Wearily upward

I don't know if you experience the same thing: going away for a couple of weeks, coming back and feeling like you've not been away at all. I've been away for two weeks. Apparently lots have changed. England won the Cricket World Cup in a nailbiter of a final; Boris Johnson is the new PM (and the world has not ended... yet...); my (nearly 2-year-old) son seems to have grown up all of a sudden; London experienced it's hottest day ever. And yet, on my walk to work this morning, it all seems to be exactly the same as I left it two weeks ago. The same shops are still selling expensive coffee; the E-car charging points still have the same graffiti; there is still the same amount of traffic on the road; people still wear headphones while walking (as do I); my desk at work is still messy (sorry about that...). So what's the use of going on a significant journey if coming back only means more of the same as before? I don't know. But what I do know is that, because ...

I recently entered our living room after a quick Sunday afternoon nap, to find our kids (Madeleine, 4; Ruben, nearly 2) eating some popcorn. Madeleine's first words to me were "Pappa, we ate your last marshmallows. Mamma said we could." This was fine with me, so I jokingly said "Okay, then I need to eat your popcorn, now..." To which Madeleine replied "You better eat Ruben's, 'cause mine's all done," That seems a bit unfair, I thought. Having both marshmallows AND popcorn, then letting your little brother "pay" for it with his popcorn. Almost as unfair as 'having the best of both worlds.' Almost as unfair as the story Jesus told about the workers in the vineyard who got the same wages for doing an hour's work as the workers who worked all day (Matthew 20). Almost as unfair as another story Jesus told about a son who left his dad and brother to live the wild life, then being lavishly welcomed home, while the other bro...

I had a lot of big dreams (the aspirational kind) when I was younger, and it was a fairly diverse array of ambitions at that. I wanted to play rugby for the Springboks, write and record at least five studio albums, become a medical doctor, travel the world to write award-winning articles and take award-winning photographs for National Geographic, then retire on a South African vineyard when I turn 35. None of it came to be. In fact, my dreams and ambitions have changed quite significantly as time went by and circumstances changed. Now I aspire to raise my children to become good human beings, to be faithful in how I do my job and handle my responsibilities, to write a good blog post every now and then, and, if I'm lucky, have a quiet cup of coffee with a beautiful view (the view being optional as long as the silence is attainable). And though these aren't necessarily bad dreams and aspirations, there is the sense that there is more to life than just having a cosy beverage...

How do you wipe your bum? Don't answer that... it's a rhetorical question. It might even be a philosophical one. And it's one I never thought of reflecting on, because I assumed everyone does it the same way. At least until I started thinking about teaching my kids how to wipe their bums. I only realised that there are different methods to this very private action after I got married and we passed the awkward "going to the loo in front of my significant other" phase. {I'm still awkward about this, btw...} TMI? Now, even though wiping one's bum is a very private action (and rightly so!) we, as Christians, can fall into the trap of thinking that the same applies for how we do church. In other words, we can easily assume that my church's way of doing things - whether it is style of worship, using liturgy or not, having kids in or out for the Service, etc. - is the best or right way of doing things; or even the only way of doing things. How wrong we are ...

There's something about watching sport that I really love. Being able to see (and share in) great skill, talent and an immense amount of hard work combined with striving for victory and glory is a privilege. So, with the ICC Cricket World Cup hosted by England and Wales, I've been on cloud nine for the last week. But not really. Being a cricket lover AND South African has made the last week or so very difficult. The South African Cricket team (the Proteas) have gotten themselves labled as 'chokers' (which means they 'choke up' in big games and lose, even when they are in a winning position). This year seems no different as they lost their first three games. And still I hope. Still I support them. Still I want them to win. Setting myself up for inevitable disappointment and despair, maybe? So I thought about hope a lot lately, and was reminded of these verses from Romans: "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering...

There are some things in life that need to be perfect in order to be effective. Things like balance sheets in the financial world (although my Accounting teacher jokingly said that, if your balance sheet in an Accounting exam balances out perfectly on your first go, you probably made a mistake somewhere...), rocket science (a microscopic error in calculation may mean astronauts missing their destination by miles), and grammar/punctuation (example: "Let's eat, grandma!" vs. "Let's eat grandma!" Punctuation saves lives...). Jesus also expects perfection from His family of followers. Read Matthew 5:48. "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (NIVUK) Does this mean the pressure is on to get everything right every time? Does this mean we'll be in trouble if we make mistakes? Not quite. Jesus is talking to His followers about loving their enemies. He says that everyone and anyone can love those who love them back. That...

I was on a train today. It was fairly full when I got on, but after a couple of stops a lot of people got off and I was able to get a seat. At the next stop a lady, probably in her 20's (I'm horrible at guessing age...), got on the train and, having no open seats in the carriage, grabbed a handrail in front of me. I immediately felt the urge to offer her my seat (which would have made my mum proud), and just at that moment I had a tinge of uncertainty. What if she was the type of feminist who might take offence at a man offering her a seat? What if she tells me off for being patronising (which I was not!) in front of a train carriage full of people? There was no way of knowing... Though this would probably have been the weakest type of suffering I would have faced all week, it still reminded me of something Peter wrote in his first epistle. "For it is better, if it is God's will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil." ~1 Peter 3:17~ The rest of that...