Stress

Still hot chaps. According to the BBC, we are all going to die over the next 48 hours; unless you run a vest under the cold tap and sit with it on your head for a while. This is my tip for you not to die of heatstroke. Put frozen peas under your armpit. (Keep them in the bag). Although apparently, if you have got to the stage where you are doing this, your next call should be to an ambulance. And, I am sure that eleven hours in the back of an ambulance on a hospital car park is exactly what we all need now. Can we all just take a moment to remember with gratitude the two paramedics who were waiting with Aged Parent in an ambulance for several hours during her most recent visit to A and E? You have my undying admiration - if you haven't packed it in to go and do something less stressful - like end the war in Ukraine. We sat with her for maybe half an hour in a lovely garden in a care home on Saturday and by the time she had picked a fight with the fourth carer about various issues, I was ready to run amok. ALTHOUGH, to be fair, she was going on and on about one of her dresses going missing and we were a bit dismissive - "It'll turn up." etc. etc. until a lady went wafting past wearing it under a Hawian skirt. (They were having a Tropical Party). Sometimes, I need to listen to her more. Not often though.

To deal with his own stress levels, HOH has started swimming in the sea in the mornings. He hasn't a care for how this might be affecting MY stress levels. At his time of life, anything can happen. I have included the photo he sent me this week - after the event - to calm me down. (He's a bit concerned that people might be overcome with lust after seeing such a well-turned ankle. Give me a shout if you feel that happening). Please note, when people come out of the sea round here, they are usually wearing one of those massive (and expensive) dry-coat things and sliders. Then they all go to the local cafe to order coffee and cream cheese bagels and stand around discussing property prices and yachting. HOH is sitting on the pebbles, with a towel from our bathroom and a melted Crunchie, reading the paper and drawing moustaches on the Tory Leadership candidates. That's my boy - staying classy.

Also, this morning, we bit the bullet and became members at church. I worried about it for most of the night before. I used to do quite a bit of stuff in pulpits - mainly cleaning them and leaving a glass of water for the preacher. No, I did tell stories etc. but I haven't anywhere near the front few years and I was quite nervous. No need to be. People hardly noticed me - in a good way. And, unlike that dream I had,  God did not give anyone a word about me that made them stand up and shout about that terrible thing I did in 1988. (I didn't do anything terrible in 1988 - it was a dream. Don't write to Redemption Tidings.)

I saw a thing this week that said "To be stressed is to have taken your eyes off Jesus." This is quite obviously nonsense, probably written by someone in the 1650s whose main area of stress was trying to catch a pig or something. These people had no idea about Global Warming, Nuclear War, the failure of World Democracy and TikTok.  However, what is true is that Jesus knew that we would be stressed and sometimes that stress would be about real issues and sometimes it would be nonsense and his solution was "watch me", "learn from me" and er ..."Put your eyes back on me." He knows what all our chunnering is about and he says - steep yourself in God and relax.  

People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Matthew 6