally – what exactly is our experience, what do we sense, how are we processing when we pray or when we worship? Were we all experiencing encounters with God in similar ways or not?

I guess I was imagining straight away that it wouldn’t be the same for all of us, but as the conversation got going it was clear that individuals’ experiences were wildly different. And the way we articulated what was happening inside during prayer or worship was fascinating. One person talked of many layers happening in parallel, emotions, words and meanings, God’s presence. Some visualized things and people being prayed for, others didn’t at all. Some somehow visualized their being with God, some said they never encountered God in that visual way at all.

This is something that truly captures my imagination and interest. Of course, we’re all unique; yes of course God created each one of us, and knows how we sense and process not only the world that is tangible, audible and visible around us but also how we sense and process the internal and the spiritual. He knows just how to meet and be with each unique person in the way they tick – the way their brain is wired, and how experience has shaped them – and he takes each of us deeper, out of that familiar place into more.

It particularly fascinates me because I, and many of the females on my side of the family ‘have’ synesthesia – the way we’re wired means that experiencing one sense cannot ever be disconnected from another sense. For me reading letters and numbers, without giving it a thought, consistently means seeing in colour and texture. This is sometimes helpful, sometimes a total distraction form the meaning everyone else is prioritizing, sometimes it is quite frankly hard work. For example last year when I was 47 I struggled whenever my age was mentioned or I had to write it down because it was the colour and texture of phlegmy cat sick, and was not at all grounded – I’m so relived to have got a year older so that now my age is a more solid and grounded aged brick red, I can live with that!

Not only does this happen with reading numbers and letters but sounds also come in full colour and texture for me too. This can become quite something when in a busy noisy place. It also shapes how I experience worship. For me sung worship is always the colours and shapes of the music, and the words being sung combined with the meaning and intention and emotion. Congregational singing is a colourful experience, each person adding to the strength and shape of the ‘sound-colour-wind-wave’ shape, fluid and organic, ever changing – in a way that’s hard to put into words it becomes an entity of its own coming out from us to God, and God by His Spirit moving , dancing, rejoicing in the praise itself and meeting each person in that encounter. One time in a large arena full of worshiping Christians singing praise, the moment was just beautifully red and gold – it was bold and strong, and I believe that through the Holy Spirit I was able to see that over the top of this red and gold sea Jesus was riding in victory, circling the arena over and over, free and victorious, triumphant.

There have been many other encounters like this similarly colourful and visual, and quite often God meets me by inviting me into the scene and letting me walk with him or watch him at work.

Yes I know, it does sound crazy written down… and yes I know this isn’t the way everyone experiences worship or prayer (yes prayer for me is also visual, colourful, textured), but what struck me was just how little we talk together about what what we experience – giving space for words to be found to describe the human experience of the divine encounter. I think it would encourage the church no end if we did.

I’d love to hear how you would describe your experience of worship, or of prayer. Do leave a comment.

sensory visuals for worship

I’ve set myself the task of trying to get an idea out of my head and make it reality during the summer break. We are putting together some ‘worship together in the pews’ bags for people coming to church with babies & pre-school children. Of course I immediately want them to include some tactile visuals helping young children learn to navigate worship and identify the different elements that shape our worship.

What I’ve come up with as a starting point is one of those small ‘blankies’ with tags round the edge that babies love to hold and play with. Soft cotton, with wadding in-between so it has a satisfying squish to it.

I have lots of scraps of felt so I cut large colourful dots to applique on, and set to the task of embroidering the basic building blocks of worship onto them, making them tactile, colourful – and with words too for parents or grandparents to be sure they know what each symbol is!

Of course, I’ve no particular skill in sewing – and my embroidery is completely by eye rather than well planned out but as an idea I like it. Now I just need to decide on where to place them on the blanket and get them sewed on.

They could be in order like a visual timetable but given the size and shape – and the variations in services that we have – I think it will end up being more like an I spy challenge where each building block is spotted and pointed out as the service progresses. Those with a keen eye will notice that 2 blankets are in progress, and I’m thinking for the second the dots will have things to look out for in the church during the service that will also help spark conversation between carer and child about what worship is all about.

Also in the bags we’re imagining a young child friendly book of Bible stories that’s lovely for small hands to hold, and inviting for small people’s big imaginations, that can be used during the Bible reading. And some activities that can be an invitation to pray. Of course there’ll also be some quiet fidgets suitable for babies, perhaps I need to create a worship themed tactile busy book?!

Do you have similar bags available where you worship? What is in them? Any ideas welcome!!

As for these I’ll keep you posted.

Porter news

This last 18 months in the Porter household has been challenging, and I find myself with a moment to pause and the energy to write so I thought I’d post some updates.

So I have coffee, and chocolate and probably a couple of minutes of uninterrupted thinking time! Here goes…

I’ll begin with A, who finished A-levels last academic year and took up a place at Cambridge University to study Modern & Medieval languages – Spanish & Italian. He’s now completed year one and is back at home meeting up with friends and travelling for the summer.

B has been at home with us and has welcomed a new arrival into our household – the gorgeous, and rather cheeky puppy ‘Kai’. So there is training, bathing, vet visits, playing, zooming around in the garden and lots of cuddles to fit into each week. But look at that face – irresistible!

Of course, Kai has grown fast, now over one and pushing boundaries as she continues maturing. But she’s a quick learner, and very intuitive so we’re keeping on with the training – B taking the lead & the rest of us ready to support.

So, T – well it’s been quite a year and a bit. T reached the end of Primary school and transitioned to our Secondary school, where I work. We knew this would be incredibly challenging for her, and so had started the process of securing an EHCP (Education and Health Care Plan). During Autumn term we were turned down for an EHCP assessment and filled in paper work to take the LEA to tribunal. The LEA conceded before the tribunal hearing and the process of assessment began. Meanwhile T was struggling to cope with the number of challenges, sensory and expectations of Secondary. There are so many teachers and classrooms to adjust to, so many times a day to move through the building alongside so many other students, worries about homework, toilets, friends, timings, eating in the lunch hall. She was getting burned out very quickly and attendance was dropping rapidly.

The assessment process resulted in an EHCP written well – a miracle – but naming the same Secondary school as her provision. By this time T had been completely out of school for a few months and unable even to cope with the bare minimum reduced timetable of getting through the school doors to meet a key worker for an hour each day. I filled in tribunal paperwork again to ask the LEA to reconsider the named provision. There is a specialist school nearby, with experience and expertise in social and communication differences where she would be supported by staff fully aware of the sensory needs and the effects of demands on T. After submitting the application for tribunal we were granted a hearing in Feb 2024 – but we pushed, and Andrew wrote to our local MP for support to move things forward. Amazingly, against all the odds the LEA reassessed and has agreed to name the specialist school. The school themselves in the meantime had been preparing a space for T and so after half term just gone we were able to begin the process of transitioning into the school. Starting from the premise that we need to go slow, and build trust – and try not to have to take steps back too often, we have been able to get T through the doors of the school when invited. She is communicating with her key worker, is settling into her room, loves the therapy dog ‘Bella’ and is just beginning to meet other students and engage in some learning activities again. She even managed to eat there this week!

It’s been a lot for all of us. It’s tested us, and we’ve reached tiredness we haven’t before – now that’s saying something. But God has so clearly been at work providing what we have needed, along the way and now as T settles into this school which flexes around her and fits like a glove. I have felt so supported by my work colleagues at the Secondary school where I am Chaplain through all the ups and downs, the failures and triumphs of this last academic year.

So – as you can imagine it’s been full on for Andrew & myself since I was last able to update you all – and I am hopeful that we are turning a corner with some of the latest intense craziness – of course we are the Porters, there’s always some to be found! But ministry continues; in the school where we have been welcoming around 60-70 to opt-in worship services twice a half term, and I am able to come alongside so many young people to encourage and to listen; in the community (still loving being involved in Girlguiding, making a safe space for girls to develop their confidence, skills and faiths) and in the church here with all the different groups and ministries; and of course at home through patience and imagination, listening and growing.