Emma Tanner

A Work in Progress

Jan 8

Surface Pressure

by Emma Tanner

There’s something about the start of a new year that makes us reflective. When that coincides with a new Disney movie with a killer soundtrack…. double whammy. I am a Disney girl through and through, and when Disney meets the lyrical and musical genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda, what can possibly go wrong?!

I can’t stop listening to this particular song from Encanto, sung by Jessica Darrow, the voice of Luisa. (Do click and listen to it if you haven’t already!)

Ouch.

I know so many people who, like Luisa, are carrying so much at the moment. Who feel the weight of pressure and expectation, from family, and friends, from the churches they lead, or the teams they manage, or the people they work alongside. Who are supporting people in many areas of their life, and feel like there is a crushing weight on their shoulders. Who feel like they need to be the strong one; that without them being that to so many other people, the house of cards would come crashing down.

Some of those lyrics are almost painfully resonant for me.

“Under the surface
I’m pretty sure I’m worthless if I can’t be of service…”

“Give it to your sister, it doesn’t hurt and
See if she can handle every family burden
Watch as she buckles and bends but never breaks
No mistakes, just

Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won’t let go, woah
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick ’til it’s ready to blow, woah-oh-oh…”

When we have a lot going on, when we are juggling so many balls that dropping one is inevitable- and we just hope that the one we drop bounces rather than shatters- it is so easy to look inwards. To pull up the metaphorical drawbridge, and withdraw. To tell ourselves we can only rely on us, that we are the only ones who can sort this, that no-one else can help, that everyone else has loads going on as well so we must just suck it up and keep going. Grin and bear it. Stiff upper lip and all that.

The problem with that is that it’s not true, and it doesn’t work.

A couple of months ago, I was wrestling with a family crisis. It came to a head on a Sunday morning, and I found myself on the sidelines of an under 14s football match having a minor breakdown (internally, of course, I’m very British) whilst simultaneously trying to cheer on my daughter and her teammates and make small talk with the football mums. When it all got a bit much (pressure like a tick, tick, tick ’til it’s ready to blow, woah-oh-oh…) I took myself off for a walk. It didn’t help that all the people I might have felt able to talk to were in church, and uncontactable. I also mentally ruled out quite a few others, on the grounds that they were all battling even bigger demons and I didn’t want to add to their stress. I started having a very self-pitying conversation with myself.

“No-one is here for you. You’re always there for everybody else, but when you need someone, there’s no-one here.”

“No one cares.”

“You’d better sort it on your own, as usual.”

What a load of egocentric, ridiculous clap-trap.

With the benefit of hindsight, and when my brain isn’t in crisis mode and can think a bit more rationally, I can recognise and call out the BS. And thankfully, God helped me to do that in the moment, too.

I was on the verge of losing it and succumbing to hysterics and I started praying as I was walking. I felt prompted to put on my spiritual armour, and I started praying Ephesians 6.

“Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.”

Ephesians 6:13-18, The Message

God reminded me that he was in control. That his resources of love and grace and peace were infinite, and more than enough to cover this (and any) situation. That I didn’t need to carry burdens that were never intended for me to bear alone- Jesus has already gone ahead and done that. I just needed to trust him with them, and hand them over. What a relief.

The other thing he prompted me to do was to reach out to a few trusted friends and ask them to pray, which I did. The next day I opened up to a couple of those friends, and- much like Luisa Madrigal in Encanto- felt so much better for being honest about what was happening and how I was feeling. People can’t stand alongside us if they don’t know anything is wrong; if we don’t let them in.

I’ve been reading Dare to Lead by Brene Brown, which talks a lot about the importance of vulnerability; of being prepared to be open and truthful with those around us about how we are feeling. I’ve found it both thought-provoking and challenging. It’s definitely made me change how I try and lead my team, and how I interact with those around me. Being honest and vulnerable with other people gives them permission to be honest with us, too, and to reach out for help when they need it.

I think often (especially in good-girl circles- I’ve written about that concept before-) there is the temptation to think that we are somehow letting the side down if we admit that things are less than perfect, or that we have a problem. We prefer to be the ones helping than the ones accepting help, or acknowledging that we need it.

WE ARE FINE. Except for when we’re not.

“But wait
If I could shake the crushing weight
Of expectations would that free some room up for joy
Or relaxation? Or simple pleasure?
Instead we measure this growing pressure
Keeps growing, keep going…”

I think that freeing up some room for joy, relaxation and pleasure sounds like a good thing to aim for this new year. That might mean letting go of other peoples’ expectations, or our own- being kinder to ourselves. It may mean letting go of some burdens that we don’t need to be carrying, or starting to share them with other people- or even better, surrendering them to Jesus, whose shoulders are infinitely broader than our own.

It may mean being intentional, unapologetically carving out time for those things that restore our souls and fill up our emotional tanks, equipping us for whatever we are facing in our day-to-day. Yes, we’re all busy, but those things- whether they’re quiet times, country walks, spending time with friends, spa days, cycle rides, DIY, reading, writing- it’s different for each of us- can be the life-saving pressure valve that prevent us from blowing.

It may also mean watching more Disney films. And listening to more Lin-Manuel Miranda. On that note, I think I may go re-watch Moana….

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Apr 14

The Complicated Process of Unlocking

by Emma Tanner
Waiting to get into Primark in Norwich- Sky News

This week saw a significant lifting of lockdown restrictions in England. As well as continuing to meet our nearest and dearest outside, some of the things we are now able to do include go to the shops, have a haircut, have a pint in the pub- outside, of course- visit the gym, go for a day out to the zoo or a theme park, or attend an indoor parent and child group. For many it feels like a welcome step on the road to recovery.

I saw a fair few judgy social media posts yesterday, however, which put me into reflective mode. People loftily saying they couldn’t understand why on earth people felt the need to rush to Primark (“I bet they’ve sold out of leggings” said someone rather cattily) ; that they for one wouldn’t be rushing to visit the shops/go to the hairdressers/pub/insert whatever activity they are not interested in here.

This made me check myself, as well. Although I haven’t posted publicly, I confess that I, too, have harboured some similar thoughts. From the privileged position of being able to afford a holiday in the UK, and not having any loved ones abroad, I have pondered in a rather judgemental way about why some people are so keen for a trip abroad this summer. In a work context, too, I have been tempted to make comparisons with other organisations; to be critical of other peoples’ decision-making, whether I perceive that to be too ‘gung ho’, or too risk averse.

Whatever the context, if it doesn’t match up with the position that we have decided we are comfortable with, the temptation is to make ourselves feel better about our own choices by criticising other peoples’.

The fact is, however, that although we have all experienced a collective trauma, we have all experienced it in different ways. And there is no doubt that some of us have been shielded from its effects more than others.

For some, their very personal experience of the loss of a loved one, or prolonged shielding due to chronic illness or disability, is understandably the lens through which they are looking at the world at the moment. For others, having to stay at home has not meant staying safe and comfortable, but instead has meant stress, danger, or mental heath crisis. Workers from many sectors have not been able to work from home. For those already on a low income, being furloughed has meant being unable to make ends meet. Some of those who are self-employed or own their own businesses in badly affected sectors have fallen through the cracks of government support altogether.

We have witnessed first-hand at the Princess Project how disadvantaged communities have disproportionately experienced the effects of covid. Many families that were already on low incomes have had to make impossibly hard choices every day: between buying food, and nappies, or paying the rent or utility bills. Research from the Joseph Rowntree Foundation and Little Village, a London-based baby bank, found that across the UK, 34% of children in households where there are children under 5 are now in poverty. More than half of the worst-off parents have had to borrow to cover basic costs such as housing and food in the past year.

Interestingly, the Little Village report also looks at the 2020 British Social Attitudes survey. Whilst 98% of people think that it’s important to reduce child poverty in Britain, a majority lay the blame for that poverty on parents themselves- 75% think that drug and alcohol problems are the underlying cause, and 63% believe that children are in poverty because their parents choose not to work. We humans really are a pretty judgemental bunch.

If our personal experiences of the pandemic differ so widely, surely it shouldn’t surprise us that our coping mechanisms for both lockdown, and emerging from it, will differ too. A long-awaited trip to Primark may be the only way that a mum on a low income can afford new clothes for a child that’s been growing like a triffid during lockdown, or a lifeline for a fashion-loving teenager who has been denied so many opportunities this year and whose mental health is suffering as a result. Or it may just be that people are craving a bit of normality, and a trip to the high street gives them that.

We can never can fully understand someone else’s story, or the decisions they make- that’s why judging those decisions is a dangerous game. That person who looks like they have it all together on social media is really hanging by a thread. That ‘perfect family’ is really anything but.

What is becoming apparent is that emerging from lockdown is going to be infinitely more complicated than entering it. Some may be keen to exercise any new freedom immediately, and to the full. Others may be more cautious. Both are OK. I think we take the moral high-ground about the choices we make at our peril.

Maybe (and this is very much a note to self as much as a call to action) we could all commit to thoughtfully making the decisions we think are right for us, our families, or the teams and organisations and businesses we lead, and supporting our friends, loved ones and colleagues in their decisions, even when they look different to ours. I think that’s the only way we will be able to emerge successfully, together.

References:

It takes a village: how to make all childhoods matter (Little Village/JRF, February 2021)
Caught in a (Covid) trap (Karl Handscomb and Lindsay Judge, Resolution Foundation, November 2020)
Call for a stronger social security lifeline for our children (JRF/Save the Children, July 2020) British Social Attitudes, series 37 (The National Centre for Social Research, 2020)


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Nov 17

Soul food

by Emma Tanner
Beach huts at Herne Bay

As countless others have observed, we all find ourselves in a strange season at the moment. For most of us this has involved change. For some, this has meant an enforced slowing of pace, though furlough or unemployment. For those of us fortunate enough to still be working, though, work is often busier (and more intense) than ever. My work definitely falls into this category.

I have found it increasingly difficult to keep my work/home boundaries precise- they have a tendency to become distinctly blurry. I find myself working more hours and longer days.

It feels like God has been prodding me about that recently. My colleague Beth and I had a meeting with our Cinnamon mentor this week. On hearing how busy we were, how we had new developments on several fronts, new opportunities, more and more referrals, he ever-so-gently reminded us of the importance of making sure we had enough capacity for all of it; to look after ourselves and manage our time sensibly, to avoid burning out. At our staff meeting this week, I took the opportunity to remind the team of the importance of not routinely working loads of extra hours, of taking time back in lieu, and taking holiday.

Even as I said it, I thought about the kind of example I was setting by doing exactly what I was saying not to do. Ouch… I was reminded of Alice in Wonderland’s famous words:

“That’s just the trouble with me, I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

How can I ask my team to do something, and then not do it myself?! Effective leadership, wherever we do it- parenting, in the workplace, at church- is always less about talking and more about modelling.

We are in the middle of 21 days of prayer and fasting at church. On our Sunday morning Zoom call we heard wise words from several people about the importance of finding God in the everyday moments, and having an attitude of prayer. This was another timely reminder for me. We don’t need to create an artificial secular/sacred divide. God made us. Our wonderfully unique personalities are not an accident. Our souls are not separate from our bodies. We are one whole, messy entity. The great news about a relational God who loves to spend time with us is that it doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing, He can still hear us, and speak to us. So it is totally fine to spend time with God doing what recharges your batteries; what fills your emotional tank and feeds your soul.

I realised I needed to put into practice what I was preaching, and take back some of those extra hours I had been working (as a small charity we can’t afford to pay overtime, so encourage our team to take back extra hours worked as time off in lieu). The to-do list will never be clear. There is never an ideal time to take time off. But it is vital (and no-one is indispensible, despite what our egos may tell us). So I booked today off.

After half an hour clearing essential emails and making sure all was relatively quiet on the Western front (baby steps and all!) I drove to beautiful Tankerton. I walked 5.5km to Herne Bay, with my headphones on, listening to worship music, and letting truths about God wash over me. As is so often the case with a playlist on shuffle, I end up hearing just what I need to hear. For the first half an hour, I just listened to Goodness of God on repeat.

I didn’t even really consciously pray. I gave the morning to God, and breathed the sea air, and walked in His presence; I took pictures of cute beach huts and little scurrying birds, and watched toddlers wobble on bikes and dogs bound exuberantly off their leads. It was joyous.

When I got to Herne Bay I ate sausage and chips on the beach, closely eyeballed by several large seagulls. I didn’t feel in the least bit guilty, because did I mention I just walked 5.5km. (I don’t really understand the calorie exchange but pretty sure that’s enough to cancel it our, right?!)

There were fewer people around on the way back, so I felt able to sing my praises into the wind. Sometimes on a day like this, I get some clarity about a particular issue, a revelation, a new idea; it can feel like God is downloading stuff into my brain. It wasn’t like that today. Our daddy God knows what we need. Today, He knew I just needed to be in His presence, to remind myself who He was, and who I am- a daughter of the King.

I was only gone for about 4 and a half hours, but I know that that relatively small time investment will pay dividends over the coming days and weeks. Working, serving and loving from a place of Holy Spirit fullness is so much better for us than running on empty. I hope that by sharing this today, it will be the affirmation that someone else needs to refuel- whatever that looks like for them.

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Jun 28

Frozen Revisited

by Emma Tanner
Show Yourself, from Frozen 2

Yesterday I was doing some cleaning whilst belting out songs from my Disney playlist (don’t judge- it turns out both Snow White and Mary Poppins had a point, this does actually make menial household tasks more enjoyable). One song I kept coming back to was Show Yourself, from Frozen 2. I love that song. I love that movie (nearly as much as I loved the first one). I remember so clearly going to see Frozen at the cinema back in January 2014, accompanied by my over-excited 8 and 5 year old daughters, and a long suffering husband (who secretly really enjoyed it too). I was transfixed from the beginning. Never have I identified with a character on screen as much as I identified with Elsa (see Fearless not Frozen, and Good Girls (and why we shouldn’t always try to be one)).

Fast forward 6 years, and in Frozen 2 Elsa continues her journey of self-discovery. She discovers both the origin and the purpose of her powers, and finds freedom in finally being able to express them fully (with the help and support of her loved ones).

Channelling my inner Idina Menzel (sorry, nighbours) made me stop, and look back. This is a good thing to do every so often. All through the Bible God reminds His people of the importance of remembering what He has done for them. In the Old Testament, God tells Joshua to make a memorial to remember the miracle He had just done:

“In the future your children will ask you. ‘What do these stones mean?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a memorial among the people of Israel forever.”

Joshua 4:6-7

Back in 2014, The Princess Project was just a few years old, and I was juggling running that with working part-time as a vet and being around as much as possible for my husband and my girls. I was just beginning to step out into a new season- into God’s plan for my life.

Six years on, so much has changed. Things have changed on the outside, sure- if you had told me in 2014 that I’d be working full-time for PP with a fantastic team of four ladies alongside me, that we would be being mentored to replicate on a national scale, that I would be regularly speaking in public- I would have laughed at you (or cried, or run away). But it is what God has been doing on the inside that has been the real miracle.

For the first time in my life, I am comfortable in my own skin. Like Elsa, I have accepted who I am. In 2018, we sang a song in church for the first time that impacted me profoundly. I remember listening to and then singing these words, with tears pouring down my face:

Who the Son sets free

Oh is free indeed

I’m a child of God

Yes I am

In my Father’s house

There’s a place for me

I’m a child of God

Yes I am

I am chosen

Not forsaken

I am who You say I am

You are for me

Not against me

I am who You say I am…

Who You Say I Am- Hillsong Worship

As I sang, I found myself letting go of all the words that other people had spoken over me, that I didn’t even realise I had been carrying around. Superior. Judgemental. Stand-offish. Guarded. As I sang, I really started to believe the words I was singing. I wasn’t who anyone else said I was. I was who God said I was. I felt the weight lift.

I realised that God had made me the way I am. I knew that I was His daughter, and that nothing else really mattered. I knew I had to let go of other people’s expectations and acknowledge that living up to those was impossible. For the first time I was able to make peace with, even embrace, my often misunderstood introvert self; the one that prefers writing to speaking, struggles with many social situations, and needs time alone to relax and recharge.

I received a fresh understanding of the unconditional nature of God’s love for us. He gives us work to do, calls us for a purpose- but His love for us is not contingent on us carrying it out. He knows us better than we know ourselves and if we choose to be obedient to His call, then that will lead to a freedom and a fulfilment like no other. And our calling doesn’t need to be a dramatic one; usually it just looks like lots of little everyday decisions to be faithful to what God has asked of us, and true to ourselves.

Rumour has it that there will be a Frozen 3 one day (yay!) If so, I look forward to discovering the next instalment of Elsa’s journey, and also to taking the opportunity to look back and reflect on mine. I am certain there will be lots to be thankful for.

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Jun 8

Finding Solid Ground

by Emma Tanner

Have you ever walked along a sandy beach when the tide has just gone out, when it’s hard to tell what surface your feet find with each step? Solid, dry, compacted sand; a wet salty puddle; sinky mud… you have to consciously think about where you’re walking, make adjustments, meander around to adapt to the terrain. A far cry from walking along a straight, paved path, when you don’t really need to think about what your feet are doing at all.

To me, the last few weeks and months have felt like walking on that sand. It feels like everything has been shaken, and that merely attempting to keep walking requires concentration and effort and a lot more energy than usual. Nothing is as it was. The measures we have had to adopt in response to covid-19 have affected every aspect of our lives. Home life has changed, as we have had to adapt to either spending most of our time cloistered away with the ones we love (who also happen to be the ones who can drive us bonkers!), or to being alone. The way we connect with friends and family has changed- from the national discovery of Zoom, in all it’s useful-but-a-bit-annoying glory, to, more recently, socially distanced walks and picnics with a chosen few. Work has changed. For some, work has come to an end, at least temporarily. Others are trying to juggle working at home with home schooling. Those of us in charge of businesses and workplaces are having to constantly adapt and refine our ways of working to cope with latest guidelines and developments. Church has changed, moving into homes and online into Zoom calls and YouTube services and live Facebook streams.

Against this backdrop came the killing of George Floyd, the catalyst for the release of a tsunami of pent-up hurt and anger and frustration across the world. That event, and varying reactions to it, prompted the beginning of a series of conversations in our multicultural church. Watching those conversations on the television, and having them myself with my black friends, has been challenging, uncomfortable, and revelatory. As shocking and awful as the video from the USA was, it seemed somewhat removed from the situation here in the UK. What has opened my eyes and broken my heart is hearing about the everyday lived experiences of black people in our own communities. Watching the youth pastor speak of his worries about his children’s future with tears rolling down his cheeks. Seeing a confident young man lost for words and choked with emotion trying to express how the drip, drip, drip of casual, covert racism has affected every area of his life. Hearing about a side of my black friends’ lives that, to my shame, I had never really thought about before. Listening to stories, and feelings and emotions that have been long suppressed but are now resurfacing. Scratch the surface and there is so much hurt and pain; this seems to be the big social justice issue that has been right under our noses this whole time but rarely acknowledged, let alone discussed. It feels like we are at a momentous cross-roads, at the beginning of a journey of listening, repentance where needed, reconciliation and change. It will likely be bumpy and difficult in places but we trust that it will lead us to a better place than where we are now.

All of these things can leave us feeling like the ground is shifting beneath our feet. It can be disorientating and unsettling. This morning I woke up and knew that I needed a bit of a reset. I’ve written before about my favourite way to get my head around tricky stuff– trainers, headphones, worship playlist, Mote Park. I love how the park is always there, a constant, despite changing weather and seasons and degrees of busyness. I find walking the familiar paths whilst praying and worshipping helps soothe my soul, order my thoughts, and listen to God. Today was no exception. I was reminded once again of the importance, especially in times of turmoil, of focussing on the constants, on eternal truths that never change.

God is good.

Praise the Lord because He is good. Sing praises to our God. It is good and pleasant to praise Him.

Psalm 147:1, ERV

God is faithful- He always keeps His promises, and is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! His faithful love endures forever.

1 Chronicles 16:34, NLT

Nothing can change His love for us. He looks at us and loves us- no matter who we are, how we behave, what the colour of our skin may be, or what language we speak- and nothing we do can make Him love us any more, or less.

Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”) No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels or demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow- not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below- indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:35-39, NLT

So rather than focus on the shaking ground, the shifting sand, I am going to make a conscious decision to try and keep my gaze fixed on Jesus, who never changes and will never let me down or let me sink.

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Mar 22

Mother’s Day Reflections: Reality vs Perfection

by Emma Tanner
shallow focus photo of pink ceramic roses

Today is Mothering Sunday. A day when we think about our mothers, and mother figures, for better or for worse. A day when we are often presented with the image or idea of a perfect mum, and then feel inadequate or short-changed when our reality does not match up to that. I think that this year, more than ever, we need to let go of that perfect ideal and accept that there’s no such thing as a perfect mum- or a perfect person for that matter- and that that’s OK.

Everything is new at the moment, and we are all making it up as we go along. We will make mistakes, we will get it wrong- and that’s OK.

Despite our good intentions of a structured school day at home, lots of wholesome activities, catching up on projects we’ve been meaning to do for ages, working from home, the reality is that we can’t do everything- and that’s OK.

There are still lots of things we can do. We can prioritise relationships over everything else. The way we invest in these relationships may look different at the moment- video calls and group chats and messages rather than visiting or going out together- but it is so important that whilst we are physically apart, we still journey together.

We can make an extra effort to show kindness and patience to those around us, both in person and online, whether they are our loved ones or those we’ve never met. Our kids are going to need our love and reassurance much more than lessons and activities at the moment.

In this time of uncertainty, when everything is changing, I take comfort from the fact that God is the same yesterday, today and forever. He is good, and He loves us. We sing a song at church that contains these lines:

“He’s not moved by perfection

Or how well we look the part

But He’s wild about the hidden stuff,

Like He’s wild about the heart…..”

from ‘Ready or Not’ by Hillsong United

I love that. God has never expected us to be perfect, to have it all together, but He wants us to be honest with Him, admit when we’re struggling, and ask Him for help. He sees the real us- and loves us anyway.

So today, on this Mothering Sunday, let’s all hold tight to the thought that in God we have a perfect parent who loves us unconditionally, just as we are. And let’s try and love each other in the way He has asked us to, so that we can make this situation a little bit more bearable for us all.

Originally broadcast as a Thought for the Day on BBC Radio Kent Sunday Breakfast 22nd March 2020

Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com

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Feb 26

Learning to Let Go

by Emma Tanner

Let-it-go

Life has a habit of shifting the goal posts. Just when we think we’ve got stuff licked into shape, got into a good routine, got things under control, then everything changes again, for better or worse. These may be major life changes- a new birth, or a bereavement; changes in our health status; a new job or a redundancy; relationships beginning or ending- or, more insidiously (and inevitably) smaller, incremental changes- changes in season. I find myself in changing seasons in a few areas at the moment, and I confess that this has unsettled me a little. God has been using these changes to work on a few control issues that I wasn’t aware I had (a work in progress!)

Firstly, at home. My girls are now both at secondary school. They get there and back under their own steam. They both have friends I’ve never met. They don’t need me to do so much of the practical stuff for them anymore. Our relationship is evolving, but this isn’t a bad thing; I love sitting with them and putting the world to rights, having conversations that can range from politics to theology to ridiculous internet memes in the space of a few minutes. They are great company. I love seeing their personalities develop, watching them make decisions, helping them learn from their mistakes, laughing with them, crying with them. But I can’t control them any more (if indeed I ever could!) My elder daughter is 14 and I have to trust that as she takes the first steps towards independence, that she would make good choices. I can’t make them for her any more.

We run Care for the Family Parentalk courses at the Princess Project, and one quote from the course (from speaker and author Katharine Hill) really stuck with me:

In navigating the road to independence one of the most helpful pieces of advice I received was to ‘keep the children on elastic, not string’. If we hold them tight on a short bit of string it will pull taut and eventually snap. If, however, we keep them on elastic from the beginning we can gradually let it stretch, giving them more responsibility and more freedom appropriate to their age. This makes the journey to independence easier both for them and for us.

I need to learn to let go.

Secondly, at work. The Princess Project seems to be in a constant state of change, as God grows it and prunes it and takes it in all sorts of different directions. These are good, healthy, God-ordained changes, but they are changes none the less. Our team has grown (again!) Mary joined us at the beginning of the year, to help Beth run our Maidstone services, with the idea being that it would free me up to concentrate on our Mum2Mum replication work, and the governance-type stuff that by necessity always takes a back seat to real people with real and urgent problems that need addressing.

I knew it was the right thing do to, so when people asked if I was OK with being less hands-on and front-line I glibly said of course, totally fine. The reality was, as ever, slightly messier. I have experienced a range of emotions. I don’t know everyone anymore. There are mums and their kids who have visited one of our Hubs who I’ve never met. This is a very weird feeling. Beth and Mary started a Parentalk group on Monday morning, the first one that I haven’t been at, which was by all accounts a great success. I turned up late to the Gillingham Hub having been stuck in traffic, and arrived to a happy hubbub of noise and activity, all running perfectly fine without me being there.

I am simultaneously so proud of our amazing team that have risen to the challenge and are seamlessly stepping into leadership, excited at being able to work on the ‘big picture’ stuff, ready for a new challenge- and fighting the urge to check up on everyone and everything, interfere, and micromanage. The Princess Project is my baby- but, like my girls, it’s growing up- and I need to let it.

Holding on for too long- to our kids, to particular tasks or roles, to the way things have always been done, to the status quo- holds others back, as well as ourselves.

This need for control is hard-wired into us humans. We like to think we know best. One of the most counter-cultural teachings of Christianity is that we only truly find freedom  when we surrender our lives to our Creator; when we acknowledge that He knows best, not us; when we can truly and honestly pray, as Jesus did in Gethsemane, “I want your will to be done, not mine.” In relinquishing control of our lives to God, we are admitting that He knows what we need better than we do- and most of us find that pretty hard. The good news is that when we do let go and let God take over, we are free to step into all He has prepared for us, into His perfect purpose for each of our lives.

So I am going to make a conscious effort, every day, to try to do a bit more letting go. To give my children space to grow and thrive and fly; to give my wonderful team the freedom to take the Princess Project forwards; to let God take control. I feel lighter already.

Let Go- Hillsong Young and Free

 

 

 

 

Parenting Princess Project The Journey

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Sep 2

Seasons

by Emma Tanner

Mote Park through the seasons

I think September is my favourite month. I love the weather…. if you’re lucky, still warm and sunny, but with a morning chill and a gentle warmth to the light; memories of summer still fresh but the promise of orange-hued autumn days and cosy winter evenings just around the corner. It is a time of new beginnings. I became a wife in September, became a mother in September, started school and university and work in September. It is always a poignant time of year for me.

This year is no exception. It feels like the beginning of a new season in a number of ways. My beautiful youngest child (the happy, gurgling, contented little baby- no wait, that was 11 WHOLE YEARS AGO) left home this morning to walk to secondary school with her big sister. She went with a smile and a spring in her step and didn’t look back. I did most of my blubbing last term when we left our wonderful primary school after 9 happy years so it was more just a small amount of gentle eye-leakage this morning. Such a mixture of emotions- intense pride, excitement that she is stepping forward into new opportunities and adventures and into all God has planned for her, tinged with a slight sense of loss as our family life moves into a different phase. Fortunately this little one (even though she is pretty much as tall as me already) is still a cuddly, home-loving bundle who has told us in no uncertain terms that she never wants to leave home (I’ll remind her of that in a few years’ time.)

We are stepping into a new season at the Princess Project, too. God has opened some big doors for us and we are starting two years of mentoring with a view to taking our little local project all across the country. Our team is going to be growing again, my work will start to be more strategic and big-picture stuff and a bit less of the hands-on service delivery. I am going to have to hone the art of delegation as I entrust more of the local work into the capable hands of our Maidstone and Medway team. Changes, changes.

After I had watched my munchkins disappear into the distance this morning, I decided that rather than sit around weeping into my coffee I would stick my trainers on and do what I usually try and do at any time of emotional fragility: prayer walk my way around Mote Park with my worship music playlist on. As I walked out into the glorious sunshine, into the familiar beauty of the park, I could feel my head lift and my spirit soar. As a confirmed introvert I find the summer holidays a bit challenging- I absolutely love having my girls around for 6 whole weeks, but at the same time that means I am in the company of other people for 6 WHOLE WEEKS. Just being on my own outside in the presence of God with just the butterflies for company was so restorative.

There is something immensely comforting about the familiar. I know Mote Park so well. I am so thankful that we have this gem of a place within walking distance of our house. Graham and I went for our first dog walk here, he dragged me round it when I was in labour with Sophie, the girls have learnt to ride their bikes there, fed the ducks, had picnics, picked up conkers, picked blackberries. Back in the day we took young people from Trinity Foyer there for BBQs, trying to avoid being locked in on light summers’ evenings- this year we watched Sophie do the same with her own youth group. Everything changes, yet nothing changes.

We know that whatever the autumn holds, winter will inexorably follow. Whatever season we are in at the moment- one where everything is ticking along uneventfully, or one where everything is in a state of upheaval; one we are enjoying or one we cannot wait to come to an end- it will come to an end. We don’t know what’s around the corner but we can be certain that in all the different seasons of life, God never changes. Every season He brings us through reiterates His faithfulness to us. Our circumstances, the faces around us, our physical environments may alter, but God doesn’t. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And as everything around us changes, there is great comfort in that.

“Jesus the Anointed One, is always the same – yesterday, today, and forever.”

Hebrews 13:8, TPT

 

Princess Project The Family The Journey

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Aug 1

Ready or not

by Emma Tanner

ready or not

Miracles come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are big, obvious, must-give-God-the-glory kind of miracles, like healings and resurrections. Many of them are less obvious, more mundane, but no less significant. Indeed, so commonplace are these little miracles  that there is a real danger that we start to take them for granted; that we can forget how totally amazing they are, or- even worse- forget to give God the glory that is rightfully His. But let me back up a bit.

For some time now, the Princess Project trustees have been thinking about how we might be able to replicate some or all of our work more widely. I have always had a sense that the Princess Project was going to grow beyond what I could envisage or understand (let alone be comfortable with) and this is something that other trusted voices have shared with me, too. But how? Where should we start? What was the next step? Where did God want us to go?

Just before our March trustee meeting I saw a post on Facebook saying that the Cinnamon Network was inviting ambitious church-based projects that want to replicate their work across the country to enter the Project Lab 2019 competition. The winners would receive both funding and, more importantly from our point of view, a place on the Cinnamon Project Incubator where they would be able to get support from industry leaders to develop their project so it can be replicated through other churches. The more I looked at the application form, the more excited I became. It seemed to me that we ticked all the boxes. It seemed to be exactly the opportunity we had been praying for and waiting for. I raised it at the meeting and said I thought we should enter Mum2Mum, our befriending service for young mums.

“Go for it!” said the trustees, in typically encouraging fashion.

So I did.

This involved submitting both a written application and a video in a pretty tight time frame, made even more hairy by my penchant for leaving things until the very last minute (my deadline-driven personality is a slight bone of contention between my Creator and myself). The deadline was the day after the Easter weekend- so of course, this is how I spent the majority of Easter Saturday and Monday, roping in the girls to help with the video.

(“No mummy, you look a bit deranged, try it again.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing with your hands but it looks weird.”

“Is that bit supposed to be funny?”)

Eventually we came up with something that met with the approval of a 10 year old and a 13 year old and by that point I was hoping that the Cinnamon judges would be somewhat easier to please.

From that point on everything happened rather quickly. I received an email to say we had been shortlisted, and then a few weeks later another to say we had made it through to the final and inviting us, along with 6 other finalists and reserve finalists, to a presentation masterclass up in London to prepare us for it.

Beth (my right hand at Princess Project but also a good friend and all round wonderful person) and I felt quite excited and grown up going up to town on the train looking smart with all the commuters in the rush hour. We arrived in a grey, rainy London and once I had handed over control of Google maps to Beth, who unlike me could at least manage to work out which direction we were facing, navigated our way to Mercer’s Hall.

And then it all started to get very real.

Those who know me well know that I am a confirmed introvert. My own company, quiet, a book, a pen, Netflix, cats- fantastic. A room full of strangers- not so good. Having to go round the room and introduce yourself and your project- slightly uncomfortable. Writing a pitch from scratch and presenting elements of it to a room full of people- you what now?

I just about survived the first session and then they took us into the rather grand and imposing room where the final would be held (think a lot of wood panelling, high gilded ceilings, renaissance art, velvet chairs) and informed us that we would be standing on a small stage at the front of the room and presenting with just a hand-held microphone- no lectern, no stand, nowhere to hide- then taking questions from the judges afterwards, Dragon’s Den-style. I honestly thought I was going to throw up, or burst into tears (the latter would probably have been more manageable but I didn’t appear to have much control over my physiology at this point so to be honest anything was possible). Beth looked over and saw me on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Are you OK?” she whispered.

“No! I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” she said (always good with the tough love). “God’s brought us this far, He will see it through.”

And she was right. That’s where my little miracle comes in.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur. I held it together until I got home and then when my husband asked how it had gone, the emotion of the day came pouring out like a snotty tsunami and I sobbed on him until I felt a bit better. He gave me very similar advice to Beth, and although I knew deep down they were both right, it didn’t shake the worm of anxiety eating away inside. I thought about it all the time. I was waking in the night worrying about it. Although I told myself that no-one had ever died from talking for 12 minutes, that reality did not seem to be getting through to my overactive brain.

A few days later I was driving back from our Gillingham Hub and listening to a new worship album, Hillsong United’s ‘People’. A song came on, Ready or Not, that I had heard before but never really heard before. As I listened it seemed as though God was talking directly to me.

He’s already seen the ending
He’s already seen us through
He’s already breaking out in us
He’s already on the move

He’s already won our battles
He’s already paved the way
He’s already gone ahead of us
And He is ready when we are

Come now
For all we’ve seen
We ain’t seen nothing yet
Are you ready
Are you ready

Come now
Bring Him praise
For what He’s gonna do next
Are you ready
Are you ready or not
Come

I felt my anxiety about the whole Cinnamon thing lift and I knew with certainty that God had gone ahead of us, He had already equipped me for what He wanted me to do, and I had peace that His will would be done, whatever that may be. I didn’t know what lay ahead but my daddy God did. He has proven to me over and over and over again that He is faithful and trustworthy and as I surrendered all of this to Him I knew it was going to be alright. I had been trying to do what was impossible- to do this using my own limited resources. And that’s the whole point! God delights in calling us to do things that we could not possibly do in the natural, so that we don’t start thinking it’s all about us and what we can do, but instead are compelled to cling to Him and trust Him to do through us what we couldn’t do in our own strength. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:9

“The Lord answered me, “My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.” So I will celebrate my weaknesses, for when I’m weak I sense more deeply the mighty power of Christ living in me.”

I drove home worshipping my God with all my heart and soul and with tears rolling down my cheeks. I knew He was with me and that it was going to be OK.

And it was.

When the final came around, it was a gloriously hot and sunny day, and despite a warm-up session where we had to talk about something we loved (cats, obvs) and present our pitch to the other finalists in a deliberately over-the-top style (yup pretty much my worst nightmare), I was remarkably devoid of panic. Sweaty palms, yes, and a little shaky- but at peace knowing my God was right there with me and trusting that His will would be done. We weren’t one of the overall winners, but that was OK. I felt I’d given it my best shot and we knew that we were walking in God’s will for us and trusting that He knew better than us what was the right outcome. We secured over £4,000 of pledges from members of the audience on the evening, and a place on the Incubator, which was what we really wanted. Our aim is that eventually Mum2Mum will be able to be offered as a service by churches or groups of churches all across the UK.

We have just held another trustee meeting. When I look back at where we were in March, compared to where God has brought us to now- the answered prayer, the open doors, the new opportunities, the provision, the equipping- once again I am on my knees in wonder at the greatness and faithfulness of our God.

Come now
For all we’ve seen
We ain’t seen nothing yet
Are you ready
Are you ready…

 

 

 

 

Princess Project The Journey

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Sep 6

A Tale of Many Hats

by Emma Tanner

hats

Like most people, I wear many hats. I have a wife hat and a mum hat, a work hat and a friend hat, a daughter hat, a sister hat, and a neighbour hat. I have a hat that I wear when I’m standing up for something I passionately believe in. And don’t even get me started on the mad cat lady hat.

Sometimes it is clear what hat I am meant to be wearing, and when. Sometimes it isn’t. Quite a lot of the time I try and wear several hats at once, which can get a little uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels like I’m playing a never-ending adult version of the chocolate game we used to play at parties when we were kids, desperately trying to remove a hat or put one on as quickly as possible, depending on how the dice rolls. There are times- school summer holidays being a notable example- where it becomes seemingly impossible to juggle my hat-wearing successfully and I end up either wearing all of them or getting so overwhelmed that I fling them on the floor and feel unable to wear any of them.

I am learning that not all hats are created equal. Some hats are one-size-fits-all. Anyone can wear them. I may possessively hang onto them, but the reality is that someone else might be able to wear them with more panache. In fact, it might be the only hat they are wearing, rather than an extra layer perched on the top of several others. A work role or task. Baking homemade goodies for the school fair. Feeling like you have to say yes to any and every request for help. Campaigning about every issue. Those types of hats will be different for everyone…. but we probably all know what ours look like.

At the same time, there are those hats which are hand-made for us, molded to our heads. The ones that no-one else can wear. The wife, mum, family hats. These are the ones that we wear under all the others, that we never take off. But sometimes, with all the others stacked on top, we can forget we’re wearing them; forget how important they are. Sometimes we need to unashamedly strip off all the others and let everyone know that these are the only hats we are wearing today.

I find my hat-juggling becomes more difficult if I forget that I am not defined by what hat I am wearing (even by the really good ones). If I forget that my identity is found in being a child of God, a daughter of the King, someone who Jesus loved enough to die for. If I forget that I have been forgiven, restored, renewed and equipped to live the life I was created for.

When my relationship with my creator and saviour is my focus, somehow the juggling seems more doable.

As we walk into a new season (September always feels like a time of new beginnings) I am going to try and remember what’s most important, and prioritise wearing the hats that only I can wear. I might even send a few hats off to the charity shop. Not the cat one though. That one’s staying for good.

Who You Say I Am- Hillsong Worship

 

The Family The Journey

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