Am I bothered

I was spurred to write this by the opening song which Mrs EB played for us tonight and the shared enthusiasm of EB and the Cornish Pixie for the Mr Men. Perhaps Mrs EB can remind me of the song and the CD.

There is so much to be bothered about but the idea that we are as close to the mind of God as these hands to the keyboard is a huge inspiration to hope: a sense that come what may nothing will separate us from the love he has for us. So:

can we handle tomorrow?

our names are written on the palms of his hands

how many crazy people live in this country who think that blowing themselves up leads to paradise?

our names are written on the palms of his hands

how many crazy people occupy the White House, ( .... or 10 Downing Street, the Kremlin?)

our names are written on the palms of his hands?

How long will it be before there is serious flooding in london?

our names are written on the palms of his hands

when is the energy crunch going to crunch me

our names are written on the palms of his hands

what about the next interest rate hike?

our names are written on the palms of his hands?

I wish I could fix it for Teapot and Mrs FLN but I can't

my name and theirs are written on the palms of his hands

Fred

It is a sad fact that I have been travelling to and from Birmingham City Centre to work now for over 25 years. I am a commuter.

Commuting can seriously damage your health wealth marriage and anything else you care to name if you believe the papers. Well I can believe it if you journey into London every day.

Last weekend there was a spring clean at Four Oaks Station where I join the train most days. I apologise for not having noticed all the efforts made on my behalf but I did manage to see the new paint!

Of course journeys end is New Street Station: a kind of pit more suited to Shelob's liar in the Lord of the Rings. Descending to the platforms at the end of the day to be assaulted by the mindless bellowings of the station tannoy makes one wonder if Saruman himself had built it.

Yet there is light even in the bowels of New Street Station. Boarding the train and hearing the call "Tickets and Passes also!" in that mix of Bruumie and the Caribbean is a tonic to end the day. Fred is the guard on board. He is the scourge of the freeloaders and loafers: the orcs among the travelling public. "It is a crime to defraud the railways of even a penny" is his cry.

Timelord was once (?) running to catch his train when by some mishap his mobile phone spilled from his hand and fell to the tracks. No problem to Fred. Down he went to the lines to retrieve it for me.

A true Aragorn of the tracks.

bloggerscribble

I read the comments of fellow bloggers on the topic of Bible reading last week with a lot of interest and sympathy.

I some times feel like Mr Topsy Turvy after a few verses never mind three chapters! There is so much to take in and I sometimes think my head needs turning round so I can get into line with what God is saying.

I am sure I would be well blessed by the one or two liners or even the odd paragraph or two that my friendly SCBC bloggers might offer on their regular readings. It would be even better if a few of us had a go at reading the same book or chapters over a fortnight and then posted say one or two blogs a week on what grabs us. A fortnight is a good period for the quick to read something twice and really dig deep, the less quick to catch up and all of us to have the chance to say something.

Anyone up for this?

In anticipation I have created a new team blog called "bloggerscribble" - just to emphasise I am not thinking of deep theology. It will be a site where different people can post and only authors can comment.

So my thought for the first fortnight starting Saturday would be Psalms 120 -134. The first to sign up gets next pick!

If you want to join in just say and I will send the link. If no one replies cake supplies will still continue!!

Salute Mr Messy!

I read a review on Friday of a book called "a Perfect Mess: The Hidden Benefits of Disorder - How Crammed Closets, Cluttered Officies, and on-the Fly Planning make the World a Better Place"

The authors have trawled through the principles of pyschology, management studies, biology and physics to show why Mr Messy should be our real role model for the year of 2007.

Let me share some of their insights:

- ever spent hours searching for that missing pen or elusive and vital piece of paper and been told that you would save time if you were that bit better organised and tidy? Remind the tidy police that they forget all the time spent in filing things neatly, the indexing, cross referencing and colour coding, and then you cannot always find what you want because the index is wrong!

- a clear desk means an empty mind. Disorder stimulates creativity. A bit of mess works wonders for new ideas. Music and art depend on mess. You just have to see what it is like when Teapot is painting!

- we would not have penicillin if Alexander Fleming had cleaned his petri dish and not allowed the mould to grow. The next medical breakthrough is just waiting to happen in that mouldy piece of bread in the bread bin or that left over supper treat in the fridge.

I always felt that Mr Neat and Mr Tidy were villains. So let us celebrate Mr Messy the champion of chaos theory. Rid yourself of the guilt trips driven by your unmade bed, discarded clothes, sink full of unwashed pots, junk filled garage, overgrown garden, and car full of empty haribo packets.

....and campaign for a national day of mess!

Small beginnings

I returned to work this week.

I am one of a team of lawyers and secretaries. Some of you will know that they told me before Christmas they had paid for a tree to be planted by the Woodland Trust out at Ashby de la Zouch to remember and celebrate the life of Freelance Nerd. This week they were able to give me the certificate from the Trust and some literature about their work.

I was very moved by all this but it made me think a bit more about this young sapling.

I suppose it would be understandable to link it to FLN himself, his vulnerability and the years ahead which he will not enjoy here with us his friends and family.

But that is not really where this picture takes me.

It is almost a travesty to call this a sapling. It is something between a shoot and a sapling. And I think that is where lots of us may be at the beginning of 2007. Putting our heads above the ground, testing out the future, even seeing signs of new growth.

There is hope and a sense of promise in this young plant. It has the potential to be a mighty tree. It may be buffeted by the weather. It will need feeding and protection. But grow it will because that is its purpose in life.

So as we come to an end of the first week in the new year my prayer is for our God to feed the spirit of hope that is alive among us and that we may continue to share together the growing experiences of the days ahead!!

Confessions

I begin the new year with a confession. I want to make a clean breast of it. Hang the consequences. I know you may never speak to me again.

I am a recovering (?) marmite addict.

There you all know. The Cornish Pixie shamed me into it. If she had the courage to confess to addiction to haribos how could I continue to keep secret my lifelong struggle with the extract of yeast.

I used to be a two slices of toast and marmite a day man but now it is probably only two slices a week with the odd sneak into the kitchen cupbaord, a quick unscrew of the jar lid and the aroma fixes me for another day or so.

There are websites dedicated to the stuff [eg http://www.marmite.co.uk/love/] . Scientific studies have been undertaken as to how many slices of toast can be covered by one standard jar.
There is no end to its usefulness. Does Yankee Doodle Dandy really use it as a base for one of her famed beauty concotions? Does Big Al really use it as axle grease?

I do know that Random Shizzle's parents serve it as a delicacy to the villagers of Trapiah whenever they can get hold of the stuff.

And it is one thing the ex cons down under cannot beat us with as they make do with that ghastly substitute vegemite.

Come to think of it if Freddie and co had been taking their two slices a day of marmite on toast we would still hold the Ashes!