‘People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart’ (v7)
As our children have just started a new term, I’ve decided it is a good time to start a new series of devotions (particularly after a bit of a break over the summer). So much has been shaken this year – including, for many of us, our sense of self. With much of our freedom limited for months, and many of us affected personally by Covid, we may feel quite different than we did at the start of the year. We listened to our son’s new headmaster give his ‘welcome back to school’ address last night; he recognised that the pupils will have been changed by lockdown – and that their personalities may be somewhat different too.
Whether we are going back to school or our workplace, starting a new school, as our son is, or simply trying to regain a sense of routine, embracing the challenges as well as the opportunities can be harder when we aren’t sure how to live out of a sense of who we truly are as Christians day by day. Too often we can live out of a warped sense of self, allowing those around us, or our circumstances, to influence who we are. We can struggle with our identity when, ultimately, it can only be found in Jesus.
Part of stepping into who we are is learning to walk into the freedom already won for us, but the other part is about discipline and learning to cultivate the positive qualities of our new selves along with the help of the Holy Spirit.
So where does our sense of self come from? What we do, from what those around us think of us? What we think of ourselves? How do we measure ourselves? Is our first port of call to go to God and His Word to see what He says about us – or do we rely on what society is telling us and what it says we should be like?
I love the reminder that 1 Samuel gives us. God had told Samuel to go to the house of Jesse, as he would find the next king of Israel there. But his expectation of what the king would look like caused God to remind him that what is most important is what is going on inside a person – not their outer appearance. As we start this study on ‘self’, let’s not forget that the way we judge ourselves is so often different to the way God judges. He is most concerned about our spiritual wellbeing and about us coming into the fullness of what it means to be ‘new creations’ in Jesus.
Prayer: Thank You Lord that to understand who I truly am, I need only look to You. Help me, through the coming days, to learn to see myself as You see me. Amen.
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.
I know that I haven’t been posting as regularly recently and I do apologise for that. I have needed a bit of space, which is hard to come by with the kids on school holiday. My weekly devotionals are normally based on Bible study notes that have already been published – this series has gone way beyond that, but I have felt it important to stay with the subject matter.
The time I spent sorting through mum’s things was a time of sadness but also laughter. We were able to reminisce as we sorted, and I was so glad that happened. But it was also a time characterised by a lack of time to process what was going on. I had half an hour one morning when I sat and read through some of the cards and letters mum and I had sent to one another, which I found with her Bibles, and had a little cry but, apart from that, there wasn’t much breathing space.
As a result, I have found myself crying at quite random events since I came home. I’m sure the lack of sleep during the recent heatwave hasn’t helped, but minor difficulties have left me in floods of tears. I’ve also been so much more aware of the fragility of our humanity, as well as my desperate desire to see my dad come to know his maker and our children to know God more deeply and intimately. Sometimes the pain of those desires is overwhelming.
One moment, when I was getting more and more frustrated at not being able to find something in our currently rather messy home, and ended up in tears (yet again), two members of our household exclaimed: “You don’t need to cry about it!”
I came away feeling even worse about myself, but then I remembered the above verse, which meant so much to me when I was writing my latest 30-day devotional on Disappointment and Loss. God had led me to it time and time again when I went to him with my questions and my sadness.
I don’t understand why my mum suffered physical pain for so much of her life, or why she died exactly when she did. I also don’t understand why she cried so many tears of longing over my dad’s salvation but never saw the fruition of a promise spoken to her more than 30 years ago that she prayed faithfully into day after day.
I don’t understand why the world has been hit by this pandemic, or why we are seeing so many ongoing natural and manmade disasters that are causing immense suffering (although I do know many of our collective lifestyle choices have impacted the globe in horrendous ways). But what I do know is that God sees our pain, and he collects every single tear. While my family may not have understood my latest tearful outburst (and I don’t fully either), God did, and he lovingly recorded every single tear. And while I don’t fully comprehend why he does so, I do know that he cares for us tenderly and knows that we need an outlet for our pain and sorrow.
Reflection: There has been so much loss and sorrow in the world this year. Have you given yourself time and space to process your own response before God? Could it be that he is lovingly inviting you to shed some tears before him?
I have been thinking about Ecclesiastes 3, which talks about there being a ‘time for everything’, including death. But there is also ‘a time to keep and a time to throw away’ (v6) and that is what I am facing right now.
While I know many people utilised the time during lockdown to blitz rooms in their homes that had become overfull with unnecessary clutter, our lockdown was more manic than our life is usually. And, as my husband is deep into DIY in our bathroom currently, we are not sorting through and throwing away anything – apart from damp and rotten wood, tiles and an old shower!
No, this time to keep and throw away is related to the earlier verse: ‘a time to be born and a time to die’ (v2). Although my mum died back in February, this is the first opportunity there has been to go and stay with my dad, so that I can help him sort through mum’s things.
I am sure there will be a mixture of emotions felt over the next few days and, while we may hold on to some things for sentimental reasons, in order to remember mum well, we will also need to make practical decisions and get rid of items that none of us can utilise.
As I’ve been thinking about going away, I’ve realised that this is the next stage in my grieving journey. It will necessitate another layer of letting go, as we package up clothes to take to charity shops. It will feel like losing another part of mum, and I know I will find it really hard. I hope I’ll be gentle on myself, and walk this next path with Jesus as I know he will be close by.
But I also think there is a letting go that most of us need to do in this time, as we are easing out of lockdown. We need to let go of the pressure we may be putting on ourselves to ensure things go back to ‘normal’ quickly – whatever normal was.
We need to let go of the frustration we may feel because 2020 has certainly not been as we envisaged or hoped. Whatever control we thought we had over our lives has been shown up for what it really was – an illusion. Some of us will be struggling with that intensely. Perhaps it’s time to let go of the struggle and move towards acceptance…
Lockdown has also brought the best out in some people – but the worst in others. It may be that we’ve been on the receiving end of some of the worst. Perhaps it is time to let go of the pain that has been inflicted and any unforgiveness that has arisen in our own hearts as a result.
Reflection: Take some time before God to ask him whether there is anything that you need to let go of. You might want to bring those things before him and, in a symbolic act, when you are ready place your palms downwards to show that you are letting them go, out of your grasp. Then, again when you are ready, perhaps you could turn your palms upwards to receive whatever it is that God has for you today.
Today I am delighted to welcome Deanna Fletcher to my blog. She is a broadcaster but has also just created a new ‘daily practice movement’ called Know Me. Here she explains why she thinks taking time for regular stillness is so important.
If I told you one simple thing could dramatically reduce your anxiety and self-doubt while also helping you sleep better, would you believe me?
Finding a daily practice that works best in the season of life you’re in isn’t just about taking control of your mental health. It’s also a powerful and biblical way to connect with God on a deeper level, creating space for the Holy Spirit to speak with you in a tangible, personal way.
A spiritual or belief practice is a regular activity undertaken for the specific purpose of cultivating spiritual development. The more you come back to this place of stillness and surrender, the further along the path you’ll move towards your goal; a closer communion and intimacy with God. This type of spiritual path is sometimes referred to as a pilgrimage and, I believe, describes well the journey of discipleship. Spending quality time in His presence and allowing Him to replace negative, fearful thoughts with His loving truth is right on point with Romans 12:2 – to be “inwardly transformed by the Holy Spirit through a total reformation of how you think” (TPT).
There are many reasons you might take up a daily practice. Right now, we are facing an epidemic of poor mental health, increased anxiety and loneliness not just in our country, but around the world. Many families have been confined to small spaces under the coronavirus lockdown and for single people the hardship of isolation – going for months without a physical connection with others – has become lonely to the point of distress.
I came to discover practices like guided meditation when it was desperately needed in my life. Chronic stress had led to clinical burnout, resulting in major life changes and a lengthy recovery process. How I wish I knew then what I know now! Rest isn’t the enemy of productivity, and silence is nothing to be feared – there is strength to be found in these places. In my experience, it requires coming back to places of stillness and prayer to see real, long-term change. According to the Bible, Jesus is our ‘great physician’ (Mark 2:17) and we would never expect an initial appointment with our GP to resolve our issue. No, it requires that we return as a daily ritual to His presence.
So how can we take back the reigns of our spiritual and emotional wellness?
The befits of habitual meditation have been proven to include better emotional health, a stronger understanding of self, reduced stress and insomnia, increased positive action and kindness towards others, just to name a few. Creating space to engage with something as simple as a guided meditation on a daily basis is good for the mind, will help you to deepen your faith, and bring more joy as you find yourself feeling more connected and less alone.
“But God’s not finished. He’s waiting around to be gracious to you. He’s gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes the time to do everything right – everything. Those who wait around for him are the lucky ones” (Isaiah 30:18, The Message).
However hectic your schedule may be, it’s well worth making space for uninterrupted stillness. Often, this is exactly what our soul craves. Create an intention today to better serve yourself tomorrow. Consider setting your alarm a few minutes early to take advantage of quiet time in the morning. Small changes make a big difference, and your active choice today may help develop a consistent habit that allows you to start each day with feelings of calm, confidence and connectedness.
Deanna Fletcher is a broadcaster, speaker and founder of the daily practices movement, Know Me. Sign up for helpful articles, devotionals and meditations that will refresh your mind and spirit.
In all honesty, these last few weeks have been incredibly difficult. As I’ve said before, life in lockdown has been so much busier than usual, there have been some huge challenges with people and particular situations, and I have also had my first birthday without my mum. All of that has meant that I have reached way beyond my capacity – emotionally but also physically. Last week my body started fighting back, with a notable upsurge in the degree of pain my head and neck have been in and regular nosebleeds (frustratingly often when I was trying to get to bed).
As well as taking the emotional difficulties to God to work through daily, I started trying to get to bed early. But, even when I did, I couldn’t sleep. It was a very frustrating week! Thankfully, although emotionally quite painful, my birthday also included some lovely times of celebration with friends and family. It was so wonderful to host my family again for the first time in a number of years (although I said to my husband afterwards that I’d forgotten what hard work hosting is! Lockdown has obviously gone on for far too long!).
When this week started, I could sense something had shifted. I realised that I had become engulfed in swirling waves of depression and darkness: my responses to things were not usual and I was becoming very negative. But, on Monday, that fog began to lift. Yesterday, I even felt a bit of relief from the head and neck ache – although that was short-lived. However, the sense of hope was quickening within me again.
As I started pondering a short message I will be sending to a women’s group that I should have been speaking to in person next weekend, I was drawn to a couple of verses in Psalm 23. But, after he had given me what he wanted me to say to them, God then reminded me of what it says at the start of the Psalm. That he ‘makes me lie down’ and ‘leads me’. I was struck afresh by how active those descriptions are – the first sounds a tad aggressive even (well, authoritative is perhaps a better word). But then that may be in response to my own actions…
I know I started lockdown with all the best intentions – helping my husband with the huge learning curve of getting church online and producing content each week, supporting our kids not only with online learning but also their spiritual health, keeping the groups I’m involved with in church connected via different online meetings and special events and being in daily contact with my family as we had just lost our mum/wife, as well as dealing with a heavier (but enjoyable) workload (which included finishing the book on marriage my husband and I have written).
It wasn’t really a surprise that there was a physical and emotional cost to what I was doing. I should have read the warning signs earlier but, even when I had, there was little I could suddenly drop.
I did enjoy a wonderful online retreat, led by the amazing Sharon Brown, in which I had space to process grief but also hear from God about my need for rest. But, as sometimes happens, directly after that, there seemed to be a kick back – life was suddenly more challenging and I found my journal littered with questions for God about why he would tell me to rest, when he knew what was going to happen!
I know that all I need is found in God, and he is always with me, but there are times when circumstances can seem completely overwhelming, even when we are doing all the ‘right’ things, connecting with him regularly and looking to him for direction and guidance day by day.
Fast forward to this week. When I can actively see his hand at work. Many of the evening activities that we had planned got cancelled and, just yesterday, I turned to my husband and said: “Maybe we are supposed to just rest in the evenings this week.”
It certainly feels like God has suddenly stepped in and said: “Enough is enough. Just rest.” It doesn’t mean that everything has stopped; I still have lots of work to attend to, and my husband is planning a new preaching series, plus writing his own preach for this weekend. We are also constantly discussing the next steps for the church, now that lockdown is beginning to ease. But, in the midst of all that, it does feel like God is beckoning us to lie down in the green pastures he has prepared for us. That he has refreshment for our souls.
I am reminded that Jesus was busy, but never harassed. He had found those “unforced rhythms of grace” that I long forat times (Matthew 11:28–30, The Message). He could sleep in peace on a boat in the midst of a raging storm (Matthew 8:23–27). The outer circumstances that can so often cause stress did not faze him. He also knew how important it was to take time away with his Father to be refreshed.
These are all things I know, and try to practise purposefully in my own life. But I am glad to know that, when my own efforts fall short, I can rely on the Lord my shepherd to step in to look after me; to make me lie down in order to rest.
Reflection: What about you? Does this resonate with where you are at? Is God leading you beside quiet waters today? Make sure to follow wherever he leads…
This week we attended a virtual meeting with the other new pupils, head of year and assistant head for the school our son will be moving to in September. The school’s motto is: Per Ardua Ad Summa, ‘Through Difficulties to the Heights’, and much weight was given to the fact that they will all face new challenges, and will find some things difficult, and yet they were encouraged to push through, and keep trying, as that is how we discover who we are and what we excel at.
That is, in part, what I feel this passage in Ephesians is also saying to us. That we need to continue making the most of every opportunity that we have before us. We need to be wise with our time, and with what we give our attention to, but, as lockdown begins to ease, this is also an opportunity to reflect on where we are at in our lives – spiritually, mentally and physically.
I know some are desperate for lockdown to end; others have enjoyed the extra time it has given them. Some have embraced new hobbies; others have struggled with binge eating, drinking and TV watching. Whichever describes you (or perhaps none of that does), have you taken the time to ask God what his will is for your life currently? We can too easily settle, whatever the circumstances we find ourselves in. Are you still pressing into God for all he has for you personally in this rather strange and perplexing year?
For myself, I have reached physical exhaustion, but am finding space to refresh myself spiritually. Just today I had the sudden realisation that I have been hit afresh with a new wave of grief – it can creep up but engulf so quickly. But I need to be wise in how I deal with it; giving myself space to process but not to allow myself to be overcome with the darkness.
We each have the responsibility, and joy, of discovering God’s will for our lives, and for being careful about how we live. Try to take some time today before him to take stock of how healthy each area of your life is.
Reflection: Let me leave you with a couple of quotes from Brother Lawrence to ponder, from The Practise of the Presence of God. My mum wrote them in a card to me for my 40th birthday, and I discovered it again today. His comments are a great starting point for thinking about living wisely, and in God’s will:
‘To be always with God; and to do nothing, say nothing and think nothing which may displease him; and this without any other review than purely for the love of him, and because he deserves infinitely more.’
‘Do not forget him, but think on him often, adore him continually, live and die with him; this is the glorious employment of a Christian; in a word, this is our profession.’
Today I am celebrating the publication of the above devotional in eBook format (it will be available in print by September). It was the book I was in the middle of writing when I heard that my mum was close to dying, and so the rest of it was written sitting next to her as she took her journey to be with Jesus.
As it is a devotional, and there is an entry called ‘His timing’, which fits with our current weekly series, I thought I’d give you a sneak preview of the contents. The following is taken from day 18 (and is also a passage I have preached on recently – click here for the full preach, or here for a shortened version):
Jesus stayed away when He heard that Lazarus had become ill, because He knew God wanted to work a miracle. But what about Mary and Martha, Lazarus’ sisters? They were not privy to such information. Jesus was a good friend – they had reached out to let Him know about their brother, so must have expected Him to return. They must have been so confused and disappointed when He didn’t appear. And then they suffered the loss of their beloved brother… Lazarus had been dead for four days by the time that Jesus arrived. While Martha went out to see Him, Mary did not. I think I would have been inconsolable by this point – and probably very angry.
I find it so interesting that Jesus asks Martha to exercise her faith to express who she believes He is before her brother is raised. Often it is in that waiting time – when we can also be dealing with a lot of pain – that displaying our faith is the most difficult, and yet He is still the Messiah, He is the resurrection and the life.
There are many instances in our lives when we don’t understand God’s timing, when He seems to wait to answer our prayers – or perhaps doesn’t even seem to answer them at all. I was really moved and challenged by a eulogy I heard recently. Speaker and writer Priscilla Shirer’s mother had died; she tweeted a video of her brother speaking at the funeral. He had been wrestling with God as to why He let her die and described what God said back to him:
‘There was always only two answers to your prayers. Either she was going to be healed, or she was going to be healed. Either she was going to live, or she was going to live. Either was going to be with family, or she was going to be with family. Either she was going to be well taken care of, or she was going to be well taken care of.’ I certainly found that challenged my perspective.
Prayer: Lord, there are times when I really don’t understand what is happening, and feel the pain acutely. Help me to continue to trust You. Amen.
If you are interested in finding out more about my devotional, please click here.
This interaction between Peter and Jesus is one that always causes a heart response in me, because it beautifully reveals how God restores us.
This was the first time that Peter had spoken one on one with Jesus since the resurrection – and since that horrifying day when he had disowned him, and then watched him die an agonising death. Peter had been so sure of himself, so sure that he would stand by Jesus no matter what (see Mark 14) and yet Jesus knew that Peter would deny him three times.
How all of that must have played heavily on Peter’s mind, even after Jesus appeared, resurrected, to them all. He must have felt that he had blown it and yet what does Jesus do in this interaction between them? In a beautiful display of forgiveness and reinstatement, he asks Peter three times: ‘do you love me?’ By the third time, Peter was feeling hurt and yet, although tough at the time, those three questions were for the three denials. Jesus was bringing restoration. As I explain in my book Taking Off the Mask:
‘The first two times, the Greek word he [Jesus] uses for love is agape, which means self-sacrificial love. The first time it is in the context of the group; the second he is focusing on just Peter. The third time the word Jesus uses is phileis, from the word philos, which means beloved or friend. Here Jesus is talking about brotherly affection. I believe, through this process, he is asking Peter to both confront his past mistakes and look honestly at what his true feelings and motivations are. Jesus uses this to redeem Peter and charges him with the task of looking after the church: ‘feed my sheep’ (v.17)’
It may be that during this time of lockdown you have struggled in certain areas. Being in close quarters with family has certainly brought out the best, but also the worst, in all of us in my household, and I know we’ve had to learn to apologise to one another quickly. We have found, as time has gone on, that patience has worn thinner and we have been less gracious towards one another. We have had to recognise our mistakes and bring peace and restoration to our relationships.
One of the things I think God has been stirring in many of us is the necessity of looking at our usual priorities. Do our lives need recalibrating in any way? Are there practises that we need to discard, and new ones we need to put into place going forward?
And what about our motivations? We watched on in horror at the murder of George Floyd, but many of us have since been learning that not being racist is not enough – we must show that we are anti-racist and stand in unity with one another. We need to search our hearts for our own wrong attitudes and actions, and be quick to repentance.
How reassuring it is that we serve a God whose mercies are new every morning, who remains faithful and true – and who provides us with a fresh start when we need one.
Reflections based on Ecclesiastes 3:4: ‘A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.’
Ecclesiastes 3 talks about the fact that there is a time for everything, and this verse includes times for weeping and mourning. Personally, I am living in a strange time of mourning the loss of my mother and now my grandmother deeply, but also realising that life goes on and there is much to be positive about too.
I know that we are months into this pandemic, and so many others are in a similar position of mourning – but their loved ones died unexpectedly from this horrible coronavirus. I cannot imagine the pain of not being able to say goodbye to my own mother, and yet that is what has just happened to my dad…
The government is at the stage of trying to ease lockdown as the numbers of deaths and newly infected patients is decreasing. However, there still seems to be much to weep and mourn about. Thousands and thousands of people have died, nurses, doctors, care home workers and those in prisons, supermarkets, food banks and elsewhere are literally working around the clock to provide care and keep necessary facilities open. The mental and physical toll on them must be extraordinary.
And last week we learned of the tragic and totally senseless death of George Floyd, at the hands of police. It has sparked outrage across the world and riots and peaceful protests have been occurring in many large cities. It is right for us to mourn and weep with George’s family. But also with all who have spoken about seeing themselves in the terrifying image of him being held down with a white policeman’s knee on his neck.
This poor man’s death has raised the profile of another pandemic sadly rife in our societies: racism. And we need to take the time to mourn for the fact that, for all our ‘advances’, we are not united as one people. All of us are made in the image of God, and Jesus came to reconcile us not just to the Father but to each other. However, these gospel truths are not reflected in so many people’s experiences – and we should weep at that knowledge.
I was stopped in my tracks when I had the pleasure – and challenge – of editing Ben Lindsay’s book We Need to Talk about Race. There was so much in it that confronted my largely comfortable, privileged life and made me realise I don’t fully understand the experiences of so many of my brothers and sisters. And it is far too easy to simply ignore that fact, and spend my time with those I’m comfortable with, with those that are like me.
It is time to mourn our own prejudices and apathy – and repent of them –but also time to take action. To stand alongside those who are being oppressed, and to take the time to listen to them in order to gain understanding. Our nation has seen a rise in community spirit through the lockdown; may we now come together in unity, lifting up those who have been brought low in order that we may all stand as one against the horrors of injustice.
I am delighted to welcome Fran Hill to my blog today. She has just released her second book, Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean?, a memoir filled with comedy – but also tragedy. Here she explores the relationship between the two…
The actor Peter Ustinov said: ‘Comedy is simply a funny way of being serious.’ He won Grammys, Tonys, Baftas, Emmys and Golden Globes, so I’ll take his word for it.
Despite what he says, we’re still tempted to create false dichotomies. For instance, we categorise comic and serious fiction in separate generic boxes, confidently labelling novels ‘rom-coms’ or ‘domestic noir’, or perhaps that’s for the convenience of booksellers.
But Ustinov is right, surely. Comedy is rarely just ‘funny’, free from underlying, serious themes. Think Bridget Jones, Adrian Mole or the fool in a Shakespearean play. Whether commenting on loneliness, teenage angst or the foolishness and vice of monarchs and nobles, each uses comedy, making us laugh while simultaneously plugging in to universal issues of humanity.
The Bible isn’t afraid to mix funny and serious either. How about Balaam’s donkey having better angel-vision than Balaam did and then backchatting his sulky master? Then there’s Jonah, trapped inside a giant fish (vowing never to eat spare ribs again). And Jesus’ own parables were filled with ironic humour and implication, sometimes lost on his listeners.
However, my favourite Bible story (Acts 20) is of Eutychus. A young man, he falls out of a third-floor window from the windowsill on which he’s perched, having nodded off during a long sermon of the apostle Paul’s.
Imagine the scene: everyone listening to Paul, the respected man of God. Their faces are serious, intent on learning from the great man. Suddenly, Eutychus disappears, there is a thud and everyone waits for a scream. They rush downstairs to find him dead on the path outside the house.
Paul could have said: ‘He found my sermon boring. Someone else resurrect him!’ but instead he graciously throws himself on the boy who is instantly revived.
This is a funny story but it speaks compassionately of average people, trying to do the right thing, and not always managing to keep up or cope: normal folks, not able to meet society’s expectations. That’s all of us at some point. Just like Eutychus, we can’t maintain interest or momentum. Sometimes it’s just too much because we’re tired of life: its worries, griefs, addictions, illnesses or pains. In the same way as Eutychus struggled to keep his eyes open, we too struggle to stay focused, despite it all.
The story also speaks of a world in which dead things can be brought back to life. Paul makes it look easy, in fact. After he resurrects the youth, he trudges back upstairs to finish his sermon. Eutychus doesn’t get taken home until afterwards, so, where did he sit for Part 2, I wonder? Also, we’re told ‘they took the young man home alive’ as if this was a bonus event, rather than what they’d have expected! Or maybe it suggests that he’d made a habit of this and had been resurrected 17 times before. ‘Honestly, Eutychus!! Again?’
I wrote a little poem in his honour:
I’m comforted by Eutychus to find that he is one of us. Asleep, he falls without a push when Paul the preacher will not shush. This poem’s an ode to him because, though dead and gone, that Eutychus gets resurrected with no fuss. I think that makes him Euty-plus.
Erma Bombeck, the American humorist, said: ‘There is a thin line that separates laughter from pain, comedy and tragedy, humour and hurt.’ And, of course, there’s a tenuous distinction between laughter and tears; they both make us feel better, releasing tension-relieving hormones.
Two Radio 4 comedies I’ve enjoyed have been set in depressing situations. One called ‘Rigor Mortis’ is set in a hospital’s pathology department and another – ‘Old Harry’s Game’ – in hell. Somehow the more sombre the setting, the sharper the comedy. And as Dr Adam Kay’s recent book, This is Going to Hurt demonstrates, many whose professions involve tragedy speak of black humour as a vital coping mechanism even amidst horror.
Teaching can’t be compared to pathology or emergency gynaecology – relief! – but my new book, Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean? also combines comedy and tragedy. It’s a funny memoir in diary format about a typical year in my teaching life and portrays comic classroom moments and the hapless attempts of the protagonist (me!) to keep control of her days as they slip out of her grasp. But it also explores the misbehaviours of both pupils and teachers, including my own, examining why people misbehave, are cruel to others or lack empathy. Sometimes this is linked to past trauma that affects our relationships, perhaps making it hard for us to accept the kindness of others, even though that kindness is vital to survival.
To go back to Ustinov, Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean? is my attempt to say something serious by being funny.
Hopefully, no one will fall out of a window at any of my readings.
Fran Hill is a writer and English tutor living in Warwickshire with her husband. She has three grown-up children and two grandchildren. Her first book Being Miss was self-published in 2014. Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean? is her second. Fran has been a freelance writer for over 20 years, contributing to a wide range of publications, both faith-based and secular. Read more at www.franhill.co.uk
