The Traveller’s Rest- Life, the School for the Mystical.

Sunday Morning Worship.

When I got out of bed on Sunday morning I was not prepared for the amazing morning of encounter that I had. I was not seeking out the presence or looking for glory. I was not committing myself to a morning in prayer or deciding to read the Scriptures. It was nothing more than a beautiful lazy Sunday morning with my family. Nowhere to go to, nowhere to be, just alive with every breath for the day. It all began as I drew back the curtains and captured the view that I see every morning. My beautiful valley, the mountains, basking in Sunday morning sunshine. I was immediately in the place of being in awe of the Creator. I sensed His handiwork out there and His presence with me. There was a stirring inside for the place where I live, the people that live here. This was where I dwelt, lived, worked, breathed, worshipped. This is where I could sense He was dwelling amongst men. The Sunday morning worship had begun.

Prayer Stations of the Home.

It was now time to do a few chores around the home. With polish in hand I started moving through the rooms of the house. Dusting a giraffe that I had purchased in Africa and an elephant I was given as a gift I released a prayer for those I had encountered there in Tanzania and Kenya. For John and Debbie Bullock who have just relocated to the Nation from the Rhondda Valleys. For the land that Jesse and Diane Grey had invested in for years before their sad departing from this world, for the men and women I had met whose lives they invested in. This sparked a real sense of the prayer stations around my home as I cleaned. India and the orphans that Martin and Gaynor Rees have given a home and education too. Latvia as I cleaned the snowglobe and Joanna and Ian Storie, their farm, their lives, their giving of themselves for a Nation. A candle from Ireland led me to pray for Caitriona Dalton and her journey outside the walls. A picture I was given from Cramlington reminded me of the incredible people of the North-east, Keith and Julia, Paula and Al, Geoff and Lynne and others now walking the path in the land. A Swedish wall towel reminded me of Maria and Bjorn and Torbjorn and Anna. Those great connections in the disconnect. The journey since leaving the walls. People of the caves connected for the journey ahead.

The Lord’s Table?

As a family we always try and sit at the table for our meal times. Not to be religious but there is something of the Spirit about tables and food and gathering around them. These days we rarely find the six of us doing this together, the boys have their social lives and sports lives, we have commitments, but those times do come. This morning we were together for a bit of a stuttering breakfast, no one really eating together but we found ourselves together. There was no spiritual talk or hymn singing, but there was chat and laughter and joy and togetherness. There was a sense that this was the Lord’s table as we shared pastries and continental style feasts and tea. We didn’t have to talk about Him for me to realise He was there amongst my family. Loving the freedom of unity of spirit, and realising afresh that it had nothing to do with being spiritual but living life.

Peeling the Layers Away.

Then it was time to prepare the vegetables for Sunday dinner. Another seemingly mundane task but one that turned into a time of worship and awe. Listening to a soundtrack of laid back tunes from a variety of people, like one of the old mixtapes. Brian Eno, Sigur Ros, David Sylvian, Peter Gabriel rubbed shoulders with John Mark McMillan, delirious?, Future of Forestry. This was a holy place, a holy moment. I felt so loved as I peeled away the skins and the layers. Through the seemingly mundane tasks God had peeled even more layers away from my life. Giving me eyes to see again that the whole of life is a school for the mystical. It is not always about the supernatural, it is seeing that the natural is indeed super. That each particle of life contains a particle of the eternal heavens. That He truly does want to walk with us through the whole of life. It is not about the spectacular or the events or the meetings, but about life being lived in Him. Next time I clean or polish I may not have such a feeling, but feelings should not dictate the truth that He is in the shadows all along. He is always there peeling away the layers of our hearts.

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