Day 213 - Rainmaker

 

It happened again this year.

It’s usually something which only the children notice. Every year, around the time that the children break up from school, the weather suddenly gets worse. Often, I’ve noticed, there are a few weeks, while the children are still at school, when the weather is great. Warm, sunny and cheerful. But as soon as children are free from school, the weather turns bad. I can’t explain it – but you could probably test my theory next year (if you and I are still around). It’s an irony. Murphy’s Law. It doesn’t make sense. I do feel that only the children notice it.

God allows it for purposes of his own. But, as I noted in my book Irony – what do such things say about the character of God?

 

I had a conversation with my brother about a topic similar to this. It went something like this:

Ad: “What about that hurricane in America – it’s looks pretty serious?”

Me: “Yes, it looks bad – I think some people are going to die because of it.”

Ad: “Not very nice of God, is it?”

Me (taking the bait): “I don’t think you can blame God for the weather.”

Ad: “You can’t blame God for the weather? Really? What can you blame him for then?”

 

Afterwards I thought a little about what my brother had said. And I thought he had a point. Global warming aside – there really is a sense in which God allows the weather we experience.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not a climate change denier – I really do think that mankind has pretty much caused havoc to this ecosystem which we call the earth, through lazy choices, lack of accountability and greed. But alongside that, I do think that it’s a bit of an excessive responsibility for mankind to take the blame for the effects of El Niño or the jet stream. Even if you were of the opinion that modern man was to blame for these things, there would have been a time in which we were not and maybe we are just in the grey area of only being partly to blame for it all. It’s not all our fault. Besides, the devil has a scorched earth policy.

That, of course, doesn’t help the child who notices that as soon as the summer holidays arrive it begins to rain heavily. And if God has allowed such things, then what does that say about the character of God? Is this sun really shining benevolently behind the rainclouds?

Check out my summer holiday theory next year – this year it wasn’t so obvious because there was a bit of rain before the holidays arrived. However, I did wake up on the first day of the holidays and instantly knew that the children were off school because it was such bad weather. I do think it proves Murphy’s Law (which is a little more optimistic than Sod’s Law in that it states that ‘IF anything can go wrong it will’ (implying that things can be prepared for), whereas Sod’s Law states that ‘Whatever you do, everything will go wrong at the worst possible time’). See, I’m really quite a positive person…

Of course, if, next year, the summer holidays do begin with fine weather then it will signify a kind of Sod’s Law now for me, but I will have also have single-handedly changed the weather pattern with these very words.

If I were praying, I might say: ‘Let the children have some decent weather, God. They are already under a lot of pressure and get too many nightmares of too many kinds. At least give them some half-decent weather.’

But I’m not.

And that wasn’t a prayer, it was me saying that if the Almighty wants praise, then he is going to have to take his share of the blame as well. By virtue of having greater responsibility due to having ultimate and absolute power.

Above these storm clouds, the sun may still be shining benevolently. Don’t get me wrong, that’s nice to think about.

But it’s not very helpful when you’re in a storm is it?

Day 206 - About these prayer strike blogs

 

I didn’t think that when I started this series of blogs that they would become so long-running. I had imagined I might post a few and then return to my normal topics and frequency of blogging. But then again, I imagined that God might attempt to resolve my issues with him.

I am planning to blog on my prayer strike till Christmas (which is day 365) and then, I guess, to return to my usual topics – unless something significant happens.

More broadly, I haven’t been writing on this topic alone. There have been other projects. One of which is a sequel to my piece - The Parable of the Cold Island.

I’ve also been working on a couple of other long-running projects including my first full length novel (Because Destiny and Dynasty is effectively novella length).

Writing, in and of itself, is a comfort to me. I may be on prayer strike, but unlike Hollywood, I am not on a writers’ strike. If I join the writers strike, it might be that the only warning you get is that I will suddenly go quiet.

So, if you can put up with this blog topic until Christmas, I will carry on with these weekly blogs.

I certainly don’t feel I am wearing God down. But, I suppose, when you have access to all known resources, you simply don’t get fatigue of any kind.

Of course, God could stop me writing at any moment, just as he stopped my brother from painting. I wouldn’t put it past him to do that. Everything else he does feels manipulative. I use the word ‘manipulative’ because I have lost count of the many things I have read which seem designed to ‘persuade’ me to pray again. They range from veiled threats through to something close to bribery. I mean, at least I have the self-awareness to admit to being manipulative in giving God the silent treatment...

I should probably pray that the Government repents or something. That would be a pertinent and necessary prayer. It is probably the kindest and most loving thing that anyone could say to our present regime. It would certainly make things a lot better for most of us if that prayer were answered.

So, just a short post this week to update you. I’m still not in significant talks with the Almighty. Prayers have been very, very few and far between. One telling God out loud that I am angry with him (as if he didn’t know). And another re-asserting my prayer requests – or ‘conditions’ as I should call them. In an absolute emergency or personal request from somebody, I would pray again, but as a one-off before resuming the prayer boycott.

The prayer strike continues and I am simply not praying… for as long as it takes to get past prayers answered.

Maybe, one day, I will look back on this sequence of blogs, feel ashamed and believe that I could have done things differently. But I don’t have that foresight right now.

Day 199 - About not reading the Bible

 

I really cannot tolerate much from the Bible at present and am not reading it at all. It is part of the strike, but also because I have no appetite for it. I can endure the most encouraging, sanitised bits presented before me, but even then, they seem largely useless to me.

My Bible, like that of many people, is simply gathering dust on a shelf. This supposed source of all truth lies neglected.

‘But it’s God’s love letter!’

Have you read it!?

Reading the Bible is one of those things you are ‘supposed’ to do after becoming a believer.

‘What do I do now?’

“Read the Bible. Go to church. Pray.’

‘Can I do anything else?’

‘Errr… you just focus on those things, and everything else will fall into place.’

‘But…’

‘Shhhh.’

I can read a few of the encouraging social media memes with Bible scriptures in them. Some of the quotes still sound hopeful to me. ‘And surely I am with you always, even to the very end of the age’. That kind of thing. But my brain is still full of the more unhelpful scriptures from the Bible. Rebukes, warnings and condemnations. And way too much about hell. It is only human to not be able to ignore these parts.

Maybe I’ll start reading it again if the prayer strike ends. But that only ends when past prayers get answered. And, at the moment, instead of anything approaching that happening, there is simply a lot of grief and difficult situations to tackle. Every day.

So, no brownie points for me for reading the Bible or praying. I’m not winning the spiritual holiness competition. Although I am still going to online church (or ‘the picket line’ as I call it). Maybe that should placate the ire of the Almighty. Or perhaps we just present a picture of God to everyone we meet and those of us who fear an angry God will find the evidence of him all around us. As the Bible says, ‘Seek and you shall find’.

I simply do not find the tone of the scriptures helpful at the moment. The Bible can sound authoritative – I mean, it is written in that way. The only other book which I have read which has a similar tone is the Quran. But that book has too little about love in it for my taste.

If the Bible is the map or manual for life which people say it is, why do believers argue about almost every direction given there? Also, it’s a very big ask to place all of your entire life under the discipline and authority of an ancient book which you have effectively learned after you learned to read. This goes for any book.

I can happily look at the book of nature and think about the Creator. But even reading that, there is evidence for a God who is not as benevolent as I would hope him to be. Nature can be red in tooth and claw.

And it’s okay for the Bible to tell everyone who reads it to repent, such things are allowed to be expressed. But am I to go around and tell everyone to repent too? No-one likes people who go around doing that. People have got their own consciences, some of them don’t need extra ones. Anyway, repentance is a journey.

Plus, what if you are in the process of repenting? The Bible’s advice – repent again? You can’t just broadcast that message to everyone – people are individuals and in different stages.

I do think that we present an image of the God we hold to be true. I had always hoped that he might be good, gentle and loving and the source of unconditional love. They say that this is the good news – that he really is all these things, as evidenced in the actions of Christ (maybe not so much in the words). But, if that is the case, why do we so rarely seem to experience this fabled love? And if we do not experience it – how on earth are we expected to share it with others? What is the point in telling people that they can live life in all its fullness if we are not doing so ourselves? But that’s the promise in the Bible – believe and you will have life in all its fullness. And if that doesn’t work out, what do you do then? Is it just user error if you do not? It’s not as if you can complain to anyone…

‘But you said ask and you shall receive, God. It seemed pretty clear.’

‘This is an angel here – we’re going to have to put you on hold again for a while. You’re number 234,323,221 in the complaints queue. Are you okay waiting? It’s sometimes slightly quicker if you message us online? The ‘answer prayers button ASAP’ button has been greyed out on your phone you say?

I’m not sure why, no. Have you tried clearing your cache?’

Day 192 - A memory

 

During my brother’s illness, I kept a personal record of the events, largely for personal therapy, but also to document incidents like a specialist doctor asking for thousands of pounds for a simple consultation. Or dubious medical trials which would have cost hundreds of thousands of pounds.

I have just re-read one of my last memories of Ad. On the whole, I don’t like to think of how he was in those final days, but this memory was not so bad. It was the last time I was alone with my brother. It was about a month before he died and we had gone down to see him at his rented house. He developed Wernicke’s aphasia at the end, which meant it became difficult to communicate with him. No-one told us that this might happen. When it did, it was only The Brain Tumour Charity website which explained any of it. The conversations, as remarked by one of Ad’s friends became increasingly ‘surreal’…. He thought he was making sense when he talked, but the words came out all mixed up.

 

November 19^th 2022

We drove and saw Ad and his girlfriend who is also dying of cancer. She is a writer too.

We shopped for some essentials and when we got there it was clear that Ad’s girlfriend had tidied and made everything as cosy as possible, in the face of the cold austerity and sheer pain of the cancer. She had even managed to get some more comfortable covers onto the hospital bed – the bed which my brother thinks is horrendous and unnecessary. I gave them their gifts which included a good writer’s book, a Celtic pen, a notepad and some personal care items. Ad got a good first aid pack (which he liked), a renewal of his website, a small torch, some quality underwear, some tobacco with papers and a lighter. And food essentials. And a message from us in a bottle which read, ‘We all love you’. Except, because of the aphasia I don’t think he will read it himself.

He was in a relatively good mood, significantly helped by some privately prescribed but legal liquid cannabis he had had to pay for – which had already proved to be very helpful. I’m all for that kind of palliative care. As much pain relief in whatever way possible as far as I’m concerned.

He spoke a lot about ‘crisps’ and I don’t think any of us knew what he was referring to, except we gathered that ‘crisps’ were a good thing.

He looks bigger now, because of the steroids, as he did when he was a boy. His hair shorter again. But still the fierce intelligence in the eyes. He has weeks, that’s all I know. He is half aware of some of it at times, but then at other times thinks he has longer, because he feels okay. But he cannot manage hills now. He can still walk a little.

We sat on a bench in a graveyard to watch the sunset and talked about nature and some other things. We looked down together across the valley where he lived, still beautiful even at this time of the year. The sunset was really quite peaceful until a neighbour decided to mess with some plants nearby at the point when we might have been alone. I wished the neighbour wasn’t there. Someone else waved at us from a distance. They walked all the way over to us and stared at me.

“I thought you were someone else,” said one of them, as if I had somehow deceived them and was to blame. They walked on.

The sun began to set and I tried to listen and speak with my brother. Some of the conversion seemed to make sense to him. Some of it made sense to me. In the end he raised his walking stick to the sun and asked God for some more years. I guess he has reached bargaining stage.

Afterwards we left the bench and the graveyard and met up with the others. Then it was as if there were a change, a shift somehow, and my brother said:

“Where is my brother, Nick? Where is she?”

I, startled, replied, “She sends her love.”

I don’t want to read more of these notes I have – I’m not sure there is much that is particularly helpful there. They document my feelings and how difficult so much of the search for medical trials was. I’m not sure there is anything especially helpful in them. It was just that this was one of the final times that I saw him, before hospital, and, in a way, I wanted to remember that again. They are both gone now, my brother and his girlfriend – both from cancer.

I cannot currently foresee a time when we will not so intensely miss them both.