The Long Walk Home

Yesterday son1 was ill. Tired and ill. He got progressively more and more grumpy as the day went on. At the end of the day he wailed to be allowed to watch I’m Blue dab oh Dee dab oh dye (don’t ask why he loves the late 90s dance tunes…). I let him play it through 3 times (because he’s three…) and then took the phone away. It was then that the end of the world happened (did you miss it, it was about 4.30pm yesterday). He raged and wept and raged again. All he wanted I wouldn’t give him and I held his poorly sad exhausted body as he wriggled, kicked and screamed.

It’s in these times that I most sense the parent heart of God. I see my messy screaming son and I love him so so much. I am not going to give him what he wants, as I’m pretty sure it’s not good for him. He hates that I’m not, and yet I’m his safe place, so he kicks off where he knows love. In my arms.

I know I’m like this with God. I shout and scream. I run from him (but not too far) I kick, I cry and I lash out. What I sensed yesterday is that in all of that mess God remains, God loves me in the midst of the angst. He tenderly holds on. My demands don’t wear down his patience, my insistence on being in control or right aren’t a barrier to his unceasing love. And even though I hate that he doesn’t often give us what we want right now, I love that he still soothes us, wipes away our angry tears and holds us tight when we kick off.

My brother’s excellent blog post last night (you really should read it, it’s beautiful) reminded me of a couple of my favourite Rich Mullins songs. He had it right when he said ‘I know that I am only lashing out, at the one who loves me most.’ And when he cried, ‘Hold me Jesus, cos I’m shaking like a leaf, you have been my King of Glory, won’t you be my Prince of Peace.’ 

Yesterday we went to a service at a healing centre near my parents’ house. We left the boys in their very capable hands and took our weary aching bodies to a quiet sun filled chapel for a sit down and reminder of a God who works in wilderness times. A God who might feel distant but is at work redeeming, acting and producing good in our lives.

We prayed through morning prayer and I was reminded of how much I love the rhythm of liturgy, the calls and responses, the declaration of truths that are bigger than me and my world. I miss the depths of those truths and the joining with people through the ages in being refreshed by them again. It wasn’t a life changing experience but it was good to grasp stillness. It was good to listen and to hear my body crying for rest and hope.  

Going there also reminded us of the strange alienation of dropping into a close knit community. It’s a service that happens once a week and was clearly populated by regulars. There was laughter at things we didn’t understand and although we were made very welcome we still felt the oddness of being visitors. I think this was heightened as we were the youngest there by someway. 

I guess that stranger feeling happens anywhere you go when you drop into others community. Everything was clearly explained in a helpful manner but still we felt the tinge of being outsiders. I don’t think that was a bad thing, just an observation. It’s helpful to then be aware of how others might feel coming into our communities. The feeling of otherness is inevitable but it can be pushed through. It’s a lesson in persevering even though something might feel odd at first. 

There is something about the smell of that many books in one place. There is something about the long lines of story upon story waiting to be read. There is something about the many many reams of paper to get lost in. Oh to sit and open and inhale and lose all time.

I’ve always loved the refuge of the bookshop, the understanding of the shop staff as I’ve spent hours sitting, reading, looking and sometimes just stroking the books. Waterstones is even more of a treat in its new incarnation. It’s independent vibe, free from the large group that held it, makes it delightful to hang out in. The children’s sections are superb and every nook and cranny holds a coffee table to sit in and read to your leisure. 

Today we bought our half term books. Today I wistfully looked around awaiting the days I can linger once more. Today the boys squealed in delight at books, books and more books. Long may that continue. 

Sunday. Started too early. Tired bleary eyes, fighting boys, through gritted teeth we get to church. Coffee works its way down into our toes. Others take the boys away and we sit at the back and write notes to each other like teenagers.

Friends have us round for lunch. The best kind of friends who love us in the normal ordinary ways of life. Friends who cook sausages and play with the boys whilst we afternoon sleepy dose. Friends who are really family. Our safe place. So grateful for their care. 

Making it through dinner, bedtime tears, tired gazing through the haze at each other. Hands touching in passing as we help our boys find sleep. Fish fingers in the oven for sandwich joy. Sunday. 

Tonight I think I’m going to get a little ranty. I have this brother you see, a brother who loves God like I don’t know how, a brother with an amazing wife and children who live out what they believe, who seek to practise what they preach, who actually act on the commands to love and do justice and care for this world. Together they are an awesome team. A team who love hospitality, who love walking alongside the ordinary and pointing them to God, who have a vision to restore and repair and care for those battered in ministry.

My brother is a man who doesn’t come with a flashy package, he isn’t a bouncy extrovert bursting into your world with style. He’s an introvert who can be shy and a slow burner. He is however bursting full of the word, of wisdom, of not wanting to leave theology at an academic level but believing Gods word can transform and be understood by all. He’s a man who can understand and distill and encourage and remind us all to keep going because there is hope in this world. He’s got a PhD in theology but knows how to communicate the big stuff to those of us who don’t know the finer points of Greek and Hebrew. 

I’m ranting because I have no idea why churches aren’t falling over themselves in wanting to encourage, support and use these immense faithful servants of God. They aren’t perfect (who the heck is) but they would be of such benefit anywhere they go. My brother needs a job. He would be awesome on a staff team, encouraging all to walk with God and being someone who could really help all see and delight in God’s word – and oh do we need people like him in the church. As a team he and his wife would bring so much love, calling attention to reality and hospitality to any situation. She has awesome gifts in mentoring, in spiritual direction, in walking with people through this life. 

Are there any church leaders out there with creativity and eyes to see the value of these wonderful people and employ them somehow? I fail to see why anyone wouldn’t. I am angry that no one isn’t, that no one has the vision to invest in and use them. 

Rant over.