Jan Collard RIP

I went to a funeral today. Or rather I stood outside the church, with many others, while the service was conducted because there was no room inside. 

It was for a woman I barely knew. Her name was Jan Collard and I'd only got to know her slightly over the last few years through Zac's and the work we were both doing to help pregnant women and families in need but she made enough of an impact on me for me to want to go along to show respect for who she was.

For many years she worked with homeless agencies and while most people do their work and go home Jan took her work home with her - literally. Her car boot and the car itself were often filled with goods she'd collected for this family or that individual.

Her death is a loss not only to the very many people she helped in one way or another but to the whole city of Swansea. We mourn the loss of a heart so big it couldn't be restrained by regulations, negativity or a can't-do attitude. Her practical love encompassed every race and faith and, at this time when much racist and bigoted abuse is being bandied about, the way she lived her life shows us an alternative way of thinking and acting.

Her death won't make the front page of the local newspaper but that doesn't mean that the gap she leaves behind won't be significant.

I pray her husband and family, friends and community, will find comfort in the knowledge that she was loved and will be missed by many.

A very Big Issue

This is an abridged extract from an article in the Big Issue (March 31 2008), written by a vendor.

'I had entered one of my bleakest periods ever. A street worker suggested counselling and handed me a leaflet. 'In crisis, in despair? Call Crossways.''

After the man had arranged an appointment he discovered that it was a religious organisation. This didn't worry him; he was just desperate for some help.

'I was ushered into a classroom-sized room where in the corner, by the window, were two chairs facing each other.'

A woman was sitting in one. She invited him to sit in the other and then sat smiling at him for a minute before asking what his problem was.

'When I'd finished, she gave me a treacly smile and said, "Trust me, the only solution to your problem is to accept God into your life." ... she entered what I can only describe as a sermonic trance. She just prayer and prayed, and then prayed.' I'm sure for her, flinging myself off the nearest bridge was not the problem. The problem was that I met Jesus before I jumped.'

He left the room while the woman, oblivious, continued to pray.

How angry does this make me? Very. Angry and sad.

When Jesus met people in need the first thing he did was meet the need, by feeding or healing or whatever was necessary. He demonstrated God's love in the most practical way - before anything else.

I'm writing to the Big Issue. I want to say sorry to the vendor; I want to invite him to Zac's; I want him to experience a better side of church and Christianity. But it's probably too late.

Sunday round-up

Husband grumbled about the photo I posted on the previous post. He felt I should have used the one that shows his legs. 'People said I had lovely legs.' And he does.

Harvey can't understand why we've rushed indoors. I'm sure there must be something about the rain not falling on the innocent.

I've written to the local paper! I often threaten to but rarely does the enthusiasm endure. But this time I've actually done it.

There was a report in Friday's paper about a big effort by police to get drug dealers off the streets. Since March dozens of suspects have been arrested. It mentioned that three of them have now been imprisoned; the report also saw fit to say that the three were all Big issue sellers.

Too many people already have the wrong impression of Big Issue sellers: they see them as no-good beggars. In fact, the majority are trying hard to find a way off the streets. Selling the Big Issue magazine - which they have buy before they can sell it - is, for many, the first step to getting into employment and the community. It's work, not begging and part of the ethos of the Big Issue is to raise self-esteem in people who have a very low opinion of themselves by giving them something worthwhile to do, that earns them some money. Most of them are not drug dealers. To mention this in the report simply reinforces the stereotype that exists.

Off my soapbox.

Yesterday, after the gardening, we took a drive out to the marina. There must be a lot of rich people around. It's not just the price of the boat initially - £500,000 for the ones I really like - it's the cost of mooring it and technical terms that husband explained to me, but I wasn't really listening, preferring instead to imagine myself lounging on the deck of a boat, somewhere round the Caribbean, or shall we go to the Indian Ocean this month?

Rich people but we're not among them. Lots of flashy and not-so-flashy boats in the Marina. The national industrial museum is built on the edge of the marina and several of the exhibits are floating in it. As well as a lightship and something else - I think it was something to do with canning - there's a tug called Thomas. Thomas is a Normandy D-Day veteran and was the first diesel tug owned by the Admiralty.

It was interesting to see the old and the new juxtaposed.