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District Ministries Panel Secretary

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December
Advice
I Love You

November
38. Bald is beautiful
37. Fire
36 Sleep
35 Music

October 2006
34. Stupidity
33. Painting
32. mmm Pasties
31. Built to last
30. Phlegm

September 2006
29. Meetings
28. Crime thoughts
27. Colours
26. Unwanted guests

August 2006
25. Comparison
24. Waterproof Mascara
23. Tasty MSG
22. Helplessness

July 2006
21. Attraction
20. Hair
19. Hero
18. Laughter
17. Factoids

June 2006
16. Voiceless
15. Bruises (ouch)
14. Sunburn
13. Mistakes

May 2006
12. Arms
11. Willow Tree
10. Eurovision
9. Chicken
8. Addictions
 

April 2006
7. Age
6. Celebrities
5. Language

March 2006
4. Commonwealth Games
3. Decisions
2. Drizzle
1. Trelawney

Waterproof Mascara

 Travis could have been singing out me when they warbled “Why does it always rain on me?” (although, being the perfect Christian that I am, I have never lied, even when I was 17! No idea what I’m talking about? – listen to the song!) Anyway, back to the raining on me – it seems that lately a rain cloud has been permanently positioned overhead. Not in a metaphorical way referring to depression or a bad mood, but in a literal way with real, wet raindrops falling on my head. There have been 2 major incidents recently which have left me the wettest I’ve ever been with clothes on – this doesn’t include the drenching I got in Blackpool by some cheeky young people with water bottles – you know who you are!

The first incident was in York when I was with friends in the city centre. There we were relaxing in a park when the glorious sunshine became an overcast darkness. We took the hint and headed back to my friend’s house. “Lets take the scenic route” he suggested, extending the 20 minute walk into what seemed like hours. This wouldn’t have been too bad had the overcastness not turned to drizzle and then into torrential rain accompanied by thunder and lightening! Our clothes got wet. Our underwear got wet. Our entire skin got wet, and it wouldn’t surprise me if our internal organs got a little damp too! Oh, and my mascara attractively spread all down my face – how so little can spread so far when wet, I’ll never know!

 The second occasion was on a recent trip to prison. Two of us had gone for a special service in the prison, and had arrived in fine weather. Unknown to us the prison chapel was only reached via a walk outside, through a security gate and then another security door. During the time taken to be x-rayed, searched and made to feel guilty (automatic reaction around police and prison guards, although as previously stated, I’m perfect so the guilt is completely irrational! No really!) it had started to rain, and boy was the rain heavy. We stood by the door waiting for it to ease off, until we could wait no more. Unfortunately neither of us had a coat or umbrella, and equally unfortunately we were following an elderly bloke who could only shuffle – although he had the luxury of a brolly to shuffle under!

 By the time we reached the security gate I was wet and starting to shiver, but at this point I didn’t realise what was to come. It seemed that the torrential rain experienced in Wakefield had all congregated in one corner of the prison yard – the corner which we were heading for! So in order to reach the security door we had to roll up our trousers and paddle – man was I glad I had worn flip-flops! But spare a thought for the men folk who had to wade in socks and shoes firmly on their feet! He he he! By the time we reached the chapel we were drenched, my wool jumper had stretched beyond belief (revealing more of my body than was appropriate in a men’s prison!) and my mascara was on my chin!

 As I sat there, freezing cold, soaked to the skin and totally bedraggled next to a bloke incarcerated in a maximum security prison (therefore he’d done something fairly sinister to deserve his current surroundings), as the rains continued to fall causing the chapel to flood (honestly – I couldn’t make this stuff up!) and as I vowed to buy waterproof mascara from now on, I had a moment of clarity.

We need rain in order for us to function (just look at countries deprived of the wet stuff) and yet when it comes we run from it, resent it from falling and shelter to avoid it. All God wants to do is to shower His blessings upon us, to drench us in His love. yet so often we can find ourselves avoiding it, hiding from it, even resenting it – ‘who am I to receive this gift from God, given so freely, lavished upon me so generously? I don’t deserve it!’

I don’t know what that prisoner had done but I realised that I don’t deserve any more from God than he does, just because I’m not in prison, nor does he deserve any less. The rain doesn’t pinpoint a location it wants to fall on, and God doesn’t pick and choose who He wants to love, with the best people at the top of the list. In fact none of us deserve it, but all of us can receive it. So let’s stop running from it but instead let’s stop and get absolutely drenched in God’s love and grace, let’s experience the freedom of being washed clean, and let’s get so wet in fact that everything we say and do also becomes soaked in the love of God. Oh and take my advice, when around me, invest in waterproof mascara!