Monday, July 25, 2005

Running ahead of the storm...

I blog in my head as I run.

The first few drops refresh my over heated body. Bono screams out it’s a beautiful day through my headphones. The wind picks up, invigorates. Four miles gone one to go and the storm promises to cool me down. A flash – 2…..3…..4….5 and then thunder. The drops get bigger heavier. Flash 2…3….then thunder.

I look over my shoulder. The black cloud seems to be following me. Ok the flash and thunder is uncomfortably close. Newspaper headlines swirl Batmanesque in and out of my mind “jogger struck by lightening….!” I speed up and the drops stop. I relax and the drops are back. I speed up and the drops stop. I relax and the drops are back... All the time the pyrotechnics above are enough for me to push myself to the limit. All the time the blackness is on my shoulder.

I get in. 45 mins a PB for the Isle of Dog’s! The storm in full swing I go into the garden hoping to see lighting strike Canary Wharf. As I stand in the gloom of the storm. The rain refreshing, rejuvenating, cleansing - I smile and the irrationality of my fear. Canary Wharf is a fair bit taller than me!!

Later I sit back – and think about how so often pastorally I feel like this. Not running away from pastoral headaches but keeping one step ahead of the storm … just. Pushing to keep ahead. Fearing the worst.

We’ve a few storm clouds on the horizon – I wonder what I’ve learned?


Anonymous said...

This is so true Gordon, sometimes we do feel we are just keeping one step ahead of the storm. I had one of those mornings myself fearing what the day was to bring and then as I drove my children to the bus I saw the most beautiful rainbow that spanned across the sky and looked like if almost touched the ground. It was for me a clear sign from God that things would be OK. Arent we thankful Gordon that we dont do any of this in our own strength and that God reaches to speak to us through the storm or the rainbow.


Sister said...

As I try to do a silent retreat at Katherine House for a good part of each day while family and other stuff rages around me, it has been registering with me that God is challenging me to be the calm at the eye of the storm.

And I can only do that by being deeply nourished by his loving presence, by constant prayer, by abandoned trust, and by reckless courage. I can't outrun it. I can't stop it. I can't even dodge the lightning. All I can do is try to be the God-filled still place in the centre that people can come to experience his stillness, his strength, his loving compassion.

Gordon said...

Hi Glenda!

thanks for your comments. Have you pulled teh plug on your blog? I miss popping in :o) Also emails to you bounce back.

Sister said...

I also miss your blog Glenda, though I would, if you will forgive me, comment that I make every endeavour never to refer to anyone on my blog who could possibly recognise themselves - even if they don't at the moment have the net, or are unlilkely to get it in the near future. Even if a comment seems neutral to me it worries me that they may feel their privacy has been invaded. I get frustrated with this, and it limits my blogging - taking all the most interesting stuff out of the arena, but it sits right with me as ethical.
I hope that does not cause offense to either you or Gordon!

Anonymous said...


Yes, I have pulled the plug on the blog, just going through one of those valley times, but coming out the other end. We are just in the middle of changing providers...
you can email me on if you like.

God Bless