Category: Unmasked: stories of authenticity

Faith, love…and cancer

3 Comments

I am delighted to welcome Kate Nicholas to my blog, who shares openly about the things that have caused pressure on her marriage – and how she and her husband John have navigated them.

All marriages face challenges but what about when that the thing that might divide you is your faith?

I met my wonderful husband John 27 years ago while working in Australia. After suffering a bit of an existential crisis at the age of 29, I had bought a round-the-world ticket and set off on something of a spiritual quest. 

Although I was brought up as Baptist, I was very influenced by my father, a brilliant but eccentric poet, who was bipolar. When he repeatedly threatened to take his own life, I turned to the Church to help me understand how God could love my father but let him suffer so much. When the Church provided no answer, I turned my back on God in anger. God, however, wasn’t willing to let me go. After travelling and studying Buddhism in India and Thailand, I came to the conclusion that a world without Him didn’t make sense – and began my journey back to Christ. 

A PROFOUND CONNECTION

The chances of meeting my husband were a million to one. After a year of travelling in South East Asia I ended up living in a backpacker hostel in Sydney and working with UNICEF Australia. It was a dorm mate who told me about this crazy Australian hippie who for the last 18 months had been cycling solo around Australia and was in Sydney for one night only to get his bike fixed. As it was his birthday, a group of people were going down the Rocks to celebrate and I was invited. 

It was love at first sight. I was a successful PR executive on a break from reality; he was seven years younger, had hair longer than mine and no discernible source of income. We were not an obvious combination but there was a profound connection. The next day he didn’t leave as planned and we have been together ever since. 

When we met we talked a little about faith. The child of Lithuanian refugees, he was brought up in the Catholic church. While he seemed to have a private faith and some deeply held basic beliefs, he no longer attended Mass. However, we recognised that we looked out on the world from a similar place and shared deeply held values about the prioritising of experience over money, and relationships over success. 

FINDING FAITH

After a further year travelling in Australia, India and Thailand we settled back in the UK where I continued to explore my faith, studying scripture and attending an Anglican church. Then in my early 40s, I had a profound ‘born again’ conversion experience; a powerful baptism of the Holy Spirit – and my life changed radically. I became an authorised preacher in the Anglican church, gave up my job as editor-in-chief of a secular current affairs magazine and moved to Christian aid agency World Vision. There, I was exposed to the great diversity of God’s Church, and met the most extraordinary faith-filled individuals in some of the toughest places on the planet. 

But as my own faith deepened, it pained me that my husband wasn’t sharing the experience. At my encouragement he came to some services with me but didn’t feel comfortable. I will never forget one wonderful World Vision event led by Joel Edwards and the Holy Trinity Brompton band. While everyone else threw themselves into arm-waving, Spirit-filled worship, my husband stood stock still in wide-eyed horror. He was definitely a fish out of water.

But when I was being reviewed for further training in the church, John affirmed to interviewers that he had ‘a mustard seed of faith’ and has supported me on every step of my journey. When I debated whether to take the role of Global Communications chief for World Vision International (with all the travel it involved), it was my husband who asked me: ‘What will you think when you look back and realise that you turned down this enormous opportunity that God has given you?’  

FAITHFULNESS

When I was first diagnosed with advanced cancer six years ago, John was amazed at the peace that seemed to descend on me. He commented: ‘I know it didn’t come from you, as you could worry the leg off a table’. He prayed with me before every scan and oncology review and while I was going through treatment volunteered to take our children to church. 

Over the years I have tried to evangelise my husband in various ways. But I have come to realise it is presumptuous of me to assume that he doesn’t have a relationship with God (just because his relationship is different to mine) and that it is sheer arrogance to think that his eternal salvation is somehow down to me. 

If anyone had told John that the footloose traveller that he met all those years ago would give her whole life over to ‘declaring the works of the Lord’ (Psalm 118:17), he might have thought twice about marrying me. But, despite the radical change that Jesus has wrought in my life and the many challenges we have faced, he is still by my side as my faithful and loving partner. That in itself speaks volumes. And my hope is that simply by living out my faith I am witnessing to God’s love. And as Paul says: ‘how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband?’ (1 Corinthians 7:14-16).

A PLACE OF ACCEPTANCE

Now after six years in remission, I once again face the challenge of cancer. I still can’t persuade my husband to attend church for himself but he is there for me in every way possible, and I now accept that no matter how close we may be, John’s ‘soul story’ will not be the same as mine. But I trust, and have confidence, that God isn’t willing to let John go either, and that one day that mustard seed will blossom gloriously. 

Kate Nicholas is a Christian author, broadcaster and preacher. Her best-selling memoir Sea Changed (Authentic) tells the story of her unconventional journey of faith and healing. And her latest book Souls’ Scribe: Connecting Your Story with God’s Narrative (Authentic) helps readers to understand and tell their own ‘soul story’.

You can find out more about Kate’s books, TV shows and course and subscribe to her blog to follow her current journey of faith through cancer. 

Hope through the seasons of life

I am delighted to welcome Jean Gibson to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. Two of her books have appeared in a new, combined edition and, to celebrate, I asked her to share with us some stories of hope, which also tie in well with the devotional series currently running.

‘Hi Karen, how are things this week?’

She grimaced. ‘Not so good.’

Then her face lit up. ‘But I’ve found a great verse. Whenever I feel down I repeat it to myself. It’s Romans 12:12. “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”’

Karen had terminal cancer. As I looked at her, I thought, ‘Joyful in hope. That’s the title for your chapter in my book. In fact, that’s the title of the whole book.’

I had just completed my first book, Seasons of Womanhood, and was working on the second – another book of stories demonstrating how God brought hope into the lives of women in a variety of challenging situations. Karen’s story was still being lived out in front of me.

The books had come about as I realised how many of the women I knew were seeing God at work in their lives through their everyday circumstances. From the ‘wild child’ teenager caught up in the Northern Ireland troubles to the young singer struggling with childlessness and the mother facing the end of life, women were finding God as the ultimate answer. 

Sometimes that answer was a miraculous change in their circumstances, but sometimes it was a deep awareness of the hope brought by his presence as the difficulties continued. 

The phrase ‘joyful in hope’ reminded me how often the themes of joy and hope are linked throughout the Bible. In Nehemiah 8, the prophet encourages the people to rejoice in the God who had helped them through their time in exile and through the challenges of rebuilding temple and city: ‘The joy of the Lord is your strength.’ (Nehemiah 8:10) The rebuilding project involved everyone, at different stages of life. But they all knew God’s joy upholding them as they hoped in him to work out his promises. 

There are times when life is tough for all of us. But as we focus on God, not our problems, we find his hope and joy building within us. The secret is in living close to our Heavenly Father, in waking each morning with the realisation, ‘This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.’ (Psalm 118:24) Through everything that happens, our relationship with him holds firm.

Zephaniah 3:5 tells us, ‘Every new day he does not fail.’

Whatever season of life we are living in just now, the excitement of springtime, the beauty of summer, the joy of harvest or the challenge of winter, we can rejoice every day in the hope he offers.

Further on in the same chapter of Zephaniah we read, ‘The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love. He will rejoice over you with singing.’ (Zephaniah 3:17) When we come to him, he delights in us, he loves us, he even rejoices over us. We cannot understand it but as we trust him, we come to know the truth of it.

Whatever is happening in our lives, God’s faithfulness is constant. And so we can embrace this day – get outside, enjoy the beautiful world God has given us, move our bodies, exercise our creativity, meet friends, make the most of every day he gives us.

If we grasp the opportunities we have today, with God’s help we can have lives that are extraordinary in his strength. We have an all-powerful God. There is no limit to what he can do through us if we are willing to find our hope in him.

One of the stories I told in Seasons of Womanhood was of my dearly loved Auntie Jean. As I grew, Auntie Jean shared with me her love of books, her love for nature and her love for God. In later life, she developed dementia and, although our relationship remained strong, she began to change as her memory deteriorated and her behaviour altered. 

The effects of Alzeimer’s disease became more marked and yet her faith in God remained alive. Although she was often confused about day-to-day events, she could repeat many psalms from memory. Her favourite was Psalm 91: ‘He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”’

In the frightening confusion of memory loss, right to her last day, she still knew the security of God’s love surrounding her. The hope she found in him as a young teenager kept her strong all those years later.

Illness, sin, anxiety, loneliness and many other circumstances can shake our world. But nothing can remove the reality of God’s love and the hope we have in him.

Prayer: Lord you know the challenges I face today. Thank you that your love and power are greater than them all. Help me to be joyful in hope throughout this day.

Having been involved in theological education in Kenya for a number of years, Jean Gibson now focuses her attention on writing and speaking. Her books include Seasons of Womanhood, Joyful in Hope and An Open Door. Jean’s website is http://www.jeangibson.co.uk

How shame develops

An Insight into shame is published by CWR and can be purchased here.

It has been over a week since my latest book, An Insight into Shame, was published and so I felt it was about time I highlighted it in a blog post! Co-written with Heather Churchill, it looks at the difference between shame and guilt, how psychologists believe shame develops in each of us, various approaches to dealing with the threat of shame, understanding our own experiences with shame and finding healing from wounds from the past.

Heather is the Head of Counselling Training at Waverley Abbey College and has years of experience as a trainer, therapist and supervisor. It was a privilege to work on this book with her – I learned a great deal from her that has been so useful already.

We have included lots of real-life stories in the book, including our own. As I sometimes run an ‘unmasked: stories of authenticity’ blog on a Friday, I thought I’d share an extract that reveals how shame affected both of us right back in our childhoods.

There are a wide variety of theories that have been developed about shame, such as Jungian, Cognitive Behavioral, Psychodynamic etc. But, to simplify all their findings, it is probably accurate to say that the emotion of shame is believed by psychologists to be something that is formed early on in childhood. There is now almost universal agreement that the emotion of shame emerges during the toddler stage.[i]

Psychologists believe that shame plays a key role in the development of the self, impacting the way a person views and evaluates themselves. They recognise that children can evaluate from a surprisingly young age and form a ‘picture’ of themselves, which is basically an internalised view of who they are.[ii] Children also develop a view about how others perceive them. In many ways, psychologists would say that the only way a child can begin to know themselves is through the eyes of those who are closest to them – generally their parents or main early care givers.[iii]

Any difficulties in the relationships with care givers will have a huge impact at this stage, as high levels of shame are likely to develop. So we can see that shame is central to a person’s developing sense of self. 

Relationships with early care givers are not the only influences on the development of shame. Our early relationships with others can also be influential too, as our own memories of childhood interactions below illustrate.

Claire can still remember two instances at school in which she felt deep shame – just bringing them to mind causes the feelings to resurface. She moved around a lot as a child; having spent some time in America she stood in front of her new class back in England, a few days after a boy from Australia had started. She was greeted with a boy saying ‘not another one’ and felt such shame she wanted the ground to swallow her up. She continued to feel like an outsider much of the time. And, at the same school, she also regularly experienced the dreaded ‘walk of shame’ over to the PE team that had been forced to take her, as she was the only person not to have been picked to be on a team. 

Heather also has an early memory of when she was about four years old. Her class teacher was away so the headmaster was in charge of the class. She was asked to write something and Heather remembers trying really hard to write in her best handwriting. The headmaster walked around the class and stopped when he reached Heather’s work. He picked it up, tore it up and put it in the rubbish bin. Heather felt humiliated, embarrassed and ashamed, and picked up a belief that she was not good enough – even at the early age of four.

We go on to look at how these early experiences affect the way that we respond to the threat of shame even today.

An Insight into shame is published by CWR and can be purchased here.

[i]R.L. Mills, ‘Taking stock of the developmental literature on shame’, Developmental Review, Vol 25, Issue 1, 2005, pp26-63

[ii]R. Mills, P. Hastings, L. Serbib, D. Stack, J. Abela, K. Arbeau, and D. Lall, ‘Depressogenic Thinking and Shame Proneness in the Development of Internalisng Problems’, Child Psychiatry and Human Development, Vol 46, Issue 2, 2015, pp194–208

[iii]J. Bradshaw, Healing the Shame that binds you, (Florida: Health Communications, 2005), p8

Learning to be me

Today it is my pleasure to welcome Melissa Ohden to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. She has written about her own personal story in You Carried Me; here shares how she has learned to take of her mask and be who she was created to be.

In Life, the Truth and Being Free, author Steve Maraboli states, “Live authentically. Why would you continue to compromise something that’s beautiful to create something that is fake?” I would add to this that scripture is clear about authenticity. For example, take Ephesians 4:22-24, in which believers are called, “to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”

Being authentic means more than just taking up a cause, “being you” or moral relativism and the like. It’s about being honest with the world about who God made you to be, what He’s done in your life, and what He’s called you to share and do. Being authentic is beautiful, because it’s how God calls us to live. Why would we project something else to the world that’s fake, when what He makes is beautiful?

I am an abortion survivor and, although I don’t believe God originally wrote this storyline in my life, because He’s the author and creator of life, I am so thankful that this is the story He’s written in my life. This is who God made me to be! Although I’m so much more than just a survivor of a failed saline infusion abortion, the reality is that this is how I was born into this world, and this very experience has shaped who I am, my career path, my mental, emotional and physical health, my relationships with others, my relationship with God and, although it happened 41 years ago, it still continues to affect my life today.  

Although most people won’t ever know what it’s like to be an abortion survivor, we all know what it’s like to have a secret, to have an experience or life story that we feel ashamed or embarrassed about, maybe even fearful of others knowing.

That’s how a mask first gets placed on, in which you cover your authentic self, your true identity, your experiences and stories that make you uniquely you, and reflect someone else to the world. 

Maybe it’s sin you’re masking, maybe it’s a painful experience you’ve had that’s deeply shaped your life, maybe it’s your belief in God and who He made you to be that you’re trying to keep under cover.

Our world certainly reinforces this, especially when it comes to being affected by abortion in a negative way and even when it comes to being a believer and follower of Christ. Our culture communicates that we should wear a mask to cover our authentic self that may challenge it, that may make others uncomfortable. My very existence makes people uncomfortable! And it made me uncomfortable to know that years ago.
Our individual stories may look different underneath, but our masks often look surprisingly similar:

The woman who has it all together. Perfectly made up. Slaying it at work. Instagram-perfect home, marriage or dating relationship, and children. That’s a common mask.

Maybe you’re the one whose mask communicates that you don’t need anyone, you don’t care about anything. You’re aloof and could care less about the world. You don’t need anyone or anything. You’re a woman who stands alone. You don’t need God.

Or maybe you’re the woman who’s always happy. Sad, anxious, depressed? Considered ending your life because you don’t see any meaning or purpose in it? No, never you! You’re okay. You’re more than okay! You’re always happy!

There are so many different masks that we wear,and even though those around us may not realise it, I think deep down, each of us know when we’re wearing them, when we’re covering up our authenticity. I think that as women, we can also innately sense when someone else is wearing a mask, too.

 What was my mask, you may be wondering? Mine was the picture of perfection: “high achieving, people pleasing, must earn people’s love and respect and never show people my hurt”. My mask was beautiful, and firmly covered the truth about who I was.

At the heart of the matter, I was afraid of who I was, of how people would react to my story or treat me when they learned of it. The few times that I had told people my story privately after I found out about it at the age of 14 hadn’t gone well. Although close friends and classmates were supportive, others expressed their pity for me, coupled in tandem with their disdain for my personal beliefs about abortion, and even their questions about the credibility of my life story. 

The more I shared my story and people responded in that manner, the more my mask glued itself on. Maybe you can relate to that. Our masks may first be placed accidentally, but over time, they become purposely placed. We feel like we need to wear them, we must wear them, in order to survive. 

I knew God alone spared my life from abortion and I was so deeply grateful for all He’s done in my life, but I was so affected by our greater culture’s perception of me, so overcome with fear and shame, that by wearing that mask, I was holding back not only the truth about myself, but the truth about God.

Let’s think for a minute about what makes God who He is. He’s the most authentic example for us to follow. He’s merciful, His love is unfailing, He never changes. As God spoke to Moses, He is “I am”. We never have to question who He is, because we know. He never changes. God’s authenticity then bears fruit in us. Through His authenticity, we trust in Him, we love Him, we praise Him, we are confident in Him and His plans for us. Just as His authenticity bears those fruits, we reciprocate likewise in this world when we’re being our authentic selves.

Research literature tells us that living authentically, unmasked, is the key to wellbeing, purpose and even peace. Or, as scripture says, being honest about who God made us to be and what He’s done in our lives bears these fruits. While there may be some twists and turns along the way, when you live as who you really are, you find not only freedom and strength, but also the joy of giving your true talents to the world.

But how do you even do this? Where do you start, when you’ve worn the mask that hides your genuine self for years or even decades – when fear is holding you back from sharing your most authentic, but likely most complicated or painful pieces of your life? How do you share your faith with the world? How do you begin to pry that mask off?

Personally, it started by looking, honestly, at a couple of statements and their impact on me:

If you reallyknew me, you’d know this: ______. 
What is that one thing that most people don’t know about you that you’ve kept hidden? What is it that you’ve experienced that makes you, “you?”

If you really knew me, I think you would ____ me because of this.  
(Love me, hate me, judge me, not respect me as much, you wouldn’t want to be my friend, you’d feel sorry for me, etc).

Melissa’s book is available now, and is published by Lion Hudson.

Although I live an authentic life now, which enables me to be open and honest about who I am, and which has given me great strength, there was a time in my life when I was afraid to share this with anyone. I was afraid to live my life and be me. 

Years ago, I answered that second statement with the following: “If you really knew me, I think you wouldn’t accept me for who I am.” I was deeply afraid that if I was honest with the world about who I am, they wouldn’t accept me. This is a common human experience. We want to be accepted, to be loved, to be understood, to be respected. The root of this is the desire to be loved and accepted unconditionally. Can I remind you that God loves you unconditionally, and that your authentic self, your identity, comes from and is rooted in Him. This is the biggest step, I think, in living life unmasked – recognising your identity and strength truly come from God.

The more I’m honest with the world about who I am, the stronger I become. No matter what it is that you’ve experienced, no matter how scared you are of your story, or of sharing your faith, I hope that you can experience that same strength and inner peace that comes from taking off your mask and being authentically you. Be who God created you to be, and you will experience life in the most profound and beautiful way!

Asking the right questions

I am delighted to welcome Rachel Jones to my blog – her piece fits well within the Unmasked: stories of authenticity series, but she also provides us with an insight into how she went about researching her new book.

When I finished writing Is This It?,I felt a little bit sad. I felt a whole load of positive things too – grateful, relieved, satisfied. But also sad. 

Why? Because I’d miss the conversations. 

Is This It?explores twelve different emotions that are common in our 20s (and beyond) – from self-doubt to dissatisfaction and decision paralysis. The book grew out of my own experience of what some people would call a ‘Quarter-life Crisis’: a period of anxiety and uncertainty over where your life is at and where it’s going. (A bit like a mid-life crisis, but when you’re younger and therefore can’t afford to compensate with a sports car!) 

During the research and writing process I was on a year-long scavenger huntfor ideas, experiences and anecdotes from anyone who was in their 20s, or who had been once. I was a woman obsessed. Nobody was off-limits – old friends, church acquaintances and anyone unfortunate enough to sit next to me at a wedding. No topic was off limits either. Rather than enquiring about work and weekend plans in that period of post-church chit-chat, I started asking questions like: ‘I’m writing a chapter on loneliness this week. Do you ever feel lonely?’ 

Or, ‘I’m asking everyone about this at the moment, but have you ever struggled with doubt?’ 

Or, ‘Tell me about your experience of dating your husband. When did you know he was the one?’ 

Or, ‘What are you feeling discontent about at the moment?’

I’ll admit I was, at times, a little toointense. Those who saw a lot of me began to roll their eyes or raise an eyebrow whenever ‘the book’ came up. They knew what was coming. 

But here’s the thing: people were wonderfully honest with me. As part of the book project I had meaningful connections and real conversations with a whole range of people I wouldn’t have otherwise. It was fascinating. And I’m so grateful for it – first, because I trust that diversity of experiences made the book a whole lot better. And second, because I reaped the benefits of better, richer, deeper friendships as a result. 

It’s ironic, because during my own ‘Quarter-life Crisis’ I don’t think I spoke to many people about it. For months I felt a vague yet persistent sense of unhappiness. I was bored of life. I didn’t especially like where I was working, and I especially didn’t like where I was living. I felt a little bit lost, a little bit lonely, a little bit like I was looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. But I didn’t really talk to anyone about it.Maybe they weren’t asking the right questions. Maybe I wasn’t giving the right answers. Maybe I didn’t have the guts, or the vocabulary, to be authentic. 

So writing and talking about my experience had been wonderfully freeing. That’s why I was so sad when the book project was over. 

But here’s the thing: we don’t need to be writing a book to have these kinds of conversations. We don’t need an ‘excuse’ to be vulnerable, or invite others to be vulnerable with us. We don’t have to have a special reason to be authentic with others. The Bible gives us reason enough: ‘Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice’ (Proverbs 27:9).

So here’s what I’m increasingly seeking to do, and what you could seek to do too:

  • Ask the right questions. Sometimes we need to be more intentional, and a bit braver, with the kind of questions we ask one another. Of course, this will depend on the kind of relationship we have with someone, and we need to be sensitive to their individual needs and personalities. Sometimes, though, it’s good to bite the bullet with real, direct questions. Other times, it’s interesting open questions that are more effective. (‘What are you thinking about right now?’ can result in interesting answers…)
  • Give authentic answers. This is way harder than asking the questions! So much within me wants to give the impression that everything’s fine and I’m quite a nice person really than be honest. Authenticity will only happen if we’re confident of who we are in Christ – if it’s his approval we rejoice in the most. And it helps me, too, to remember the benefits I’ve reaped from being honest in relationships in the past. So all I need to do is take a deep breath…and say something truthful about myself. 

Rachel Jones is the author of Is This It? and the award-winning Five Things to Pray series, and an editor at The Good Book Company. She’s a member of Chessington Evangelical Church, where she’s involved in children’s work and leading Bible studies for young adults.

Facing the face beneath the mask

I am delighted to welcome Mel to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. Here, she gives a behind-the-scenes glimpse into some of the issues she was wrestling with while writing her latest book, Picked for a Purpose, which publishes tomorrow – congratulations Mel! It is fascinating to hear how God prompted her to include more of her own story than she had previously planned to…

Ironically, I found myself, recently, having nightmares about ‘revealing all’ in my next book, Picked for a Purpose – memoirs which my publisher had asked me to write.I’d been going through considerable pain for almost a year due to a muscle tear in my shoulder and was suffering from lack of sleep. It was during those sleepless nights that the enemy seemed to attack. When asked how I was, however, with true British grin-and-bear-it reserve, I would don my mask and reply, ‘I’m fine, thank you. There are others far worse off than me.’

I’m sure we all know what it means to wear a mask at times. At least, in theory. But what about in practice? Do you ever ask yourself, ‘Who am I?’ Do you ever wonder if the person you believe yourself to be is really you? Or is the real you eclipsed? Hidden behind a facade? Blotted out by the persona you choose to convey?

‘Don’t make comparisons!’ my physiotherapist admonished me. ‘Own your pain!’

His words were like water off a duck’s back to me. Until, that is, the nightmares deepened. 

THE MASK OF MORALITY & RESPECTABILITY 

So why the fear? There’s nothing new about my life story. My earliest books, published in 1983, had focused on specific issues in my life, the first telling the story of a difficult marriage, the second of the divorce that followed, and the third of the detrimental effect on one of my daughters. Commissions from major publishers had followed, one of which, The Last Mountain: Living with Aids, became a Sunday Times No 4 Bestseller, plus speaking events, TV appearances and radio broadcasts.

Then, in the late 1990s, my writing career went on hold when I was asked to take on the role of Copyright & Financial Manager for Jubilate Hymns – a publishing company whose work was renowned worldwide. It was a fabulous experience but, on retirement fourteen years later, the urge to return to writing was overwhelming.

Having fulfilled God’s command to me to ‘comfort others with the comfort I’d received’(from 2 Corinthians 1:3-4) in my earlier books, I now felt I was being told to ‘entertain your readers so they will absorb truths they might otherwise resist’. Crossover fiction – portraying the truths of the cross to non-believers via story – seemed the obvious answer. I was aware, however, that few people would recall my earlier work, and that I was, in effect, starting from scratch. Hence Malcolm Down’s request that I share my life experiences again.

RIPPING OFF THE MASK . . .

I set to and, on completion of the first draft, I woke early one morning with a compulsion I knew was of the Lord. Rather than simply reproducing my adult life story, I was to include the terrors of my childhood and disasters of my adolescence. I was, also, God revealed, to add reflective sections at the end of each chapter, showing what I had learned, followed with relevant questions for the reader. The aim, I felt He was telling me, was to show, through my own experience, some of the mental issues with which young people wrestle today: unspeakable health problems; poor body image; the need for love leading to immorality; fragmented families replaced by gang culture; taking on another persona; and drug addiction – all a means of escapism. In other words, the donning of a mask to hide the real self.

It was to be more than that, though. I was to show the way in which God can take these negatives and bring forth positives: the purpose for which He has picked us. Hence Picked for a Purposebecame the title, with a strapline Bearing fruit through times of hardship.

. . . AND BARING ALL

Soon afterwards, during the period when I was finding it difficult to sleep due to extreme pain in my shoulder, a comment made in jest by one of my daughters gave me nightmares.

‘Do you really want the grandkids knowing what a naughty girl grannie was?’ she asked. ‘All those comments on Facebook and Twitter?’

Now I may be a grandma, but I am perfectly au fait with modern technology. Nevertheless, it simply hadn’t occurred to me to stop and think about the possibility of negative comments – perhaps from people who had known of my earlier life – nor the of detrimental effect this might have on family and friends. It was this that was giving me nightmares!

REPLACING THE MASK WITH THE SHIELD OF FAITH

Back in the day of my earlier books, Edward England had introduced me as a ‘best-selling author’. And although I had renounced the title, clearly, in his eyes, I was perceived as a woman of status! Was I now to be seen as something less? Wrestling at night with doubt, I seriously considered throwing the whole manuscript out of the window. But God intervened! In order to counter those negative perceptions he urged me to finish the book by setting out my purpose in revealing all. Here’s what I wrote:

‘The problem is that it’s all too easy to come across as a Victim; a “poor me” inviting pity and compassion. Equally problematic . . . is the concept of conveying an image of sainthood. A “look at me and my faith – aren’t you amazed?” when the reality is that I know myself to be a sinner not a saint.’

As with my shoulder pain, my purpose in writing the book was not to make comparison between my life and that of others. Neither was it to point the finger of blame at anyone. It was simply to own the pain of my life. To strip off the mask and face the face beneath. And in doing so, to glorify God. As He instructed me, so He does you:

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Ephesians 6:14-16

That shield of faith will, surely, be more than sufficient to fend off the fear of being seen for who we are. Who we really are! Children of God. The real Me. The real You. Frail and faulty, yes, but now washed clean in the blood of Christ. No need to hide. No need for a mask.

A multi-published author since 1983, with commissions from Hodder & Stoughton plus a Sunday Times No. 4 Bestseller, Mel Menzies has written under several noms-de-plume. The first novel in the Evie Adams series, Time to Shine, also became a No. 1 Bestseller in its category on Amazon. 

An inspirational speaker, Mel has a lifetime of rich and painful experiences to draw on, including an undiagnosed congenital disease, a dumbed down childhood, divorce, debt, a daughter’s drug addiction and subsequent death.  Through her website and blog, An Author’s Look at Life www.melmenzies.co.uk, she offers resources to inform, inspire and encourage in all walks of life.  

Going natural

 

Last Sunday, our church hosted six baptisms. It was a beautiful service, in which we joined with another church that had asked if they could share our baptismal time as they have no facilities to baptise people. We were delighted to do so. As one of the young people about to be baptised shared their story, I knew I had to ask her afterwards if she would be happy for me to post it as part of the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. I’m so pleased she said yes, as she has a real way with words, and an important message to share…

I started my relationship with God when I was 17. I remember my exact prayer.

“Dear God…what am I doing here? How is this my life? How is this my journey? What do I have to do to change it? Who do I need to become to make sure I am never in this place again? Never this scared again? Never this alone?”

I got my answer from him in one simple word.

Mine.

I promised him on that day that I would try everything in my power to be who he wanted me to be. Who my family wanted me to be. Who I wanted me to be.

And I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.

Six years later, I thought I’d finally figured it out. That I was finally on my way to knowing exactly who I was and putting that 17-year-old lost girl behind me.

But then it happened. A whisper of a comment about something so trivial no one would ever predict or understand the impact.

“You should let your hair go natural.”

I know. So simple. So un-exciting. But it kept coming up and after a couple months of uncertainty I suddenly got filled with the confidence to do it. So, I cut half my hair off and let my ‘fro-fly-free’ knowing full well it would not look beautiful or curly for probably years.

What I didn’t know was that I was in fact entering a whole new stage of that promise I had made at 17. That what I thought was a simple cosmetic choice was actually a deep dive into who I saw I was versus who God has always seen.

It took a week before it hit me.

A week of looking in the mirror not liking what I saw but constantly trying to reassure myself that “it’s ok, it’s just the beginning of the journey” … “it’s ok, you’ll be beautiful again one day” … A week of trying to get my fringe to stay down instead of sticking out of my forehead like a unicorn horn.

It was a tireless, relentless week of everyday routines I had to do to make sure that my ‘big decision’ didn’t result in my hair breaking apart and falling down around me. Needless to say, by day seven it had all caught up to me in waves. I was crying. Insistently. I thought, “Dear God. What have I done? Why am I suddenly so insecure? Why do I feel so exposed? Didn’t we put that 17-year-old girl to bed and move on?”

And that’s when the truth caught up to me.

It was never really about my hair. This story I’m telling you is not about my hair. It was about recognising the identity I have in Christ and appreciating the beauty in it, not the shame.

God took something he knew was precious to me (my hair), something I didn’t realise defined who I was – made me feel confident, beautiful etc – and gave me the inspiration and encouragement to make it authentic. To stop hiding it, covering it or forcing it into a submissive unhealthy state and to just let it be. To not look at all the damage, all the things that I hate, all the negatives and to focus on what it can be. What it will be if I continue to do all the things I know I need to do to it every day.

God showed me that’s how he sees us. How he sees me. When he looks at me, he doesn’t focus on all the things that are wrong with me. On all my mistakes, on all the things imperfect about me, on all the ways I know I annoy him. He sees who I can be. Who I will be if I continue to keep my focus on him and do all the things I know I need to do, every day.

I am not perfect. I am messy and tangled and frizzy and stubborn and difficult and it’s going to take a lifetime of constant battles, deep treatments, late-night routines and daily regimes before I start to look like the person God sees. But we’ve started the journey now. I made the promise at 17 and now I’m ready to honour that commitment and enter that new stage side-by-side with the person who has never left me. Who has now and always has looked at me, and seen something beautiful. Something worth the trouble.

So, to whoever is reading this, I want you to know. You are beautiful. You have always been beautiful. And you will be beautiful all the days of your life. Because you were fearfully and wonderfully made.

Nicole is a 23-year-old working in a start-up in Croydon with other young 20-year-olds. She says: “Either I have a passion for seeing things grow from the ground up or I am a sucker for pain. Either way, I know my desire to push through high-pressure situations comes from a family background of basketball, performing arts and athletes. I love to write, love to sing, but most importantly, I love being a child of God!”

 

Taught to trust

Taken by Kate’s husband, John Vilkaitis

Today I welcome Kate Nicholas to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity series. I thoroughly enjoyed her book Sea Changed, and found her insights and courage in the midst of cancer inspirational. She shares here about the need to let go of control and trust Jesus.

For most of my life, I have been a bona fide control freak. It is a tendency honed by years of working in, and with, the media – initially as a journalist then editor-in-chief of business and current affairs magazine and global communications chief of Christian aid agency World Vision.

In the cut and thrust of the newsroom, or the midst of a humanitarian crisis, there is little room for you to be vulnerable. As a leader you have to be seen to be strong, resilient and in control, and in order to survive many develop a mask to hide the child within. My husband used to jokingly refer to the tough persona that I unwittingly developed as Kate Nicholas plc.

It also isn’t easy being a Christian in the media. All too often those with faith are dismissed as too trusting and naive to have the critical faculties necessary for serious journalism. But this view is based on a fundamental misconception about the nature of trust.

Trust isn’t a passive option.It often requires considerable courage. It is the opposite of being in control and learning to trust is sometimes incredibly challenging.

NO CHOICE BUT TO TRUST

It was the summer of 2014 when I was first diagnosed with advanced inoperable cancer that had spread around my heart. My prognosis was not good and I found myself in a situation that was completely beyond my control.

There was absolutely nothing I could do to change it. All I could do was trust that God would do what was best for me. Cancer is a great trust teacher!

From the outset, I felt that God was with me in the midst of my suffering. I had a strong impression that he was telling me to let go, to stop holding on so tightly to my life, and let him take the helm. And it was only when I finally gave in, and surrendered my control freak tendencies, that God was able to do something wonderful and transformative.

LEARNING FROM PETER

The Gospel of Matthew includes a remarkable story about trust. Matthew recounts an incident that took place on the Sea of Galilee. It was a stormy night, and the apostles were rowing through the darkness when they saw what they thought was an apparition walking towards them across the surface of the water. They were understandably afraid and cried out in terror, but then they heard a voice saying, ‘Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.’

They thought it was Jesus but couldn’t be sure so Peter replied, ‘Lord, if it’s you . . . tell me to come to you on the water.’ And when Jesus said simply, ‘Come,’ without hesitation Peter climbed out of the boat and, as the storm raged around him, stepped out in faith towards his Saviour. It is probably the greatest example of breathtaking, inspiring human trust in Scripture.

All too often we focus on the fact that, a few moments later, Peter took his eye off Christ and, looking down at the waves at his feet, began to panic and sink, but this doesn’t diminish the extraordinary trust that he initially displayed. For a moment he put his faith into action and acted on his belief.

To trust is let go of our need for control.Trust isn’t safe. It requires us to step out of our comfort zone and it severely challenges those of us who feel the need to plan every aspect of our lives (and others’) down to the last detail. Trust demands that we, like Peter, be willing to step out in faith into the unknown.

The Hebrew word for ‘to trust’ in the Old Testament is bataach, which means to have a bold, confident security, and the New Testament Greek word pisteuo means to have confidence in the thing believed. Trust requires us to take the risk of believing in that which we can’t yet see,to let go of our own inadequate and incomplete understanding of God’s plans and recognise that he is on the throne.

Living trusting in ourselves is frankly exhausting and ultimately futile, but we will find that when we are willing to truly hand over control to our creator, God will transform us in more ways than we can ever imagine.

Kate Nicholas is an author, broadcaster and consultant with 30 years’ experience working in media and communications. She preaches at the church of St Peter and St Paul, Olney where the world-famous hymn Amazing Grace was written.

Kate’s best-selling memoir Sea Changed (shortlisted Christian Biography of the Year 2017) tells the story of her unconventional journey of faith and healing from advanced cancer. Her latest book Sea Changed: A Companion Guide – Living a Transformed Lifelooks at how God uses the circumstances of our lives to transform us, as well at what the fruits of this transformation look like – including the ultimate transformation that takes place at the end of our earthly life. Her recent 12-part TV series Living a Transformed Life (which aired on TBN UK) can be viewed free on demand at www.katenicholas.co.ukor   https://www.tbnuk.org/vod/watch/living-a-transformed-life/our-god-of-transformation

Kate’s books are available at Christian bookstores and Waterstones throughout the UK and online at eden.co.uk and Amazon worldwide.

 

Getting real

 

Today I have the huge pleasure of introducing Catherine Parks as a guest blogger on the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. Catherine has written a brilliant, challenging book called Real: the surprising secret to deeper relationships. In it, she describes how she discovered that repentance is the key to creating genuine, authentic relationships. She expands on an extract of the book below to share with us how she learned to cultivate the habit of repentance in her own life.

I’m not generally one to talk about the deep parts of myself – my fears, sins, or even triumphs. I naturally shrug off questions about myself, partly afraid to let others in, distrustful of my motives and heart, and partly because I’m not always aware of what’s really going on in my heart. But thankfully, the Lord has given me two dear friends who, over time, have learned to pull me out of myself. One of these friends moved to my town a few years ago, and we immediately started spending regular time together. After the first few occasions, I noticed that whenever we met up she would ask, “How’s your heart?”

To me, this was an awkward question, and a little strong coming from someone I hadn’t known that long. Not one to go too deep too quickly, I didn’t have a great answer. The first couple of times I just said, “Oh, good, I think. Yeah. Nothing much going on.” And then I turned it back on herand she told me some of the things she was struggling with. She eventually commented on how I was so laid back and must just not be dealing with much. She thought my marriage was perfect. She thought my kids must be angels.

It wasn’t so much that I was trying to hide some secret sin from her; I just didn’t really know how my heart was. But I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea about things, so eventually I started preparingon my way to meet her, trying to figure out what I would say when she asked me. I was motivated by her opinion of me.I wanted her to think I was reciprocating in the relationships, and that I didn’t think I was perfect. I was driven by pride and thinking too much of myself.

While my motivation was wrong, the effect was so good. I started actually examining my heart, praying for sin to be revealed, and then confessing it to another person.I had always analyzed everything around me, but tended to neglect my own heart.

The benefits of this friendship started to affect my other relationships.I was more open with my husband about my struggles because I was actually putting a name to them. I was quicker to admit failure and sin to other friends,particularly one who had waited for years for me to be more forthcoming and transparent. And because I had identified specific struggles, I was learning to recognize my temptations and to pray for help in the moment.

Vulnerability takes time and trust.I could trust my friend because I had spent time with her. I knew she cared about me. I knew she was on my team, helping me to fight my sin. And I saw her own willingness to be vulnerable,which paved the way for me to follow.

Yes, this takes time and trust – but it is worth it. Because ultimately, in relationship with other Spirit-filled, grace-loving believers, confession isn’t about judgment and guilt – it’s an opportunity to rejoice in the gospel together, side-by-side, praising the Savior whose sacrifice brings us the forgiveness and grace we all so desperately need.

Catherine Parks loves to help women build friendships around scripture. She has written for the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission and Christianity Today. She lives in Nashville with her husband, two children and a cute mutt named Ollie.

 

 

 

 

Finding worth in Jesus

Anne le Tissier is a writer and speaker who has authored several books and has a passion to disciple Christians. Her latest book, The Mirror That Speaks Back, is centred around us finding our worth in Jesus, but is also deeply personal.

Firstly, I have known you as a regular contributor to magazines, often unpacking biblical texts, as well as a book writer. Has this always been your career, or did you have a different job? If the latter, what led you to pursue writing?

I pursued a career in investment banking after leaving school, but it was while taking a year out in my early twenties to travel the world and train with YWAM, that I first sensed God gently steering me into a new direction.

Travelling solo, my only company was a journal. I filled its pages, two lines of miniature writing to a space, sharing in intricate detail my experiences, what I felt God was teaching me, how I was feeling, etc. And that was how God ignited a desire to write. Mind you, it took another 14 years for my first book to be published.

You are extremely honest in this book: sharing personal experience of an eating disorder, abusive relationship and other difficulties. What led you to do that?

I’ve read a good number of teaching or self-help books, all of which have a part to play in helping people find healing from self-image issues. But when I was commissioned to write The Mirror That Speaks Back, I knew there was no point trying to duplicate what was already out there, not least, because I’m not qualified to.

I knew from the moment I prayed, God’s prompting to share my story. I’ll admit that wasn’t easy – I am by nature an extremely private person. So you can imagine my ‘wobbles’ while writing some of that story – I even suggested to my editor, close to publication, that a certain scene might be deleted (they quite rightly disagreed!). That said, I still left out great chunks of my story that were just too painful or inappropriate to put on the page.

The book is aimed particularly at women younger than you – why is that? Your publisher likens it to a letter written to such women – is that how you viewed the writing of it? And how differently did you approach writing this book to others you have written in the past?

I was specifically commissioned to write a book for younger women, which I admit, I didn’t find easy. It’s been a while since I was their age and it’s not my usual genre.

I developed a questionnaire to help me connect with the issues young women struggle with, and to hear their take on faith and life, from their cultural perspective. I sent it to a number of contacts who came my way, some of whom forwarded it on, and some who kindly arranged for me to visit their groups in person, where the girls/young women answered the questions face-to-face on the basis I kept them anonymous. I always went armed with a ‘thank you’ tin of homemade cake and they were all great fun as well as extremely honest with me, which I have to say, was a privilege. In fact, they even had to explain a few terms to me, like, ‘contouring’!  Other young women returned the questionnaire to me by email; again, on the basis I gave them a pseudonym. And there were a few who posted it back anonymously.

Interestingly, however, although the pressure comes through different formats (social media, for example), self-image issues today are much like those when I was young.

Consequently, my approach to writing the book was different to others I’ve written in that I tried to keep the sub-themes of each chapter as short and succinct as possible, plus, of course, I wove in young women’s responses into the text (anonymously).

But even as I was writing, I sensed the book had potential to speak into lives of older women too – and that has proved true, both from reviews and from readers who have contacted me; the eldest, age 86!

Why does body image have such a huge effect on our identity as women?

I’d like to say it’s part of today’s culture, but I looked into the history while researching Mirror, and it’s been around for centuries; longer even than when beauty was defined by a flawless white complexion, and women painted their faces with deadly poison (powdered lead). Just bring to mind images of ancient Egyptian women with their lithe figures, painted faces, stylised hair and banded gold jewellery, and you can see what a history we’ve inherited.

So here’s a short answer to a massive question. We all have an innate longing to be valued and loved, and if we can’t achieve that through some definition of success, intellectual capacity, level of income or the ability to conceive and birth children, some of us might look to our body to help us attain it. Too often, however, no matter how much we squeeze, starve, cut, nip, enlarge, reduce, paint or pierce our body, it is simply never enough: that source of worth we’ve relied on to feel good about ourselves or attractive to a man, washes off in the bath, grows septic with infection, gains weight with a holiday or long-term medication, disfigures with illness, or simply fades and wrinkles with age. And time after time we’re left feeling inadequate, unattractive, unwanted, incapable, ashamed and unworthy, all because we’re sourcing our identity from the wrong place.

You cover illness – both physical and mental – and what effect it can have on our sense of self. What did you own journey with illness teach you about your sense of self-worth, and what did you learn from the other women whose stories you include?

Some of what I learned from other women is included in the book, but as for my own sense of self with my health issues, the key thing I was reminded of was: Who is in control of my life; Who knows my first and last breath, Who determines my days, and Whose love and care for me through painful symptoms and anxious appointments, is of far greater value to me than what I can do or how I appear.

Why do you think we seem to measure success in how we compare to others? How can we combat that?

We’ve been comparing ourselves against others since the beginning of time; it must be a part of our fallen nature, instead of just comparing ourselves with God and pursuing His goals for us (remember Cain and Abel, Esau and Jacob… in fact, Satan tempted Eve to compare her wisdom with God’s, and look what that made her do!).

But making comparisons is a lose-lose conundrum. Compare and then feel better than others spawns ungodly pride and potentially feeds a brash ego; compare and then feel lesser than others and you start believing you’re worthless, a failure, unattractive… and/or you grow bitter and resentful and nurse a critical spirit.  But compare yourself only to the person God created you to be and the best of the potential He has called you to pursue, and you’ve got reason to get out of bed each day, reassurance when you fail that God is for you and will help you try again, and nothing short of immense gratitude when you hit your God-given goal.

The image used throughout the book is that of a mirror – that Jesus is the only one who offers us a mirror that reflects our true image – who we are meant to be, unlike the cultural mirrors that reflect back to us that we are not worthy. How did you come to understand the truth of Jesus’ mirror in your own life?

That happened over time as my personal relationship with God developed; as I rooted my heart and not just my head belief in His love. A fundamental key, however, was engaging with the Bible – not just reading it, but getting it right inside me where it’s living power could do its work; and then, responding to it.

Do you truly believe we can learn to be content in God in the midst of anything life throws at us? How do we do that if so?

It’s a tough one. I’m constantly challenged by the messages I put out there about God’s truth, and how a westernised view can be so different to someone who has lost home, family and work, say, in Syria. All I know is that Paul found contentment in all circumstances – and it doesn’t take much reading of the New Testament to learn just how awful and tough his life often was (shipwreck, stoning almost to death, 40 lashes, starving, homeless a lot of the time… I could go on!)

So contentment in God is a truth that needs to be taught, but also in today’s context, and I know from reading books and articles by individuals who have suffered immensely in countries where the Christian faith is persecuted, that they too learned that same spiritual contentment as Paul did, in the dire confines of prison.

I’ve certainly never suffered to those extremes, but this promise is for me too, and I’ve had to ‘learn’ it during seasons of life that I found disheartening, in times when God prompted me to make one choice when I’d have much preferred making another, when my physical health took an unexpected dive and the future was uncertain, and in periods of grief for loved ones.

As for the how, I can only pass on what I have learned from Paul:

‘I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ….I want to know Christ…’ Philippians 3:8,10

It’s that ‘knowing’ Jesus, and living out the belief that He truly is our everything, that we ‘learn to be content whatever the circumstances.’ Philippians 4:11

What are some of the real nuggets of wisdom you’ve discovered for truly reflecting Jesus rather than giving in to our vulnerabilities and inadequacies?

Self-assurance, inner poise, a quiet confidence, security, peace with oneself and with others. It’s awesome to be released from a withered way of living life, especially when you’ve endured it for many years; to be freed from a mental and emotional prison which has locked you up from Christ’s promise of ‘life to the full’ (John 10:10) in the darkness of fear and debilitation.

Dotted about the book are wonderful quotes from women celebrating the role models in their own life that have inspired them and helped them see past the shallowness of looks. How important do you think it is for us all to have those women who champion and encourage us?  

I think role models are a gift and inspiration provided we don’t idolise them ie provided we don’t set ourselves up to try to be their clone. Be inspired by characteristics you admire, but ask yourself how that might helpfully shape your own life within parameters of your own skills, experiences, opportunities, background etc.

What other writing projects do you have planned?

Aside of a set of Bible notes coming out next February (alongside yours) and a novel still looking for an agent, I am currently working on my next book, which is due out sometime next year…watch this space; too early to unveil the plot!

Anne is the author of a number of Christian books and has written a wide variety of Bible-study notes and magazine articles. She also speaks at conferences and in churches around the country, with a passion to disciple Christians in their ongoing walk with God.

Married to Neil, Anne is also Granny to her daughter’s three young boys. To relax she loves to read, grow her own vegetables, hike the hills, and, when time allows, cook special meals for close friends. But she still dreams of becoming a bee-keeper!

You can follow Anne’s musings on Twitter @AnneLeTiss, Instagram @anneletissier, or take a look at her website: www.anneletissier.com