Apologies for the lack of blogging since my new computer arrived. I've had a fairly busy week, and when I've not been busy I just haven't known what to write, so I haven't written anything.
Tonight I'm thinking about my cell group, the people in it, and the people I've left behind. You see, our cell group split a month ago; not in a falling-out kind of way, you understand, but in that the whole ethos behind the cell group structure is that when the group grows to a point where you feel it's too big, then it's time to split. And that's the point we've reached over the last six months or so.
I'd been in my old cell ever since it started, at the beginning of 2004, just a couple of months after I pitched up here. In that time it has been small, large, noisy, quiet, uncontrolable, passionate, painful, inspiring, encouraging, challenging and, most often, pants-wettingly funny. Many people have come and gone, but the spirit of the group has never changed - loving and serving God, building each other up, and having good times of fellowship and study together.
Over the course of 2007, the group swelled in numbers; by the end of the year we had about 15 people coming regularly, and since the start of this year even more people have joined. Which not only makes it difficult for everyone to feel their contribution is acknowledged, but is also just physically inconvenient in a very small lounge (our hosts had started unscrewing the lounge door from its hinges each week, as the door opened into the room and it was difficult for people to get out if they needed to get a drink or go to the loo or whatever if there were people sitting in front of it because every other bit of space in the room was being used). So it was announced that cell would be "multiplying" (we're not supposed to call it splitting, as that makes us sound like the Judean People's Front) and that the intention was that about a third of us would go off into the new cell. We were all asked to think and pray about which group we felt we wanted to go in, and I knew straight away that God was leading me to the new group.
The first month has been really good, and I've loved having the chance to get to know my "new" cell (most of them being people I've been in my old cell with for two or three years already) a bit better. But I've realised that I'm missing getting to spend so much time with some of the people who have stayed in the old cell who I've built up strong friendships with over the last few years. Yes, sometimes we still meet up and hang out and see each other at social things, and of course at church itself, but it's still been weird.
Now comes the other part of all this. Apart from the leaders of the old group, the only person who's been there since it started (now that I've left) is my friend Pete. And in a few weeks' time Pete is moving to London for work reasons too confusing to go into here. It's definitely God's will and we're all very excited for him, and yet I feel like I'm missing him already. I've had many good times hanging out with Pete, and he's given me lots of very wise and helpful advice when I've had issues to deal with. Not seeing him around will be very strange indeed.
And then I found out the other night that another friend from the old cell, Dave, is taking the opportunity to go to London in about a month's time. Initially he's planning to go for three months, and then depending on how things are going he'll either stay there or come back here. I suspect the former, but from a really selfish point of view I kind of hope the latter. Dave's honesty and openness are refreshing, and he's one of the funniest and most easygoing people I know. But this is a great opportunity for him to pursue his dreams, and challenge himself, and I think he needs that. That won't mean I won't miss him though.
And so it goes. The new cell is coming together with the excitement of fresh growth; while old friends are moving on to pastures new, their own fresh growth. Things start, and things end. It's like the circle of life.
On Thursday, I voted, and then in the evening I went bowling and had a curry with some of the lads from the youth group. Aside from that, I pretty much did nothing.
On Friday, I pretty much did nothing.
On Saturday, I pretty much did nothing.
On Sunday, I went to church in the morning and went to church in the evening, and inbetween pretty much did nothing.
Feeling that I'd kind of wasted my days off and my weekend, I decided I should do something today, even if it was something fairly minor like, say, going to the cinema. So I asked around some folks at church yesterday and had a little gang of people who said they might be interested. I arranged everything around what times most people were free and what film most people wanted to see.
It wasn't until I was on the train, on my way to the cinema, that I realised nobody else was coming apart from me.
Now I don't have a problem with going to see a film on my own, I've done it several times before and actually quite enjoy it. But by the time I got there this afternoon, I just wasn't in the mood. Of the six people who might have been coming, one was busy writing an essay for their course, one was just back from a trip to London and too tired, one was seeing their friend off who'd been visiting over the weekend, one had been working today and needed to get some things done at home, one had decided not to come because they didn't want to see the chosen film, and one had decided they would rather watch the snooker.
How rubbish.
So I spent some time umming and aahing about whether to go see the movie by myself or not, and eventually decided not to. So I wandered into town and quickly realised that, being a bank holiday, a lot of places were closed and the ones that were open were soon to close early. A bit bored, I figured I might as well come home; not fancying the walk from the train station, I got on a bus.
Then my friend K texted me to ask if there were any plans for after the movie, as she was free now. So I told her no one else had showed up and I was on my way home, and we hatched a plan to hang out and have a cup of tea. That then expanded into tea and Chinese takeaway and many laughs. It was nice because a little irrational part of my brain had been nagging at me earlier over the fact that no one had wanted to hang out with me (I know, most of the reasons given were perfectly adequate, though if I'm honest I'm a little pissed off at the snooker one), so it was really great to finish the weekend on a high note.
The other good thing about it was that it took my mind off tomorrow morning. In the three days I was at work last week, I worked my butt off to try to ensure everything that needed sorting out had been sorted out, and nothing had been missed. However, the last couple of times I've had a few days off, I've come back on my first morning to find my manager listing things that I've overlooked / not done / messed up etc, and I'm really hoping that this time I might actually have remembered everything and can go in and just pick up where I left off last week.
Also, before work tomorrow morning the holiday beard has to be removed. These days I tend to shave about two or three times a week, but since last Tuesday I haven't really seen much point. Now I'm very itchy and keen to have a smooth face again. It may not sound like a big thing, but in my head it easily becomes one.
But let's end on a positive - according to the five-day weather forecast, the rest of the week is going to be sunny and over 20 degrees. Enjoy it while you can - a week is about as much as we usually get for "British Summer Time".
Well, I'm back. I've bought myself a nice new computer, although I'm hoping at some point I might still be able to get the old one working again. But being an impatient type, having spent over a month without a 'puter, it was high time I got a new one, and fortunately I had just enough money to spare to do so.
So far it's all going well. The new computer's all shiny and excitng, althopught having said that, not having used Windows Vista before, I'm not particularly liking it so far, but maybe it'll grow on me. Otherwise, though, just the fact of being back online is good enough. This week is going to be quite busy, but I've got a couple of days off, so hopefully I'll have caught up with the world by the end of the week.
So, I arrived at Richard's to find the party in full swing but the man himself nowhere to be seen, apparently on the phone to someone. So I headed to the kitchen to deposit my beer and check out the selection of fine fancy dress outfits assembled (I went as "man who hasn't had time to find a costume", an outfit consisting of jeans and a black shirt). Just as I was getting chatting to a schoolgirl, Mick Jagger walked in. Well, it was a good job he had an inflatable microphone and guitar with him, as the mask actually made him look more like Maradona. Mick started to make conversation, but we couldn't understand a word he was saying, so he took his head off, and I recognised him immediately; it was Pat, another old friend from school who looks exactly the same as he did when we were 16, aside from having rather less hair.
After a while mingling with a ladybird, a posh pirate and Marilyn Monroe, the karaoke machine was produced and Pat found himself volunteered to start proceedings with a (possibly intentionally) hilarious massacre of MC Hammer's U Can't Touch This. Midway through proccedings, shortly after an ironically chosen rendition of I Believe I Can Fly courtesy of Superman, Richard finally appeared, in full Adam West-style Batman suit. He's not looking well - between the cancer and the chemo he's got very patchy clumps of hair and he's looking very skinny apart from a bloated stomach as a result of his condition, which he said was causing him to walk like a pregnant woman and thus giving him a bad back - but he seems to be coping really well with it all, or at least putting a very brave face on it. Obviously there were lots of people there who wanted to talk to him, but we had a chance to catch up a little and share a few laughs.
Once the enthusiasm for the karaoke had died down, I found myself being talked into having my face painted by the ladybird, so that I would at least have had some element of fancy dress with which to fit in. It's quite unnerving to have someone draw something on your face while you can't see it - especially when a passer-by has just suggested to your face painter that it would be very funny to draw genitalia on the unsuspecting victim - but I was pleased with the end result, a rather sad looking clown who appeared to have hit on hard times (well, I hadn't shaved, so I was clearly an out-of-work clown).
And then it was time for me to go. I found Richard again, said my goodbyes and told Richard that if he was up to it, we could try to arrange to meet up the next time I'm down this neck of the woods. I really really hope we can do it. And in the meantime, we'll keep in touch and I'll keep praying.
Thanks for the encouraging and helpful suggestions for what to say to Richard. After blogging the other night, I went back to facebook and noticed something I hadn't spotted before.
This Friday night, Richard is having a big party/get-together/drinking session, a chance to meet up with a lot of his friends and celebrate (if that's the right word). And, despite the years of non-contact, I've been invited. So I'm leaving work early on Friday and heading down to see Richard, reminisce and whatever else.
I've also just sent him a message to let him know I'm going, I'm looking forward to seeing him after far too long, and that I'm praying for him whether he likes it or not!
I'm on my housemate's computer again, and I had loads of quite fun and daft things I was looking forward to writing when I got a chance. But after checking facebook, I'm not feeling in a jovial kind of mood anymore.
As is the nature of facebook, sometimes I make friends with, or get invited to be friends with, people I used to know some time ago but haven't spoken to for ages. And, given the busy nature of life, even after becoming "friends" again, I don't always get round to talking to them for a long time. And that's what's happened with Richard. He was one of my best mates at school, but after we left I lost touch with him and almost everyone else I was at school with. A few months back, after I'd been virtually reunited with a few other old school friends, Richard sent me a friend invitation, I accepted and then... well, we haven't actually communicated since.
Then tonight, I read a note he wrote a couple of days ago, and another one he wrote more recently. Richard has been battling bowel cancer for the last year, and despite numerous courses of drugs and chemo, he has just found out the cancer is now inoperable. By all accounts, the doctors don't anticipate him living much longer.
When I read all this, I was lost for words. I've known someone younger than Richard who died from cancer, but I guess this was more shocking to me because I've known Richard for so long, but haven't spoken to him in such a long time. I've spent much of this evening trying to write a message to him, but I've given up because everything I can think to say looks patronising or trite or false when I type it. I feel a bit useless that I can't do anything to help, and can't even work out how to say that to him either. I'll pray for him, of course, but given that he's a committed atheist (he's written that he wants nothing religious in his funeral service), I'm not even sure how to tell him that. I just feel totally crap and useless about it all.
My computer, on the other hand, is thoroughly dead, hence the lack of any blogging or commenting in the last couple of weeks. I have much I'd love to share with you, but I don't want to waste all of my housemate's computer's battery, so I'll just have to try and remember it all when I'm up and running again.
So, in the last 96 hours, I have:
been to cell.
done a Monty Python double header (Life Of Brian and Holy Grail) at my mate Shelle's house.
been out for lunch and after-work drinks for a colleague's leaving do.
been to see Me Mate Dave and a few other folks I know playing an acoustic night at my local.
been to a wedding in Cambridgeshire.
planned and led youth at church this morning.
been treated to a roast dinner at S&D's place.
not had enough sleep.
Tomorrow I'm hoping to hang out with some friends who are over from the States for Ex-Housemate Dude's wedding next weekend.
You know some days you kind of wish you had more hours in your day to do all the things you don't have time to do, but you're also glad you don't because doing everything you're already doing is knackering enough and adding any more to the set-up would just be way too much?
Still, soon going to have a five-day weekend... just eight other days to go first.
And now, a round-up of the day's other news stories...
(steve, 9/03/2008 11:48 pm)
OK, so my friend's wedding yesterday was the main reason for visiting my parents. But over the weekend I have also achieved the following:
- Seen (and more importantly heard) my dad singing in a choral concert.
- Spent a bit of time with Tina and Spike, who were also visiting over the weekend.
- Enjoyed one of mum's Sunday lunches (the roast beef / Yorkshire pudding combo).
- Had some serious conversations about serious things.
- Been to the pub to catch up with some old friends, wherein I had some rather less serious conversations.
- Won two quid from a music quiz on the pub quiz machine, with the added satisfaction that the touchscreen allowed us to all have a go at punching Dr Fox in the face every time he appeared.
- Eaten too much.
- Read a whole two chapters of a book (this is actually quite an achievement for me, as I'm usually incapable of returning to a book after I've read the first chapter, even if I really enjoyed it and wanted to read more - I don't know why it is, I just don't get round to it).
- Bought some pants (as in the English meaning of "pants", not the American one).
All in all, a good weekend. Especially the Dr Fox-punching. I bet he never even went to medical school...
I'm back home this weekend for a friend's wedding. Well, when I say "back home" I actually mean "back where I grew up". It hasn't really felt like home for a few years now, and I think this weekend I've been realising why.
For one thing, the place has changed. When I was a kid, it was a nice, friendly village, and maybe it still is, but to me it doesn't feel that way anymore. The enormous (and poorly laid out) Tesco makes it feel more like an out-of-town shopping centre, and I just don't see that same sense of community spirit I remember from back in the day. Of course, this is only based on me coming here for maybe two or three weekends a year, so it may not be that accurate, but that's just how it feels.
The other thing, though, is that I've moved on. One of the things I love about Birmingham is the fact that there's so much there. If you want to go clubbing, go shopping, go to a museum, sit in a park, watch some sport, see a band, go for a pint or numerous other activities, there's somewhere on your doorstep where you can do that. The old village offers little in the way of entertainment (although shopping and drinking are noticable possibilities), and if I were to come back here permanently I would really miss that.
But coming back for a couple of days has been good, especially as I've been able to catch up with some people I haven't really hung out with in years. The wedding itself was great and very personal, with the groom's father (who was assistant minister at the church for a few years) conducting the service in his trademark laidback comical style. It was also the first wedding I've ever been to where the bride and groom played in their own worship band - for the last few songs the pianist was joined by the bride on vocals, the groom on drums, the best man on guitar and the groom's brother / chief usher on bass. After a seemingly endless round of photos (again, taken by a friend who's a keen photographer, rather than a hired-in type) we popped next door for the reception; a small and low-key affair, with all the food provided by people from church and some kindly volunteers serving it all. And the evening do, with another two mates DJing, was really fun too. The whole day just felt like a lovely family get-together - which, after all, is pretty much what a wedding should be.
What I think I've realised, then, is that while I'm never likely to come back and live here, I'm quite looking forward to visiting my friends around these parts. I don't miss the place, but I certainly miss a lot of the people. For me, that's the way community still exists here.
...and the other problem is, if you're an impatient "are we nearly there yet?" type in your journey with God, you may find yourself wanting to wrestle the steering wheel from Him and drive it yourself. Until, of course, you realise that you don't actually know where you're going.
I am not at work today, owing to a sleepless night of nasty tum and bum problems. And we'll leave it there.
In tribute to Arti's daffodil poem, and as a celebration of the arrival of spring and (belatedly) St David's Day, here is a beautiful poem about daffodils that I learned in childhood, courtesy of the late great Spike Milligan:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats aloft o'er dale and hills,
When all at once I came upon
My dog being sick on the daffodils.
Disclaimer: there now follows a particularly long and rambling (even by my usual standards) post. You may want to get a cup of tea before you start. Or, if you don't much fancy reading a long rambling post, I'll totally understand if you shut this now and go and do something else. Well, it's not so much that I'll understand, more that I won't know any different. So, those of you who are still reading - are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
I am slightly angry right now, as my stupid computer is messing me about a lot. I'm not sure if it's a connection problem, a battery problem or a bit of both, but basically the connection keeps being lost, which means the battery gets drained, and then the computer will suddenly switch itself off without warning. I'm monitoring the battery power level as I type, but that means if I suddenly see it's close to dying, I may end this post abruptly to save me from losing the whole thing, as happened the other night. Also, there seemed to be a problem a couple of minutes ago with lots of keystrokes not registering, (which could have been me, although it's not a problem I normally have) thus rendering much of what I was typing as unintelligible gibberish (which sounds more like my usual posting, I guess).
Anyway, I didn't come here to whinge about that, I was mainly coming here to share what God's been up to. The whole facebook fasting thing has been a bit more difficult the last couple of weeks, but I've realised in the last few days that God's been able to do some big stuff as a result. So here's a taster.
Long-time readers of this blog will know that, shortly after it started, I met Auntie Doris and we went out for a few months, before realising it wasn't really working out and going our seperate ways. Since then, my love life has not been mentioned around these parts, largely because I haven't really had one to speak of. Well, to cut a long story short: there was a girl I met some time back; we became friends; I really liked her and wanted to be more than friends; I became slightly less subtle in expressing this; and then a couple of weeks ago we had The Talk. That's what the post before last was about. Basically, she's told me she just wants to be friends, and as soon as we'd talked it all out and cleared the air, it was just like old times - all the tension and pressure was gone, and our friendship was back to how it was six months or so ago. I hadn't realised how much my feelings were getting in the way of our friendship, and I guess I always knew that ultimately I wanted us to remain friends no matter what happened.
So that leaves me happy, but a little confused. I'd really tried to consult God at every stage in this story, and yet it hadn't ended up the way I thought God had been planning. And now I'm asking Him again, what I should do next as regards relationship stuff, and it seems like the answer is: "Just sit and wait." It would be so tempting to just turn round to God and say, "OK, so if it's not her... who's next?" but that just wouldn't be helpful right now. Of course, that also makes it a really crap time to be going to three weddings in the next three weeks, and particularly when you have at least one mischievous couple looking to matchmake their single mates. But I'm just going to try not to stress about it, and just trust God as much as I can.
On a similar theme, both of my regular readers will be aware that about once every six months, I go through a phase of bemoaning being unsettled in my job but unsure of what to do about it. Well, this week I've hit that point again. I've said it before and I'll say it again - I've never felt like the stuff I'm doing now (at its most simple, sitting in an office shuffling paper) is what I'm going to be doing for the next forty years, or however long I'll have to keep working depending on what the retirement age is by that point. But I still don't really know what I'd rather do. I'd love to find something that I'm really passionate about, whereas at the moment what I'm doing largely falls into the category of, "I can do it, and it pays the bills, but it doesn't really excite me". So this week I've been talking to some people, and starting to pray it through again, and this morning I spoke to a very wise man at church who I really felt God had said I should talk to. This wise man prayed for me, and we felt God was saying that this is the start of a process, and in the same way that spring is starting to burst forth here in Britain, so God's getting started on bringing new things through. Which is exciting, but also a bit frustrating, because I know how I work and I'll just want it all to be sorted now. But of course, God doesn't work that way. So again, I just have to trust Him and hang on through this process, however long it takes, and remember that He understands my frustration and is there with me through it all.
Anything else I need to tell you? Oh yeah, I realised on Thursday that it was my half-birthday. Now half-birthdays haven't been relevant to me since I was about ten (or maybe ten-and-a-half) but somehow this year it's different. I know ultimately nothing much is going to have changed when I hit the big 3-0, and it's not actually that big a deal, but there's still something about it, culturally, that makes it seem like A Big Thing. I suppose the bottom line of it is - I'm kind of realising now that I won't have all the answers to everything I thought I would, but I know a man who does, and that's good enough.
And that's probably enough for now. Well done for making it all the way to here. I promise my next post will be much shorter, and hopefully involve less navel-gazing. Assuming the stupid computer doesn't switch itself off permanently...
Well, thanks to a combination of busy evenings, technical problems (my computer) and technical problems (Wibsite itself), I haven't been back to update you on the ankle, or indeed life in general. Well, the ankle is greatly improved - much less swollen, and the bruising is mostly either fading or changing from purple to yellow. I can put a little more weight on the ankle now and am down to only using one crutch; however, going up and down stairs is still a tricky and painful procedure.
I'm sure there was something else I was going to tell you, but I've forgotten it now. If I remember it and there are no techie difficulties at either end, I'll come back with it later.
K has sorted me out with some crutches from her hospital, which should come in very useful, seeing as how I'm sure I've been standing up too much today.
In related news, I am currently sitting with my foot up adorned with a packet of frozen veg, and Chez is serenading me with a song to the tune of the Spider-Man theme, entitled "Veggie-Foot".
Bad things about having a sprained ankle:
Trying to get up the stairs.
Trying to get into the shower.
Trying to get out of the shower.
Trying to get down the stairs.
Walking at about a third of my normal speed.
Feeling I'm in people's way.
Colleagues who do comedy limping as they walk past my desk.
Huge swelling of ankle.
Bright purple bruising all over foot.
Muscles in other leg aching from overuse.
Good things about having a sprained ankle:
Lots of sympathy.
Other people making cups of tea for you.
Kudos from colleagues for coming into work.
Free advice from an off duty physio.
Good-natured ribbing about the cause of the injury ("chasing after a woman, eh?!").
The swelling is nowhere near as big as it was yesterday, but my right foot is still about twice the size of my left. I'm being careful about not putting too much weight on it, and it has generally been much easier and less painful to get about today than it was yesterday. The bruising, however, is much worse than I was expecting. But K the physio has assured me it all looks quite nomal for this point in time, and it should all start to heal up OK in due course. And of course, when K heard that all this had come about because I was running to try and catch up with her... she laughed. Yeah, thanks for the sympathy there, mate...
So, no blogging for a whole week - maybe I've been having a boring time of it? Oh no, my friends, if anything I've had so much going on that there hasn't been much time to update. But there is much to tell you of the last week (well, a bit, anyway)...
Let's start with the whole facebook fasting business - I haven't cracked yet, although towards the end of the week I was quite tempted. Having a fairly busy week helped - if you only have an hour or so between getting home from work and going somewhere, you tend to find it easier to prioritise what does and doesn't need doing. A quarter of the way through Lent, and all is well on that score.
Much of my busyness last week was down to the usual church stuff, cell groups (adult and youth) and so on, but I did get to go for a nice evening out on Thursday. One of my friends had come up with a rather nifty plan to get a huge crowd of us together - married, single and all points inbetween - and go out for a big all-inclusive meal on Valentine's night, so the couples hoping for a romantic evening at their local tapas restaurant were instead confronted by a table of twenty making a nuisance of themselves. This was my first ever experience of both tapas and paella (I've had a sheltered upbringing, I know), and while I rather enjoyed them at the time, I was less enamoured with the bloated feeling and (readers of a nervous disposition, look away now) foul-smelling flatulence that woke me up around 2.20 in the morning. Still, overall, extremely good times.
There then followed a fairly chilled weekend, part of which was spent hanging out with our visitors. My housemate Chez has two brothers who both came to visit, and one brought his boyfriend along. The only problem is, Chez, her brothers and the boyfriend are all well over six foot tall, leaving 5'9" me feeling somewhat lowly when everybody stood up. After they'd gone on Sunday, I headed out to the cinema with some friends and saw There Will Be Blood, which I really enjoyed (although it's not an easy watch, and is very intense and heavy at times), then headed to the pub for a pint with Me Mate Dave before coming home.
And then there's today. It started like any other Monday - a feeling of, "oh, here we go again", reluctantly forcing myself up and out of the house. And then, on the way to the train station, the adventure started. As I was near the top of a road, I saw my friend K walk past the end; figuring I could catch her up before the pedestrian crossing round the corner, I put a sprint on. And then, after about three steps, I fell flat on my face. I don't know if there was some ice around or if my ankle just gave way, but it was very painful and hard to walk on. I weighed up whether to go to the doctor straight away or struggle on into work and, rightly or wrongly, went for the second option. Having limped to the station, I got on the train, then started to feel like I was going to black out as we arrived in town. I quickly got myself off the train and into a conveniently-placed waiting room, stuck my head between my knees for a couple of minutes, and then limped on manfully up a flight of steps, up a hill, down a ramp and across a courtyard into my office, wherein I removed my shoe and sock to assess the damage. It was even more swollen than I'd expected; it appeared to be at least twice its usual size. And it was really really bloody agonising by now.
I was packed off into the office rest room (not the same as a "restroom" in the American sense, this is more like a basic kitchen with some space to sit and relax during breaks) with my foot up on a table and a plentiful supply of water and paracetamol being passed my way. A couple of minutes later, my manager arrived and immediately decided I should head off to our nearest hospital to have it checked out. A taxi was sent for, and within a few minutes I was hobbling into A&E.
Well, to cut an already overlong story short, after much looking over and four x-rays, they came to the conclusion it's a particularly nasty sprain. Ibuprofen, ice and elevation are the order of the day. I phoned my manager, who suggested I should go home and rest it; I agreed, and then wondered how I was going to get home from the other side of town (walking was probably out of the question). Thanks to a self-employed friend, I was soon hopping about in my own house, negotiating all the suddenly-much-more-complicated things like getting up the stairs to the loo, actually using the loo, getting back down the stairs after using the loo, etc etc.
Anyways, I'll be trying to get myself in and out of work on the bus tomorrow (two minutes' walk from my house compared with fifteen for the train, and no steps to contend with on the way either), and all being well I should be back to normal - well, as normal as I've ever been - in two or three weeks. In the meantime, if you're in the Birmingham area and suddenly hear a pained "AAAAAAARRGGH!!", it's probably just me putting a little too much weight on the offending ankle. Oh what fun...
Well, I should probably update you on some things, starting of course with the whole facebook fast malarkey. It's been quite tough already, and in some ways it probably didn't help that I took advantage of the "Sundays off" nature of Lent yesterday, as now I've remembered what I was missing. But I'm determined to keep going with it. Hopefully this week, I'll manage to convert my non-facebook time into prayer and Bible reading and all that stuff I was intending to do with it, rather than just surfing other bits of the internet instead, which is pretty much what I ended up doing while I had some time off at the end of last week (I also got a MySpace page a few months ago, which I've barely looked at in weeks, but have suddenly found quite fascinating in the last few days, which wasn't really the idea, eh?). So hopefully it'll all go a bit better this week.
Not that I did a great deal with my time off, other than go to see my mate playing a gig in a pub (he was very good). But the weekend was much busier - drinks and a curry on Saturday, and a big lunch, a walk in the hills, drinks and a curry on Sunday. (Oh, and in case Alanis Morissette is reading this - not only were we not allowed to take a dog into a pub called The Dog, but we also parked outside a restaurant called Popular Tandoori House which had no customers inside. That's irony, love.)
And today? Well, I've been back to work, smashed a cup, walked around town for ages after work failing to buy a shirt, encouraged a friend, and then was reassured by one of my housemates that it was fine to have encouraged said friend without thinking about the ulterior motive I have in the whole process...
Anyway, time to go and not look at facebook... Ta-ra.
I've just seen an online advert offering "two for one on Valentine's cards". I never thought the bigamist market was that sustainable myself, but I guess it must be...
So, here we are, it's Lent again, and whereas in the past I've struggled to think what I could give up (most years I've either given up nothing, which was very easy indeed, or given up chocolate, which was much more difficult), I'm in no doubt this year. So, in just a few hours, I shall be giving up Facebook for Lent.
It's a no-brainer really. For all its usefulness for keeping in touch with people and the fun factor, I know I can all too easily waste hours sitting there seeing that nothing's happened, no one's online and nothing's changed since two minutes ago. So for the next seven weeks I'm going to aim to use those hours more productively.
Of course, my main aim for Lent will be using much of the non-Facebook time to spend with God, and to maybe read a book or two which could come in handy. However, I suspect that a side effect will be that I spend more time blogging stuff, whether it needs blogging or not.
So will I make it through? We shall see. I'm working on the western Christianity model of Lent, wherein the 40 days don't include Sundays, so I'll probably still spend a couple of hours on there each week - but at least that's a couple of hours per week, not per day, and it will be confined to a short space of time. Meanwhile, I suspect the biggest temptation is going to be checking my emails and seeing all those notifications that they send you - you know, "James sent you a message", "Laura invited you to an event", "Brian sneezed within three miles of you" and all that - and resisting the urge to go and investigate them straight away.
The thing is, just lately, it's felt a lot like God's doing some stuff with me, and that's been great. But it's also felt like I've been having trouble making time to actually spend with Him getting to grips with what He's doing and what I ought to do as a result. So hopefully that's all going to change.
Finally, rather than trying to explain all this at length on my Facebook page, I've just linked here - so if you're reading this for the first time, welcome to my blog. Put your feet up and make yourself at home. Please sign the guest book (i.e. click the number next to the question mark and leave a comment) or lurk to your heart's content. And maybe click the thing at the top that says, "powered by www.wibsite.com", and read some of the other stuff here. Or, just maybe, turn your computer off and go and do something else. That's kind of what I'm doing.
30 Going On 13 
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