Was sad to hear this week of the death of Dallas Willard. Aside from being blessed with a super-dude name. “My name is Dallas. How Do You Do? Yes indeed it is a cool name isn’t it? ” He also has the rare distinction of being one of the few people who, when I have listened to them on my MP3, I actually leave on to listen to again.
One piece is a sermon about Grace which he defined as “God acting in my life” I found this very challenging because it is not passive and means that God is part of my ongoing life and it demands a response from me. The second piece is just an opening prayer before he preached in which he used the line from God “You are perfectly safe with me.” Sometimes when I walk to work felling a bit low or afraid, I play the prayer and remind myself of this. It does a girl good I can tell you. The bloke left a legacy.
We had a visit from a couple from church this week as part of the membership process. They seemed very nice, if a little delicate for our house, and my first question, as usual was “Are you ok with dogs?” “Oh yes, of course we are.” Cue Morecambe greeting visitors with bountiful love and joy.
Nice people .”Is he a puppy?”
“Er no – he is seven”
“He has a lot energy – quite bouncy.” (Said with slightly panicky smile)
“We’ll put him in the kitchen”
Return to find nice man looking quite relieved and nice lady drawing heavily on her inhaler. It all went quite well after that.
Watched this week
Murder on the Home Front
Set in the Second World War. Based on real diaries of a real pathologist’s real assistant. Lots of attention to detail. What could possibly go wrong? Well, for me, everything really. Firstly, why do all the lady bodies in the morgue have to be stripped to the waist with their ning-nangs on show? Secondly, the pathologist is so far ahead of his time, he is practically from another dimension. Thirdly, more cliches in it than Shredded Wheat has roughage. Fully expect to see our plucky heroine (who, last week, got herself a job as a pathologist’s typist and now finds herself at the centre of every crime scene in London) running through London in the middle of the night pursued by the bad guy.
Reading this week
Miss Read – Village School
Am not entirely sure if this is one of the loveliest books I have ever read or the most boring. Nothing has happened yet – at all – nothing. But the sense of time and place is captivating. Bits even remind me of my own ancient primary school in Salford but I would just like a little thing to happen I think. Just once. Doesn’t have to be much.