A Dry Patch at St Wigglesworth

A period of drought has just come to an end in my life.
No, I have not been deprived of showers, endless mugs of coffee, or had to regulate tooth washing resources - which reminds me of a campfire sketch, but that is another story.

I have been spuiritually dry, and I would say as usual, all my own fault.
I am part of a wonderful group, who for narative purposes, I will call 'Square Pegs, Round Holes', part of the Outreach Ministry at St Wibblesworth.

The registar has it most accurately, in my case at least.
Team and Members names minggled into one long list.
There are of course, those who abely lead us, whilst others follow on. Some of the led, occassionally like to lead, whilst others that lead at times find the need to be led.

Week by week we meet, square pegs in round holes - which in all fairness is a good description of absolutely anybody and everybody, even those who have worked hard at shaving of corners and pushing outwards on the long straight lines in an attempt to appear to conform.

It was my turn this week to present the devotional, a short God Slot before dissolving our partnership for another week. Writing that, I think infact the whole meeting is God Slotted; we eat together, we drink together, share stories of our weeks, troubles, woes, joys and random happenings... we do an activity, sometimes we even cry and laugh together - all the time we are doing Community.
(There you are, I got in that good old Key Word, a supporting structure beam of church, Community.)

The email had arrived 4 weeks previous, devotions following a series. Eeek, I screeched, neither accademic nor one to follow norm and protocol.
Eeek I shouted, it would have deafened you had you heard. The following weeks I grumbled and rumbled inside, moaning about not being my thing:
"How could I possibly....?
"What right had they...?
"Grumble, rumble, groan and moan. "

Fortunately it was all in my head, a secret side of me, tucked away bubbling in it's own couldron, where no-one else could see.
God could see!

Along with that, and a spiritual dryness - a self imposed lack of scripture or prayer, and a virtual ignoring of God pacing by my side. Warning lights flashed, ignored - and of course I grumbled, rumbled, groaned and moaned.

The night before, by then I realized I was intercessing at St Wibblesworth main morning service too, I sat down to................. watch a movie!

Between the hours of 1 & 3am, way after the crescent shaped moon had dipped in the west, I knuckled down to scripture and prayer, like openning a floodgate and allowing God's grace to re-enter in...., or had he ever left?

The prayers were writ.
Another disparaging glance at the Wibblesworth Square Peg Round Hole resource, I made it to bed, sleep, this time in a prayerful and praising mood - slumbering most deeply and restfully for 6 hours.

9am is far too late for me to crawl from bed, but by 10:15, bathed, medicated, breakfasted and bandaged I was amazingly early for church. That has not happenned, on the few Sundays I have struggled in, for a while.

Over breakfast I had written in my little book of random Quirks, Thoughts and Quotes, a pondering from @scribblinghappy

"Life is an adventure given by God.

I just smile and document it."

http://www.caitlinmuir.com

En-route to church I stopped peddalling for a few moments to write

"...how important it is to engrave God's Holy Word in our hearts, not by mis-quotes or bit-quotes, or incidental study of the odd verse here and there. Instead by saturating ourselves in scrpture, prayer AND the Holy Spirit."

I am reminded of a friend encouraging me into this pool, 'Come on in, the water is loverly.'
Not untill now - I have swum there many times - do I understand what God and maybe they meant by that comment.

Another jotted down note as the service began,

When I turn to scripture and prayer, I get so excited and feel God's presence.
'Why is it I so easily turn away only idly thinking of things of the Spirit, God and Jesus, and get despondant?'

The message of the service like an arrow, straight to the point. God's Grace, Forgiveness, Strength, Courage; for me it is enough. Smack between the eyes, bullseye! Whack! POW!
What of the grumble, rumble, moan and groan.

After lunch I dug out that crumpled sheet of words which had opennly laughed at and ridiculled me for 4 weeks. This time, with poetic beauty and guidance from the Holy Spirit, yes God really did send us his Helper, words penned both on paper and in my mind; pretty soon these were shared, chatted about, thrown around and provided a fitting end to our 'St Wibblesworth Square Pegs, Round Holes' gathering - which hopefully will be chewed over this coming week.