Our Moment

I am sometimes prone to looking at the watch and imagining how that meal or party is going. 'Just nudging 7pm, the guests will be arriving. Hugs shared and pleasantries exchanged.' At other times, my scrolling thumb halts at the picture or tweet or status that informs the world of a meeting or gig or trip.

Oh to be there and in those moments, rather than the more routine and uneventful nature of my own moment. There is where the action is, not here.

Or is it?

Don't mistake me, it is a perfectly good and right thing to think on and celebrate what others are doing. But we do ourselves a disservice when we think on it too much or with the wrong perspective, that we fail to realise that God values our moment just as much as the moment we are longing to be in, however mundane or alone our moment seems.

God is in the heart of our moment. 

Above the clouds in a plane. In a room with only boredom for company. In the office with a to-do list as endless as a Twitter feed. God is there. Looking elsewhere may cause us to miss out on its treasure.

In Line At The Coffee House

Standing in line, waiting to be served, my eyes caught sight of the barista seeking to hand the receipt to his distracted customer. He ventured for her attention with both his hand and voice, but to no avail; the customer was in another world. I smiled at him, wanting to convey to him that we've all been there and his offer was at least noticed by someone. Ironically enough, the barista did not see my smile; my attempt to communicate something of life's light-heartedness futile, much like his own efforts. Smiling again - this time at myself! - I wondered if there was an echo here of how Jesus sometimes looks on those following in his footsteps. We make an attempt at something, perhaps something we have worked really hard for, but it falls on deaf ears and no one notices. It can be deflating. But Jesus always notices. Maybe Jesus takes our seemingly fruitless efforts and does something good yet hidden. Or perhaps Jesus simply stands behind us with a smile that says that our endeavours meant so much to him. What a thought.

Then the King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me' - Matthew 25:40

Raining In Minneapolis

In May, I spent two weeks with friends just outside Minneapolis. On one day, with my hosts at work, I headed to Downtown Minneapolis for an exploration. The trouble was, it was raining. Constantly. Fortunately, though, the city has these really handy skywalks which connect together the different buildings, constructed to minimise the amount of time people have to go outside during the extreme weather seasons Minneapolis often experiences.

Upon first hearing of these skywalks, I didn’t quite imagine just how many there would actually be. There are LOADS. Connecting together sixty-nine blocks, you could quite easily get from one end of downtown to the other without having to venture outside. Rather helpfully, the floors you have to walk through to get to the skylines are also full of coffee shops, restaurants and shops, one or two of which I quickly acquainted myself with.

For a tourist not keen on getting wet but keen on seeing a bit of the city, the skyway system was a lifesaver. Sure, I didn’t quite have the experience that comes with being outside, but the day was a good one.

I took the above picture from inside one of the skywalks. I had seen many similar photos with raindrops in focus, so here is me following a well-trodden path. Beyond taking the photo, I didn’t think too much on it. When I got home, and as I began editing some of the photos I took whilst away, this snap stood out to me. I didn’t really know why. Perhaps I just liked it (good enough reason, really). But as I looked at it more I did realise something, in respect of both photograpy and life:

Though rain may force us inside, it need not stop us from taking a good photo.

Life sometimes causes us to withdraw. We really want to go outside, but something is stopping us from doing so. It is raining. In staying inside, the temptation is to feel as though we are missing out on the sights. And yet, being inside can offer a different perspective, or give space and opportunity for other things not possible (or at least less likely) if we were outside.

In short, I like to think there is always a good photograph waiting to be taken.

I got a print of the above photo. It now sits on my desk. I was first annoyed when it was raining in Minneapolis, and yet only by it raining could I take this photo. It now serves as a permanent reminder that when it feels like life is raining down and all I can do is stay inside, that is OK. The view will be different and the experience may take some getting used to, but there remains the potential for a good day.

And on that wet day in May walking through countless skywalks, I had a good day.

This thought has been really helpful for me. Having taken voluntary redundancy in April, I have certainly felt the rain and the need to withdraw. I am not too sure what to do next, friends and family are often unavailable, and money needs to be stewarded well. Whilst I have not turned into a hermit, this has inevitably led to me staying inside more.

It has, at times, been frustrating but God is showing me not all the best pictures are taken outside; sometimes they are best taken inside with the rain bashing against the window.

In fact, in writing this post I realise this photo is the only one from my trip on my desk. I like that. The day which threatened to be a wash-out led to this snap being one of a select few that I treasure most from my whole trip. I am beginning to see how something similar can often happen to our own moments, days and seasons, which threaten to be a wash-out.

In the months since I finished work, the one or two photos I have taken so far from the confines of home – from realising again my identity is not based in what I do but who I am as a child of God, to the charm of living life more simply – have been so valuable to capture.

They are photographs I hope will always have a place on my desk.

If the rain is falling on you, causing you to withdraw and stay inside more than you would like to, my hope and prayer for you is that you will find the photo waiting to be taken – a photo which one day may sit on your desk or mantlepiece as a reminder of something special happening.

Black Hat Guy

A few weeks ago, family were visiting from Holland and we decided to take them to Bourton-on-the-Water. On arrival, we emptied the car of all we needed, before a few of our travelling party headed for a quick toilet stop. Whilst waiting at the car, one contingent nearby - who must have come from separate locations, since hugs and pleasantries were aplenty upon vacation of two cars - grabbed my attention.

Amongst this small crowd was one chap who in particular caught my eye. There is a simple explanation for this: I really liked what he was wearing. With a black hat excellently complementing his plain-grey jumper, this chap had some style.

Safe to say, I had clothing envy.

We soon departed our separate ways. A couple of hours later, whilst having a packed lunch beside the river, I overheard a snippet of conversation that piqued my interest: 'I like to write and I recently got a new fountain pen to write on cards'. Given my own love of writing, it is little wonder my ears were burning! I quickly turned my head to see who lay at the source of these words.

Lo and behold, it was black hat guy!

This discovery really surprised me, likely because I could not get past what he was wearing. It never really entered my mind to consider what he did and what stories he would have to tell. I just wanted his black hat.

The episode was a welcome nudge for me. I walk past people in the street, sit with others older and younger in a waiting room for something or someone, casually brush aside the fellow commuter on the train, give my order to the waiter and receive my order from the waiter - and they can all blur into one, with interaction and thought limited to how their life impacts my own life. Like whether or not their black hat would suit me.

This is, of course, understandable given the demands of life, the presence of company and, well, the sheer number of people we walk by, walk past, look at, say an Excuse me or a Thank you to.

But then I wonder what would happen if, where possible, I made a little more room to adjust the lens through which I often view the passing world?

Halt the bubbling of road rage at the driver who hasn't really committed the unforgiveable sin. Turn my busy mind to the small crowd around me as I ride the Circle Line. Watch for a moment that man sitting on the green grass eating a pasty whilst reading a book which takes his mind somewhere else for twenty minutes.

In doing so, I see that behind that often indistingishable blur lays tales of sadness and regret, pain and hurt, frustration and longing, happiness and joy, success and achievement, adventure and wandering, learnings and breakthrough, gift and skill.

At that, my mind no longer sees the blur of many but the focus of one.

And no longer do I simply want their black hat. Instead I wonder what stories they would have to tell.

When we see people we don't know, we are oftentimes free from the judgement, knowledge and bias that so often accompany our own relationships, and this I always think can give us a bigger capacity for our imaginations to dance - much like that game you play with a friend at the airport or in the pub when you attempt to write the script of those who walk past or sit nearby.

I want to do that a little bit more.

To intentionally let my mind dance more for others.

To let my ever-wandering eyes lock into the lives of one or two others.

To think well of them.

To pray that the good and the beautiful and the lovely will bud. God, bless them.A cliché, perhaps. A prayer, it can be. God, so richly bless them!

To give a smile.

To speak a compliment. My friend, you have some style going with that black hat!

To offer a helping hand.

To perhaps even ask how good that book is or what it is they are studying or the name of their dog.

I really hope that we can all leave room in our hearts for some of the black hat guys out there. It helps take our minds off ourselves and once again to the deep wells that lay within us all. Each one of us so fearfully and wonderfully made by the God who loves all so much and wants all to know Him. Our momentary dreaming may not shake the world, but it may be another promplead to a smile, a conversation, comment, a relationship, a gift, a prayer that will do something good for someone special.

'My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together' - Desmond Tutu

In the Everyday

“And, if you’re a coffee lover, there’s a place you must go to – it is called “CORALLO” and it is located at Principe Real – the very best coffee in town can be found there!! :o)”

This was the message I received from the Airbnb host I had just booked to stay with in Lisbon last summer. I had mentioned my affection for coffee and she swooped in with a suggestion that I duly took her up on when I arrived a few weeks later. Not only was the coffee exquisite, it also came with a small slab of chocolate of my choice. An excellent combination. And if that wasn’t enough, all it cost me was €1.

€1!

The fun did not end there, either. The coffee house was located near a quiet park where locals and tourists alike lingered contentedly. Some painted or read or sat, others walked or talked or worked. I happily joined them for a while. I then took to the nearby steep, cobbled streets which brought me to another park, this one much smaller, which was surrounded by tall, colourful houses and a cluster of restaurants. There I grabbed lunch. It was all such a pleasant, nourishing morning as new sights and smells and happenings greeted me – and my camera! – at almost every turn.

And all of this begun with a suggestion, a passing comment from someone I hardly knew.

It caused me reflect on how our routine interaction and engagement with others sometimes – both online and offline – has a tendency to surprise us by what they prompt and inspire. A friend uses Twitter or Facebook to beam about a book they are reading. We happen to come across the book in a bookstore and, recalling our friend’s ringing recommendation, buy it. We later open the book’s pages and find it difficult to put down. The content or style of a picture on your Instagram feed unleashes a wave of creativity into one of your followers. Someone shares with you in conversation an answer to prayer that profoundly resonates with you.

And isn’t it lovely when someone unexpectedly says to you how helpful something you said in passing years ago has been for them? We don’t even remember what it was we said, and if even we do sometimes the impact was far different and greater than we first thought.

There is a magic to our everyday exchanges that so often eludes us. That’s not to say that every suggestion or comment or post we share carries impact. But I wonder if by underestimating this there is a danger that we stay silent when there may well just be someone for whom your input will inspire something special. How often it is we keep our mouths shut or delete that thoughtfully-constructed tweet or Facebook post because we feel no one wants to listen? I am a firm believer that more people are listening to us than we realise.

“Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings?” God said to the prophet Zechariah (4:10, The Message).

It’s a sweet thought to wander into each day knowing that it could hold a small and beautiful beginning, all because of something hidden in the normality of conversation and social media feeds. The small beginning maybe for us. Or perhaps it will be for someone else – an aspect of their lives warmly affected by a suggestion we offered in person or online.

So, if you really want to, I say tell others about the countries, places, shops, restaurants and the like you have frequented. Instagram that quote that speaks what you’ve never been quite able to articulate yourself. Share what God is doing in your life. Talk about the book that you are currently lost in. Enthuse about the song that strikes a chord with you. Be it online or offline, if you feel the urge to raise your voice, to share about the goodness of something, do so. Whole new worlds lay ready to be explored and often it begins with the smallest of beginnings.

Oh, and if you do happen to visit Lisbon and like coffee, may I humbly suggest Corallo. The coffee, chocolate and its accompanying surroundings are a joy to savour. I can also recommend a good AirBnb host…