Friday, March 03, 2006

too much talking


today has been one of those days whereby i feel as though i have talked way too much. i have given 2 lectures concerning 'fairtrade' to guernsey's elite youth, then an interview with the BBC and tonight have spoken to a few hundred women (and a couple of men) to celebrate the 'Women's World Day of Prayer'

I just hope God really does treasure our too many words....

There was though a very liberating moment tonight in the liturgy of prayers. crafted by the strong women of south africa (where I am bound in a month or so) we gave thanks for so many gracious gifts - apples, peaches, drums, elephants, bony cows, baby's skin to name but a few of hundreds - but then came the quintessential moment of the day, the dear strong and beautiful ladies of S Africa in their liturgy to the world thanked God - praised him/her no less for, and i quote, 'high heeled shoes'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On reflection i think its beautiful...goodnight crazy people...wherever you are x

4 comments:

Rainbow dreams said...

whyever not thank God for high heeled shoes? Excellent .... :-)

Mystified said...

speaking of shoes - I just love this..... (sorry it is so long!)


THE SHOE MAN
My alarm went off, It was Sunday again. I was sleepy and tired, my one day to sleep in.
But the guilt I would feel the rest of the day would have been too much, so off I'd go and I'd pray.

I showered and shaved, I adjusted my tie, I got there and sat in a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer, I partially closed my eyes, I felt the shoe of a man next to me touching my own and I sighed.

With extra room on each side, "Why must our soles touch?". His shoe touching mine bothered me, but it didn't bother him much.

A prayer began with "Our Father" and I thought, "This shoe man has no pride. They're dusty, worn, and scratched even worse, there are holes on the side!"

"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on. The shoe man muttered a quiet "Amen." I tried to focus, solely on the prayer, slowly my thoughts went to shoes, again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best once we walk through that door? "Well, his appearance certainly isn't it, as I again glanced toward the floor."

Then the prayers finally ended and the songs of praise began. Now the shoe man had turned loud, sounding so proud as he sang.

His voice lifted toward the rafters, his gnarled hands were raised high, the Lord could surely hear him the shoe man shot his voice to the sky.

Soon it was time for the offering and what I threw in was steep. I watched as the shoe man reached into his pockets down down deep.

I saw what he had pulled out, and what the shoe man put in. I also heard the "clink clink" as his measely silver hit tin.

The sermon really bored me to tears, and that is no lie. Must've been the same for the shoe man, many tears fell from his right eye.

At the end of the service, as is the custom around here, we try to greet old and new visitors say "peace" and wish good cheer.

Strangely and curiously I felt moved wanted to meet shoe man, couldn't understand but mysteriously after the closing prayer, I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess confusingly I thanked him for coming, thanked him for being our church's guest.

He cheerfully said, "My name's Charlie, I'm glad to meet you dear friend." His eyes looked hurting and sad, but he wore a large and wide grin

"Let me confess something," he said wiping tears from his eyes. "I've been coming here for months, and you're the first ever to say 'Hi.'"

"I know that my shabby appearance is certainly not like all the rest, but I really do try to take care to always look my best."

i always clean and polish my shoes before my very very long walk sad to say by the time I get here, they're dirty and dusty like chalk."

My heart filled with pain and as I swallowed to hide a tear but he continued to apologize even for daring to sit so near.

He said, "When I finally arrive here, I know I must look quite a sight. Today I thought if I lightly touched you, maybe just our souls would unite."

I was silent for a moment knowing whatever I had said would pale in comparison. I spoke from my chest, not from my head.

"Kind sir you have touched me, and actually taught me, in part, that the best of a good man is what is found in his heart."

I sat quietly and thought about things, this shoe man will never know. Like just how thankful I now was that his dirty shoe had touched my soul...

To the man I finally wanted to say, "If we never meet again as we live in strife, you are intrinsically special to me you have made a difference in my life."

"I respect and truly cherish you, I do sincerely hope we again meet and when we do again in this church feel free to soul touch me thru your feet".

Rainbow dreams said...

Thats beautiful mystified - sorry not my blog to say that, but it is, thankyou

The Harbour of Ourselves said...

Thanks for the story...very moving...will use it often