7.15 is early. On a working morning. One friend calls it “sparrow fart” time, so this is a slightly cleaned up version of that. It’s the time our church chooses to have early morning prayer. I often try and go before work. Sometimes all I can hear is the sparrows, the occasional blackbird and the neighbourhood cat trying to get in! Today it felt like eating cold porridge – not lovely “overnight oats” but the real stuff, cold, with no golden syrup. Because I was full of “non drowsy” (Ha Ha) antihistamine from the night before, having been in a home where there’s a lovely cat so mostly I felt like falling asleep. One day I just sat and thought about how much I could afford to buy a new car… but on other days the stuff below is true!
“When we worship, I find myself thinking of the names of the people I love whose hearts don’t love God. It’s a weight on my shoulders that I bring to the Father, a reminder, as I am a priest too, by God’s loving grace. The Lord Jesus is my high priest and he carries on his chest, over his heart and on his shoulders, the names of his church. Like the fancy breastplate of the old testament priests, he’s decked out in rows of light dividing, eye catching, boiled-sweet colours, precious and semi precious stones, inscribed with the names of the family of God: including us ordinary folks.
It’s hard to be in a worship context and not think of that. I find it sobering.
So showing up on a Thursday, early, fighting sleepiness, and work concerns with a wrap my hands around mug of tea is a part of the fight-back. It’s the war room, the ops-room of the church and my part in it as a ordinary “soldier” is probably the most significant thing I can do week by week. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.
Tonight I’ve chosen to write so I have just completely cremated spaghetti bolognese. I think it will have added and unintented crunchy texture. I am not very good at multi tasking.