No, this isn’t another post about the dark dismalness of life and the existential angst that usually goes with such murmuring. This is about my inability to say no to simple things. This weekend I drove for 14 hours, crossed London in busy traffic twice and went on a conference, all on my weekend off. The reason for such madness was our band being asked to lead worship at a Interserve (mission agency people) conference called Next Step. The facts that kept this weekend from being completely pointless are as follows.
Getting to spend time with Steph. Beating her at pool. Lots.
The completely over hysterical moment in the car as we drove up to a conference house (ON OUR DAYS OFF) allowing the full realization, of what we had said yes to, hit us.
The man who stopped me in the corridor this morning and asked: “Do you know where the tiny little children are?” (cue lots of images floating around in my head of uber small children scampering the carpet and being trod on under our feet)
Driving on Oxford Street. It is possible to drive through central London. Oh yes.
Listening to over-amounts of brilliant music. (Indigo Girls, The Smiths, Karine Polwart, Eddi Reader, Damien Rice, Rich Mullins, Kate Rusby)
I did get to play my bongos. Lots.
Other things learnt from this weekend: Satellite Navigation is a Good Thing. As stubborn a navigator as I am, there are limits to my ability to balance a map on my knees and drive at the same time. Wendy (Steph’s Sat Nav) was very understanding of my foolishness in driving and very good at putting me back on course. In fact, if you have time, there is a sermon illustration in that. I had to receive from Wendy, I had to put away my pride in my navigation skills and trust hers, there was nothing else I could do except receive from her. (Fill in the blanks as to how this might relate to us and God yourself).