Hello everyone. I hope that you are ok. We are fine here. Both are recovering after being asked to speak to the youth this morning. I didn't know that they were still called "the youth", but there you are. That was a bit nerve-racking, but they were all very attentive and polite. They said that we were very cool looking, which was nice. HOH is a bit traumatised because they guessed his age correctly, which, to be fair to him, rarely happens. Most people think that he is younger than he is. I think it is probably the white hair that is swinging it these days. We were asked to give our testimonies. I'm not that keen on the word testimony. I think that it sounds a bit dry. Maybe because I had to sit through so many long and drawn-out ones as a youngster. There always seemed to be a competition about who could make their testimony last the longest, with some of them trying to recount their lives in real time. Anyway, if you have read this blog for any length of time, you will know that we have a bit of a backstory. At the end, we had spoken about recreational drugs, drinking culture, mental health, divorce (parents - not ours), cancer, homosexuality (again - not ours), church splits, the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, job losses, and the unfailing love of God. I think the leader was a bit taken aback because we don't exactly come across as having lived a bit. He just said, "Well, thank you. That is a very rich background you have there" Ha! I had forgotten how much speaking takes it out of you. I have been pooped all afternoon.
The decorations are up. We thought it was time. They are making me a bit jumpy because they are definitely pared back this year. Age is catching up, I suppose. When I was little, I remember going to my Old Aunty Louie's (I don't think she was that old, but we told it like it was in our family) and thinking it was awful because all she had was a tiny tree with a few baubles. Aged Parent was always very keen on Christmas, believe it or not. and would hang tinsel from anything that stayed still long enough. Life is short, as my dear Mama used to say (she would often add "or at least yours will be if you don't do as you are told"). Bless.
Today is the Second Sunday of Advent (I'm pretty certain), and I just wanted to think a bit about what I said last week about waiting a long time. I think that it's hard to wait for something, but almost as difficult is seeing signs of something you have prayed for coming to pass. Sometimes it's just a tiny indication. Can you imagine being a Wise Man, having spent years poring over maps and charts of the skies, looking for the promise? Then maybe you think you see something in the sky that wasn't there before? Is it a mistake? After all this time? What should you do? Well, they got on their horses/camels and went Mesiah hunting - on very little evidence. Or Joseph, looking to divorce his lovely Mary because she is very pregnant, has a very strange story about how the baby got there (strange or not - he knows it wasn't him). He has a dream, telling him not to put her aside. A dream. I know it was a different time, but I really wouldn't want to base my future on any of the dreams that I have. He. risks everything - possibly his life - certainly her life. Having babies out of wedlock was a risky business then. I've heard people talk about Joseph as he was a bit of an idiot, but I wonder if he wanted to see the promise fulfilled as much as anyone else. He kept Mary by his side and did everything in his power to make sure that it came to pass.
Sometimes, maybe, the beginning of a promise fulfilled is just a whisper, a sense of a call, something you are not even sure that you have heard. How do you think that Elizabeth felt the first time she felt her longed-for baby move - that tiny little flutter of life that she thought that she would never feel. Also, just for the record, can I stand in solidarity with Zachariah and say that I would definitely have doubted that my aged wife was going to have a baby, even if the news was delivered by an angel with all the bells and whistles. I would also have been struck dumb and - to be frank - I am suspicious of anyone who says that they would have been very switched on and spiritual and believed immediately.
It seems to me that answered prayers very rarely arrive dressed in a cheerleader's suit and playing a trombone. The stirrings of the answer have to be watched for - sometimes because things are not going to happen the way we expect, but sometimes because we don't want to miss the clues that God is on the move. Have a good week.
Don’t fear, Zachariah. Your prayer has been heard. Elizabeth, your wife, will bear a son by you. You are to name him John. You’re going to leap like a gazelle for joy, and not only you—many will delight in his birth. He’ll achieve great stature with God.
Luke 1
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