The Long Walk Home

“Blogs then can indeed be wonderful expressions of who we are – an opportunity to communicate, to express oneself, to test ideas, and connect to those people who might be listening and might want to begin a conversation. Although such blogs are unlikely to attract huge traffic, that is not necessarily the point. Not everything is about celebrity and sales and causes celebres – bloggers create their own communities and sometimes it’s joy enough and satisfaction indeed to find a kindred spirit.” (from some article about blogging on the LICC website. )

The first description of blogging that I’ve heard that sums up what I love about this medium and why I really love blogging, especially when I forget to write to impress, or create comments, or other such desires. This space is just a creative expression of parts of me, and that’s what makes me keep posting.

Djembe, I’ve been learning to play my djembe. Small dance. I haven’t learnt to play like this yet(click for genius playing)But it’s so much fun. Rhythm drowns out the noise in my brain and leaves me feeling a little bit freer. Hoorah for rhythm and the genius of knowing the maker of it all.

I was sitting with a lovely student today reading through Jonah 1 marveling at the God who made heavens and the sky and sea. We thought about what the fear of God really means, and we got a little bit gobsmacked by the fact that we know the maker of the heavens, the sea and the sky. Now that’s a point to smile about. We were also glad people like Jonah are in the Bible, God is used to sulky rebellious people who don’t want to do his will, and delights in pouring out grace and patience on us as he brings us back into His ways. He really is brilliant. Contented sigh.

“My God full of mercy
Heard our weeping
Came to bring us home again
My God takes the broken
And makes them whole

My God mocked and beaten
Crushed and bleeding
Yet crying Father forgive
My God became broken
To make me whole

My God on the third day
In the morning
Broke the shackles of the grave
My God takes the broken
And makes them whole

My God knows my failures
Speaks forgiveness
Gives me strength to try again
My God takes the broken
And makes me whole.”
(Stuart Townend)

Sigh. What a God we have.
Language has been doing my head in again, it’s all too easy to skim over the words, think I know what they mean and forget the brilliant concept, idea, person or truth that they are communicating to me.

An example: I asked a friend on Friday what cool thing about God he’d been reminded of recently. He replied quoting Galatians 3 that the Gospel is blessing for all nations. A good thing. But my brain does something irritating.

I read a sentence like that and shudder inwardly because I forget the reality it is describing and just read the words. The words float over my brain and all I hear is seemingly jargon. Just words devoid of the concept they were describing. It’s a problem with words becoming overfamilar and getting separated from the brilliant truth they were describing, so I stopped and thought about it for a moment.

Then it hit me, the Gospel being blessing for all nations means the reality of God coming to rescue his people is something that brings good things to the whole world. Get into that in more detail and suddenly you can see why my friend was excited. And I became excited.

Phew. But it’s a battle. And it’s one that is worth fighting, especially if you’ve been in this crazy Christian thing for a long time. It’s all too easy to lose the reality behind the words and get cynical at the overuse of jargon and phrases which are attached to the myriad of Christian subcultures. The problem is then that it’s all too easy to get cynical with God. I’m happy to be cynical at stupid subcultures. I hate it when that leads me to get cynical about the reality of the living and true God.

I’m not sure where this thought is going, other than I like it when I remember the reality behind the language and I like it when I enjoy God and can tell Him that without it sounding empty and hollow. I’m most scared when I just talk a good talk and nothing is going on inside. I guess this is just a plea for being real with God and each other, and using different language as much as possible to jolt each other back into the depths of what this life is all about.

My parents took this in Guernsey. Good eh.

So, today has been, lets say, an interesting day. It started off so well (name that tune) in a blue sky, sun shining, sit and talk to God in bed, sit on the back step and eat breakfast in the sunshine kind of day. I trundled up to Gatwick in my car, abandoned it in the car park with instructions to play nicely with the other cars and headed up to London on the train. (there was a good reason for the crazy mad parking in Gatwick but it’s too long to bore you with right now). London in the sunshine is pretty, the walk up to Covent Garden from waterloo full of panoramic views over the city and interesting back streets. An idyllic day, especially given the fine company I was heading towards, the aforementioned Sarah and Anna, my Relay buddies from back in the day, people who know me inside out and still love me.

We met, hugged and went off to Cafe Nero, upon which my day started taking a slightly annoying turn for the worse. I sat, I drank tea, I put my bag on the floor, I chatted, I looked down and was surprised to see not the bag but the floor. Ah. Yes, someone had nicked my bag. Large bloomers. In fact, if you have time, several large bloomers. So frustrating, and an event which left me feeling slightly stupid for not having hugged my bag close to my chest for the duration of our coffee time. Cards have been cancelled and a new shiny phone is on it’s way to me at somepoint next week, I haven’t lost all that much apart from a diary and lots of handy business cards in my wallet, a wallet which had about 50p in it. (poor criminal not much to steal there..) I’m still alive and well and, apart from a slight weird feeling of emptiness and a desire to look at a non existent phone, I’m OK.

There are several things to note from today.
1. If you ever are in a situation where your bag gets nicked, make sure you are with Anna and Sarah, I can’t think of two better people to be with in such circumstances. Anna whirled into efficient ‘journalist talking to police’ mode and provided many good hugs, Sarah was on hand with her mobile and card canceling details. They both came to the police station with me and were generally lovely.

2. Sarah deserves a special mention for her ridiculous generosity and grace (which reminded me LOTS of Gods ridiculous grace and generosity). She took me out shopping, bought me a new bag, notebook, replacement novel and wallet. She put money in my pocket and took me back to hers, she then drove me to my parents house in Guildford (in her uber nice Honda S2000) and found time to encourage me, know me well and make me feel loved. Wow. My reaction to grace in everyday life is similar to how I react to God, reluctant at first but then increasingly gobsmacked and grateful for such good friends.

3. When you have no bag to carry, no money on you and no phone, you feel light and slightly like you’ve escaped from prison or a mental institute. I’ve realised how much my brain clicks in every few minutes telling me to look at my phone or bag, without them actually being there it got a bit confused.

4. My parents are also lovely. I got to hug my Mum lots and then Dad drove me home to get car keys and then up to Gatwick to pick up my car, and then paid for me to get out of Gatwick. Again the feeling of being let out of prison. I had loads of quality chats with Dad in the car and am grateful for that time.

5. Despite having my bag nicked at the beginning of the day I’ve experienced a ridiculous amount of giving and generosity today leaving me with the suspicion that, somewhat perversely, I may have gained more than I’ve lost today.