Power of prayer

As a Christian I try to incorporate my faith into every aspect of my life. I believe that God takes the priority over everything and that if he isn't a part of something in my life then that doesn't reflect that. However, the internet, especially facebook, has always been

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an issue. However, I have found ways involving my faith and the web, and I've blogged about some of them. A big part of my very short list on websites that save the world and preoccupation with justice was to do with my faith.

Another thing I have done is request prayers via facebook. I've done it before, but on Monday I asked about 20 people to send me 3 prayer requests. The response has been encouraging, and this evening I had a list of about 25 things to pray for ('surely it should be a multiple of 3?' you ask. I had other things to pray for too). So that's really good. It's always good when you know that there are people out there praying for you, and it's good to return the favour. Also, whilst some people replied privately, others replied to the thread prompting the people on the list to pray for the others too. This meant that my friends in Germany are now praying for people they've never met in Aberystwyth, for instance. I think that's so cool.

I've got ideas for what I'm going to get people to pray for next week, and I really pray that it encourages others. So, on that note, if you want prayer, don't hesitate to ask.

New starts

I have left Aberystwyth for good now. This is sad, and scary, and mostly sad. My last week was a joyous one, where I graduated, when on the steam train to Devil's Bridge, barn danced, and solved the case of the curious cadaver (more about that in another post, methinks). It was such a nice-and somewhat bizarre ending-to three years. This will possibly be the last post I write about Aberystwyth. I'm sure I've said that before.

This week I've started a new job. Slightly daunting and sort of slightly frustrating. I am now a part-time youth worker for a Church. However, seeing as its the school holidays, I probably wont get to see the youth very much. At least it will give me time to prepare. I'm also learning all the admin side of things, like the database (using this web-based software 'Fellowship One') and stuff. I just want to get on and do things with the youth. But, patience is a virtue, as they say.

I've been sorting out my stuff, that has arrived from Aberystwyth. Well, when I say 'sorting' I mean looking at it, despairing and then distracting myself by doing something else. I'm off to look, despair and distract.

Aberystwyth, again

Next week I'm graduating, so am returning to the sunny, hot, tropical climes of Aberystwyth. I'm actually nervous. It's weird, because I've never felt nervous about returning to Aberystwyth before. I'm just plagued by visions of having a mortar board two inches too big and a gown a foot too short, or vice versa (?). Someone told me about someone fainting at the top of the stairs, and subsequently falling down them.

So, what is new with me? Not much. I'm sort of in a strange limbo job wise. There is a possible job as a Youth Worker (part-time) in a job in Southampton. I just need to sign the contract, really. So, there we go.

On another note (well, actually, these are all very much related. Except, only I know the link between all these seemingly random nuggets of information)... So, where was I? Ah, yes, on another but linked note, I did an online personality tet. For the most part it was accurate. They highlight some key words to describe the person in question, and I appreciated being called 'pleasant, generous, diplomatic, courteous', but not so much 'emotional, self-promoting, unsure, dependent, conservative'. However, unfortunately. some aspects of it are true. Apparently, I set high-standards for myself, but often judge others by these. Also, it tell me 'in your desire to be viewed as an expert, you may frequently offer knowledge on different topics. This may give the impression that you know a little bit about everything'. That isn't true. A LOT about everything.

Communitas

I have sort of just initiated myself into the blogging community. I have just commented on someone's blog, and that person is not someone I know. I'm scared. It's not something I do. I never do that. I'm a blogger, but never a part of a blogging community. I stick to who I know, and observe from the outside. I'm a peripheral blogger. I read other people's blog, but I don't tell them. So, I'm a hypocrite too. If people just stumble across my blog, or something of the like, I want to know. However, if I do the same thing, I don't tell them. I think they have no interest in who I am or what I think.

So, if you've read this post then...comment. Just say 'hi'. Tell me if you know me, tell me if you don't. I just assume that 3 or 4 people read my blog, but it could be more. So if it is TELL ME! PLEASE! Okay.

And don't worry if you think 'He doesn't care' or whatever. I'm the same. So we are united through the sharing of a liminal experience. We're in communitas. If you didn't get this last paragraph, nor did I. Another thing we have in common.

Childhood Memory Meme

I was explaining to a complete stranger about my bizarre phobia. I have a phobia of people touching my wrists, backs of my hands and tops of my feet, but mainly wrists. I explained that the phobia probably arose when I was little and I had pneumonia. Telling him about it brought back loads of slide-show like memories of that episode of my life, and I'm going to tell them to you. I'm also inviting you to tell your own childhood memories.

When I was about five I crawled into my mum and dad's bed because I didn't feel well. I remember feeling these stabbing pains in my chest, arms and legs. I told my parents this and I was taken down to the living room. After a while a tall man in a dark coat arrived, took out his stethoscope and soon I found myself in hospital. I had an x-ray and I remember the room quite vividly. I think I had to stand against the wall to have it done and then, in what seems like the space of one slide passing to another, I was in a nurse's office. The nurse asked for my left-hand and took it behind my back. At this age I had a limited knowledge of amputations, possibly after reading about it in my Children's Encyclopedia or watching a TV programme about it. Having my hand removed from where I could see it led me to the only possible conclusion, it was being amputated. However, seconds later, the nurse said 'all done', and my hand was returned to me, just with something sticking into it.

Sleeping in hospital is a strange experience. There was the sounds of the nurses going up and down, children snoring, one crying, but there was the comforting sound of my mum's familiar heavy breathing. Within a few days I was fine and playing with all the other kids along the ward. I remember a motorised toy car that you could sit on, but I think that is just my mind playing tricks on me. My hospital stay was pretty much a happy one. Except for the injections. The needles were stuck into that thing the nurse had painlessly put into my hand. I hated them, I kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked. The nurses tried to placate me, my mum tried to placate me, but I still struggled. They always won though.

My last memory of the ward was an empty room with beds, a wet floor sign and a lady with a mop. The next slide is that of being home in bed and looking down at my hand. The cotton ball had fallen off and I could see a small hole that the ball was meant to be concealing. That is the first time I had that wave of nausea that I get when someone touches the back of my hands or my wrists.

Degree

This evening has left me with such an empty feeling. I feel gutted. On Wednesday we got our degree results. I got a 2.1. I was okay with a 2.1 but had really wanted a first. We were just told what result we got, with no mark, nothing.

So, being curious, I wanted to see how close to being a First I actually was. I searched my emails for the student handbook, which we got sent to us at the beginning of the year. Here we got details of how our results were worked out using the cascade calculator system. Basically, our higher marks have a higher weight in determining our grade. I opened Excel, wrote in all the numbers and did all the sums. The result was really gutting. I got 69.5. That's 0.5 marks off of being a First-class student.

I emailed my head of year to see whether there was a procedure for such instances. It sort of makes me suspicious of why they don't put the mark up, just so students don't pester them about borderline degree results.