Fear, Peace and Singing: Week 1 of my Treasure Hunt

"For the Lord your God is living among you.

He is a mighty saviour.

He will take delight in you with gladness.

With his love, he will calm all your fears.

He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."

(Zephaniah 3:17, NLT)

I've had an interesting first week of the challenge I set myself (If you missed it, and therefore don't have a clue what I'm talking about, you can read the original post here).

The first couple of days were reasonably uneventful – going to work, coming home and so on. It wasn't until Wednesday when the first thing that I'd call noteworthy happened. I was walking down the road on a break from work, and noticed a mother walking along the opposite side of the road with a pushchair. As I got closer, I could hear her singing to the child while she walked along.

As I thought more about it, I remembered that, somewhere in the Bible, it talked about God rejoicing over us with singing. I knew it was in there somewhere, although I couldn't remember exactly where. But at that moment I had a real-life illustration of what God does for every one of us. Because He loves us.

Then, that evening on my way home, I had a car accident.

I'm Going on a Treasure Hunt – Who's Coming With Me?

This weekend, I've spent more time than usual in church. Four services in total, rather than the usual one or two. All of them were very different in style: two at my home church, one "standard" service, one more casual; one high Anglican evensong; one Catholic mass.

In different ways, God spoke to me through all of them.

The Bench by the Lake

It's September, and the new term has started. For me, this means a return to one of my favourite spots in the park near my office. A bench, by the side of a lake. 

It's a bench that's come to mean a lot to me since the spring brought its warmth and I first started visiting. It's the spot I've come to countless times to pray, to listen. 

Sitting back in that same spot yesterday, I found myself reflecting. Things are very different since the last time I was here, before the summer holidays.

The End of the Old Book (or How I Came to Have a Story to Tell)

I'm never particularly comfortable talking about myself, or what's going on in my life. I always feel as though I'm being far too self-indulgent. I'm much happier listening to the tales other people tell about their lives: their joys and sadnesses, trials and triumphs. I love hearing people's stories. Understanding where they've come from, and how they've got to where they are. "What's your story?" is one of my favourite questions.

Just please don't make me talk about me.

For a while, though, I've felt that it was time I did answer that question, publicly, for myself. One problem: I haven't been brave enough. There are a lot of chapters in that old book, and I'm still not bold enough to tell the stories contained in all of them. I'm not sure when – or if – that'll happen. But I think it's time for me to tell this one.