The Long Walk Home

Read this. And as ever my brother might have hit the nail on the head. “No pointers – except one – forget the blogs, read the bible”.

“7Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 9This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son[b] into the world that we might live through him. 10This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for[c] our sins. 11Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 12No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.”

Off to see how this works out in practise. Head down, getting on with not trying to be right or prove some points but to figure out how to get on with loving the people I meet. Posturing, pondering and interesting thoughts will seem more attractive, always. What matters is living it out daily. Much harder and less kudos but the Jesus way.

Saturday morning is cleaning morning in our house, generally done to the tones of 60’s Soul music and aided by the cute cat who seems to be convinced that this is his house. In the spirit of cleaning it seems appropriate to dust down this fair blog and do some spring cleaning here. Convinced I’ve alienated even my most hard core readers by the lack of posting. I can breathe a sigh of relief and get back to writing random rubbish without the added pressure of thinking, who will think this is witty, clever, holy, wise and any other adjective you care to think of. (I think it’s an adjective that I’m after, I could be wrong…). The observant reader might notice the slight pointless nature of writing for an audience who might not exist and ask why I don’t go back to just writing thoughts on the computer for my own personal consumption. I’m still not sure of the answer but that’s the conundrum of blogging and so I’m going to ignore that glaringly obvious point and get back to enjoying this blogging thing again.

Sigh. Over explanations of blogging are the most boring blogging posts but as I’m in the mood for doing pointless things I’m going to leave my chunterings.

Anyway. I feel a need for a Dear Diary moment (more extensive details of our trip here) and inform anyone still listening that I *heart* NYC. Yes the Big Apple was visited, thanks to the lovely Sarah and the nice people who pay her lots of money to do her job. We had more fun than we deserved and I discovered that it is possible to find beauty in cities. I thought I really needed the mountains to discover beauty, but it turns out I just need a good view, some huge things that are bigger than little old me, some ascetically pleasing food shops and I’m sorted for my need to gaze in wonder.

In a slightly more geeky train of thought, I now utterly understand what the makers of SimCity were trying to get me to do all those years ago. They wanted me to make New York. I wanted to make London in a random swirly pattern and not have nasty big roads, they wanted me to make the proper grid system and make the city work. No room for creativity and self expression there. (ok so their style of city works much better but that is besides the point.)

I also enjoyed wandering in Greenwich Village, seeing the place where some of my favourite artists made wonderful music. I’ve always had an obesssion with American folk music (probably due to my parents slightly random record collection), from Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger to Bob Dylan, to Bruce Springsteen. I can’t really explain what it is that I love about this strand of music but I think it fuels the desire in me to head back in time to the 60s, grab a camper van and drive across America in a drug enhanced road trip. That’s what reading Steinbeck and Kerouac as a teenager will do for you. (yes I also drank coffee black for a time because it was cooler, there’s a beatnik poet lurking deep within me just waiting to get out.)

My final thought for this Saturday morning is that it has been sunny for a whole week now. Sunshine makes me want to get out of bed despite overtiredness from Jetlag. Sunny days give me the opportunity to do my job outdoors which makes Bible study more fun. This time of year my room is filled with little specks of sunshine from the mirror ball I have reflecting the light. This makes me smile. Sunny days also lead to sunny evenings and the joy of gazing at beautiful sunsets with pretty pink skies. It’s a beautiful world out there.

Update:
It is now officially spring/summer. Our Christmas Hedge was taken down today and placed in our ever growing surrealist garden. I think we’ve finally accepted Birgitte has gone and can move to the next process of the grieving stage. For the record our garden now contains a broken washing machine, a broken bicycle, a 70s swivel chair, a dying garden table, two dead Christmas trees, some poorly made concrete bird baths and the broken head of a pottery sheep. Surprisingly it still looks pretty, green and as if you’d want to spend time there.

The time of year when I head to Skegness is upon us. Once more I am interested to see what God will do on a beach in Skegness, and deeply glad to be getting away from my room and to the land of colleagues, fun and Butlins tack. Then in a random twist of fate and irony I’m heading to New York. The big apple. The city that never sleeps and other cliched lines. Something tells me it might have been a good idea not to leave the packing for the next two weeks until tonight. My current mantra is, remember your passport, remember your passport…

So, til a couple of weeks, go read a book, have some cups of tea and take a look at Isaiah 44, you never know it might do you some good.

The thing is, I’m not perfect. (try not to spit out your tea in shock) Now I don’t I really think I am or that anyone else thinks I am. But sometimes that’s the expectation isn’t it? We assure each other that we know we’re not perfect, we laugh about it, how ridiculous. But then we hurt each other, and the wheels come off. We know the other person isn’t perfect and yet we are hurting and we’re not too sure how to deal with all that.

The thing is, I’m a selfish sinner. I think of myself before others. I make things about me me me me me. And sometimes I say things like that to make you all think that I’m oh so honest and real about my sin. Deep down I still want it to be about me. The layers and layers of sin and muck go deep. I rebel against my creator, I hurt his creation, I am a wretch.

The thing is, so are you.

We have a problem. And it’s made worse by knowing that we were made for so much more than this. We were made to love, to put others first, to be unselfconscious about ourselves and deeply concerned about those around us. We were made to love the best in each other, not delight in the worst. We know things should be different and so we get surprised at the hurt, and the pain is deeper because we know, this should not be. We respond to the pain others inflict by withdrawal and we hide the hurt under the veneer of “I’m fine”. It’s crazy how much hurt gets hidden to fester under the surface this way. We were not made to live with the “I’m fine” veneer.

There is another way to be. A way that doesn’t deny the pain we inflict on each other, a way that doesn’t expect perfection but seeks to live in the mess, a way that is open, honest and real with each other. A way based on the open admission that you and I are wretches but that we are wretches upon whom love has been lavished, and who are called to lavish the same love on each other.

This is how we were made to live. “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.” We learn from the master, we learn from the greatest example and we love. We love because He teaches us how, and His love involves forgiveness, an expectation of sin and a deep welcome home when we turn back. This is a love that does not falter, a love that perseveres even in the face of hurt, pain, and wounds caused by others.

I’m not saying this is simple. It’s simply hard. But it is our call, it is the way we are to live, it smashes our pride on the floor, as we admit we have hurt others and accept grace, as we admit others have hurt us and give out grace. It’s our call as His body. It’s the only way to genuine community, it’s the only way to walk as Jesus did. The big surprise of our world right now is that I am not at the centre. Our lives are for others. Our lives are His.

One of the best definitions of humility I’ve heard is:

“Being able to rejoice when others are praised.”

Think about it, how well do we do that? I know I am rubbish at this. I am glad, at times, not to get all the praise/attention for something. But if someone else does, I definitely want a piece of it.

We need to rejoice in each other, big each other up and delight when others are recognised.

PS, you do realise I write this stuff for my own benefit…