I should go to bed but...

I was writing a rough journal and a thought that started forming earlier this evening started forming a bit more and I figured as I was writing it down why not articulate and share. Being in suburban London right now I feel a little cut off from the rest of the world so this way I can pretend I am still in touch.

Can't be arsed to review Christmas just yet. It was good, busy, a big haze of thinking and storing up and pondering but then I suppose that is what the end of the year is for. Mary had the right idea.

What was it from today?

Firstly a circumstance that arose out of a little thing (which had been discussed at lunch in the context of mathematically modelling God's plan - not easy!). Namely a pizza that a friend and I shared and both felt at the end, with our doggie bags, that it was not worth buying such a large one as, since we were back home, dinner was provided. Stupid money that cost (for a student you understand). Ah well, we'll learn. Then on the way home, as I debated munching it anyway before dinner as something to do on the train (instead I got so into this book that I missed my stop and nearly missed it again coming back!), I was convicted to give it to a homeless lady I saw. Thus dealing with several issues at once, not least self-control. But probably most, the importance of acting on what I believe. Not a huge amount, I still can't handle that I fear, but to say that I need to practise what I preach and get down to a little bit of sharing the love and appreciating people, all people, is quite an understatement.

We had a wicked time, I always do with those that aren't bound up in this crappy society; I wonder there is any point coming back to it sometimes. I am already comfortable and indulgent and compromising my actions but a few hours on. One thing that she said, that I had read in the aforementioned book but hadn't expected to see it so clearly and so soon after, was that all the c*nts that were rude, tried to pimp her/buy her, ignore and degraded her... all these people just went to show that the ones that didn't were that much more special. She said that she saw the 1% that was good and that she didn't think many people in London even saw that. Talk about an attitude of gratitude. And such a testimony to how I see evil - the way it is there to contrast against God that we may understand how bloody fantastic He is and choose to love Him. You can't comprehend light until you see the contrast with darkness.

Not the point of this post. The point was this:
She commented on my boots and said that she like them. That she spent a lot of time at street level and so had become quite aware of such things. Then she said that she had spotted me walking past before, 'cause I had quite a distinctive outft on (I was wearing a mixture of furry snow boots, bright red and leopard print I confess) and asked me why I had come back (I did the Levite before I did the Good Samaritan). I didn't tell her it was 'cause I didn't want to get fat munching on the train but it did make me think later... She saw me, standing out in the crowd, I was not just another pair of shoes. I see a lady on the street and I think she is obvious because she is outcast and different but I (despite my outfit choices - these thing are only relevant to the analogy not the message) will merge into the crowd and pass by unnoticed. Eh-eh (imagine gameshow blunder sound). There is no excuse, there is no reason, there is no opting out of that scenario. We cannot blend into the background and pretend that we are not part of that scene, that hustle and bustle; we have been spotted and are implicated whether we like it or not.

I'm going to quote Shane now, quoting yet someone else again, 'cause he is my (and everyone else's at the moment!) new "hero". It won't be as eloquent I warn you now:
Guy says to another guy "I want to ask God why he lets so much poverty and suffering happen in the world but I'm afraid He will ask me the same question back."
We are God's hand and feet on earth now that Jesus isn't here, the body of Christ as it were, so if we see things that need doing, duh, aren't we the instruments to get it done? That last bit was very much in the words of K.B. but the principles run deeper even that S.C. nay twas J.C. Himself.

Blimey. This is some serious shit. We're talkin' 'bout a revolution, sounds, like a whisper.

Thinkin 'bout Angels

I was at a uni carol service on Friday and it was the first time this season that I've really heard the Christmas message. I went to another service at Bath Abbey last week which was a rather fabulous setting but I don't think there was much direct bible storyage... this one went through the birth, the shepherds and the wisemen - each with a bit of a "thought" afterward about how you would actually interpret this humanly. That is: teenage mum in a dark, dirty, smelly stable; shepherds all rough and scary and untrustworthy; the wisemen being, I don't remember but not a Christmas card stereotype. Two things that really came to mind:
1) Carols are not written in a good key. Bearing in mind the church wants to try and get people in at Christmas with the lure of a good singsong I really think they should drop them all by about a third.
2) I was thinkin about how Christmas looked from Heaven. Like, from the angels perspective. In particular this line I love that goes: "Heaven sings Hallelujah, Hallelujah the earth replies."
You look at the story of the shepherds too, with the whole host of angels telling the good news, and it makes you wonder what it was like up there that day.

I don't think about Heaven that much. I will one day but I've got enough to be getting on with for now, plus there's the fact that we can't really know what it will be like. It is kinda cool to sometimes sit and think about all the crazy shit there still is to come though... One thing is for sure, "when like stars His children crowned, all in white shall wait around" doesn't really say it. Hanging around waiting for something to happen whilst wearing a white dress? I don't think so.

What were the angels doing that day though? The real tangible angels that DO exist and are out there serving God on this very earth. Something along the lines of being SO excited that Jesus had come that they got to the point where they couldn't wait anymore, they had to tell someone, they had to sing about it! They had to pop down to earth find the first people they could that would respond (people that really needed this great glad tiding nonetheless) and shout for joy about how amazing it was. A human interpretation on the one hand looking at the dark and difficult side of the Christmas message, the way it was worldlyly so uncomfortable; an angelic interpretation on the other about how incredible and historic and totally indescribably amazing it is that THE SON OF GOD HIMSELF WHO IS ALSO GOD has come in human form to this earth to bring light and hope to all of mankind!!

They were making a cacophony (justifiably I do believe) and they weren't just about then. Everywhere they are there, rejoicing at our reconciliation, witnessing and cheering us on, protecting and delivering us. Not to mention the fighting of our spiritual battles, bringing messages from God, transporting people on their wings(!), worshipping alongside us... Really and truly actually there!

I really enjoyed reading 'The Screwtape Letters' when I was a bit nearer the start of this journey. I confess I didn't actually finish it as I gave it back to Miss Spitfire before I left and never got round to getting another copy, but I love how it brings the spiritual into the real world and makes you think about what is going one around us that we can't see. Jennifer Rees Larcombe has written a spectacular book which does something quite similar from an angel's perspective. It's title is 'An Angel Called Mervin'. I heard a section read out at my sister's church a while back and really wanted to get it - I found out C had a copy and she brought it round this week... I just started reading the prologue when I had to stop to write! I will totally transcribe the whole piece when I find it, it is that good, but for now this is something from the preface:
"I believe spiritual warfare is all about holy angels fighting fallen angels, but it is human faith which decides which side wins in each skirmish"

Yet again: prayer. Prayer is a powerful weapon. DO IT.

Everything is meaningless...

Well, I just spent an amazing weekend doing loads of cool stuff in Geneva. Classic tourist trips like the UN tour and Red Cross museum coupled with enchanting random days full of new friends and strange experiences. What did I say at every turn? "I'm going to blog about this". And what am I now going to write about? Coffee shops and hair dressers...

Today I had a music lesson. It was not as progressive as I would have liked: spent most of the time gossiping and having a hoarse throat (not least after the as yet undescribed weekend) but it was quite fun. From here I decided to grab a Starbucks as I had a good book in my bag and an hour to kill before my colour appointment. This was a bit of a treat as I have been abstaining for a long time; partly due to general busyness couple with a *slight* need for detox... So I went for one of my two favourites: hazelnut mocha with non-fat milk and whipped cream (the non-fat justifies the whip). I got it venti (with a maple scone) and it came out grande so I sent it back. There is a big difference and I had been looking forward to this for ages so saw nowt wrong with getting from a service what one has asked, particularly when I put them under no pressure and did it with a smile. It was not my mistake... but sending it back sure was - there was no hazelnut syrup next time which I was partially devastated by and the cup was not even close to acceptably full. The look that returned my smile said "I have the power to destroy this small pleasure and I have just done it". Still, I tell myself that there is more to life than coffee and to give her the satisfaction of making me miserable was not where it was at. I read I eat I buy shoes (lovely brown leather 'thongs' to be precise). A bit concerning my card didn't work but hey, I had cash and I coped for over a week last-time without even that.

Hair time. Finally. I had REALLY been looking forward to/in need of this one. Mirrors of late have not been my friends. Les racines were showing big time and as I am currently growing it longer I decided that it was time to steer away from porn star blonde and into a more sophisticated 5-star blend.

Foolish to have expectations on arrival: never before Switzerland have I met more opinionated hair dressers. It may have something to do with the fact I don't speak great French but whenever I suggest one thing (using images are good for this) they suggest the opposite. Like the tousled choppy look that turned into a short bouncy bob or, on this occasion, the strawberry blond/dark red low lights that would look better in... purple.

Apparently my colouring does not suit rouge. What the hell does my colouring suit then?? Helloo... Ging-a. I was already unconvinced by the platinum and I now wonder at the mix of platinum, violet and dark brown that has blended together in a very fashionable, Solomon would be envious (if he weren't so damn Godly), silvery-grey.

Still. I read my book, I wait patiently and I think about a home dye job. My hairdresser was nice and I got to practise my French. Could have been worse I tell myself. Then I get to work, sit around for hours watching a kid draw a picture he is copying off the internet and helping him with bad French grammar (my specialty). All the time getting quite into the collection of letters I am reading to drown the boredom, if not more. I am really late there and had to go straight to French, both making the mistake of not telling my teacher I wouldn't be there till 8pm and not getting the chance for dinner either.

All told, sounds a bit like all the things I should have enjoyed were a little bit sour. But you know what, it was a ruddy bloody lovely day. 'Cause all the important things were great! Robyn turns up in Geneva and though it was stupidly early and she was a bit smelly (jokes! Not at all :-D) it was the best start ever. I get a text from a new friend who is really cool and totally exciting to meet up with again. I had a wonderful time with my French teacher despite the aforementioned circumstance (because that is all it was) and was reminded of the value and blessing that is our friendship. I even had the chance to keep an otherwise boreder (English grammar ain't so hot either!) 13 year old boy from watching cartoons and rotting his mind. Really, with all this in play, who cares about hair and coffee and money and supposed freedom from work?

And it did help that the book I was reading all day long was The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis (there may well be a review to come...) which just kept reminding me fabulously of how unimportant the trivial niggles are in the grand scheme of things, yet how much they can get in the way of what is real and relevant. Hence I ended up feeling particularly free from all that shite as it ridiculed what value we can give to such things; showing what it can lead to yet how we really don't need to be subject to it at all! I loved the moment when a French woman on the bus said to me "un bon livre" and we shared a common appreciation and emancipation.

For sure I fell into about a million traps of anger, resentment, vanity, gluttony, superiority, judgement, selfishness, indifference, slothfulness and more. But who doesn't? The fact is, I am going to go to bed in a minute (with my Canadian hot water bottle) knowing that all that crap can't come with me and palpably sticking up my fingers to all the nasty works of the world that tried to bring me down today. Careful mind, trying to keep my humility intact... Damn it, there it goes.

Eh bien. Tomorrow is another day... :-)

P.S. Starting to really love the new colour and am interested to find out how silver foxes are treated in Geneva versus brassy blondes...