Songs of Praise

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TV ARK

"Lancaster Pam Rhodes learns about the historical importance of the city of Lancaster, and visits a school that makes its own sausages. The programme also features hymns from St Thomas's Church, as well as performances by Lexie Stobie and Tessera"


I was searching the TV for tonight and came across the blurb above for 'Songs of Praise.' I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this. "Pam Rhodes learns about the historical importance of the city of Lancaster, and visits a school that makes its own sausages." '..visits a school that makes it's own sausages?' This programme is what remains of Christian broadcasting in the UK TV networks and the presenter is not bringing us news about Jesus and his suffering on our behalf, instead she is visiting a school to look at the sausage making! Are the BBC for real?

While this generation now flaunts their agnosticism and the professional atheists ram their unbelief down our throats there remains a right of believers to have some sort of representation on Sunday TV, but this sad caricature of worship fails them miserably! Few would return to the Reithian days but the one programme with specifically Christian content could at least be Christian. Maybe that is a concept a step too far for the controller of such programmes today. The controller at the moment I think may be an unbelieving Muslim, or was it a Sikh? Whatever he is his brief is to widen the religious programming to cover all faiths and none, although how you cover no faith is beyond me. In itself this is fair enough but what actually happens is , well nothing! A meaningless (cheap) discussion programme at ten on a Sunday morning that few watch, and a watered down 'Songs of Praise.'  Well worth the money that! Shambles is not the word.


'Songs of Praise' I think was once intended for those who could not attend their church on a Sunday, today it is a glorified choir practice. This programme uses its own hymn book, they gather choirs from all the churches in a specific area and practice them for a week. Whether these are Christian or nominal does not appear to matter, what matters is lots of faces singing properly and any genuine member of that church is shoved to the back, unless they are featured in the programme. While the singing may succeed,the praise fails. All too often we are left with lots of ageing women, possibly a children's choir, each individual focused, not on God, but on a choirmaster. That is not praise! Now I grant you many believers are to be found among those choirs, and many others seek their God, however this does not reflect the reality of Christian worship in the UK today. I wonder also if this brings the truth of the good news to an individual as well as it might?


Much better to drop this programme and spend several weeks interviewing Christians throughout the land. Not just those famous names but the everyday man in the pew, well seat actually today, and discover how Jesus himself has changed their lives, and not actually made it easier for them while doing so. Much better to watch real people in action that sing a few songs, often good ones, and glimpse individuals lives for a short moment, even if those stories are often touching indeed. The whole programme as it is gives the impression the church is for old women! This is not the case! Far too often those who appear are middle class men in fancy robes or purple vestments relating to few indeed! Jesus Christ is alive and well and changing lives of those who accept him. Throughout the country people are discovering that he is alive yet when they look at the TV screen they see the blue rinse set all too often and little to grab their hearts. 


Jesus Christ himself has come to bring life, real life, abundant life, yet I do not believe this programme shows this. While there are those who tell of what God has done for them all too often we find such items as schools making sausages! This I can tell you is fun but not abundant life! I do not disparage the programme as such, I am happy that there are many who enjoy this programme, however if we are to have a Christian show in the evening let's have a real one, let's reflect the church,in whatever denomination, really has going for it! Let us show the power of Jesus to change lives!


It must be said that in these days Christianity is being pushed aside in an aggressive manner. Christians know the reason for this, and amongst other things showing Christianity in a poor light serves that purpose. However  God has as much right to be heard as anyone else, and while programmes cover all aspects of life the BBC must also provide a fairer representation of God in this world. No-one would object to such fairness being offered to Jews, Hindus or Muslims. Indeed religion is only mentioned during the news or laughed at in most other programmes so it is time for a fairer investigation of the actual effects of belief. That is not being given at this moment in time.




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What I think of the 'Easter Bunny!'

Easter Morning

'Without the taking of blood there is no remission of sins.'

Strange how we fail to realise how our wrongs must be atoned for. Much better to push them aside and 'hope' they will be forgotten, letting all fear of judgement be pushed away and considered unreal. Deep in our hearts we do know right from wrong, and our conscience, however stunted, does not let us rest. Preferring eggs and shopping we increasingly ignore Easter, seeing it as no more than a minor Christmas. This way we miss out on the God who desperately wants to give us life abundant! The empty tomb reveals the depth of love, the distance God himself travels to bring us to himself. What sort of God is this that knowing our nature takes our pains just because he wants each and every one of us?

'Jesus died for our sins and rose for our justification.'

A Mixed Saturday

Getting up early this morning I decided to wander around Sainsburys for the weekly fruit and veg. I knew that with it being a holiday weekend, and with snowflakes attempting to fall, that the market stalls would not turn out today. Naturally, as I left the store, I could see the usual veg man trying to erect his stall in spite of the wind fighting valiantly against him.
I then attended to the clean up and washing and all the other things that must be done on a holiday weekend when some folks are enjoying a break and I am plodding around looking for Somerfields own brand washing powder. Well it is actually a kind of purple liquid but you know what I mean.
Smugly satisfied with myself I then turned to the main project of the day, attempting to complete the reinstalling of XP that I began yesterday. All day I spent downloading, installing, scratching my head, installing, querying, and installing till the candle was near the end of its life. Naturally my work had not been completed, I still had to connect to the web and reinstall OE. Today that was accomplished, and some hours later Outlook Express finally allowed me to use it. It is one of the wonders of this computer world that instructions for a wide variety of computer hard and software come incomplete! However I had wisely kept the secret hidden away and, once I remembered this, Success was achieved.
The word success does not include sound of course. No sound whatsoever can be obtained at the moment. 'No audio device' it claims, although I do get a buzz every so often - not like that - so something makes a noise. Oh yes, and the 'floppy' still wants a disk inserted in 'A.' So that is lost also.
However I managed to make an almost uneatable soup out off a wide variety of near penicillin veg that I had lying around. That I used tonight to take away the taste of the 'Flanders Curry' that I had for lunch, with oatcakes. The dole office have never suggested I take up cooking for a living, which is just as well. I once fed beautiful young lass who worked for the environment folk at the council. She closed down my kitchen! While doing this I listened to Sky Sports as the season begins to draw to an end. My ears were anxious to hear the good news of our mighty hammering of Falkirk at Tynecastle today - it never happened. It seems instead we had a dreary nil-nil draw which does not suit us at all. There will now be a moment for sympathy.

Thank you.

An unusual thing did occur tonight mind, I laughed at 'You've been Framed!' One of the sequences had me in tears of laughter and that has not happened for a long time, tears of woe and despair oh yes, but laughter - no! Mind you some folks blogs have come close to it in recent days. Usually deliberately!

But as I looked out of the window I realised just how much I love Spring. The birdies flit cheerily through the trees, singing happily while they begin the breeding season, maybe that's why? The chaffinches and robins, dunnocks and blackbirds pour out their song brightening the dawn. One advantage when I was a postman was to hear the dawn chorus beginning as I cycled to work, marvelous that was. High overhead a kestrel may circle or hover while seeking out the tiny speck that is a mouse or vole far below. Wood pigeons coo irritatingly loudly outside folks windows long before the alarm clock has threatened them into life. Massed ranks of rooks or crows,(who knows the difference?) caw loudly high in the trees, and somewhere a thrush takes time off from listening intently for the worm and instead sings beautifully while announcing that this is his patch so clear off. Among the trees covered in budding leaves are masses of bluebells showing through the darkening floor. Daffodils can be seen in many places, and snowdrops and little blue flowers begin to appear. Lovely, just lovely. The sight cheers the heart, a lightness within accompanies the lightening of the skies above, and the sun climbing higher each day, ensuring the sky is that little bit deeper blue, and the whole world appears a better place. No wonder folk in Norway and Finland who suffer six months darkness each year go bananas! That is enough to turn anyone into a Viking invader!

Admittedly, being Easter, the weather would turn a tad chilly. There is a slightly cold front moving from the north, starting at the north pole and passing through Iceland picking up snow and ice on its way. Kind hearted as it is the front is leaving Spring snow all across the highlands and down the east coast of England. Some of it has been plastering itself against my window all afternoon! To be honest it is bright and sunny at the moment but I can see in the distance another huge dark gray cloud heading towards us. From the light blue sky above small sleet like flakes are drifting by, doing their best to grow up into snowflakes. Now in my humble opinion, if the ice flows are melting, glaciers shrinking, and the Maldives and other places beginning to flood maybe it would be a better idea to keep all this white stuff up there in the north where it belongs? Could we not persuade the weather folk to do something about this?
Clouds have always fascinated me in some ways and I can see why Constable put them in his pictures so often. I doubt he realised just how large a cloud could be. In the far distant past I flew home to Edinburgh and the whole journey was above cloud. Later that night the weather forecast showed the size of the cloud. The picture revealed one single cloud that stretched for thousands of miles from the Arctic to the Mediterranean, and from the Atlantic to the centre of Asia. What a size! Add to this the variation in the clouds, what the meteorologist will understand from them, and what they comprise, it just leaves me wondering in the same way I do when confronted by other elements of creation such as the sea, or mountains. Fascinating. Wonderful stuff, but I would really rather get sunburned somewhere in the Mediterranean!

I am however suffering that guilt that turns up every so often. The guilt caused by talking to my mother! My Mum is a wonderful person and does so well for someone who is 93. However while I want to keep in contact I really find less and less to share with her. My conversation is limited at the best of times, and she is trapped indoors too much at this time of year, and after discussing the weather, the 9 year old, what she eats, and nothing else really there is nothing to say. Women need to converse in a way men don't, and all to often this is plain boring, and add to that my life being very different for the family up north, and indeed everyone else on the planet, it is a very trying time. Until my sister died things were OK, she would call and talk for hours about nothing, and she was just around the corner, not 400 miles away! It is so frustrating, and made worse by here deafness. I am not going to spend all night shouting down a phone!
So nearly every time I call I end up full of guilt, and angry! I want to do more, and I don't want to spend time talking about her dinner for an hour-again! Excuse me, I am just off to gas myself!

Good Friday

What sort of God are you, that sacrifices yourself, for people like us?

'This is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us,
and gave himself for us, while we were yet sinners.'

Sunday Morning

I threw off my Duffel coat and removed my jacket, I dropped my thick pullover on the floor and added the thin one to it, the fleece jacket and chest protector were thrown down alongside. On to them I placed my thermal trousers and Ski pants. My baseball cap and woolly hat were flung aside and after removing the two pair of football socks I threw aside the old army blankets and leapt out of bed. Blearily I drew apart the torn bedraggled rags that imitate curtains and looked with wonder at the world. The world in turn looked wonderingly at me and muttered, "What on earth is that?"

Huddled over a candle, to save on the electric, I downed a pint or two of coffee and attempted to recover my mind. This having failed I fought valiantly against the biting wind to the newsagent and bought an overpriced paper. Quite why I have this desire to waste money on this I cannot understand, but I gave in to the temptation. The result, as you can appreciate, is a large pile of paper lying all over the floor. The 'Money' section has gone along with the 'Business ' and 'Motor' sections. 'Travel' was glanced at, but the trip to Vietnam, while enticing, is slightly over my budget. Still to be glanced at and added to the recycling box is the 'Sport,' (all English of course, you would never think there was a union in 1707 would you, not from these papers) the colour supplement, which I guess will contain little worth reading, and the TV section (referred to as 'Culture' to make it more impressive!). Lying by itself is the actual paper! This will contain some news, some 'in depth' items, a handful of self opinionated columnists and lots of adverts! Well worth the money.........

Later I tuned into the televised service from Luss. Last time I quite enjoyed this and thought it a good idea. A typical Church of Scotland, somewhat formal affair. This time however I was sore tried by the constant 'greetin' of a couple of bairns who's mother, like all mums everywhere, was totally deaf to their noise. Unfortunately the microphones were not and this rendered the spoken word unintelligible. Now I love kids, I used to be one, and I find they can be a great source of fun and enjoyment, except when using the video to store ice cream, throwing stones at the window or burning down schools. I also believe kids ought to be in Sunday school or crèche where church is concerned! Alas this brought out the crabbit in me and ruined my morning. The children were kept in throughout because they were to be baptised. This did unsettle me as baptism ought to be for those who are able to comprehend what they are doing. In the CoS it is used to make folk 'members' of the church even as infants, therefore implying salvation, however salvation is only by the 'Born again' experience, however you define it. I have come across those who have claimed they had experience of Jesus when they were only three, and I am sure they did, however this is not the norm. Now many in the CoS know their God, and some famous men have agreed with infant baptism, but I suppose for far too many biblical knowledge is so limited and considered unimportant. God is for Sunday, and we all just do the best we can the rest of the week, a well meaning nominalism. These are often the best folk to know,but God has more,much more for us in himself. I am still troubled by what I saw today.

In fact I am so upset I am going to watch Ghana v Nigeria in the African Nations! C'mon Ghana, C'mon Larry Kingston!

Knowing God

What matters supremely therefore, is not,in the last analysis,the fact that I know God, but the larger fact that underlies it - the fact that He knows me. I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind. All my knowledge of Him depends on His sustained initiative in knowing me. I know Him, because He first knew me, and continues to know me. He knows me as a friend, one who loves me; and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted from me, and no moment, therefore, when his care falters.

This is momentous knowledge. There is unspeakable comfort - the sort of comfort that energises, be it said, not enervates - in knowing that God is constantly taking knowledge of me in love, and watching over me for my good. There is tremendous relief in knowing that His love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion Him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench His determination to bless me. There is certainly, great cause for humility in the thought that He sees all the twisted things about me that my fellow - men do not see ( and am I glad), and that He sees more corruption in me than that which I see in myself (which, in all conscience, is enough). There is, however, equally great incentive to worship and love God in the thought that, for some unfathomable reason, He wants me as His friend, and desires to be my friend , and has given His Son to die for me in order to realise this purpose. We cannot work these thoughts out here, but merely to mention them is enough to show how much it means to know, not merely that we know God, but that he knows us.



From 'Knowing God,' by J. I. Packer. I recommend this book.

'The Might That Was Assyria' by H.W.F.Saggs.

A short while ago I wandered into the library section of this dingy abode and searched the many bookshelves lining the wall in a suitable manner to hide the cracks. Many leather bound volumes gleamed in the dim candlelight, first editions gathered dust here and there, library books that should have been returned when the Tories were in power sat guiltily on an old desk and strategically placed under the shaky table leg I found 'The Might That Was Assyria!'
This excellent book I purchased from the 'Al Saqi Bookshop ' in Westbourne Grove around 1990, but whether the bookshop has survived as well as the book has I cannot tell. Recently I decided to have another wander through the book and I am glad I did. If you desire an easy to read, very informative introduction to the Assyrians this is the book for you. Beginning with the geography of the region, and then describing the earliest agricultural settlements, around 9000 BC, Saggs, in an easy to read narrative, brings us through the rise and fall of the Assyrian Empire. From the vassaldom under Mittanni the growth of independence, then the inevitable domination of the region, we see human nature in action. Saggs has a terrible time excusing the empire building of the nation he very much admires. He claims their expansion was merely a result of ensuring their own borders, which on occasion meant raids into neighbouring lands. At times these 'raids' led them to the Mediterranean and eventually into Egypt and to possess the greatest empire known at that time!

Poor old Saggs does not want to refer to the bible. The prophets in Jerusalem had a terrible habit of putting the Assyrians down, and tend to consider them bad. However, Mr Saggs has to refer to these prophets and their writings to back up his arguments regarding his boys. How he must have hated that! Of course the most common reference to the Assyrians in the bible is when they did venture right up to the gates of Jerusalem under Sennacharib and were forced to flee, although our friend Saggs claims this was because of a Babylonian uprising, not Gods intervention. Some of us can testify that every day events are often just the way God does intervene in his world. It is amazing how coincidence happens when you pray!

Sennacherib was an efficient king, his rebuilding of Nineveh and his other construction works were extensive and he clearly was a leader of men. His name reflects one of the sad notes of his time, the death in childbirth of so many young, it means 'The god Sin has replaced the brothers,' pronounced, 'Sin-ahhe-eriba,' or 'Sennacharib' to us. The brothers clearly were those who died in childbirth, even the royal house suffered like the rest. Ashurbanipal was, as well as an imperialist, a man who collected manuscripts. These were usually the clay tablets covered in cuneiform script but also material written on other material, sometimes in other languages. His concern mostly being with the supernatural. When you are aware that life can change for the worst at any moment it is wise to attempt to read the future. Omens abounded in the kings library, showing his thin hold on power, and the fragility of life in Mesopotamia.

After taking us to the end of the Assyrians, the Babylonians took their place as the major power for a short while, Saggs then gives details of the religion, medicine and army organisation etc of this once great empire. His bias towards them ensures he manages to explain away their savagery to those who opposed them. 'Just to punish the rebels' is the idea he puts forward, although being skinned alive is one way to punish I suppose.
However the one thing that stuck in my mind was the fact that the Assyrians were just like us! In the UK we only know them via the Old Testament where they are denounced and clearly feared. So disliked were they that Jonah, when ordered to tell them to change their ways or else, would not go because he knew YHWH would forgive them if they did repent! That did not please our Jonah. However, here we see them as people, just muddling through as best they can, just like us! They had their wars of 'freedom' and then their empire, their kings lording it over them, and occasionally the people rebelled, most of course having little option in their choice of life had to take the best out of what was on offer, many good times were had, just as there were bad times. People, in spite of the 'culture' or the time in which they exist, are all just the same in the end.
'We are all Jock Tamson's bairns.'

This book is worth a read as it enables us to understand ourselves as well as the OT. One day, when rich, I will seek out his 'The Greatness That was Babylon.'

Friday Night

Friday Night. Everybody is out gallivanting, or being hassled by wives and families, possibly just getting over the week and resting the brain that has been tested once too often this week. This means they are unable to post therefore leaving us, the unwanted dregs of society, to post away into the ether. Possibly this means our scribblings may never be read, but will that hinder us? No! However it is with regret that I find myself with nothing worth posting! Tsk! So, I will scrape the barrel bottom just to fill time while my gruel is burning on the pot hanging over the fire.

I could make mention of the award given to me by that wise man Sicarii. Yes another award, (excuse me while I stand in front of the mirror patting my hair while a bright glint is seen emanating from my teeth). While I grasp this with both hands (please excuse the filth on them, I have just washed my face), I must refrain from adding it to the board itself. You see he, and many others, post specifically about their spiritual lives while I just rant and spout whenever I have had too much coffee, or the Prozac runs out. Some may have noticed this.... While gratefully received it would intimate the blog is something it cannot be and give the wrong impression. I leave such blogs to those who can properly write them, I just spout whatever flits through my mind, leaving me able to cover other important subjects, Football, er...and,.......... there must be something else...

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Quizzes
I am watching the 'Eggheads' quiz at the moment, as the smell of burning gruel drifts past, and I wonder what is it about such programmes that take hold of us? I first started listening to the 'Brain of Britain' quiz around 1975/6 time, and I have been hooked ever since! Why? What is it about the general knowledge quiz ? I very rarely miss this programme, even though the excellent Robert Robinson no longer holds sway, and thoroughly enjoy a quiz that is much too hard for my little bonce. A recent radio programme investigated the 'Pub Quiz' and the somewhat cynical presenter admitted at the end he was hooked! Small five question quizzes appear in most papers these days and several people can be seen struggling to find the answers. Such a simple formula and so satisfying when a high score is reached! TV and radio stations must have some for of quiz show. Often these are dumbed down, a simple choice of three answers from a stupidly easy question to help raise cash from those calling in, or just to offer a prize that will keep the audience eager. Flashing lights and big name 'celebrities' to ask questions helps ratings, especially when some over hyped lass is in tears at her £several thousand pound success. This begs the question,why must they all be so hyped up? A dull show we do not want but hysteria, is it really necessary? The calmer scene on 'Mastermind,' or 'University Challenge' does not detract from the show, but maybe tabloid everything is what sells best in this world. Funny how worldwide a little thing like a quiz can be so popular
Hmmm I did not do too well on this edition of Eggheads, the questions must have got harder!. And while I scrape this black stuff from the pot I will consider a little quiz for next week maybe.

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Joke

On the way to my job this morning, I rear-ended a car at the lights down the road.
Somehow I just knew it was going to be a bad day after that.
The driver got out of the other car, and he was a dwarf, poor soul.
He looked at his dented car and then looked up at me and said angrily "I am not happy"
I said, "Well, which one are you then?"

Anyway that's how the fight started.......

Christmas Cards

About this time you will probably be thinking about Christmas cards! This is the time of year you make a list of those folk who ‘must’ have a card sent to them, even though you ignore them the rest of the year, and indeed may not even like them! Families being families and folk being folk, you send them anyway. Now I understand why people get trapped into the Christmas card habit, but fear not I have good news, it is NOT compulsory! I had a legal eagle search the laws of both Scotland and England and nowhere was it compulsory to send a card. So if you don’t send a card to the person you do not like nothing will happen to you, honest. In fact, if you do not send them a card you may well benefit them also as they will be freed next year from the need to keep in touch with you! Hallelujah! One year I put this to the test. I worked out all those I WANTED to send cards to, and all those I thought I ought to keep in touch with. I considered whether it was worth while sending to some, and whether they rally wanted or needed to contact me. After considering how many cards either party might send needlessly I made a list of those I would bless with my cheap cards. I felt no guilt!

The next year, those I had omitted from my ‘must/want to send’ list, omitted me from theirs. We were all glad. Money and effort was no longer wasted. Friendships, occasional and worthwhile, remained. I tell you not to be oppressed by the need to send cards to folk you wish to drop. They may feel the same towards you! Anyway, if within the next year they infer they wish to keep contact no harm is done by the loss of a card, is there?

Now I realise this is not always possible, in the real world compromises must be made. One year I worked in an office staffed with 14 women. At Christmas time these girls gave each other cards. As we sat at desks next to each other, and as most of them were Hindus and the others Muslim, I found this desperate need to give cards somewhat strange. I did point out the novelty of being forced by such to waste money on a card to join the dozen already crowding each desk, however the noise of my protest, and the physical threats if I failed in their duty, was overwhelming, and for the sake of peace I obeyed. I did suggest one car with their name on it, and they could tick it off as it passed, but this was not welcomed. Compromise? Me? Oh yes, the boss,she was an Irish catholic, and very rough I can tell you!

Wise Men?
But consider carefully the cards available. Are they really representative of Christmas as it actually occurred? Matthew is the main man where Christmas is concerned, and Luke tells us from what I think is Mary’s point of view. A child’s birth tends to stick in a girls mind I have discovered. Take the arrival of the magi for instance. These men, usually referred to as ‘Wise men,’ don’t appear to me to be to wise on most Christmas cards do they? Three men on camels, staring up at a very bright, beautifully drawn spectacular star, one pointing skywards implying the other two are to dumb to see the star that lightens the world around and fill a third of the card! Some wise men they! But nowhere does it say three men arrived. They presented three gifts, Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh, but nothing to say how many men arrived. Anyway, three men on camels coming all the way, possibly for the Babylon area, on camels with a vacuum flask and a packet of sandwiches does not appear to my little mind to be too accurate. Each man would have had a party of men with him, servants, probably slaves, several camels and donkeys, and would have joined with as many others as possible to travel the vast distance in safety. One Italian film on St Matthews gospel shows three such men meeting up and travelling together. Each one talking loudly to drown out the hand waving yelling servant hordes with them! That is much more realistic than three lads on their own, and much more biblical in my view also.

Baby in Manger?

But what is in front of these men? Usually a small wooden hut, surrounded by a bright shining yellow glow awaits them. A wooden barn may contain the family, with attendant cow and donkey happy in the background. Everything clan and bright and very Hollywood, and like Hollywood have as much chance of reality as I have of becoming Pope! None at all. It is most likely Jesus was born in a cave. As you probably know better than me (I just think I know a lot, mostly I find others actually know facts), Bethlehem was on a hill, and the folks in Israel used these caves for many purposes. One such was a s a shelter for animals, and sometimes people lived there also. This is not too strange as in the British Isles in days past many folk lived in what sometimes were called ‘Black houses.’ Small stone built houses, divided into two parts. In one side were the animals, in the other the family. The animals helped keep the place warm at least! These turfed roofed houses were still in evidence in some places at the beginning of the 20^th century! It is no wonder that by the time a pregnant Mary and Joseph had walked from Nazareth Bethlehem was full. Yes I said walked, I doubt they would have had the cash for a donkey, and if they had in such a society Joseph would have been the one on the Mule, not her! In the wall of such place a ledge was chipped out and filled with fodder for the animals feedstuffs, and it was into one of these that Jesus, the Son of God, was laid, wrapped in the usual manner in swaddling clothes, to sleep. The place would have been clean as it was possible for a cave barn to be, the animals would have been, well animals, and Mary would have been knackered! As would Joseph, he of course had the hard job in all this. Knowing what they both knew about the announcement of the birth, the arrival of these strange, generous rich men, then the shepherds (the lowest of the low at that time), it would be interesting to read Josephs thoughts as the action occurred around him.

Maybe it is just me that thinks most Christmas cards have little to do with Christmas, just as folks who spout all to easily ‘The real meaning of Christmas’ and bounce over -zealously on the telly in programmes recorded last March, have as much idea of the real Christmas as I have of being rich! Christmas is a time for commercial exploitation, but this does not mean we ought to be Oliver Cromwellian about it. I like Christmas pudding! It is a time to get together with friends and family, it is a time folk find themselves in a church, and it can be a time for bringing good news to those who never hear it. But for Christians it ought to be a time to emphasis the biblical truths, and not half truths expounded on Christmas cards.

There are other cards which reflect a Christmas of the mind as opposed to reality, you know the ones, the happy Victorian scene, the one where a stagecoach glides through the snow filled streets past well dressed happy folks, with kids throwing snowballs and glowing shop windows in the background. Such cards tend to forget the kids had rickets, one third of the population were on the breadline. In fact usually this means is they had a job tomorrow, but often and many as a third did not! The happy folk in the shops were working 98 or more hours a week, and the happy folks who could afford to buy would either die in childbirth or from TB or some disease we use a few drugs to cure. Cynical? No just realistic. Many Victorians were happy, but these scenes are deceptive, I wish a better Christmas, a more honest one.

The Robin sitting on the snow covered branch is another deception, as the bird is with us all year round. It is also an adulterous bully boy in the bird world, very Christmassy, if you are shallow enough to think ‘Eastenders’ is worth watching!
Snow scenes and snowmen abound on cards, this is amazing as outside of the Scottish highlands we never see snow till February ,and anyway snow is cold horrid stuff that freezes everything, causes accidents and I hate it anyway! Send it back to the Arctic where it is needed I say!

Shall I bother to convey my opinions on cards fronted by Santa Claus? Or if you are middle class and ‘Santa’ is too childish for you, change it to ‘Father Christmas’ and make this fairy tale character, usurped by the ‘Coco Cola’ company, into something more acceptable. How many folks enjoy the kiddies belief in ‘Santa Claus’ but never explain the Jesus was lying in that manger in a cave? Burn Santa ‘s sleigh and eat the reindeer I say! And when you are at it ask him why I never got that CD I wanted last time!

‘Peace’ is common, ‘Peace on earth to men’ the cards often claim, although many are now correctly inserting the better ‘peace to men of goodwill’ as opposed to ‘Peace to all men,’ as peace is offered but too often ignored. The Dove with the olive branch is very biblical, at least when the snows melt in February. ‘Joy’ is often seen on cards, and such cards, often in boxed sets, are bought from the local Clintons by miserable looking folk who have not smiled since they won £10 on the first week of the Lottery. ‘Joy’ indeed! But honestly, how many Christians make you feel ‘JOY’ when you meet them? All too few I say. The Holly and the Ivy just sting the fingers and should be placed, neatly, on a compost heap where they would be of more use.

Cards made to placate the politically correct, saying ‘Happy Holiday’ instead of ‘Happy Christmas should be recycled. Companies who insist on such greetings so as not to cause ‘offence’ should be sued for being offensive. Just what exactly should be done to those cards which, when opened, ring out computerised versions of Christmas Carols I leave to your imagination. But if one comes my way I suggest you transfer yourself into any regiment now patrolling in Afghanistan. That would be safer!

Humour
I gave up on religious cards long ago. They do not convey biblical truth, and all to often are discarded unnoticed by the recipient. I only use carefully selected humorous cards, such as the one shown, that is my preferred card this year, as they are better for the folk at the other end. At least they get a laugh! A minister friend had dozens of cards one year, many from folk worldwide, and far too many were routine religious type cards. People were afraid to send something frivolous in case he was offended! Incredible to think that people can be so stupid!
Use cards well, and do not follow convention as that stifles life. If it must be religious make it biblical or forget it! But I think most folks will be happier with humour. That's closer to what it really is all about.

Neds

Just where do the neds that plague our streets come from? Do they arrive in ships and planes from abroad? Are they hanging on the back end of lorries crossing the channel perhaps, possibly they just drop down the chimney with Santa each Christmas? Or could it be that the feckless young yob who finds entertainment by taking drugs and cheap alcohol, throwing up in the streets and stealing cash from old women is in fact a product of our society itself? In short, your fault and mine!

While it may not exactly be our fault directly, I wonder if it is indirectly as we have let the society around us disintegrate into a liberal mish-mash of self based ideas masquerading as 'freedom.' The encouragement to divorce and allow folks to separate from failed marriages seems at first sight a good and fair one. Indeed we all know that failure is sometimes inevitable in some cases. But when laws are passed allowing divorce why was there no attempt to provide help for those who really wanted the marriage to work but could not cope with the strain? The 'marriage Guidance Council' in the early 80's received million pound a year from the government, a government that began to spend umpteen million on benefits and housing for those who began to separate. Had they then began to increase the finance to those willing to support marriage there would have been a colossal saving in cash, something Conservatives worship! But this was not done, because they would not spend the money! Short term gain for long term failure. Since then the abundance of single parent families, loved by the middle classes who have the cash and ability to endure in such circumstances, has left the lower orders in disarray. While a middle class child learns around 1500 words by the time he is five, he may not get beyond 500 among the 'Chavs 'of this world. For the young dad who cannot cope with a child bride and a child often leaves her, and peer pressure all to often from both sides, indicates this is OK. The young mum is often helpless in rearing a child she is too young or too dumb to cope with. Another generation of the shiftless arises.

The Christian church has stood back, and sometimes encouraged, such freedoms. In the 70's it was claimed by many satanic forces were praying against marriage. We nodded and did nothing. Too wrapped up in our own affairs. (Is that the right word I ask?) Too late we realised that society was dividing, but by then we were also. Charismatic or evangelical? Women priests or not, then the homosexual debate caused the church to forget it's God, or just polarise the many differences. Satan much more able to destroy than the church to unite. Christians above all are at fault for our society, because (I) were too full of our self life, and did not submit to God nor pray for his world. Too late for self flagellation now however.

Being poor, and uneducated, does not lead to failure. The working class in the 19th century made an effort to learn and 'better themselves.' This continued into the 20th century and its effects are with us today. From Cowdenbeath alone, a mining district, two men made it to the House of Lords, one invented the 'Beta Blocker, many were forced by parents to learn a trade and avoid going down the pit, some travelling the world because of their skill, one at least became an international footballer, and all had a pride in themselves. It is not thus today! For too many they see no further than the dole handouts, a TV, drugs and short sex acts. the hope of a life worth having seems rare for some.

It need not be! There will always be many worthless people in this world, and will you avoid looking at me as I say that please! But if God sent his Son to redeem the whole lot, he must have thought it worth trying. How? The dreadful fact is that 'Love' is the answer. Not the Walton's type love,
'Goodnight Dad',
'Goodnight Son',
'Goodnight Mom'
Goodnight Son'
'Goodnight brother'
'WILL YOU SHUT UP AND GET TO SLEEP!!!!!'
No it is worse even than that. It takes effort, time and means 'loving' the person in front of you.
That is hard!
It means reaching out even to the ned and his mates near you and offering them a life they have not received from their forefathers. A life they will reject often, but one that some will accept. Even if they do not accept your God just finding them a life will be worth it.
Some try, like this group. http://www.youthblog.org/index.html

It costs however. How off putting.

Halloween

Halloween is one of those anomalies that the secular liberal west not only allows to exist but perpetuates simply for commercial gain. Originating in pagan belief in the days of long ago, amended by the Roman Catholic Pope Gregory moved 'All Saints Day' to November 1st to cover the superstitious rites with a church veneer, and continued as a kids event in some places until recently. I say until recently because in the last 15 -20 years the commercialisation of this event has exploded.

Growing up in Edinburgh in the 50's we saw Halloween as a time for 'Guising.' Dressing up and enjoying party games such as attempting to eat a treacle tart hanging from the ceiling, with your hands tied behind your back. Follow this with the other regular game, 'dooking' for apples from a basin of water. 'Guisers' would go from door to door performing acts at each one and getting a reward, I never got much and sad to say the act has remained unchanged since I had it translated from the original Greek! Time has past and what was once a bit of fun has become an industry! Shops abound with all sorts of costumes and paraphernalia. Pumpkins are seen everywhere reflecting the wealth now found in this country, in our day we used turnips, not good enough for the middle classes I fear! And pumpkins reflect the greater influence - America! The Halloween seen today is not the last vestige of a pagan past, now it is a reflection of US society. 'Trick or Treat' replaces 'guising' even in Scotland! Cards are sent to friends as daft as yourself, parties of kids in overpriced outfits abound, and the idea of 'witches' is given credence once more. While it reflects our wealth and the American influence it also reflects our stupidity.

In the early 60's Halloween was just fun, now it has an eerie edge to it. The acceptance of demonic influence is widespread, demonic like masks, pitchforks and the like are seen everywhere. Bats are supposed to be seen everywhere, and let's face it, we all know a few 'old bats', graves are opened and skeletons wander about, witches on broomsticks fly at midnight and ghosts and ghouls are seen everywhere - especially as the pubs close. What does this do? It encourages the world to see such a creature as the Devil as a joke, unreal and non existent. Christians can tell you otherwise. An unchurched nation has no problem with this, and to be honest most folk will not be influenced to a great measure by demonic interference, at least,no more than normal. But it does encourage folk to disbelieve in a Satanic being. He will be happy with that, and is most likely behind it all anyway. better to encourage folk to believe in a demon that does not exist than confront the one who does.

Should we get involved with such events? I don't think so. But no reason for Christian churches to have their own parties, with similar games, minus the witches, and an explanation of their beliefs aimed at those attending. parties are very biblical, feasts and rejoicing, happiness and fun are found in the bible. Rejoicing before YHWH is demanded in places! So have fun with him! And it doesn't have to cost a fortune on goods found in the recycling tomorrow!

‘Bible and Sword’

‘Bible and Sword’
by Barbara W. Tuchman.

Just finished reading this excellent study into the connections between the UK and Israel from the supposed presence of Joseph of Arimathea to the British Mandate between the wars. As she was writing in the early 1950s it is not surprising that she ends her study at that point, the state of Israel was too new for historical perspective then.

Tuchman takes us from Joseph through the many pilgrims who travelled to the ‘Holy Land.’ A journey which was long, dangerous, and fraught with difficulties. Following on come the Crusaders, fighting less from ‘faith’ and more for a desire to fight someone somewhere. While she describes the English ‘Lionheart’ Richard, who spent almost everyday of his rule in the middle East, as a great general of his time, she omits his murders. One of the first recorded actions he took was to slaughter the nearby villagers, who though Arabs, were in fact Christian. Still, never mind eh?

At the time the some began translating the bible into readable English others were developing trade with the middle east. Spices from far away India came through Muslim controlled Palestine and English merchants were not slow in seizing the opportunity for trade. Once however the reading of the bible became a staple in the land a new understanding of the Hebrew story left it’s mark upon the nation. This was to put the UK in the forefront of Jewish return to their God given homeland. In time there grew a belief among Evangelicals that the return of the Jews to Israel was necessary to hasten the second coming of Jesus. To this end there grew up a desire to encourage this, Shaftesbury being the leading light here. By the end of the 19^th Century Imperial policy also became involved. The need to keep the Russians away from the India route, meant Britain was determined to control the fading Ottoman Empire. Faith and political expediency left Britain responsible for the return of the Jews.

Agreements made in war are often murky and based on temporary expediency, and soon all sides decided to misinterpret what did not suit them. The Arabs under Faisal agreed with the Jews arrival, then denied this. The Jews still came. Problems which arose in the 1920’s reappeared in the 50’s, and again in the days of the Bush dynasty, although this book, published in 1956, cannot cover this. By 1948 the UK pulled out and gladly left them to get on with it.

Tuchman, an American Jew is a well respected historian. Her books are long but remarkably easy to read. A great deal of study has gone into this book, and allowing for an occasional Hebrew bias, and her inability to understand that ‘England’ is NOT ‘Britain,’ something Englishmen do not understand either it seems, this book gives a wonderful tale of the country’s connection with the ‘Holy Land.’ For faith and adventurous reasons Britons men have travelled, suffered and died there. Memorials to our troops still stand there, pilgrims and merchants still travel regularly, and the UK government regards Israel as a friend. Christians also regard her as the land God gave to her people, but, rightly, all to often question her treatment of the Palestinians, while sharing their appreciation of ‘terrorism.’

But the underlying message for me is the way God works out his purposes. If he has decided to bring his people back to their land, who would have thought that it would require politicians of dubious repute, earnest evangelicals and, lastly, zealous Zionists. Zionists who fought just as hard against Jewish opposition as any other! Who would have chosen these people for this task. God works out his purposes in the world around us, and all too often we do not see this. In our own lives and in the world as a whole he continues to work, while we waste time in speculation and biblical arguments over the interpretation of ‘prophecy.’ Jesus would have us speculate less, and just live for him more. He will return at the appointed time, we must just live today and concentrate on our job, he can take care of the rest.

Writing Blogs

Yesterday, while busily going about my day, I had a wonderful blog post going through my mind. Now at this moment I cannot remember what I was doing at the time, but there again I cannot remember what I intended to write! At the time I thought it excellent. It was informative, relevant, humorous and I thought worth posting. I got the first couple of paragraphs into my mind when something distracted me, I think I may have been hiding from the rent collector, anyway I lost it! try as I may, like a dream that leaves an imprint in your mind when you awake, but disappears forever deep into the gray matter, it has gone.

I wonder if it concerned my 94 year old mother? She has developed a back problem and the pills the doctor gave her make her unwell anyway, as is often the case. Was I going to bore you with her details, how she is doing well for her age, until now? Does she know Jesus, and does the church she has attended since 1936 really evangelical. You know the type, they want God but water things down a bit, doubting miracles but seeking Jesus anyway. Was it about the guilt I feel being 400 miles away and having no money to visit? Could it be about the guilt I feel when speaking to her? Her conversation is now limited to her world, which gets smaller all the time. And there is no connection to mine, especially as she informs me of the goings on amongst people I have never met, nor heard of nor am interested in! Who are they, and why do I care of they are of to Italy with their boyfriend and have no job?

I don't know if that was interesting enough to waste a few minutes of your life reading, so don't do it! What? oh.... Ah well, Maybe I was going to fill a post about rain? Yesterday it rained all day, almost. For reasons I fail to understand folk in this island act as if this was either unusual or criminal. Either way they can talk about it for days! Mind you, I live in the driest county in England, well so they said when I got here. They also claimed it was flat! Anyone who has cycled around this town delivering post will be very quick to indicate the mistake in that statement! The rain busily knocked the leaves of the trees making the streets greasy and the street cleaners life murder. However, late in the day the sun decided to show itself and as I walked across the park I saw the glorious site it presented. To my right the sun brought out the colours of the rusting leaves. A golden glow came from the trees, a more heartwarming glorious site than any man could produce, and it was all free! Such a simple pleasure, watching the remaining green leaves protruding among a vast array of yellow, rust coloured and golden leaves. A wall of splendour that had been hidden all day behind a gray mist. That is worth posting about!

Is it age? I enjoy watching the autumn colours and feeding the squirrels in the park as much as I enjoy watching the football team winning or listening to good music. Simple pleasures are longer lasting. Mind you, so has this post, and I have had nothing to say........

H.V.Morton 'In the Steps of St Paul'

I have just finished reading through a tattered ancient copy of this book. I first read it many years ago and found it gave a very good understanding of the background in which Paul moved. Reading it again I found that had not changed. Morton travelled through the Mediterranean in 1936 and describes the contemporary world at the same time as the world long gone. I was left wondering if the changes from 1936 to 2007 were greater than those over the preceding two thousand years.

He begins his travel in Jerusalem and journeys through Syria (Antioch), Ataturk's Turkey (Tarsus), and visits what was left of Lystra and Derbe while staying at Konya (Iconium). His time at Ephesus left me wishing I could up sticks and go there now. How important this city once was, what wealth, what influence both secular and religious, now a pile of stones! Morton also continues as well as he can to the Greek towns (Phillipi, Corinth and Athens) where Paul once struggled and suffered, ending his journey in Rome. On each occasion the writing gives a good indication of the towns as they once were, Pauls possible life and work, and, f or me, left a desire to visit at once

H. V. Morton was once famous for his travel books, many are still available, and his writing style is easy on the eye. This makes the books easy to read as well as informative. I was left with a new understanding of the daily life Paul endured. We think of him as a tough man who suffered so much for his God, but he also had times of comparative wealth and hard labour. While working to avoid living of his converts he shows us his integrity his concern for the church and each individual member is seen in his concerned letters. At all times he faces opposition from one section or another. Lessons for all there today. I found how practical Paul was. No superstitious saint he, while he worked miracles by the power of God he also made his own plans and did not expect Jesus to lead him by the hand in things he had to do himself. His was a realistic faith in a practical God. All to often I will not act until I 'feel' it right. This is more 'daft' than 'Spiritual.' Paul, while led by the Spirit shows no 'daft' approach.

These books are n one sense out of date, however Morton gives us insights into the NT that we often miss. This i the type of book I recommend to folk as it is easy and informative. Too many Christian books are either too heavy or to 'Spiritual' to be much use.

Ephesus

I was looking at a photograph of Ephesus taken in 1937 this afternoon. The difference from the, almost sepia coloured, picture and today's brightly coloured photos was striking and I don't mean the colour. The visitor to this ancient city finds a tourist experience in full flow. Buildings have been excavated, signs placed to describe the sights, and I expect, many tourist guides and souvenirs. In 1937 however the town was deserted!
http://www.turkeyinphotos.com/ephesus.htm

Sitting high above the ruins the photographer snaps the city below. Nothing moves. Pillars rise from the overgrowth of bushes and the occasional tree. The main street runs in a straight line towards the disused harbour. Beyond lies the canal leading to the sea, now silted and disused. To the right occasional ruins rise, to the first floor in some places, stark and lonely. The outline of others can be discerned in the fields around.

How strange I thought, that for centuries this large town has lain here undisturbed, lonely and unloved by those who have passed through. In times past thousands came here drawn by the temple of Artemis. The Theatre alone held nearly 25,000! Alexander the silversmith opposed the Christians under Paul because their God was hindering sales of the objects produced for Diana's followers. As sales fell their opposition reached dangerous levels and this very theatre saw a near riot which caused Paul to move on to revisit Macedonia. In the thirties it stood silent , empty, an overgrown ruin, unloved and uncared for. What history these stones cold tell!

The apostle John ended his life here it is supposed, his tomb was believed to be there in the later centuries. This busy bustling town which had two great men from the early church living and working there, now lay deserted. It seemed to me to be such a waste. Many stones have been removed to the nearby village and reused in the houses there. The sun shone and the wind blew, rain would hammer down at times, and goats and sheep would outnumber the people, for centuries! How lonely and empty the scene was in 1937.

What I believe

What I believe and what I live are not necessarily the same thing. I believe in Jesus Christ, I know he has spoken to me and wants me to be surrendered fully to him. I believe he loves me and died for me, I believe all this in my head, usually. However, when I live, I just scrape through the day! Why? Because what I believe is hidden behind the things that I face daily. I forget Jesus promises, I ignore his love, I live for my self, I …note the use of the word, ‘I,’. I live for myself, not God. Those who love the Lord, obey him, they do wonderful things, because he works through them. This I believe, and forget daily. I look at the problem, not the solution. I expect the world to change to suit me, and this does not happen for any of us. I do not ‘believe’ and expect Jesus to work in all situations – but in his time!

So, what to do? Believe my beliefs. If Jesus is God, if Jesus died for me, if Jesus is totally committed to me I ought to be rejoicing! However, in truth I am sitting worried. Worried about my job, my health, my life….. Therefore, I must now believe that if God has done this for me, I can stand with him. I must remember his many answers to prayer, his call through others, his presence on many occasions. I can trust him and believe him, even if I do not see him, not in ‘blind faith,’ but in the fact of his interference in my life.

My GOD LOVES ME! He cares, and he leads. Can I remember this through the daily grind? Can it last the day, even the hour? I will soon find out.

Ten Years Ago

10 years ago
I was in a similar position to that which faces me today. Unemployed, concerned about the knee, too few job opportunities, and no skills to offer bar humping things about. Some things don't change. Some things were different however. Christine had around this time given me money to buy a bike. This enabled me to waddle outside of town and gave me a new lease of life. I discovered the old railway to Rayne and started often to wander up that way, and it is up by the way! At the far end I would come round via Pods Lane and stop off at the farm gate half way down to stare over the fields towards the west and wonder what am I doing, and what is God going to do? I got no answer. But I was sort of healthy anyway.
Spiritually I filled the time by holding back from God as always. Wondering why I could not just let him in. I tried the Baptist church on evening and made a fool of myself in conversing with the pastor. I never went back. The message had said give yourself to God and I just sat there... I visited the local school, now demolished although that was nothing to do with us 'bringing the house down,' where a breakaway church met. They were having a children's day, this was unfortunate and the last time I went there. Not sure if they existed long after that. I think I tried the Elim also at that time. But nowhere left me feeling wanted.
However I at least had a sofa, from Argos, although the delivery man was not keen to bring it up stairs. One helped the other grumpily dumped the mattress on the level. It has to be said it was, and is, heavy. I think this was also the year I obtained my first, much wanted, Personal Computer! I bought this from a company that soon went bust, I had to return it once, but they made a pigs ear of it, and later I was to suffer the blue screen of death, a few days after they disappeared from view. However, now I can't live without a PC! How did we manage before they were produced? Ten years ago I knew little about the goings on at Tynecastle. Info was limited to what little English television allowed, and the occasional reference or Radio 5 or the world service. How times change! Now, because of the internet and the web in general I am well informed and up to date with the action. I also see the games via the PC! Then I was 46, almost healthy, just running out of money, hence Christine's loan, although she charged 25% interest! I was far too strict in many ways, had not discovered how to be human, was too much living in 'law.' Soon that was to be knocked out of me.
5 years ago
I was unemployed! I had just walked out of Rosetti after the treatment I received there. I was 'in between jobs' as they say. The landlord installed central heating to all our delights, although the cowboy filled my room with brick dust, failed to install the other flats heating satisfactorily, and was generally a pest. However, Nina left at this time. I was broken hearted, my life had come to an end! She had found another, and was off to France. I had put everything into her, although God had not wanted this, and I had given myself over to her. She had not done the same to me. We knew it would end, and it could not work. But she is the only woman I have proposed to. She changed my attitudes. I lost the primness, and loosened up. I also thought I had lost God for good (again). Life was hard, afraid God had gone, Nina had gone, and money nonexistent. Was this the time I dried driving, and failed? It was sometime in the past I can't remember when. Christine my sister was sick around this time. She was to die in 2005. How I miss her, and even her grumbling! Not a good time.
1 year ago
I was about to leave work. I had been forced to give up the enjoyable, but tiring, Postman's job. I had been happy there, but was frequently suffering anger problems. My knees hurt, I was afflicted by something. laziness perhaps, or just tired of work, and was wasting money. I liked the folks, well, most of them, and was accepted by most, sort off. Since then no work has been forthcoming. My knees have limited the work I can do, the doctor informing me arthritis set in. However Jesus in his mercy has sent his Spirit to call me by this time. One worry disappeared. As time went by I realised more and more of his love by reading the Old Testament. I want him!
1month ago
I was unemployed. Stupidity, know nothingness, and lack of skill has been a problem. But while ten years ago I wanted to work, now I am happy not to. is this laziness, age, or the overweight and reaction to the last job? The thought of the same type of routine, while that's the way it is, is not heartwarming. I am still not physically happy. Far too many bugs and virus have affected me this past year. I don't want a temp job s the ones on offer are to physical, and no one will give me a sit down job as I'm dumb. I must work soon, not just for money, it is OK to take the dole when you need it, but this week I feel a bit healthier and need to get back to work like everyone else. But I am not cheered by the prospect of more dire work.
1 week ago
I can't remember. My memory fails me all to often these days, and I suspect that all I would have done is copy today. Visit the market, fail to win the lottery, and bed early as there was nothing else to do. I also get tired by nine, and rise around 5.30!
1 day ago
I am closer to God this week. I am looking for answers and listening for his response. This is what I live for! But indoors, when all goes well I believe. What do I do when real life interrupts? Why this! Yesterday I spoke to myself of Gods love and was soon was tested by being scared by an opponent. It has taken 24 hours to find an answer. And that is one that is difficult to put into practise. Loving others they way Jesus did this is far from easy! But I will.
1 hour ago
I was writing this!

Prayer

Prayer changes things. Spending time talking to the living God has an effect on my life. I sometimes wonder why I don't do it more often. I suppose one reason is that I might be expected to get up and change something myself. Indeed, I might have to change myself! Dearie me, I don't mind indicating to others how they must change, I'm not so keen on it myself mind!

I sat down to offer up feeble prayers a few minutes ago, and into my mind came an event from over twenty five years ago. A small group meeting and one or two things were said to me that night. So I pondered on this, and wondered how I had messed up so badly after all he has said and done for me. Well, I know why. I would not let myself go and trust him. Yet here he is once again standing by me. Psalm 136 repeats 'His love endures forever.' I just realised that he has had to 'endure' with his love, he has not enjoyed it. Yet I remain self serving and still withhold myself. If I was someone else I would condemn me so much.

Come Jesus, help me let go of my miserable self, and find life!

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday. What does this mean to you?
Today it means nothing to be frank. I find myself no 56 years of age. 56 years, what have I done with this time? Nothing. What can I find in all that time worth keeping or talking about? Little. There have been good moments, and good people. Good family and good friends. But what have I actually done? What accomplishment can I take to the grave? Nothing! No woman ever wanted to keep this useless bundle of fat. There was only ever one I really wanted to keep anyway, and she left. I am useless at handyman jobs, and find I have been incompetent at most jobs I have worked at. I don't drive, do not understand how to make money, know nothing useful in the complex society in which I dwell. I don't even drive, and am not sure I want to. I have used and abused friends all my life. I treat folks badly. I am loud and obnoxious in most folks view, weak and stupid in my own. Working with folks I find I rub them up the wrong way, either with my 'humour and wit' or annoyance at their lack of desire to share the workload and play fair. Often the fallout comes just because I am a worm. I find myself complaining and girning at most aspects of the world today. The television leaves me struggling to find a programme worth watching, and even then I find too many faults. I am out of step with the worlds ways (just what is a 'blackberry anyway?), and find the fashion of the day worthless in nearly every aspect.

So what is worth it about this life then? I would say God, except I fail even with him. He has called me to come to him for thirty years and still I draw back. I get up to the cross and try to go over, but know I hang back. Why? He has done wonders for me. My broken leg should have hurt, I felt nothing, he has always provided and always cared. Prayer has been answered and the greatest moments of my life have been touching him. Yet I don't love him as others do. Do I love him, or just like him when I feel the need. So much of my life is based on me. Yet there is nothing but Jesus, I know that. Here I am, fifty six, a useless lump, even God cannot get me working properly. Oh yes I forgot, I have no job, and little prospect of one. The band leg doesn't help. if it wasn't for that I would still have one. I notice only two cards have flooded through the door. There may be another one in the post, maybe. Even the family forget, who can blame them. I do nothing for them. Fifty six today. I've never been so happy! I have wasted my life, and now head for old age with little chance, or ability to do anything about it.

I was quite happy before I started to write this................