It has been beautiful out there hasn’t it? Flippin freezing but beautiful. Apologies for not being here last week. We were blessed by a visitation from FOW2 and I had the choice of writing a blog or sharing a big bag of those new flat Maltesers, drinking wine and watching Ready Player One on DVD. I’m sorry but chocolate on the settee (in both senses of the word – I’m a messy eater) won the day. Apparently, the key to a sucessful blog is consistency, consistency, consistency so I am in big trouble.
I have been very thoughtful this week or so about the death of Eugene Peterson – author of The Message. It’s no good being sad because it appears that he certainly wasn’t. According to his family, his last words were “Lets Go!” and he appeared to spend his final hours smiling, praying and seeing something joyous that no-one else could see. I just wanted to pay a fulsome tribute to The Message. I know he would never have claimed that it was anything more than a paraphrase and, like most people, I have perhaps felt that sometimes there was more depth in an older translation but… I’m not sure that anything else has related back to me in such a joyous way. And, I will always remember the way I felt the first time I read this.
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11
Other than that – I have just been working and trying to ignore a toothache. I have a dentist’s appointment this week so the date with
death destiny will come soon enough.
Aged Parent is on a tidy kick which means that I am trying hard not to dole out an actual kick. When I say a tidy kick I don’t mean something useful like cleaning the fridge for that is my department apparently. For Aged Parent it means going though piles of old papers and finding shopping lists from 1985 endlessly fascinating and impossible to dispose of. However, bank statements, policies and last will and testaments can apparently be jettisoned without a thought. Anyway, Aged Parent threw a huge carrier bag full of details which could give a scammer a good living for a long time, into the communal bins and almost immediately realised that this was unwise. As I was at work Aged Parent had to enlist the help of “Friend with High Sex Drive” – or at least her inamorato to help her climb into the rubbish chute to retrieve her papers. He was very helpful – holding the stepladders, although I would suggest it is not unreasonable to expect him to be the person to reach into the rubbish bin rather than an elderly lady who is – according to her own description – is still in severe trauma from “Being properly run over”. Other trauma was to follow. When Aged Parent knocked on her friend’s door – she was greeted by the sight of – let us call her “a slightly portly lady” wearing just bra, pants, pop socks and holding a glass of Ribena. Aged Parent was a little concerned that she may have interrupted ahem “activity” and was therefore more than a little relieved to hear her friend say “I’ll be honest Beryl. I just couldn’t be bothered with clothes today.” As the world appears to be falling apart before our very eyes, it is somehow comforting that an elderly lady’s biggest concern of the day is how much her friend’s pop socks were digging in to her legs.
“She could do with sizing up. I told her.” Cruel to be kind – see?