Saving


Sarah Bessey recently wrote about what is saving her life right now and invited her blog readers to consider the question for themselves:

* * *

Saving me? Right now? In this loaded tension waiting game?

People. On two sides of the world.
3am emails and four hour phone calls, a hurried text or facebook message: they’re still there, still here, and we are not done yet.
Poached eggs, cups of tea, ironing piles: we’re listening, discerning, sharing and being.
A marathon in a darkened room and a collective hush before the gun: we’re reunited but there’s no need for extravagance, this is how it always was.
Kind words and gentle stories remind me I am not alone and that this is home. They root me in this place and quiet the panic that threatens to errupt in a heart that is not yet settled. They are saving me here. Allowing me to build and grow and live.
Kind words and gentle stories tell me I am not forgotten. They remind me of what was, of that which taught me what is and sustain another life I could forget I lived. They are saving me there. Keeping a part of me until it is time.

Saving me? Right now? On the verge of a spiral, nowhere bound?

The anticipation of things to come.
Of lives changed on both sides of an unspoken, well-known divide. Of a mess made as we stumble through the game. Of tempers flaring and frustration peaking as iron sharpens iron.
Of learning by observation and participation, though the teachers may be unaware and the student unwilling. Of the formation of a family, the creation of a home. Of chaos, beauty and peace.
Of one last lap, one last battle; to win the race and the war. For now. Of new revelation and character formation. Of precious time never to be consumed in this way again.

Saving me? Right now? From weariness and frenzy?

Escape.
To a silent church where candles burn and incense rises, where ancient lessons are read and words are chanted, where your knees give out on patterned cushions and Christ stares down from on high .
To the lands of Middle Earth where Elves and Dwarves become unlikely friends, Wizards rise from the dead and a Halfling stands by his friend to the bitter end as he saves the world from unending darkness.

Saving me. Right now.

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“It is a truth universally acknowledged . . .

. . . that a single man in possession of a good fortune,must be in want of a wife.”

I watched a lot of period dramas over the Christmas period.

Cranford, Upstairs Downstairs, Downton Abbey, Pride & Prejudice (BBC 6 hour version) (twice), Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey.

It was amazing.

I’m not sure why these types of programme are so much more appealing than dramas set in the modern day, or even the future. I think their humour is a lot darker, which suits me just fine, and, of course, the costumes are always stunning. But I think what is most enchanting about them is that life appears simpler: there are rules of etiquette, an accepted social order, and a general appearance of everything being nice.  Obviously, there wouldn’t be much “drama” if these boundaries weren’t pushed; nevertheless, we know that nothing can go too far wrong!

And, at the centre of them all, is that lovely romance which we become fascinated with and obsessed by. Will she? Won’t she? Does he? Could he? Sly walks through the garden. Whispered words during a dance. Glances across the room. He just happened to be passing by and she, entirely coincidentally, dropped her hanker chief.

Sigh

Simpler times indeed. (If you were suitably rich . . . But let’s not spoil the magic)

I tend to think that beautiful programmes such as these present a better morality than modern romances all about who can get who into bed first. And even, perhaps, a more realistic depiction of the work it takes to maintain a relationship. However, I’m beginning to think that they’ve done just as much damage to my psyche as the all the romcoms and chickflicks!

I’m not expecting love at first sight like in Romeo and Juliet, or The Notebook, or WALL-E (that’s right, it happens there too!). I’m not expecting to be swept of my feet. I’m not looking for “the-one”. All that romantic nonsense has been cast out from my mind by the likes of Elizabeth and Darcy, Emma and Knightley, Mary and Matthew, Fanny and Edmund. For whom, I think it is fair to say, love is . . . stumbled upon. (Or, you know, you see the size of his batchelor pad and the mist suddenly lifts . . .) Time, friendship,  respect and eventually something clicks.

Sigh

I think that maybe it’s time I stopped watching any of them . . .

Please ignore me

I have been complaining a lot recently. Too much. Far too much. About just about everything though mainly my busyness.

I’d like to ask that you forgive me for it, forget about it and ignore me when I inevitably do it again. Most of all do not worry.

My life is manic but I love it. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s busy with good things, great things, God-given things.

Sure I get a little stressed and work quite a lot with little time for much else but that’s okay.

I was once told that Matthew 11:30 could also be translated as “My yoke is good, my burden is light” – these are the tasks God has given me and they’re good. Even better, is that Jesus says I can give them to Him.

So next time I complain, slap me round the head (gently) and tell me quit it.

Then help me make some time travelling helmets!!!