Crossing the line

Spawn X approaches me in an overly friendly, affectionate manner, given the conversation we last had and which he has not yet apologised for. The conversation, 24 hours previously, started out friendly enough and involved normal banter, in-family jokes and mild insults. But the conversation was long and there was an undercurrent of Nogadgetwednesday frustration which eventually crumbled into perpetual answering back. Think kid across the street from the McCallisters in HomeAlone, but instead of incessant questioning about the mileage, speed and 4 wheel drive capability of the airport shuttle bus, we had sarcasm. Yay. It might have been fascinating to watch from a sociological point of view, but by the time it got truly interesting I was barely hanging onto control of my own mouth to analyse the situation in a detached, reflective way. However, I am an adult. I possess the filters which Spawn X lacks. I therefore did not verbalise the many comments swirling in my head but dried the dishes with Spawn Y (both of us chanting la la la la la la until I became dizzy), while co-parent Z fielded the comments and comebacks. It was not a fun tea time.

X: I love you, mum.
Me: I love you too, mate.
X: Can I go on the computer?
Me: (Look of incredulity) Are you... forgetting something perhaps?
X: I'm sorry.
Me: (More of the Look)
X: I really am sorry.
Me: For what, exactly? I mean it's really nice to hear from you and everything, but I just want to be clear on this.
X: For being, as you so eloquently phrased it 'A total git'... And oh look you're smiling because it was quite funny- isn't it amazing that I can make you laugh about this?
Me: Yes, your gift is indeed your curse.
X: No, it's not my curse, its-
Me: No, no, no! This really is your curse. You're smart. You're witty. You're fun to be around. And you have NO idea where the line is.
X: See - I think I do know where the line is- I just don't care about crossing over it.
Me: But then this happens - so you need to learn to care. How can we stop things going there? We need a new gesture...

(We used to have a discreet 'You're crossing the line NOW' gesture that I could use on him in company without saying anything, but it backfired on a couple of occasions and lost effectiveness. We spend a ridiculous 60 seconds trying out new gestures, none of which could be used discreetly in the company of other people and one or two that could be construed as mildly offensive).

Me: None of these are working.
X: Hmmm. I shall need to give this some thought. I'll sleep on it and get back to you.
Me: That would be fantastic.

Technology (part 2)

I recently spent a fantastic weekend at a cottage in the middle of nowhere with some lovely mates, a collection of books, CDs, wii dance, half a dozen chick flicks and enough food to feed twice as many of us that were there. It was perfect.

Aside from the lack of ability to contact anyone in the outside world.

The holiday cottage backed onto the house of the proprietor, who because of recent storms had temporarily lost her landline, which BT were in the process of fixing.

Between the 5 of us we were customers of 3 different network providers- none of which gave coverage at the house. (Everything Everywhere? Really EE? Have you ever been to Ingleton?)

The closest place to get a signal was over the ridge of a large hill about 2 miles away. We drove out there a couple of times to check on the whereabouts of the last friend to arrive, talk to our respective husbands and kids before bedtime and (me only) forward on half a dozen work related emails to my line manager / husband because I'm on holiday thank you very much I love you.

Ah....
No internet.
No phone line.
No interruptions.
Just friends.
Eating and talking and laughing and being reminded about what made us friends in the first place.

This may sound idyllic to some, and for the most part it totally was, but I am practical and think about things like being able to alert the emergency services in the event of one of us waking at 3 in the morning with crushing chest pain, which given that more than half of us are now over the age of 40 is becoming more of a statistical possibility.

Thankfully this didn't happen and no such assistance was needed. But it did make me think how reliant I am on technology, how I am online a little more often than is probably healthy and the hypocrisy involved in trying to police my adolescent son's dependence on Minecraft when I don't cope too well without email over a long weekend.

WooWooWoo: When does security and sense of self become unhealthily linked to the presence of wifi? And is the answer to this in any way related to missing the sound of Siri's proper voice since the last upgrade?

Am testing this out by leaving the house today for 5 days WITHOUT my lap top. Like on purpose- I didn't just forget it.

I am not strong enough to do this cold turkey thing alone though, so am going with my husband and kids and 2 other families and their kids and my phone (with international calls, texts and data roaming for £4.99/day).

Baby steps.

Jigsaws

When a group of friends get together for food, drink and jigsaw building, the conversation can become somewhat nonsensical- primarily due to the lack of consensus re vocabulary. 

I have tried googling the correct anatomical terms for commonly shaped jigsaw pieces but can't find any. So either there are none, or they do exist but are not shared outside some secret jigsaw builders society- you know like Freemasonary or Mormonism- but for jigsaws. 

Persistence

We spent a week of the Summer holidays on various beaches with a bunch of friends and an assortment of windbreaks, towels, buckets & spades, camping chairs, cool boxes and flasks of coffee. It was ACE.

One beach in particular was just breathtaking. We ended up there on one of the warmest days of the holidays and swam and played in the sea without wetsuits. Apparently the beach, Barafundle Bay is one of the top 12 in the World and we didn't even have to leave the country to get there.

After a few hours the tide began to creep up the beach. The gradient of the sand was such that there was a steep-ish bank and a ridge of sand about 30' or so from our camp.

Wouldn't it be cool, we thought, if we could create a massive sandcastle at the top of the ridge that would withstand the waves and allow the kids to STAND on top of it? The kids were too busy playing in the waves (and failing to save a long-since abandoned sandcastle from being swallowed up by the sea). But the adults in our group got to work. 

The spot at the top of the sand ridge was chosen and digging implements assembled. I don't know if you have had first hand experience of this, but adults can quickly build an impressively huge sandcastle without children getting in the way. We had a system. We had plastic spades. A common goal. Five of us chucked the sand on, and one stood on top and compressed the sand down, flattening it layer by layer and making it strong enough to support the weight of the 8 children we collectively own.

Within half an hour it stood imposing and strong on the beach. It wasn't an ornate or decorative thing, but it was fit for purpose, topped with a large flat sandy platform to accommodate 16 feet (maybe more- if everyone huddled up like penguins). The tide was still a few feet away and we still had time to save ourselves. Yay!

I scrambled up to join the bigger children. I pulled the smaller kids up one at a time. It was a squash. But it didn't matter because no one stayed long. There were still holes in the sand to be dug. And seaweed to collect. And it's far more thrilling to climb up a massive sandcastle then immediately jump down again than to simply stand atop it and wait for Sandcastle Armageddon. 

Apparently. 

I didn't try it.

Once up there I stayed. Initially this was to pluck the smaller members of our group from the jaws of the approaching waves. But pretty soon (probably due to OCD-related reasons) it swapped and became a battle of wills in my head. If I get off of this thing before the sea washes over the top of it, then the sea will win. I don't want the sea to win. Therefore I will stay here.

When the sea is only a few feet away, but those few feet are slopey, waiting for the tide can take a lonnnnnngggg time.

Sometimes there were 5 or 6 of us up there. Sometimes I was alone. Although the sun was still shining, it was dropping in the sky and lack of movement made me shiver. The constant scrambling up and down of many small feet dislodged slabs of sand from the sides, so I patted them back in again. And waited for the end.

I was cold. And horribly sandy. If I could only get down and rinse off in the sea I could get dry and warm and maybe there was some hot water left for TEA?

But that would involve getting down, and then the sea would win.

By the time the waves reached the foot of the castle, some of the kids had got too cold to be wet and were already back in clean, dry clothes. Those left ran up the castle wall and waited for the structure to collapse.

But Armageddon was still a while off yet. We had built the sandcastle pretty high. The game of choice changed from climb up sandcastle and immediately jump down into sand, to climb up sandcastle and immediately jump back down into sea. It looked fun. But if I tried it, that would involve getting down, and then the sea would win.

So I froze a bit longer as the waves slowly eroded our fortress and (rather excitingly) flowed over the ridge and back towards our camp, leaving us stranded on our artificial island. 

After another 10 minutes or so the next wave washed over the entire sandy platform, and the game was over. The sandcastle had gone, but we had WON!!

The remaining islanders washed off in the sea and rejoined our group to a round of applause. When we turned to leave, all that was left was a flat expanse of sea and sand with only a broken spade handle suggesting anything had happened.

OK. F/Fwd to this Sunday and we are in church. Singing a song I've never heard before. Part of it went:

You are everything you've promised, 
your faithfulness is true
When we're desperate for your presence, 
All we need is you

I really struggled to sing this. Not just because it was unfamiliar, but because it wasn't true. At that point in time, if I had the chance to itemise the things I was desperate for I would have said:

1. For my in-box to be empty
2. For the rain to hold off so the 4 loads of washing I did yesterday can dry
3. For the children to be head-lice free (a process I embarked on this morning which took the best part of an hour and a half and resulted in 3 of us being half an hour late for church, and probably the reason why I'm not desperate for anything else right now).

What's wrong with me? 

Then I remembered the beach. And some other things too.

If I can:

• waste an hour and a half of my life sitting like a pixie on top of a pile of compressed sand in order to win a self-created mind game with the Atlantic Ocean

• complain to HMRC via repeated recorded delivery mail over 4 years, 2 MPs and several house moves until they finally lose interest in me and my alleged 'overpayment'

• find 90 seconds every single day to breed dragon pairs and collect fake coins

Then surely I demonstrate my capacity for stubbornness and persistence which can be channelled into something that means something. I just need to be obstinate about things that matter and not give up praying about stuff when it doesn't happen right away.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Suppose one of you should go to a friend's house at midnight and say, ‘Friend, let me borrow three loaves of bread. A friend of mine who is on a trip has just come to my house, and I don't have any food for him!’ And suppose your friend should answer from inside, ‘Don't bother me! The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can't get up and give you anything.’ Well, what then? I tell you that even if he will not get up and give you the bread because you are his friend, yet he will get up and give you everything you need because you are not ashamed to keep on asking. And so I say to you: Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. For those who ask will receive, and those who seek will find, and the door will be opened to anyone who knocks. (Luke 11, 5-10)

Just say an individual wave got disheartened from crashing into a huge sandcastle then just gave up? A single wave dislodges and rearranges several hundred thousand particles of sand and nothing more. But wave after wave after wave can do this.

Ask

Seek

Knock

And Play in the Sand

F•R•I•E•N•D•S and dysfunctional lovers

As Joey Tribiani once said, there’s no such thing as a selfless good deed. The good-deeder always gets something in return, even if it’s purely the fuzzy satisfaction of having helped the deed-ee.

For the remainder of the FRIENDS episode in Season 5, a philosophical battle ensues as Pheobe desperately attempts to prove Joey wrong and provide an example of true altruism because ‘I just gave birth to three children and I will not let them be raised in a world where Joey is right!’ 

But sadly she is unable to do so. Because people are basically egotistical and selfish (either due to sin or the evolutionary instinct to outrun your neighbour so they get mauled by the lion- take your pick cause both of them work) and to be fair, she only had 30 minutes to gather her evidence.

While I reluctantly agree with Joey on this one, I’d like to further explore the warm fuzziness and see what happens when that runs out.

I've been a Street Pastor for a few years now (www.streetpastors.co.uk/) which, as a nocturnal person who likes to talk a lot and listen a lot, is more fun than most people imagine. The majority of people we meet at stupid o'clock are so appreciative to see us there, awake and sober that they are more than happy to pass the time of night and take a lolly before the customary kebab and taxi home. Fuzzy satisfaction in abundance- for punters and pastors.

But then sometimes there are nights like this:

• It’s 3am and our team have been dealing with a large group of friends in varying degrees of sobriety for over an hour.

• No one seems to know exactly how many of them will be getting in the taxi which is arriving imminently, or who’s house everyone will be staying at.

• One of them is having a panic attack.

• One of them has lost her coat. Or maybe she loaned it to someone. She can’t remember.

• One of them is desperate to get home to her toddler son as the babysitter was expecting her home 2 hours ago.

• One of them has done a runner and is hiding somewhere after allegedly cheating on his girlfriend.

• Cheated girlfriend is in a drunken heap with a massive lump on her head, crying out for cheating boyfriend. Repeatedly. And loudly.

• Two taxis come and go again because everyone isn’t ready and waiting. They still haven’t decided where everyone’s staying tonight. And no body wants to leave cheated girlfriend with lumpy head. Besides- the paramedic hasn’t turned up yet to confirm whether her vomiting is due to excessive alcohol or an intracranial hemorrhage.

I have now lost all fuzz and warmth.
I have bits of vomit, mud and blood on me.
I tell cheated girlfriend that if cheating boyfriend really did what he did tonight then he doesn’t deserve her. She continues to cry out for him anyway.

Paramedic arrives and diagnoses no intracranial hemorrhage (yeah!) but advises that cheated girlfriend must not be left alone tonight. Hmm. Probably too early for reconciliation with cheating boyfriend.

Sleepy looking relative of cheated girlfriend arrives in a car. Paramedic hands over to him (yeah! again). We quickly ascertain that group can somehow get home and make a quick exit back to the warmth of the base. Then go HOME. Thank you God.

Before I go to sleep I am flicking through a book I’d looked at earlier that night when I get something far heftier than a fuzz of warmth and satisfaction. It’s like the BAM of exposed pride and the realisation that God is far bigger and far more loving and gracious than I can ever imagine.

(‘Dangerous Wonder’ by Michael Yaconelli, pg 146. Scenario is a High School State Final 2000 metre race. One of the contestants has deformed legs and is limping badly. It is later revealed that the only reason she's in the final is because no one else from her small-school region competed).

When the gun went off she began racing. I assumed that although she was limping, she would be able to keep up with the rest of the runners. I was wrong. After the first lap, she was a quarter of a lap behind, and by the time everyone was finished she still had a whole lap to run all by herself. As she went down the back stretch I could see the agony on her face. Every step she took was excruciatingly painful, but she would not stop. Without realising it, all of us in the stands had risen to our feet. We were all cheering her on. As she passed by the front of the stands, the noise was overpowering. We were all screaming in unison 'Go Go GO!' When she finally crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted in a lengthly ovation.

That race was a very long time ago. To this day I have no idea who won the girls' 2000m, but I will never forget the girl who was last.

The grace of God says to you and me 'I can make the last place more significant than the first. I will use prostitutes to teach others about gratitude. I will use lepers to teach others about cleanliness. I will take men who persecute the church and make them its pillars. I will take the dead and give them life. I will take uneducated fishermen and make them fishers of men.' God's grace does not exist to make us successful. God's grace exists to point people to a love like no love they have ever known. A love outside the lines.

Something massive shifted in my chest and my head as I read this and thought about the events of the previous few hours. I could almost feel the new understanding seeping into until-now numb areas of my brain as I realised just how much grace was demonstrated that night. And not by us- supposed agents of God walking the earth, but by the cheated girlfriend with the lumpy head.

She was totally devastated about the situation with her boyfriend- most of the time we spent with her she was wailing that she loves him and crying out for him to be there. Granted this is not a healthy example of love, but doesn't it beautifully demonstrate how indiscriminate and shocking grace is??

Undeserved favour.
When nothing can be gained for the giver.
And I almost missed it cause I was frustrated by the context.

I have tons of God stuff to learn.

How much do I miss because I get distracted by the wrapping paper or think that the warm fuzzy bit is actually the thing?

Be especially careful when you are trying to be good so that you don’t make a performance out of it. It might be good theater, but the God who made you won’t be applauding. (Matthew 6, The Message)

I love Phoebe. She's the Friend who is least likely to be distracted by the packaging. And her efforts to prove the existance of selflessness in order to be right still amuses...