I have realised why I sometimes feel pressure with this blog. I know that a few of you bloggists like to read the bloggerel in the mornings. But as often I am blogging the reflections I have had about life, the Universe and everything, I need to have had time to reflect, to consider, or just for something to have happened. That’s not always possible.
Today is a case in point. Soon I have to go to the church to serve at Open Door and I won’t be back here until mid-afternoon. If I do not reflect on anything before I leave, or if I am running late, or if nothing happens, then some of you are left bereft of bloggerel and (I know the truth) don’t have a joke to make you chortle/groan.
But my life is mundane. Few exciting things happen. A lot happens that needs to remain confidential. I don’t want to make things up for you, mainly because it won’t help me (there is a selfish motivation to this, you know). I think I have more or less run out of inspiration that I can gain from looking around my study. Not many new things arrive here (except a new monitor – see earlier this week and you will see how my mind works…).
But that is part of the point, I think. Life is mundane on the whole. Few of us live high-octane, adrenhaline-fuelled lives. Life as portrayed in the soaps and films is (sorry to break this to you) fiction.
So when Jesus promises he is with us always, he is not only there in the exciting moments, the tragic moments, the joyful moments, the devastating moments. He is also there in the mundane, the everyday, the boring. The knack is first to look for him there and then to spot him. It’s a bit like Where’s Wally? (or Waldo across the Atlantic). Where’s Jesus? He’s there in the warm smile from the person you let pull out in front of you. He’s there in the cup of tea of coffee that helps you relax. He’s there in the awkward phone call you’d rather not make. He’s there in the discussion about last night’s telly…
Be assured. He’s with us. I find that he sometimes jumps out and goes ‘boo!’ and other times remains discretely in the background. But he’s there.
Be blessed, be a blessing.
Some more from Milton Jones:
Old ladies in wheelchairs with blankets over their legs, I don’t think so…retired mermaids.
Incredible to think isn’t it, that every single Scotsman, started off as a scotch egg. Cold and gingery.
Sometimes I wonder what my grandfather would think of what I do, he spent his whole life in the kebab business, was buried with all his equipment, Probably turning in his grave.
The pollen count, now that’s a difficult job. Especially if you’ve got hay fever.
I lost my job as a cricket commentator for saying “I don’t want to bore you with the details”.
Militant feminists, I take my hat off to them, they don’t like that.