The first Sunday in Advent. There are many things happening in the next few weeks that will take my eyes off Christmas, and I’m not sure I really mind that, after all life changing things are about to occur.  I am, however concerned that I don’t take my eyes off the reality of what happened when Jesus walked into the world, when God stepped down, came close and entered the broken mess of this world. I know that it is only the reality of Immanuel that will bring meaning and joy to the next three weeks and beyond. Only the reality of Immanuel will help me and Kevin make incredible promises to each other, only the reality of Immanuel will enable us to keep those promises as we walk home together, only the reality of Immanuel will help us as we break those promises and deal with forgiving each other and moving forward.

I do not want to forget those things as I walk around the house I’ve dwelt in for so long now, as I treasure experiences I’ve had here, fondly look at the view one more time and quietly head out the door into an unknown world. We have an Immanuel who is with us all the way, who has come to shine light into the darkness and the darkness, frankly, just doesn’t know what to do with it.

Read some of Luke, Zechariah explaining that his son, John the Baptist has a preparation job to do:

⁷⁶And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;
for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him,
⁷⁷to give his people the knowledge of salvation
through the forgiveness of their sins,
⁷⁸because of the tender mercy of our God,
by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
⁷⁹to shine on those living in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the path of peace.”

Peace. Whatever December holds for us, we have a God who came close, who is With Us. Immanuel.

“Oh God, the Eternal All, help me know that

all things are shadow, but thou art substance,

all things are quicksands, but thou art mountain,

all things are shifting, but thou art anchor,

all things are ignorance, but thou art wisdom.”

(From the Valley of Vision.)

I know the posts about waiting don’t usually start until advent but it seems somewhat appropriate to begin now.  My excellent brother described engagement to me as being an image of the Christian life, living in the now, waiting for the not yet. Living in preparation for the day and life that is to come.  The problem is, I’m not that great at waiting. Or living well now whilst the future comes steadily closer.  Thankfully mine and Kevin’s engagement only lasts 4 months, two of which have passed already. The 19th December still seems far in the future though, and I’m in danger of wishing away my favourite time of year by just thinking about that future all the time.

The thing is: I love autumn,  I love leaves that look like this:

 

I love the night when the clocks go back, I love crisp autumn days, I love the smell of woodsmoke in the air on bonfire day, I love curling up on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea, I love November fog, I love getting home from work in the dark and putting pretty lights on, I love fairy lights, the build up to Christmas and the joy of advent reminding me of the reality that our God stepped into the world to be our Immanuel.  I don’t want to wish all that away whilst waiting for the best day of the year. I ache for that day in a deep way and we are preparing for it, practically and mentally and in everyother possible way. It is shaping our lives here. But as it does so, as it shapes how we spend our days there is deep tension as we struggle to live in the present.  We still have to go to work, we have to love each other and the people around us, we have to pay attention to the today in front of us.

Tension is the best word I can think of to describe that way of living, tension between all that Today has and the Tomorrow that is to come. Life is shaped and informed by what is to come, and yet what is to come doeesn’t take us out of Today.  It should help us live Today well.  Which I think is where the analogy ends and points to the reality of what we’re talking about.  The hope of new creation enables us to care for each other now, enables us to have perspective on our days, weeks and months, it helps us live deeply well Today.  The hope of our wedding is a different kind of hope, the preparations will soon be over, we will soon be married and as we do that we will still be living lives that are informed by our next wedding.  We’ll experience changes in our life that will be brilliant, weird, odd, strange, genius, exciting and more but we will have not arrived.  There is a home to be journeyed to still.  We will journey in a different way to before, but our hope is still in something else, something other than our marriage, someone outside ourselves.

The Final Wedding day is the day that we long for, the day when our Maker reforms and remoulds his world. When Jesus comes back to judge, when we get  to finally be in a world with no pain, hurt, crying or distress.  When we will be with our God in perfect relationship, knowing our Saviour and being known. We will be his people and he will be our God.  Whilst gazing on that Hope our days shift and change.  We still appreciate the Now, in the Now we are called to live deep lives of joy and contentment, but we live knowing we have a better city to come.  We are at ease with being strangers and aliens here because we know our home is somewhere else.  We enjoy the wonders of this world knowing they are mere shadows and we can hold loosely to them because our ultimate satisfaction is in being known by and knowing our Maker.  That is our ultimate hope. That is the big fat truth that I long to transform my Today.

In family time together (sometimes called Gospel Community but that might be a bit grand) we like to sit and read the Bible and have our lives transformed by the Living God as He speaks to us (‘like’ might be a bit of an understatement). We’ve been chewing on Galatians recently and got to the classic list of sarcastic questions Paul asks them. Really, check them out. We chatted lots about God and his crazy grace and real love for us. Musing on all of that I wondered whether we really experience that in our lives. Do I really act as someone who is loved by the Maker of the universe? Do I walk around with joy because Someone knows all I’ve ever done and yet chooses to pour out love on me, doesn’t expect anything from me before he does that and declares that I am His dearly loved daughter.

A good question, because most of the time I act as if God is merely vaguely disappointed in me, not even angry, just a kind of low disappointed murmur. The Bible never really ascribes those kind of emotions to God. He’s passionate, either a spurned lover burning with righteous jealousy or a deep thrilling lover pouring out new and surprising gifts on his children.  Vaguely disappointed just doesn’t even cut it. When I think He is vaguely disappointed there is no incentive to respond to him. When I consider that I have rejected the best lover in the world I am broken and hurt and cut the core. When I think I’ve vaguely disappointed someone I shrug my shoulders and go to bed in morose despair that I might try harder tomorrow. When I realise I am unconditionally loved and realise that my deepest sin can’t get me out of that I grin like an idiot and smile my way to bed.  I can try and walk His ways knowing my success or failure never take me outside of his love.

And that, my friends might just be a little bit of what this Grace thing is all about. Go crazy. Smile like a idiot. The Maker of the world LOVES doing good to you and rejoices in loving you. Small woop anyone?

Today the sky is doing this:

So I did this: Blue Skies, enjoy.

Bruce Willis: air brushed Bruce or Bruce with no hair and beard? A tricky question. Which view of reality do we prefer? Bruce with no hair and a beard apparently. Nothing much is really added to the ‘ooo do we want reality or escape from reality?’ genre.

A couple of weeks ago our fridge broke, being enslaved to the genius system of a letting agency who can only pass messages on to the Landlord, who appears to be out of the country for most of his life, we still haven’t got our fridge fixed. Leaving aside the mildly annoying state of not being able to store food for more than one day there is the more important realisation that I need to get milk every day. I need my evening cups of tea and my morning cup of tea. No longer do I live with the ease of opening the fridge and there being my milk, my pathway to joy. (ahem).

Recently I’ve become obsessed with one day at a time living. Remembering that today is the day I am called to remember my Maker. Today is the day to encourage the people around me to remember we are creatures in the hands of a very good Creator. Today is the day I live in. I worry and I look forward to and I ache for the future (especially the one beyond the 19th December ) but in all of that I am only here Today. Weirdly buying the milk each day reminds me of that. I can’t store it up, I can’t plan to use it the next day, it will have gone off. Today I need to buy it and use it. Today is the day to buy milk, we shall drink tea and be glad in it. (or some similar phrase… alsoseeexodusandmannaforeactualdependanceongodforeverythingliving)

Driving into Brighton, sky awash with light from the sun disappearing over the horizon. Walking through the lanes, meandering around the lit up Pavillion, crescent moon framed through elegant trees. Conversation, the dance of the unknown, skimming through the surface wondering which depths are allowed to be touched. The band, loud bright colour, faces that love this vibrant joy. Horns, drum beat and dropped in bass making my feet and body move. Room full of people dancing, those that care too much urgently glancing around to see if they are doing it right, those that don’t care at all flailing around in the breeze of noise. Smiles, nods, familar grins, squeezes on shoulders to make sure everyone is having  a good time.

Sunny morning cycling along the seafront, sparkling waters, blue blue skies and the chill in the air of the dying summer and rising autumn. 

Coffee shop, wooden tables, layered coffee: brown to beige to white foam.  Sunshine spilling through the windows. Realising I can talk, interact, ask questions and more. Smiling ruefully at all the random thoughts swirling around my head. Sensing the fragility of love in this world. Bittersweet sense of failure and the hope of redemption all at once.

My new favourite cafe

Independent, lovely and great coffee. Oh to be a staff worker again and I could frequent it all day long.

Most enjoyed blog of the week

Some vindication for the English obsession with talking about the weather

Must buy now cd of the week. (oops.)

Welcome, have a seat.

To explain or not to explain?

Look around the room for a moment, breathe, maybe put the kettle on.

OK. There is little room for explanation.  A few lifetimes ago, or possibly just last week I wrote a blog. It was good while it lasted but times have changed. I no longer live in Hove for a start, and that’s a pretty good reason for ones blog not to be called “hoveactually”.  There are few people who read my blog anymore, and many of the people I enjoyed blogging around don’t do this thing anymore, the age of the old blog is pretty much dead. It was fun while it lasted, we had a blast back in the day (oo about 3 years ago) but times have moved on.

So why? A good enough question, another good question being: “what the heck are you doing here when there are other things to be doing, sunshine to be enjoyed, a wedding to plan, people to love and food to be eaten?”…

Well, fundamentally I like thinking and I like writing. When I wibble on my computer with no-one to see I become lazy and can’t be bothered to even think about writing properly, if I think one person might stumble across this page late at night and actually want to understand a little of the content I try harder.

I aim to write one thing a week. Be it about cake, tea, life, a list, hope, work, what to do in your lunch hour when there is no-one else in the office or some such other thing. To help me write. To give me a discipline. To help me have fun. To help me reflect the wonder of living in this world. To help me unwind. A myriad of reasons. Yes it’s pretty much about me.  But in the it being all about me you might almost find out that it’s actually about Someone Else as all of me reflects a tiny fraction of the One who made me.  You are welcome to sit with me, comment on, agree or disagree with anything here.  You’ll find I love tea, beauty, Jesus, people, deep chats, fire places, wine, pretty notebooks, big fat waves, mountains, music and a myriad of other things.

It’s time for something new. Everything has changed and yet, you’ll probably find that many things have really stayed pretty much the same.