Last Monday I knew I faced a week of writing... it was an important though rather daunting job and to my shame I don't motivate myself well when I know I have to spend days in front of my computer. So I thought... "Hey I tell people they can pray about anything. I can pray about asking God to help me write lots about prayer." So I did and He did and I wrote loads! There was no stopping me, my fingers were on fire and the words were flowing easily from my mind. For days this lasted and rather predictably (though I was fairly blind to it at the time) it slowed and stopped when I stopped chatting to Him about it. Now the job is pretty much finished. I was so chuffed at such a helpful answer to prayer that I thought I'd have a go again...
Yesterday I decided to get a slightly later train into London so I'd have time to do some of our household's laundry. No big deal I'd only be half an hour later into the office. I had some breakfast, hung out my washing to dry and put another load on. Then I half skipped to the station listening to Anastacia and JLo (I'm revisiting pop tunes of the past at the mo) and with five minutes to spare walked into a surprisingly packed Chichester Train Station. The queue was moving slower than the hair growing on my head, the quick purchase machines were having a mini fit and the man by the gates wouldn't let me get my ticket on the train and instead sold me one at an incredibly slow (and I suspect deliberate) pace. As he handed me my ticket and receipt the train to London sailed on by. I have to confess I stormed onto the platform and swore. Not my finest hour. It was under my breath but swear words are the easiest to lip read, they're such satisfying plosives.
I stood there feeling stupid. What a way to start the week, an hour late into the office and I had such high hopes for continuing my working streak. I sat on the cold station bench and opened my laptop bag. Inside was a brand new journal and my favourite Parker fountain pen. I usually embark on empty pages with hopes and dreams, the potential of the blank book spurring me to positivity. Yesterday I started with honesty and said sorry for letting my frustration turn to suspicion and anger (maybe the ticket man wasn't being deliberately slow) and for letting it all bubble out in one ugly word. I felt a lot better. The next half an hour waiting for the next train to Victoria I filled the pages of my shiny new journal with some reflections on how I'd responded, some things I love about God, and the people and situations I'd love His attention on. Again I prayed, even though I was starting on the back foot, please help me work well and as I stepped on the train, that's what happened. Two documents I was blocked on flowed almost freely onto my laptop and by the end of the day I was amazed how much I'd done with enough time to chat to Andrea about prayer guides, Wardy about jury service, Smiles about India and Toggers about our latest books in our read-a-book-a-week challenge. God is good. If I just hang out with Him I'm genuinely a better person... xc