Dear Bloggists
Today’s apparent silence has been because someone had broken the internet. Or at least the part of it to which we are supposedly connected. This is becoming a frustratingly frequent occurrence. I am impatient for them to fix it.
Isn’t amazing how quickly we assimilate technology and start to rely on it? It was less than 15 years ago that I got my first computer with a dial-up modem (6k!) and now I get frustrated that I don’t get the ‘up to’ 20MB broadband speeds. I am impatient when things don’t download instantly.
It was less than three years ago that I got my first internet-friendly phone, and now I am frustrated that my Blackberry is not 3G and is slow at connecting to the www, never mind that it is connecting far faster than my first modem! I am impatient to connect.
It is easy for us to have the same attitude to what God does in our lives and through us…
We have four people preparing for Believer’s Baptism at the moment and I am thrilled to bits. But I want more.
We have regular newcomers coming along to our church, and it’s a joy to meet them and for them to join us for this part of their journey of faith. But I want to see more.
There are people who are coming to faith in our church, which is FANTASTIC! But I would love to see lots more.
Is it wrong to be impatient with God and what he is doing? Or is it the case that he could do a considerable amount more through us if we stopped trying to do things on our own and joined in with what he wants to do? If he wasn’t so gracious he would probably be getting quite impatient with me!
A man lay sprawled across three entire seats in the posh theatre. When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the man, “Sorry, sir, but you’re only allowed one seat.”
The man groaned but didn’t budge. The usher became impatient. (There’s the link)
“Sir, if you don’t get up from there I’m going to have to call the manager.”
Again, the man just groaned, which infuriated the usher who turned and marched briskly back up the aisle in search of his manager. In a few moments, both the usher and the manager returned and stood over the man.
Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move him, but with no success. Finally, they summoned the police.
The copper surveyed the situation briefly then asked, “All right buddy, what’s your name?”
“Sam,” the man moaned.
“Where are you from, Sam?”
With pain in his voice, Sam replied, “The balcony.”