My home is looking a bit empty. There are three boxes packed, a load of stuff dumped already, another box will be sealed up this morning, the sofa is sold, etc etc etc… it’s even beginning to feel a bit echoey. And I have no idea where I’m going.
It’s a chilly, dull and wet day, but we dodged the showers and had a great walk on the rocks and along the shoreline, there were no sandlings for Pip to chase today so she didn’t need rescuing from the sandbar, and we all returned home fairly dry. For once. It had been an ordinary sort of walk, prayers for family and friends and for Afghanistan and for a solution to the Covid pandemic, for … well, you get it, all the troubles of the world. They seemed to crowd me this morning, and my words seemed too simple and banal to encompass even a tiny fraction of the fear and chaos of the world.
Making my coffee, choosing some music for ‘Alexa’ to play, I became aware of a growing excitement, an eagerness to be at my table reading the Bible. I’d finished reading Mark’s Gospel yesterday and I’d decided on Colossians today, feeling a strange urgency to ‘get at it’.
As I began to read I found the most wonderful few moments of clarity. I’m still there. That’s awful syntax, mixing up time and place, but you know what I mean. The wonder of that reading is still with me. I felt compelled, really, no – really – compelled to share it with you. So here it is, drop in with me for a coffee…. sit with me at my table… forgive the empty shelves and the echo, this my life just now;