When I'm In A Funk In The Twilight Zone

As I’m appreciating all the more, life is not about what we want and desire at any given time. I am appreciating that it is about flexing around the needs of others and being sensitive to the responsibility that vocation brings about in your life. So even when you don’t have your own ICT equipment, the world does not stop turning, your pregnant wife does not stop requiring your love and devotion, your children do not stop needing your paternal attention and care, your workplace does not stop requiring your services for the people that live and work there. Life goes on.

Ideally, left up to me, I’d be at me own home this evening merrily typing away at some inspiration that I’d want to turn into something or other, whilst listening to quality music and also having the girls scampering around to the music. We don’t live in an ideal world and as people know at such a crazy period as moving, the interim period can be a bind. So I find myself in that crazy twilight zone of having moved to Salford already – the vast majority of the earthly possessions of Christopher Dryden are now there. Yet my time at work in Stoke has not yet ended. So mentally, emotionally and in every other way I’m already up there busy thinking about to sort things out for the next step. Physically though I’m still here. Tough life, but someone’s got to live it because the pregnant wife, the children, the workplace, etc. don’t stop even if I want to!

Something that provides encouragement and motivation in this limbo period is good company. I’m blessed to have a Saviour who doesn’t just save to fly away, but saves and then settles within and through the Comforter I am not alone in limbo. So He keeps me going with promptings of opening up things that I didn’t see before when I considered even the most basic scriptures. For example did you know that the end of Genesis 2 defies the most basic thing we learn in mathematics? The implications of that are greater than just a maths quandary. Not only things like that, but he also gives me an insight into the kind of fun things that are ahead even if it would be challenging.

Good company takes you out of the funk you maybe in and keeps your eyes on the prize – that prize is the high calling in Christ, that prize is eternity with Him – no more moving, thank God!

For His Name’s Sake
Shalom
dmcd

When Good Neighbours Become Good Friends

I’m not sure what wisdom there is to help with the nature of your countenance on being awoken from some effort to get some kip. Are the fruit of the Spirit meant to be evident when you’ve been stirred from your slumbers by something of gross irrelevance and stupidity, even if that is just perceived? What are you like in those circumstances? Does the love of Christ just ooze from you naturally to those who have disturbed you?

No that’s not the theme of this post, but it’s a good way of getting some of those illusive questions of life off my chest.

So I was disturbed from my slumbers by some people who had responded to the wife’s ebay business, so they came to collect their loot. That’s not a problem, perfectly reasonable especially as there had been a prior arrangement agreed with the wife before this time. (Apparently, according to an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, if I should refer to Authrine as the wife again it maybe an indicator that we’re separated. That’s really funny. As in that kind of deduction, not being separated from Authrine. We’re not separated. We’re very much together.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, the people coming to collect their loot. Yeah, that’s fine, no problem with that, but then some other people turned up and asked what I perceived at the time in my recently awoken state to be irrelevant and stupid questions. My ire was not raised sufficiently to unleash the full force of Dryden sardonic wit and sarcasm in a dismissive manner to establish their gross inferiority at that time. I did however make it clear that there was no further room for conversation other than through monosyllaballic answers. (What do you mean monosyllaballic isn’t a word? What is it then?)

Taking the hint the perps in question did not stay long. It was as they were leaving and the ebay purchasers moved on that my wife chose that time to make her presence known – timing indeed worthy of her relatively new name – Dryden. (For if there is one thing I love with a passion is timing things in such a way that I avoid as much fuss as possible and just live in the tranquillity of the aftermath.) As she parked up, our next door neighbour was also at the door, perhaps her attention was taken with the moving carrying on. In any case, so there I was in the arched doorway where the next door neighbour could not see me, and there was the wife coming out of the car to see both her and me in our respective though next door archways.

Ever the recluse I took this as my hint to withdraw into the confines of my front room, whilst the wife engaged in conversation with our neighbour. On finally coming into the house my beloved partner of days shared the nature of the conversation and it acted as a spur to write this entry.

If you are unaware let me make it clear to you that followers of Jesus have challenges in various elements of the following. He often calls us to do things and be things that draw us out from ourselves into Himself. It differs from person to person. For me I’ve had tremendous challenges being a good neighbour. I have not overcome totally as yet, but I can see where over the last ten years I’ve made some progress in the area thanks to a lot of good influences like my wife, my church leader Hughie, my boss Danny and others.

Recently the local church was highlighting a series on Compassion 2009 and I had the privilege of going through some of the parables of Jesus and highlighting how compassion was at His source of the mission and ministry. I spent a month or two (one session a week, not every day of the month, although we probably could have done that) exploring the story of the Good Samaritan as found in Luke. Checking that whole episode in its immediate context and relating it to other significant things that God had been outlining since Cain knocked off his brother is highly revelatory for what the basics are in terms of loving your neighbour whether it is your enemy that’s suffering, or your next door neighbour.

Funnily enough at the same time I’d moved from one area of the city to another. You may recall I’d written copiously on the subject at the time. So as we settled down in the place where we are currently residing it was one of my desires to put this in action and show an active interest in the welfare of our neighbours. It was definitely a trip on the odd for me with my tendency to keep myself locked up and reading, writing or that kind of stuff. It’s not that I’m anti-social completely, as the friends I have can attest, I can be quite the conversationalist more than capable of banter. I am also very keen to develop relationships properly – not just based on projects and schemes that we’re doing together, but based on an interest in the person for who I discover them to be, and how I can likewise share my vulnerabilities with them. So the only barrier to me being a good neighbour has always been to take the initiative to engage with my neighbour.

In the six and a half years of married life to Authrine, it’s quite something to see how she naturally gravitates to being a good neighbour in building relationships with them and striking a knowing rapport as her retiring, reclusive husband hides himself behind another book. She has such an amiable spirit that on meeting her it’s difficult to take offense, unless you’re just ornery by nature.

So in terms of where we are at the moment I remember the key was down to doing something as simple as knocking on their front door to introduce myself. Talk about ice-breaker. (No we never played the game where you have to say three things about yourself with one of them being false and the other looking to see which one it is … although I might try that the next time we move … or not.) I believe the neighbours, for it is a married couple of whom I talk, were very happy to receive such a pleasant approach from their new neighbours.

I’m not going to unfold a tale of burgeoning love and devotion among us as neighbours, but we did get to know each other somewhat. Although it took us a remarkably long time to settle down, our neighbours were alright. One particular episode that stands out in the recollection of good times was one Sunday afternoon/evening. Authrine and I had stayed in a bit later than scheduled for whatever reason and we were just off to the COG facility to engage in another church session. Authrine’s car however had suffered from the dreaded dead battery. We looked to our neighbours for help and they came out and did their best with their vehicles to see if they could get the vehicle started. As it turned out they couldn’t, but it turned out to be a wonderful opportunity for the whole family to engage with the couple as we waited for the repair/recovery dudes to pop along.

I remember it as well because another neighbour from an area around the corner from where we lived also popped along and tried to help. What didn’t help the guy was that he was obviously more than familiar with alcohol and had a certain manner about him that others would have judged him on as a slovenly, suspicious, sinister, drunkard. I say that, because that’s usually my safe preference when encountering such characters. Thankfully on this occasion the compassion of Christ emerged in me to actually see this neighbour as another traveller on life’s journey who had a distinctive tale to tell. So with his mangy mutt I spent most of the rest of the evening getting to know him and share a little bit about love whilst engaging in his fascinating story and I’d like to think the brother felt all the better for a chance to have a decent conversation, and as well as that I thought he’d given me the protection of the area as he knew the crack of what went on. Funnily enough, our next door neighbour weren’t as forthcoming in being hospitable, but at least there was nothing offensive in their approach to relations.

That was just one of a number of quality episodes in getting to know our neighbours and getting on well with them. As a result I know a bit more about what it is to be a good neighbour both from the one who is being it as well one who is the recipient of it. It is good. It is godly. It is a good bridge to building relationships with those on our doorstep in the hope of shining the light of Christ through our characters so that they can have a view of it and possibly begin to share in the journey to Christ. I am aware that it costs, after all as any good relationship will testify, it is not about superficial matters on which good relations rest, it is on the costly acts of transparency, vulnerability, compassion and developing intimacy. That sort of stuff can get tricky from time to time, but ultimately when it’s lead by the source of all love, you cannot go wrong.

And now to live that further when we move on because as one prophet said that’s when good neighbours become good … friends. (Check this for more on the same lines.)

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd

Moving and Remaining

I think I’ve made it quite clear that moving sucks. Today has seen the majority of heavy goods moved from the old to the new. By today I include this late hour at which there’s still some bedding and drawer material to come.

Something happened in the moving process this evening that reminded me of so much of what makes moving what it is. There’s this huge box that we’re precariously carrying upstairs on the orders of the lady of the house and one false move means that the CD cabinet that was perched at the top of the box came tumbling down and with it came the clattering smash of tens of CD’s and the end of some CD cases. I couldn’t be bothered to check on the status of the CD collection – at this hour of night methodical precise note taking is not high up on the priority list. Thankfully I had long since done without CD’s anyway choosing just to download the tracks straight onto the hard-drive of the computer and listen to them from there. Yet it was still sad looking at the shattered pieces and broken cases that represented serious cash investments in their contents.

I looked on and thought to myself imagine all that money spent on something that could so easily be wiped away in an accident. All that effort, all those memories gone just like that. Then it got me thinking that life similarly is that precious and that fragile, so that however robust it may appear and durable there is an appointed time when one minute it’s there and the next it returns to the dust from which it came. So what’s the point, I thought. Well, the point of it all is to remind me of investing in things of eternal value. That doesn’t of course mean stop buying music CD’s. (Although funnily enough I haven’t bought a CD in years!) It does mean that whatever attachment and devotion is given to whatever we purchase or invest in has to be seriously considered in the light of eternity. If it is just a cheap, simple thing of little worth, then there is little point in investing in it. Yet if it is of value, if it is worth its weight in something far more costly than gold, then surely it is worth our pursuit, it is worth treasuring and holding dear.

In some cases such is its worth that careful attention to it will see that it has the capacity to last the test of time – and by test, I really do mean test. Further diligent attention will go on to show that not only will it last but it will continue to give more and more worth to ourselves and joy. Then from there other investments pale into insignificance in the light of that which is of eternal value.

I remember the time when I thought I’d lost almost ten years of hard work when my computer broke down with a possibly irreparable hard-drive. I remember the feeling of almost despair I had and then remembering Jesus. I recall a steady growing determination that said that actually knowing Jesus despite that significant loss, was of greater importance that made the loss shown in a different light. I have had times when I’ve almost lost my family, I’ve lost my job (on more than one occasion), I’ve lost my possibility of completing academic assignments, I’ve almost lost my life. In all this that which is of eternal value – Jesus Christ Himself – has remained ever present, ever loving, ever caring, ever gracious, ever patient, ever encouraging. It thus makes sense to have that desire to know Him more and find contentment, peace, identity, joy and stability in Him – even in trying times of transition.

For His Name's Sake
Shalom
dmcd

The Not So Little Hobo Keeps Moving On

Memories of television programmes are a blessing and a curse. It’s a curse in the sense that surely I should be able to remember something that was worth something to someone. It’s a blessing in the sense that I’m able to remember something was worth something to me. I’ve got to find out whatever happened to Terry Bush. He’s the fella responsible for the classic theme tune to The Littlest Hobo. That theme along with the Lonely Man theme linked to television series The Incredible Hulk, has really bugged me for at least the ten years.

So anyway I had some days of vacation outstanding before the end of the year (April to March) so I was excited to take a couple of days last week and Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of the week just gone to spend some quality time getting things straight in my head about what I wanted to get done in life. Tragically the two days were spent overcoming illness and then these three days have been spend helping my wife get over illness as well as preparing for a move. So not at all as I’d hoped, but that’s typical dmcd – make a plan, get excited about plan, plan no work out, and get to learn new stuff about God whilst grumbling about plan not working in classic Muttley fashion.

I’ve talked about moving before, but just to reiterate I hate moving. I like being settled in one place for an extended period of time. I’m sure you could psychoanalyse it from the trauma of moving from the first home of Minerva Way to Albert Road and going from sun shining days at the back to grim days along Mill Road. Whatever you want to put it down to there’s a distinct element of ‘oh no I have to pack up all the stuff and lug them into a suitable transport and then unpack them’ syndrome. Although my Dad showed me the ‘just-in-case’ mentality that ensures I don’t leave the house without at least a notepad and pen or a book of some sort to keep me occupied, he also showed me the concept of travelling lightly. I’m sure when they were packing to resettle in Jamaica it would have taken my Mum a day or so and it would have taken Dad half an hour. With all the moving I’ve been doing in the last ten years I often wish that I could be in Dad’s position.

So what’s the reason for this the umpteenth move? First it’s worth reminding yourself of my feelings on moving which also gives a history of the travails of dmcd. So here I am settled in Stoke (the area called Stoke, not the city in general which is referred to as Stoke-on-Trent) for nearly two years. I haven’t resided in the same location for two years since leaving home, so it was looking to be a time of celebration, perhaps I had settled. Perhaps this was it. We were comfortable with where we were, it was convenient for Deborah’s school, the location provided outlets for community engagement and it was brisk stroll to wherever I needed to get to. It was almost ideal in every way and so I was looking forward to finally settling in a property to bring up children in a settled environment and set my roots in a place. If you’ve been keeping up with my life, though, you’ll know that just when you think it’s safe to settle up pops another issue. So up it popped and having popped the only response was to take advantage of the new opportunity that arose and that called for moving! So before April begins we’ll be resettled in the tenth move I’ve made since moving up to Stoke-on-Trent almost ten years ago.

Again it’s a great opportunity to swallow stuff and reaffirm that I am only ever settled in my relationship with God through Jesus Christ. Through all the changing issues of life, changes in relationships, changes in social circumstances, changes in style and weight, I am only ever content in knowing Christ and being known by Him.

I am as ever in desperate need of your prayers (or positive thoughts if you cannot stretch that far). This is a good move for us in a number of ways despite the sadness of leaving this locality. I’m trusting to carry across some of the lessons learnt from the 20 months we’ve spent here in the area. With every move there’s been improvement in community engagement and I want that to continue where we go next. I also want our family to settle well in the area and to be a beacon to our area of the ups and downs, joys and challenges of family life in Christ. You should get the impression that if it was left up to me we would be moving to stay for at least five years so we can try this thing called laying down roots as our children blossom and we look for some sort of stability. Yet in as much as that’s the desire of my heart I don’t want to allow that to cloud my judgement and desire to please God first and foremost.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll try to settle down, until tomorrow I’ll just keep moving on.

For His Name's Sake
Shalom
dmcd

Moving Swiftly On

My sleeping habits lately have left quite a lot to be desired and here I am again late night blogging as if I’ve got nothing better to do like get some grub and curl up next to my beautiful wife and catch some sleep. Yet here I am. I enjoy writing and I enjoy blogging and I want to keep the rhythm going.

The reason for the lateness of tonight’s blogging takes some historical context. Before leaving home for university in the Autumn of 1996 I had not done packing and moving before. Our family had moved once since I was born but thankfully I was around 6 or 7 at the time so I wasn’t really going to give a helping hand with lifting the double bed, the fridge and the large television! Getting the stuff to leave for university was a bit of a chore, but thankfully there wasn’t that much stuff to bring, mostly my clothes and books.

Such was my time of accumulating junk during my time at university that subsequent moves from halls of residence to a private rented landlord back to other halls of residence proved to be more and more inconvenient as more awkward moves were required. By the time I got back to Wellingborough and then moved to London the car was heaving under the weight of stuff I had to take with me, but that was alright because when I moved that would be it right? Oh, no I’d move at least twice in the six months in London, but that’s okay because it’s not as though I’ll be doing any moving right?

It really got crazy when I moved to Stoke-on-Trent in 2000. In eight years I moved almost the equivalent to once every year. Now by this time what had been clothes and a few books now includes furniture. That would have been bad enough but during the time in Stoke-on-Trent there was the ever present danger of helping others move from one crib to another and the joy of seeing how on earth did that couch that is in the living room get there when it can’t fit through the door and how are we going to unscrew this large wardrobe and put it back together again when we get to wherever we’re going?

I’d like to tell you that because of all those experiences I have got used to moving and have made my peace with it as inevitable in the life I live. I’d like to tell you that but in doing so I would be a liar. I hate moving. I’ve hated moving since the clothes and a few books and I hate moving when it’s an awkward wardrobe and even worse long sofa. Absolutely, positively possess an unrelenting hatred for moving. Indeed nothing helps me to appreciate simple living more than carrying around a whole heap of stuff into the umpteenth home that I have to live in. I’d love it if I literally could just my backpack, slap the laptop in there, a few pieces of clothing, some important books and that would be me.

David Banner didn’t have it all bad being able to move around America with just a satchel of ever conveniently stretchy jeans and a top that will be shredded before his next stop is over. At least he could travel simple. Me on the other hand – three children, one wife who happens to be a woman which means tons of stuff, no not as bad as other women, but bad enough. Who’s packing that up? Who’s shifting it in whatever transport is available? Who’ll unpack it and leave it to the self-same wife who is a woman to sort out? No siree Jim-Bob I do not have any love left for moving – if it can be avoided I would avoid it.

Your word of encouragement may fall in line with the sentiment that it cannot be avoided and like a journey involving a hill I should just get over it. Thanks for those sentiments, they are really appreciated in as much as anything that isn’t appreciated is appreciated. So you can guess what I’ve been up to that leaves me still writing this blog entry way past 2am. A dear sister of the church has been on the move and so as to support her in that move muggins has been hooked into helping the process that from 9pm would only take two hours, right? (You should get the drift of where this is going) Despite all that I plod on with the help without grumbling or complaining because what I’m doing I do out of a love for God and a special part of the family.

One of the things that makes moving bearable is the camaraderie with others. Doing these kind of things with friends is a glorious expression of what happens when brothers get together and work on something – indeed as Col. Hannibal Smith said I love it when a plan comes together. Just like life, it has its moments which are not always enjoyable but I get the impression that God doesn’t always want me to enjoy the process, but enjoy Him during the process, which is expressed in the context of loving relationships. I know that there are more moves ahead, but I hope that they are in the company of good friends to help get through them.

For His Name's Sake
Shalom
dmcd