"If you are never alone with God it is not because you are too busy, it is because you don't care for Him, don't love Him and you had better face the facts." A. Ghazzali
I read this quote and it put a smile on my face. It is true. We make time for what matters. Life will always be busy but we have the wonderful gift of a free will. We get to choose. Nothing is forced upon us. We all have 24 hours a day and we all get to choose how we spend that time. We can say NO to things. We can say YES to things. Even with commitments, jobs, families. There is a choice that is made every day about how we spend our time and who we spend it with.
I often find myself falling back into lazy habits. Turning the computer on I can happily follow a rabbit trail of little stories and pictures and before I know it half an hour or an hour has gone down the drain. I choose to turn on the TV and embrace the mindlessness of it. Sitting like a zombie I let it entertain me, I let it all wash over me. An hour later I wonder where my evening has gone. But sometimes that doesn't matter. Mindless entertainment is needed.
However I am aware that I could quite easily lose my life to these WEAPONS OF MASS DISTRACTION! Google, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram etc.... They have their place. Great servants but terrible task masters.
I've watched married couples living in the same house, co- existing, sharing their lives, sharing a home but never actually making time to be together. I see them keeping frantically busy with life, filling it with activity, shopping, chores, kids, dogs etc... but they never intentionally sit down to talk to each other. They are too busy to really see each other. It takes effort and intentionality to chisel out time alone together. It takes organisation and a huge amount of energy just to make it happen. A couple might be too scared to slow down and actually spend time being real and honest with each other. It is easier just to exist alongside each other in a routine that validates your existence but doesn't question the status quo. It is only when the kids leave home that the gaping void in the relationship becomes apparent.
Since I am not married and have no experience of this I will shut up here because my words are empty of any authority. But what I can talk about is God and the quote above. I have had to face my own tendency to fill my time with activity and fight to chisel out time with the one I love.
On Saturday I told Him that He could have a whole day of my attention. I told Him that we were going to spend the whole day outside walking and talking. He could tell me whatever, I would shut up and listen. He could show me some stuff. I would pay attention. We would just hang out and be silent if that was how it unfolded.
So I packed some lunch, sandwiches, a bottle of water, a peach and some almonds. I covered my face and arms in suncream as it was a sunny day. Infact it was one of those perfect days, not too hot, not too cold. Clean champagne lighting. Not quite Autumn but you can feel the chill in the air, we are nearing the end of the summer.
I drove over to Wotton church, a sweet little church that looks vaguely Italian and is hidden down an overgrown country lane. I parked the car, got out and then decided that the sandwiches and the water bottle were too heavy to carry. I would just take the nuts and peach and lighten my load. I would go foot loose and fancy free.
Leaving the church behind us we started our walk along the footpath and I told God that I was really looking forward to this. I told Him that this was just the perfect day and then I opened with a comment about the corn fields and how they make me feel comfortable and safe.
'Why is that,' He asked? I said they bring back happy memories of different countries.
I remember a field of corn in Kenya somewhere near Lake Victoria and the town of Kisumu. I worked at Happy Home orphanage one summer and when the day was still cool, either early in the morning or at dusk I got into the habit of taking a stroll. I walked the roads around the property, meandering through fields of sugar cane and corn. One day I came across an elderly lady planting her field with seedlings. She was bent over working and as she was alone, I thought she needed a hand so I stopped to help.
Since we didn't speak the same language I just smiled, took a handful of seedlings and worked alongside her for twenty minutes. I got into a pattern, first push a hole in the rich red soil with my thumb, then pick up the seedling and place it in the hole. Pat the soil down around the stem and firm it up. Then move on to the next seedling. It was magical, working together in silence in that half light of dusk. It was slightly smoky and damp and the earth was rich. A hazy mist had settled on the land.
When all the seedlings were in, we shook hands and I left. In all that time we didn't say anything to each other that we could understand. We both smiled and used hand gestures to communicate. At the end we stood up, straightened our backs and there was a nod to acknowledge that the job was done.
I don't know that ladies name, her situation, or anything about her at all. But it just goes to show, you can get along in life without a shared language. Do you remember that God?
God smiled and seemed to say.... 'Yes, I remember.'
Where else do you associate with fields of corn? I told Him that corn also reminded me of Zimbabwe and the mission hill station that my Aunt and Uncle worked at. I remember driving on red soil roads through towering fields of corn. I remember fields of corn at the Montgomery children's home. For me the continent of Africa and corn go together, except it is named maize over there. Most meals consist of ground corn. Corn porridge. Miellie pap. Maize meal. Ugali. Sudza.
There was also corn cooked over a fire. Scorched, blackened and barbecued, sold on stalls in bus stops and along muddy roads.The left over remains of this snack litter the sides of the roads with gnarly corn cobs stripped bare of every kernel lying rotting in ditches.
I like the fruitfulness of corn. I like the order of fields planted and ripening. I also thought about corn and the red soils of Alabama. Corn reminds me of the South. I like Alabama.
God smiled and seemed to say ... 'Yes. So do I.'
He is a man of few words. But really pleasant company. We walked on down past the corn and into the woods which were cool in the shade. I was full of energy and happiness and bounced along. We then came out of the woods and entered a field that had been harvested and covered in slurry to prepare the soil for its next crop. It smelt of cheddar cheese. Rich and fetid but not unpleasant. Sweet and nutty.
We walked on in silence. I asked God if we could talk about why the Holy Spirit is called a spirit and alcohol is a spirit. He seemed to say 'Why not... what do you want to know?'
I asked what the similarities were between the Holy Spirit and spirits. He smiled and was silent. I said I thought it was something to do with the brain and neurones and feeling relaxed. I told Him that I knew the feeling of calm, peace and content that came from being around Him. I know the deep settled joy that I feel around the Holy Spirit. It is a wonderful, happy place to be. I thought about the warm glow inside that the spirit brings.
God smiled and said nothing.
I told Him I had been thinking about Jesus turning water into wine and how completely outrageous that was. The people at that wedding had already been drinking for 3 days! I mean I have never been to a party where people had been drinking for 3 straight days! What kind of chaos was going on by that point? And then, to top it all He prolonged the experience and gave them a massive supply of lavish expensive mature wine. How irresponsible was that!
God smiled. He likes to break the rules. He likes people to have fun. He is good. He is kind. He is the kindest person I know.
And so our walk went on. Generally with me chattering and Him listening. I think He just likes to be around me and He likes to hear my voice. I am quite unusual in that I take Him seriously enough and am convinced enough to spend a whole day with Him, together on a hike in the English countryside.
Infact I know that He is besotted with me, head over heels in love with me and that I am His favourite kid. I asked Him about that once ... I challenged Him and said ...
I know I'm your favourite. You are just so biased towards me. I am constantly being chased down by goodness. Why me?
He smiled. I know I'm His favourite. But so is every one of His kids.
I was getting thirsty at this point, regretting leaving my water bottle behind. I decided to try and fill up with blackberries. Maybe I could get enough moisture from them if I ate enough. I made my way off the path and worked myself into the depths of some bramble bushes, picking at the plump purple berries. 2 men on bikes rolled by. I watched them as they disappeared down the footpath. I ate loads of berries, my fingers were purple.
Then I remembered my box of nuts and the lonely peach. I backed out of the brambles and made my way across the path and over to a simple wooden bench placed pleasantly under a leaning Yew tree. We sat together on a bench in the shade while I ate. Then we sat and looked at the view and were quiet.
We spotted a yellow bird I'd never seen before. It was flitting around in the bush, all ruffled and cute. Its yellow feathers looking great against the blue sky and bright red berries. It flew off and into the woods.
We walked on through the valley, over the railway track and up onto the chalk downs. I noticed a pale blue butterfly. I told God it was such a wonderful colour. A vibrant, pearl pastel blue. Dreamy.
He is so creative. He smiled. I expect He was thinking that I haven't seen anything yet.
I'm really looking forward to dying and entering eternity and heaven. To see everything without the weight of time and decay. I sometimes ask if I can go soonish but so far He has answered, 'Not yet.'
We walked up the hillside and sat looking across the valley to Leith Hill, the tower shows as a tiny smudge on the horizon between a gap in the trees. Dorking lay to our left, Newlands Corner to our right.
I realised that sometimes quantity leads to quality.You need to spend lots of time with someone to know their mannerisms. To know what they are thinking before they even say it. You get to a place where you can sense them enter a room before you even see them. God and I are getting to that place. I know some of what He is thinking. He doesn't even need to say it and I know it. I know when it is Him talking and when it is just me. My internal voice gets confused, I reason, I go in circles, my internal voice is filled with doubt and anxiety. He is light hearted, His words are to the point. He is a man of few words. He is always happy and always has a solution. He is never defeated. Never tired. He never accuses me of anything. He doesn't nag. He points out my mistakes without making them into a big problem. He doesn't hold grudges.
Since we were having such fun we kept walking. Over Ranmore Common road and into the woods.I love these woods. They are not cold and muddy. They have layers of life and warmth and growth, like a tropical forest. They smell of rotting leaves and oxygen and mushrooms. The trees tower above, wrapping their arms around each other, making delicate patterns of light fall along the track we are walking on. There is enough light to sustain grass along the track. We reached Tanners Hatch Youth Hostel and I admired the 2 large canvas tent dormitories on stilts alongside the old cottage. I need to come back and stay the night. Camp by the fire. Maybe next Saturday.
We walked on through the damp, warm shady woods and out into the field and valley beyond. The valley was a bowl of sunshine and grass. It was a sheltered valley with rolling hills all around.Not the dry brittle grass of a long hot summer. But the warm sweet grass of rain and sunshine. I took off my shoes to feel the grass underfoot.
We started climbing up a chalky track that led us through the valley and into the parkland of Polesdon Lacey. Up above the valley we stopped to look at one particular tree that had gathered a swarm of birds around it. They were swirling around the top branches of the tree. A cloud of little birds. Landing briefly amidst the sticky leaves, chattering, nipping at insects and then flying off. I saw swallows, house martins, even a green parokeet. Other people stopped to admire the tree and the birds. I took out my camera and took a photo trying to capture the birds in flight. I took a photo of Tanners Hatch now on the other side of the valley.
We walked along the ridge of the hill under chestnut trees. I picked up a piece of chalk and added my name to those scratched on a board alongside the footpath. We kept walking right in to Polesdon Lacey's grounds. No National Trust card. No entry ticket. Nothing. I guess if you are God you can do whatever you want!