My earlier delight at having my internet connection restored was short lived, as my elderly and increasingly incontinent dog decided to water the new phone socket, and let's just say that my broadband connection has been intermittent at best since then. Oh the joys!
Another thing that has proved short lived is my relief at things settling down finally and getting the chance to get into some kind of routine. One of the problems of being involved in a local church while working for a Christian organisation is that the lines between work life and personal life often become blurred and it becomes difficult to switch off. When involved in mission and evangelism on a regional or national level, and with a church that is pioneering in its missional approach, there are a lot of areas of overlap and it is difficult to switch off and just chill out. God gave us one day in seven to rest, and I have found myself badly in need of it and unable to realise it.
I managed to get my first proper break in about 3 years with my husband last week. We spent the time in the New Forest, but even that was interrupted with calls about work and church matters on several occasions. Not the least of our concerns was that we would need to close the shop unit that the church uses as its centre and bookshop, as we still don't have sufficient volunteers to keep it open when Alan is away. It's a real concern, as so much of what we do is dependent on forming and developing relationships with those who come in, and we don't want people to come, find the place shut up a couple of times, and lose interest in coming back. Nevertheless, it was a welcome holiday, and lovely not to have to set the alarm in the morning.
We returned at 1:45 am on Sunday morning, and I was speaking at our worship service at 10:30 am. At 8am we discovered that the mains lead for my hard drive had gone missing, and so I had to get ready and start from scratch putting something together for the service. It came together in time - I've been blessed with a good memory, and could recall most of what I'd prepared - but felt like yet again I was chasing my tail, playing catch-up all the time, never ahead of the game. Oh how I long for the days when at least there was the illusion of being organised and under control.
So what is all this about apart from a need to get it off my chest. I think my frustration is once again linked to my need for security - to have all the 'i's dotted and the 't's crossed before committing myself to anything - even when I know I have the ability to just get on with it. Perhaps I need to learn to think less and act more. Perhaps I've just realised how futile it is to long for the finish line, when in my heart of hearts I know that God wants me to keep moving forward as long as I have breath. Perhaps if I took the chance to rest one day each week, as God in his wisdom ordained, then I would have the energy to deal with the demands of the rest of the week.
