I noticed this years ago when I embarrassed myself in a car full of colleagues, but it is still true today. “What do you mean?” I hear you cry, and would like to believe that you want to know what is still true today. However, although you might be interested in that I bet that you are far more interested in how I embarrassed myself in a car full of colleagues.
Go on! Be honest! You are! Aren't you?
We were driving to a meeting. I can’t remember what it was, but I had offered to drive and I had four other far older, wiser, and more important clergy than me in the car. The conversation was pleasant and we were all relaxed… and then it happened.
A fire engine drove towards us. It was a big red shiny one that my eighteen month old (at the time) son would have loved. I had no control over my body. Before I could do anything my hand had shot up raising a gesturing digit in the general direction of the anti-inflammatory appliance and out of my words had sprung, with vastly over-egged enthusiasm, the words “Look! It’s a nee-nah.”
I recalled this the other day as I drove along the A66 and saw this pony in a field beside the traffic jam I had been snarled up in. My daughter would have loved to see it and there would have been another half hour discussion about why she can’t have a horse.
She wasn’t there in body, but I still took a photo. For, though it sounds cheesy, she was there, just as my son had been among the startled and slightly mocking clergy in my car all those years ago.
Love is like that.
What do you suppose that says about prayer? For if God loves us half as much as we love our kids I suspect it says an awful lot.
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