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 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.
Empathising. We lived out of suitcases for 5 weeks, when we arrived in Kent in 1981. He was to be student pastor, I was teaching in a grotty secondary modern school, and the accommodation fell through All our stuff and most of our clothes went into storage. A kind young couple from church generously offered us their spare bedroom ' until your flat is available". It was a tiny terraced house, she and I both suffering bad morning sickness, and there was only one bathroom. We survived (just about) I struggled a lot, finding the whole experience a Great Trial. And wellwishers telling me that ' there a lot of people worse off than you are, dear' did not really help. I hope your situation is sorted soon. You have each other. And Jesus.And no morning sickness. I'd invite you to stay here for a week, but it's a long commute to your job.
ReplyDeleteOoh, I remember morning sickness - the idea of having it outside my own home would fill me with horror. Although I was never actually sick, I have never known nausea like it. I remember telling my GP that even my fingernails felt sick (which was a description that he used, apparently, in a paper on pregnancy sickness). We are starting week three now, so onwards and upwards
DeleteYour tongue must be sore from all that biting!
ReplyDeleteJust to listen to Alan Bennett's voice, never mind what he is saying, is soothing. Listening to a recording of him reading the small ads or dull reports of company board meetings would solve sleep problems for everyone.
Yep, I'm loving the book. Although when he doesn't like something, you certainly hear about it (but it is very funny)
DeleteYour friend's thought is a valid one.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry you are living out of suitcases. I always rather prefer that if I go away, although I realise you are not doing it through choice. It is unsettling, to say the least, and I hope you will soon have some positive news.
Thank you. It's a bit weird to not want to unpack, but we are finding it strangely helpful. Also, I haven't ironed one single thing. "We are living out of suitcases, don't cha know"
DeleteWhen we got married, 40 years ago, the sale of the house we were buying fell through. We moved into the one room my husband had been renting in a shared house. All of our stuff, including the wedding presents were in boxes in a corner of the room. I was determined not to open anything until we were in our own house. I can really relate to you wanting to live out of suitcases. It was also useful to be able to say to our sons when they were moaning about something.'When we started out we lived in one room!'.
ReplyDeleteSeriously I hope the situation doesn't last much longer. x
Thank you x. We are resigned to it taking a few weeks now, but I still want it to feel temporary. Funny how many people, including yourself, have related to that.
ReplyDelete