There's a time for everything

OK, here’s another confession of my own stupidity.

I picked up the shed on Saturday and loaded it onto a borrowed trailer and left it on a friends driveway ready to drag off to the poustinia-site when I returned having been in the Vicarage over the weekend to enable a boy-scout-adventure-thingamajig (I don’t resent it, I am just jealous. Do you know what scouts get to do these days? Apart from some guages taken out of fingers, they seemed to have a great time. Anyway I am digressing.)

I have to leave poustinia-central again tomorrow afternoon so I was quite keen to get a whole day in today, but after watching the Scots get thrashed at Rugby (sorry, who were they playing again?) and then waiting til my wife got home (not only so I could gloat, I hasten to add) it was almost dark and as the trailer is now over eight foot wide I thought I would prefer to tow it in the daylight.

I reminded myself that the poustinia is one of the aims of the sabbatical so it is allowed to take time. So instead of shooting off in the darkness and arriving tired and stressed I worshipped with the methodists, had a lovely evening with the family, and drove across in gorgeous sunshine. Furthermore the hardware shop was open on a Monday morning, so I have saved myself an hour’s driving later in the week to get the other bits I need.

Why is it that, even when we don’t need to we still rush? I have reflected on this before but we become so accustomed to stress that we seem to become addicted and create it around ourselves for fun. Have you ever heard anything so silly?

Today has already been a gift of grace but I bet there is more to be found. Anyone fancy a treasure hunt?