The Long Walk Home

I’ve spent the day ploughing on through and have finally come up with this: Inspired by Nick Hornby and spurred on by Steffy and Witsy I’ve eventually managed to write my 31 songs. Enjoy.

31 Songs

I’m not at all sure of the etiquette of posting such things here, but James was great, I love his wife Sarah and I’m very sad that we have to do the rest of our lives without him. He however gets to large it up in heaven eating big steaks. (at least that’s my interpretation of Isaiah 25.) It was his funeral today and although we cried and gasped at the awful situation, we clung to the brilliant hope that one day we will see him again. No wishful thinking. But raised because Jesus has been raised.

Apologies to Sarah for the picture of her, it was the best I had of him, and it captures his cat-who-got-the-cream smile he smiled at her from time to time.

On one of our doors we have a hall of shame full of people who have abandoned us. People whom Fallowfield welcomed into the bosom of friendship only to be rejected and abandoned for London, Denmark, Asia and another part of London. Well sucks to them, we have a better idea. We want these people to live with us in our spare room.

Bill Bailey
Simon Amstell
Susan Kennedy
Cathy Haines
The whole cast of Hustle
Will Ferrell (Lizzi’s idea)
Sue Perkins (my idea, Lizzi is too small to remember her genius, she is a child)
A big Dog.

(Clearly our spare room might need to be converted into a tardis to fit them, or we should get a small shrinking device fitted for each one of them. Actually that would be genius, imagine, a little Susan Kennedy to take with you wherever, bliss.)

Life is too weird to post anything vaguely profound right now, instead have a go at this found at Steffy B’s site.

“What ever happened to lazy, egocentric blog posts? It’s about time I brought them back into fashion, and thought I’d steal a bit of Me Time too.”

Your Name:
My name:
Summarize me in three words:
Where did we meet:
Take a stab at my middle name:
How long have you known me:
When is the last time that we saw each other:
Do I drink?:
Do I smoke:
Am I happy:
Am I a good person:
What was your first impression of upon meeting me/seeing me:
What’s one of my favorite things to do:
Am I funny:
How do you make me smile:
What’s my favorite type of music:
Have you ever seen me cry:
Can I sing?:
What is the best feature about me:
Am I shy or outgoing:
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
Do I have any special talents:
Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else (what):
I’m hot? Am I not? Go ahead, you can say … :
Have you ever hugged me:
Kissed me?:
What is my favorite food:
Have you ever had a crush on me:
Am I dating anyone:
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
What’s your favorite memory of me:
Who do I like right now:
What is my worst habit:
If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what is the one thing I would bring?
Are we friends:
Do you want us to be more than friends?
Do I believe in God?
Am I family oriented?
Who is my best friend? Will you repost this so I can do it?

Copy it, paste it in a comment, make me smile.

The reality of the invisible sometimes seems like the most slippery thing to hang onto in this life. The reality that there is more out there than I can imagine, that the invisible affects the visible, that there is a God who knows what He is doing sometimes seems so hard to grasp. There are moments this week when I have caught a glimpse of that invisible, the annoying thing is that the peek behind the curtain seems to only increase my frustration at not being able to grasp it more fully. Tonight I have to talk about who Jesus is. I want to give it my all, to speak of the wonders of Jesus, the reality of the Word become flesh, the beauty of his humanity, the wonder of his death and ressurection. But everytime I go through the talk I think that it’s all bonkers.

The good thing is that we’re told to expect this. Foolishness is the hallmark of the message, something that seems bonkers, inadequate and stupid if there is no invisible. On my good days I love that. I love that God gets to be the clever one, displaying his message through weak stupid stuff, so that all get to see how brilliant He is. On my bad days I’m frustrated that it isn’t written in neon letters in the sky for all to see. We are told the night is coming to an end and that the day is coming. Living in the light of that day goes against all my instincts, but also points to the fullfillment of all my body cries out for. Living in the light of that day I shall do my talk tonight and trust that the Maker of this world will be at work opening eyes to see Him. Really all I want to do is put John’s account of Jesus life into their hands and make them read about the most amazing man who ever lived.

Looking out of my window I can see that the trees are moving in the wind. Maybe the invisible really does affect the visible in this world…