Now, I realise I haven’t written a blog in a VERY long time. And it’s not because I didn’t have anything to say or anything worth sharing; in fact it’s the opposite. I’ve had so much to say and share but I didn’t have a single clue about where to start. Drafts upon drafts upon drafts would begin their lives on a new document on Word but the red button with the little white cross drew me in, enticing me to shut it down. To delete it all.

Until now.

This blog comes to you from the bed in the spare room in the house of a family from church. That’s a mouthful. When I became “homeless” between tenancy agreements last year, they took me in and for two weeks I became “part of the family”. Please indulge me and imagine that sung in a strong cockney accent by the Artful Dodger. And twelve months later, here I am again. The only difference is, my degree is over and I didn’t have much place to go.

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Well, let me rephrase that. I had places to go (i.e. my lovely godparents) but with my tenancy ending just before the St Mikes summer mission… there wasn’t much point me leaving Aberystwyth. And, I mean, why would I want to leave Aber when it’s full of my friends and church family? This small seaside town, on the edge of Wales has become my home in the past three years.

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I came to uni having not fitted in anywhere I had lived before. I was a “Christian”, I was theatrical, I was depressed… I was in care. I was all these things and the people I lived with and the people I saw every day and the people I was friends with didn’t get it.

But, then I came to university.

And all of a sudden these things didn’t matter so much. It didn’t matter where you were from. It didn’t matter what your parents did. It didn’t matter that I never left Aber for more than 3 weeks in my entire time here… I began to fit in.

For the first time, I began to fit in.

I found a church and a family I never thought I’d have. I found people who were as awkward as me. I found friends in the places I never thought possible.

And all because I came to middle of nowhere in Wales.

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Now that I’ve come to the end of my degree and that I’ll be graduating in July, that single most annoying question gets asked. Well, it comes in a number of forms:

 

What happens next?

 

                What you doing after you graduate?

 

                                How are you going to use your degree?

 

                                                                Have you got a job yet?

 

And my answer?

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Much to my despair, I am having to return “home”. There is a reason I ran away to the far side of West Wales where nobody ever visits. I didn’t intend on returning anytime, though God seems to have a different plan and back to England I go. Truth be told, yes I will be closer to my sisters and yes, my godparents will be nearby but… Aberystwyth! It draws me in with the claws of its seaside air and its dancing sunsets and the attacking seagulls. Well, maybe not that last one.

Don’t worry Aber, I’ll be back!

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In all honesty, I don’t entirely know what I want to do. I know I want to do a form of drama ministry. But not performing before you all jump on the bandwagon and go “Louise have you heard of Riding Lights?” “Oh hey, Saltmine are cool”. Yeah, these theatre companies are great but all they do is perform. And maybe do a couple workshops. My drama ministry is quite specific.

I want to teach churches how they can use drama. How they can read Scripture with more meaning and make it more engaging. Teach churches how they can use skits and sketches in their sermons. That’s what I want to do, not perform to a church congregation who will soon forget what they saw. But what I want to do: doesn’t exist. I need to create that job, and that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Which is why I need to start off by working for a church where I can then slowly but surely introduce drama.

Well, that’s the plan.

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I had to get a Hamilton gif in there somewhere. I’m surprised it took me this long to be honest.

So, as I wrap up my first blog after a six months hiatus I’ve not really said anything of note. Nothing that will inspire you, or make you question life or society. Nothing that might resonate with you. And sometimes, that’s okay. I try too hard with trying to create things other people want to see; I don’t focus on the things I want to create.

I should do that more often.

 

 

 

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