Yesterday was a strange day. It started with the proroguing of parliament being ruled as unlawful (which brought joy in the midst of the morning), I saw a double rainbow just (as always) at about the right moment, I had a couple of conversations I wasn't expecting and caused me to turn to my brilliant network of trustworthy ones for advice and wisdom and then impeachment proceedings were being explored to begin against Trump just before I headed to bed.
Some days are like that. But also no days are like that. We cannot underestimate the impact of what is going on in politics at the moment in the UK and the rest of the world on what is going to happen in the future. Where we don't think things can get more complicated, more complicated things happen.
It all seems so big - so uncontrollable, that it affects our very being. How do we live in a world that is full of uncertainty? How do we make plans when we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, never mind next year?
We react in different ways - some of us bed in - take control of the things we can control - we make sure our own affairs are in order, take possession of the things that we perceive to matter most and become protective over our own life and space. 'Me first' becomes the mantra, and that affects our relationships with others. In some ways this is a reflection on the causes of the current political climate in the first place - making things better for me means shutting out anything that makes me feel uncomfortable.
Some of us try to understand - we read - we try to problem solve - we tie ourselves in knots - we protest - we celebrate - we express our frustrations - we begin and join in social media conversations that are like carving through layers of hard rock with a blunt knife and fork. We find ourselves exhausted with the thinking we're doing and we lie down for while, waiting to get up again and find the way ahead.
Neither of these ways of dealing with stuff completely satisfy.
Bedding in doesn't mean that the problems go away. Bedding in doesn't help our relationships with others and makes us a little bit too insular. Although it might be comfortable, there is something about what is going on that niggles in our ear however much we try and shut it out.
Trying to understand doesn't mean we'll ever arrive at understanding and leads to frustration as we discover more complications in the things that seemed simple. Trying to understand doesn't necessarily lead to solutions, and where we are able to make sense of what is going on, the niggle in our ear is that we're too far gone to get to somewhere better and the way out will be impossible to find.
I've tried both. I've tried hiding from the news and I've tried staying up until 2am watching parliament debate (when it's been allowed to) so I can make sense of it all - but then I get frustrated and want to run and hide again..... we need to keep trying to understand, but we need to take care of ourselves, and so there are times for both - both searching and hiding, and in the search for the balance we'll find moments of peace.
After the referendum I reflected on my disappointment with the result, and I asked the question 'how do I sing the Lord's song in a strange land?' - a question the Israelites asked when they were in exile in Babylon. I didn't know how but I knew I would not stop singing.
And I haven't. I'm not going to a choir at the moment because the challenge of moving 252 miles has made finding a choir not the priority it should be, and although I know it would help me deal with all this, I don't feel ready to go there. However, even without those who stand singing with me, my singing has not stopped.
Because, even in places of despair, there is always hope. Even in the deepest and darkest of places, the light gets in through the cracks. Because when we hear stories of hope - stories of justice being done - stories of love shared abundantly - stories of lives changed - we know that there is a way through, a way that is better beyond where we are now.
And that is the Lord's song - helping us to know that however bad things get there is always hope. And while it may seems like pie in the sky sometimes and it might sometimes seem like I'm grasping and not catching - I know this hope that I have to be true - and that's what those rainbows, just at the right time, remind me.
So in these strange days where tomorrow is a mystery and things are just a little bit confusing, hold on to that hope - look for the light, the love, the peace, the justice, the signs of promise, BE that light, that love, that peace - bring justice and depend on God's promises and that - that is what will get us through.
"But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don't take yourself too seriously - take God seriously" - Micah 6:8 (The Message)
Some days are like that. But also no days are like that. We cannot underestimate the impact of what is going on in politics at the moment in the UK and the rest of the world on what is going to happen in the future. Where we don't think things can get more complicated, more complicated things happen.
It all seems so big - so uncontrollable, that it affects our very being. How do we live in a world that is full of uncertainty? How do we make plans when we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, never mind next year?
We react in different ways - some of us bed in - take control of the things we can control - we make sure our own affairs are in order, take possession of the things that we perceive to matter most and become protective over our own life and space. 'Me first' becomes the mantra, and that affects our relationships with others. In some ways this is a reflection on the causes of the current political climate in the first place - making things better for me means shutting out anything that makes me feel uncomfortable.
Some of us try to understand - we read - we try to problem solve - we tie ourselves in knots - we protest - we celebrate - we express our frustrations - we begin and join in social media conversations that are like carving through layers of hard rock with a blunt knife and fork. We find ourselves exhausted with the thinking we're doing and we lie down for while, waiting to get up again and find the way ahead.
Neither of these ways of dealing with stuff completely satisfy.
Bedding in doesn't mean that the problems go away. Bedding in doesn't help our relationships with others and makes us a little bit too insular. Although it might be comfortable, there is something about what is going on that niggles in our ear however much we try and shut it out.
Trying to understand doesn't mean we'll ever arrive at understanding and leads to frustration as we discover more complications in the things that seemed simple. Trying to understand doesn't necessarily lead to solutions, and where we are able to make sense of what is going on, the niggle in our ear is that we're too far gone to get to somewhere better and the way out will be impossible to find.
I've tried both. I've tried hiding from the news and I've tried staying up until 2am watching parliament debate (when it's been allowed to) so I can make sense of it all - but then I get frustrated and want to run and hide again..... we need to keep trying to understand, but we need to take care of ourselves, and so there are times for both - both searching and hiding, and in the search for the balance we'll find moments of peace.
After the referendum I reflected on my disappointment with the result, and I asked the question 'how do I sing the Lord's song in a strange land?' - a question the Israelites asked when they were in exile in Babylon. I didn't know how but I knew I would not stop singing.
And I haven't. I'm not going to a choir at the moment because the challenge of moving 252 miles has made finding a choir not the priority it should be, and although I know it would help me deal with all this, I don't feel ready to go there. However, even without those who stand singing with me, my singing has not stopped.
Because, even in places of despair, there is always hope. Even in the deepest and darkest of places, the light gets in through the cracks. Because when we hear stories of hope - stories of justice being done - stories of love shared abundantly - stories of lives changed - we know that there is a way through, a way that is better beyond where we are now.
So in these strange days where tomorrow is a mystery and things are just a little bit confusing, hold on to that hope - look for the light, the love, the peace, the justice, the signs of promise, BE that light, that love, that peace - bring justice and depend on God's promises and that - that is what will get us through.
"But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don't take yourself too seriously - take God seriously" - Micah 6:8 (The Message)
