Box Living

Well, suitcase living to be strictly accurate. Happy Easter, one and all. Our Easter Day service was wild - in a good way. Five people baptised - much jolliness and clapping. (On a slightly concerning side note, two of the young women told us that Jesus had helped them with their self-harm and suicidal compulsion. What are we doing to the young people? Pray for those called to be youth leaders.) There was much dancing and ribbon waving, which I have never been really that drawn to personally. Please don't pray for my deliverance into jiggy mode. I am quite happy as I am, and mainly I would just wish that those who are into the jiggy would be less judgmental of my quietness, as indeed I am expected to be less judgmental of their jiggy levels. I'm not sure there is any record of Jesus judging people on the jigometer. 

Anyway, unless no one has told you - but I expect that they have - He is indeed risen. (Or should that be he is risen indeed? I never know.) 

I heard a song this morning which I hadn't heard before (You know me and how far behind I am - it could be ringing out in churches across the land, and it may have got past me.) This song talked about the moment Jesus' heart began to beat again. In the tomb, in the dark. First beat. Second beat. Then gathering pace - stronger and stronger. Then, the first gasp. Then a deeper breath. Blows your mind if you stop to think about it. 

As for us, we continue to live out of suitcases. There's not enough storage to hang things up, and we both find it weirdly comforting to keep stuff in the cases. The new flat is clean, and we don't have to pay for the heating, so it could be worse. This weekend, we were given permission to call back to our place to pick up a few things. I was not ready for how distressing it would be to see everything where we left it. I understand that it is not Ukraine (I NEVER SAID IT WAS, DID I?). Sorry, just having to bite my tongue about that one a little too many times. 

I sent a slightly terse letter to our MP, Luke Pollard, with a few bits and pieces in it, including the lack of information, and I received a very concerned reply, so he is back in my good books, and I am sure that he is very relieved about that. Speaking of books, we are both reading a lot because we can't get the telly to work properly. The only local news we can get is the one from the North East of England, and HOH is not finding the weather for the North Sea coast very helpful when trying to judge if he can swim. So we are both finding the Alan Bennett very charming. He's a bit of a miserable soul, but the older I get, the more attractive I find that in a man. Although I am obviously aware that I would be barking up the wrong tree there. 

I am, as I have said, aware that things could be worse, although we have no idea where this is going yet, and no one seems of a mind to tell us. Still, I saw something my friend Nadine put on Instagram this week, and it made me think. My friend is a full-blown top-level left-winger, and I am often very impressed by her arguments. However, I'm not really in the market for another political party at the moment, and I'm not sure I could really vote for that Zac chap who was running adverts saying that he could grow your bust. I'd like to see him try with mine.

So she put something up saying, "Thank goodness that we are having to pay for this war with higher prices rather than our children's lives" It's just a thought. Have a good week.