Apparently this week is National Chip Week: as in, the British public don't eat enough deep-fried potato, and really ought to do something about increasing their average intake. Hmmm, not sure what the heart surgeons would have to say about that one. But anyway, dutiful citizens of the Nanny State that we are, we had fish 'n' chips for tea. No...I don't feel any more patriotic than before for it.
Jo took Susie and Noah to see their cousins again today, and they didn't get back till late. But I put the kids to bed, and read them a story each. Susie chose Little Bear's Numbers. That girl knows her numbers better than I do; I'm genuinely proud of her.
I walked home from work thinking about how, in the West, we tend to think of journeys - at least, regular, mundane, commuting journeys; perhaps not holiday cruises, or safaris - as simply a means of getting from A to B; with luck, in the shortest possible time. Whereas perhaps we should think of them as a succession of arrivals and potential opportunities in their own right; opportunities to see the Kingdom break in, bringing blessing to us and to others...And as I was thinking this, who should I meet but my friend Mark, waiting at a tram stop. Seeing him, and stopping for a chat while we waited for his tram to come, certainly blessed me (at the end of a slightly frustrating day, and on my way home to an empty house); and I hope it blessed him too.
Anyway, I like that out-look. It is open to the world, seen and unseen; not closed in on itself.
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