A Walk To Remember

Today had seemed to be just another Sunday. Church in the morning, lunch at the Cottee's (a fairly regular occurrence) and church in the evening. That was the plan. Granted, there were more than a few tears, as you would expect from a church mourning the loss of a deeply valued member, but nothing more. I'll be honest, I found this morning's meeting extremely difficult. Again, the 'how dare I be this upset about Annie's death? I don't deserve to be...' feeling emerged, which only made things worse - but that was only fleeting. The time at the Cottee's house was (as always) brilliant, but something unusual happened today. I decided to walk home.

Now, now. Hold your shock. Dawid Niemiec had my keys, and I didn't really want to get a lift from anyone. In truth, a walk didn't seem like such a bad idea. Lots to process and all that.

It's around three miles from the Cottee's home to my own, and incredibly scenic. Pictures below:

It was probably the most therapeutic walk home I've ever had. The views were staggering; the weather was phenomenal - that on its own would have been enough to make the journey home a good one. However, it just so happens that in the three miles that connect the two houses, many of my most treasured memories reside.

I remembered jogging up and down this road on a regular basis, until my legs were weak, and my lungs felt like they were giving up on me. I needed to. After all, I was going to play rugby for England, so I needed to be fit. This road remembers that determination. Further on, I remembered one of the best conversations I think I've ever had. Lounging in the shade beneath the trees, I remember discussing what my house would look like, what I would do when I finished university, what my children would be called. This road remembers my hopes and dreams. I remembered one of the first kisses I'd ever experienced as I walked past the hallowed ground; an idyllic footpath hidden from onlookers - that's important when you're fourteen you know. This road remembers the naivety of that teenage romance. Today it simply reminded me that it still did.

Today this road became aware of Annie. It became aware of who she was, how she impacted people and all the things I should've said to her but couldn't quite summon the courage to when the opportunity arose. Today, this road will remember my tears at twenty-one and my conversation with God as I simply asked: "why did you choose this girl at this time?!" In the future, this road will remind me, just as God did today, that the Lord knows the plans he has for me. That my God has plans to give me hope, plans to give me a future. That irrespective of my lack of understanding, good will come from this. In the future, this road will remind me of the excitement I felt today as I put my grief and my questioning aside and looked at the sensational impact that Annie's life has had, as well as the posthumous impact it is still having and will continue to have in the future.

Today this road will remember how I dealt with a lot of things as I walked from one house to another. It will remember how I stopped questioning God; stopped questioning unalterable events and started honouring Annie's memory by worshipping God with a passion and fervour that I've never had before. Today was a walk to remember.

Annie

Last night, we lost a treasured member of our community. Angharad Clague was involved in a tragic car accident and unfortuntely, didn't make it.


For the last 26 hours or so I have felt numb. I don't remember the last time I cried so much, and slept so little. I've never had to cope with a loss this suddent before. I don't really think I am coping in all honesty.


I feel sick. I feel sick because I feel like this, yet was nowhere near as close to her as many of my other friends. I feel sick because I don't feel like I deserve to be crying so much when, in the years I'd known her, I'd taken her for granted so much.


I feel blessed that I got to spend the last year working with, and getting to know her.


I've had the privilege of taking part in a theology training course, known as 'FP'. Every month, for three days, Annie, George Barnett, Dawid Niemiec and I would travel to Wimbledon, meet with other 'FP-ers' and learn more about subjects surrounding our faith. It was fantastic for many reasons, but something I drastically underestimated was the importance of the car journeys with Annie to and from the training base. In particular, I can't shake the memories of our conversations when it was just the two of us travelling to and from Wimbledon. I had such an amazing insight into the Annie I'd never known before.


Annie and I didn't get on particularly well this time last year. Conversations were strained, and I really believed the training was going to be awful. However, the more I spent time with her, the more I began to appreciate her - I saw an amazing change in her with regards to her faith over the last year. I count myself extremely privileged to have been able to work in the same office as her, to see her constantly praying for people on Friday nights and Sundays, and really begin to get to know her.


This is where the feeling sick bit comes in. There is so much I loved about Annie, but I never told her. The thing is, it's easy to moan about idiosyncrasies and the like in a person when, in your eyes at least, they're going to live forever. I feel so much guilt for the things I said - for doubting her a year ago. The only comfort with this is that I did get a chance to tell her on our last journey to training together how immensely impressed I was with the person that she was. But that wasn't enough. She was astonishing.


Tonight we held a prayer meeting at Kerith Community Church to really reflect on her life. I've never seen it so packed out. I'm just overwhelmed by her phenomenal impact on the kids work, the youth groups, the adults. I'm overwhelmed by the impact her death has made on me. It's amazing how much you realise how much you appreciate people when you lose the opportunity to talk to them.


I keep thinking to myself 'I'll tell Annie how much I appreciate her when I see her'. But I'm not going to. I need to process that really. I know that God has a plan for us - for this situation. I can't understand or fathom it, but I believe it. In all honesty, I don't feel like I deserve to write about her, but I need to pay tribute to her. I will miss her more than I could possibly have imagined...which again, just makes me pray for the people that knew her far, far better than I did. My prayers are with you.


And the parents. Anne and Bill. My thoughts and prayers are with you. I don't know Anne, but Bill is one of my favourite people at church. We regularly play in the worship team together, he puts up with all the financial issues I cause him, and visits the creative arts office pretty much everyday for a chat about something or other. He is a fantastic man and I am so devastated that both he and Anne would be subject to such a horrific tragedy. I pray that we would exemplify 'community' in the coming weeks, and that as that community we can help ease the pain as much as possible. The Clagues are such a blessing to us all.

The Big Picture

Every consequence has an action that begins it. Every l e t t e r and every space on this page is the consequence of pressing labelled buttons on a keyboard. My personality is the consequence of the actions of other people - I play guitar because my step-brother left one in my dad’s living room once. I’m pretty good at maths because when my mum was getting to know my step-dad he used to teach it to me...which in turn led to a strong relationship with him. I don’t use abbreviations when I type because when I was 13 or 14 I used them so much that I had to constantly go back and correct my essays. I can picture the business studies classroom - I can even picture the computer I was sat at when I made that decision. Such a small action helped define a small part of who I am.

Looking further back, I am the consequence of two people deciding they wanted to have children together. Their actions (in not too much detail please) resulted in my very existence. Every breath that you take is the result of a series of actions over thousands of years making you into you, at the time and place you’re in.

Ok. I think that’s pretty mind-blowing. There is nothing on this planet that isn’t the consequence of some sort of action, and every action is the result of a previous action, which was the consequence of another action, and so on. Still with me?

So let’s talk about the big picture. Imagine a blank white canvas. With the right materials, you could paint anything you wanted on there. It could look beautiful. But what if you don’t have any paint? What if you had no materials whatsoever? Suddenly, it becomes physically impossible to create anything. Let me ask you a bigger question:

How was the universe created from nothing?

The blank white canvas analogy only works to a certain extent - it’s not like the universe was there, but purely white when it began...the ‘canvas’ of the universe didn’t even exist! Not only can you not paint with no paint, you can’t even think about painting if you don’t have a canvas to paint on! Excuse my rambling, but what I'm getting at is that the universe must surely be a consequence of a previous action. Scientists tell us that the Big Bang is that action. But to what is the Big Bang a consequence of if there was nothing?

Surely it has to be God. As Wayne Grudem summarizes, ‘God has no beginning, end or succession of moments in his own being, and he sees all time equally vividly, yet God sees events in time and acts in time.’ God is the exception - It can only be God who does not follow these rules. Only God who is not restricted by actions or consequences, or by space, time or matter.

Remember the former things, those of long ago;

I am God, and there is no other;

I am God, and there is none like me.

I make known the end from the beginning,

from ancient times, what is still to come. 


I say: My purpose will stand, 


and I will do all that I please.

Isaiah 46:9-10

Surely it follows that it’s more plausible that God did create the universe than it is that God didn’t create the universe? Surely only God can be the artist behind the big picture?

I'll leave you with a quote from a scientist named Francis Colins in his book The Language of God:

We have this very solid conclusion that the universe had an origin, the Big Bang. Fifteen billion years ago, the universe began with an unimaginably bright flash of energy from an infinitesimally small point. That implies that before that, there was nothing. I can't imagine how nature, in this case the universe, could have created itself. And the very fact that the universe had a beginning implies that someone was able to begin it. And it seems to me that had to be outside of nature.

I know what I believe!