Far Removed

In a corner café in the Borough of Camden, I'm perched on a bar stool against a window with the sun pouring in so brilliantly that I am currently unable to see anything and am writing with my eyes closed (thank goodness for all that Mavis Beacon training as a child - result!). A beautiful deep pan spanish tortilla slice is served and I slice away at it from the edge to the tip, ignoring all prior customs in defeat against the sun. 

I'm watching a mid-week moment in London pass me by outside: construction workers outside the kebab et al shop across the road, people tossing up between their coats and their t-shirts, and a mixture of busyness and slow strolls. We are all for a moment distracted from the issues facing our world. And it's nice. Distraction is nice.

It has been a long time since I have written. I feel as though it has been a long time since I have spoken. There are some people in this world who's life will go fairly smoothly. I call this the Instagram life. You know - the pictures of coffee, of a nice indoor plant, beach shots, big family and friends gatherings. Dogs.

So when the world paints the ideal for you, but the floor falls from beneath you quite suddenly, you start to see that the floor was a facade to begin with. And I'm not saying that we shouldn't celebrate the good things like nature, family, friends, and dogs, etc. But we need to be more readily aware that there are times when it doesn't redeem you. All of this ideal - it's just things and moments. They should be appreciated, but the appreciation needs to be turned to somewhere else other than the things themselves. Because when the things disappear, so can our appreciation. 

My foundation has been found in something eternal, not ephemeral. And whilst I acknowledge the good things that are good, I celebrate the one through which they have been given to me. Because that way, when the going gets tough, the goodness of His long-suffering promotes and encourages my own.

How sweet it is to be loved by You.