HOPE, HEALING & A GIVEAWAY

I've just finished reading a gorgeous debut novel by Joy Margetts and am excited to have her as my guest today, talking about her journey of healing and hope. I've been reading about and studying HOPE a lot recently, ever since the New Year. You may have seen my social media posts about HOPE, choosing to pitch my tent in the land of hope, the thrill of hope - and don't we all need HOPE right now? Discovering and reading a book where the theme is a journey of hope has brought me enormous joy and I thought you'd enjoy it too.

Joy has a free signed copy to send to one of my readers - keep reading for info on how to have your name included to be in with a chance ….

Joy writes:

‘Impossible to read without encountering hope’

I was so thrilled by these words, written by one of the very first people to read my book The Healing. He was a dear retired pastor friend who I had nervously approached to read and endorse the book. His words now appear inside the book, and on its back cover. I was thrilled because I very much wanted my book to carry a message of hope.

My own story is reflected in much of the story of the main character of the book, Philip de Braose. Except of course he is a world wearied mediaeval knight, and I am a fifty -something mother of two. But like Philip, I have had to take a journey, from despair to hope, from brokenness to redemptive healing. So much of what Philip learns, particularly from the wise words of his new friend, the Cistercian brother Hywel, are things that God has lovingly and gently taught me, or in some cases reminded me of, during my own journey of healing.

When I was at my lowest point, when every part of my life seemed to have been torn apart by the effects of an unexpected and debilitating illness, I fought the very real fight against despair. A good friend, my brother Hywel, lovingly reminded me that I had a choice. I knew God. I knew the Word of God and His promises. I had to choose in that moment to believe what God had said to me, and about me; to trust Him for my present and for my future, and to choose hope over despair. So that I did. Daily. Some days it was an act of will, devoid of any emotion, but it began to take effect. I went back to the word of God and found promises, and claimed them for myself. One really important one for me was Jer 31:3

‘I have loved you with an everlasting love. Therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you. Again I will build you and you will be rebuilt’                                                                                                                    (NKJV)

I knew in my Spirt that this was a promise for me. God never leaves us in ash heaps. His desire is always to turn our ashes into beauty and our mourning into joy. I chose to believe His promise, that He would rebuild the ruins of my life into something beautiful for Him. Just making that choice to choose hope became the key to the rest of my healing journey.

In The Healing, Brother Hywel has the same advice for Philip, 

‘…Now, Philip, I am urging you to choose hope. You can let the despair take you, or you can choose another way.’ 

‘How?’ It was a one-word muffled response, forced out from where he lay, his face still covered. 

‘I know it seems an impossibility to you, that there could be something better for you than this life here and now. Or a life better than your life that has passed before. But surely choosing to believe there could be is better than believing that there definitely isn’t…’ Hywel paused for a few moments before asking, ‘Have you faith in God?’ 

‘I did have once.’ 

‘Then there is definitely hope for you.’                                                    

(THE HEALING p29)

The Bible tells us in Heb 11.1 that this sort of hope requires faith. We use the word ‘hope’ lightly in day to day conversation -  ‘ I hope it’s sunny tomorrow’ – but that sort of hope is just wishful thinking. The hope God offers is one based on our faith in Him, a sure certain hope, that He will do all that He has promised. It is a hope we can base our lives on. Choosing hope is choosing to believe, and choosing to believe brings hope! Whatever your situation, I hope you have faith enough to choose to hope today.

Philip chose hope and he began his journey out of despair. The Healing tells his story as he grows in his experience of the healing and restorative power of God. God bit by bit rebuilds his life and gives him a future better than he ever could have imagined. 

Just like He has mine.

TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY OF A FREE SIGNED COPY OF THE HEALING:

hit reply, and email me to tell me where you are finding  more hope in your life right now.

One person will be randomly selected and Joy will send a free signed copy!

My review on Goodreads:

The young Philip de Braose has escaped his broken and wounded past by becoming a mercenary soldier fighting in France. This lovely book is the story of his journey, his pilgrimage, back to Wales in the company of a Cistercian monk, who rescues him physically, emotionally and spiritually through stories and actions, words and deeds.
Their journey to Wales is beautifully told, in ways that will heal your soul and bring balm to your spirit. It's a pilgrimage of hope, of restoration and renewal; of forgiveness and finding the way home. With a surprising ending.
If you like historical fiction - or actually even if it's not your chosen genre - I'm sure you'll enjoy this gentle yet powerful story, wisely told and engagingly recounted.

I received a free copy, but was under no obligation to give a favourable review. This is my own personal view of The Healing.

click on Joy’s photo to buy your signed copy of the book (link takes you to her website)

* * * * *

Congratulations to Elaine Evans, who was randomly selected last month for the signed copy of Ruth Leigh’s THE DIARY OF ISABELLE M. SMUGGE.

* * * * *

The second wonderful book, that also brings hope in hard places, is by my dear friend and former training incumbent, the Revd John Yates.

John writes:

Many years ago I wrote a book specifically for men, a book of guidance about prayer. It grew out of my ministry with men in Falls Church who were learning about Christian manhood and family responsibilities. They wanted to know about prayer, how prayer works and how they could learn to pray. They wanted to know how to pray for themselves and for their families. Unexpectedly the teaching led to a kind of revolution among our men in the area of prayer.
That book went through various editings and printings with different publishers. I moved on to other things and eventually let the book get out of print. I have been surprised however in the last few years that people have continued to ask for it. It seems that some people think the message is still relevant.
So, recently I worked through the book, made some changes and we have re-published it. In all of your relationships and your work for the kingdom you may know some people who would find this book helpful.

Click on the link below to order your copy:

Enjoy your reading!

I'd love to know where you are finding HOPE in your life right now so do hit reply and tell me!

Plus - you can find daily inspiration (well, most days! We're under grace not law, right?!) help and HOPE on the closed Facebook group SPARKLE AND GO DEEPER.

Click here and come over and join us! We're growing in numbers and comments show that people are finding it helpful. There's a free little ebook when you join:
BECOMING YOUR BEST YOU - 6 easy first steps to living your best life

AND ONE MORE BOOK! Last Monday was International Women’s Day and to celebrate, signed vintage copies of my first book, WOMEN BY DESIGN, were on special offer at just £2 each (plus p+p). You can still order at the special price HERE

Next update from me will be the end of March - when hopefully the beginnings of the end of Lockdown in the UK will be nearly upon us! Not that I’m wishing my life away, but don’t we all need to do all we can to hasten the end of the pandemic and the lockdown ….

May you know how lavishly your Heavenly Father loves you,

from

- Penelope x

The insidious creepingness of all faiths and none

I am writing a daily blog (Monday to Friday)  on preparing spiritually and physically

to lead a Pilgrimage of 100 miles in September.

for details of the Pilgrimage, click on the dropdown Cotwold Pilgrimage bar at the top of this page 

Elation and excitement.

Arriving at Highgrove, home of HRH The Prince of Wales.

Being waved through the gate, shown where to park.

And Leave your cameras and mobile phones in your car. No photos. None whatsoever

Welcomed and led into the Gardens.

Our Guide, she was all pink and purple, with a peep of bright green wellies..

-Now, d’you see? she says, pointing out this plant and that.

- And His Royal Highness has such good sense of humour: d’you see? and she waves at the duck egg blue board which proclaimed: Entering an old fashioned establishment. GMO free.

- He is such a fun gracious man, she enthuses. He plans it all, chooses the plants.

He wants a garden which delights the eye, warms the heart, feeds the soul.

- D’you see that little statue? A thank you from the Welsh children’s charity.  He has them here for a Christmas party every year.

- Oh and when he takes us round each year and points out all the new things, it’s such an honour.  D’you see?

We did see – and there’s the boss!

That IS him, isn’t it, my boss, the Bishop of London.  Beheaded and on top of the wall.

- Are you a Vicar then, she enquires wide eyed? Yes, that’s the Bishop of London. And the other heads too: all people that the Prince admires. Dr Kathleen Raine, the poet and scholar; Sir John Taverner, the composer; Dr Vandana Shiva, the environmental campaigner. D’you see?

The rain is obliging and holds off. It’s damp and windy but dry.

And there we are, standing at the front door of the house.

Right at the front door. Did you ever think you would get this close, she asks? He wants you to see it all.

We do, we are -  in awe and wonder.

Is that his bedroom window, opened a crack, curtains parted? Does he sit hereon this garden bench? And here? He must be glad when we all are gone.

- And one last thing, she promises, d’you see? D’you see this plain wall and these simple wood doors?

She throws them open. The Carpet Garden. Based on the design of a Turkish carpet in the house.

It’s so beautiful, calm, tranquil. D’you see?

Nature to heal and restore the soul.

Healing plants.

Life giving water properties.

All the best of the Islamic faith, nurturing and healing and life restoring. Not what you read of when the extremists get hold of the faith; but Islam at its best, its basis. A place for nurturing and restoration.  D’you see?

And I want to cry out, to intervene.

We are being fed snippets of positive Islamic faith.  Were I to do the same with my Christian faith, I would be hounded down.

But it’s there in our culture each day.

The insidious, creeping takeover – whether it’s gay lifestyle, civil marriages, all faiths and none:

just as long as it isn’t Christian.

You can do what you like, say what you like, believe what you like – as long as it’s not Christian.

I gaze up at the The Crescent which dominates this beautiful garden.

And I don’t say a word.

My silence is my acquiessence.

What might Ann have said? http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/06/what-in-the-world-should-christians-wear/

Why in the world don’t I say these words aloud to strangers more often? Why don’t I live them more clearly? I am ashamed of how many times, unlike the apostle Paul, I have been ashamed of the gospel, the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes (Romans 1:16)

And what are we really here to do but to live the Great Commission — not the Great Optional? 

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?

OR SAID?

Or even thought?

Our Guide smiles.

- Your Champagne tea awaits. She points to the tea room.

And I gratefully flee.

THE SECRET GARDEN

I pick it up.  A large, beautiful, Folio edition, green bound and illustrated. Caress it, remember it, wondering where is the copy I read as a child?

Maybe a daughter has it on her shelves – or more likely in her boxes hidden in our attic cupboards. So I lift the unread copy from my shelf, and begin to read, in readiness for the first gathering of we who have decided to read children’s books for fun.

The heroine: Mary Lennox.  A sickly, wan, sticky sort of girl, one who stamps her feet and shouts. I remember disliking her intensely. And feeling she did not deserve to be rescued.

Who does?

Then there was Dickon.  Almost too perfect, knowing so much at the tender age of 12. Free to roam the moors. An animal charmer. Lover of fresh air and gardening.

And Colin. Scary Colin in that scary house.  A secret, hidden down long corridors. He, it, frightened me. Deliciously. Tapestries and rich hangings, four poster beds and heaps of cushions. Chamber maids and house maids, cooks and gardeners. Way out of my experience.

I liked the robin best. He knew where the key was hidden. And Martha.  Not that I could understand much of what she said, but I learnt, along with Mary.

And like Mary, too, I learnt about the Magic.

To the child who was me it seemed quite natural and almost romantic: positive thoughts pushing up along with the crocuses and daffodils, making everything all right again – Colin and his not-so-twisted back, Mr Craven and his despairing, traumatised sadness, Mary and her loneliness.

In the secrets of the garden, everything comes alive, nature and people alike, and spiritual and physical healing is experienced as the beloved roses begin to bloom again.

And they all lived happily ever after. Or so I assumed.

So now, I begin to read it all again. And this time there is sadness and sympathy for those poor lost ill-tempered children.

Admiration for Martha’s mother.

Amazement that the staff stick around.

And compassion and empathy, oh, so much empathy, for bereaved, crazed Mr Craven, travelling to escape, travelling to forget.

I race through the book, devouring pages, staying up late to read.  After sixteen months of not remembering much of anything read, I find I am captivated and able to recall so much of what was read as a child.  A child of ten, maybe eleven.  Primary School, certainly.

I knew little of what I now see.

The emotional bruising and scarring of adults and children alike in this Craven/Lennox family.  A fallen world.

Madness and loneliness and death and bereavement, all mixed up and changing those affected. Like me.

The ‘earth-mother-ish-ness’ and healing ways of Mrs Sowerby, Dickon and Martha’s mother. Is she a Mary figure?

Dickon as a young St Francis, with animals his constant companions.

And the garden itself, the archytypal paradise of the Garden of Eden, bringing healing to those who find it.

But now, as I read, I wonder about the author and my curiosity searches.  And I learn of this young Englishwoman from nineteenth century industrial Manchester, emigrating to rural Tennessee, scribbling to supplement the family income in the aftermath of the American Civil War.

Of her unhappy marriage.

Her own illnesses.

The death of her son from consumption.

Her divorce.

Her success as a writer, giving her financial freedom to return to England and rent a large country house – with a walled garden.

And her spiritual journey, her adherence to Theosophy, Christian Science, Mind Healing.

I’m glad I now know more.  But I’m glad too that I could read it both as child and adult with the glorious anticipation that all would come right, that there would be healing and joy again.

And so there can be.

We need the Holy Spirit, winged and red-fire, to point the way.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13, NKJV