Hope, track 7…

The street was alive with people. Old and young, male and female, everyone bustled about their daily business. The sheer busyness of the place was almost tangible, like a fog that hung in the air, blinding those below it to the existence of anything but the task in hand. The cacophony of sounds that is life in the city centre only served to add to the mayhem. Shop doors opened and closed, engines growled as the cars and buses flew past, ignorant of the pedestrians crossing the street… Snippets of conversations, cries of newspaper sellers, blaring of horns… This was it, this was life in the mainstream.

The man sat quietly in a recess in the wall. Though his legs stretched out into the street in front of him, he was in no danger of being trodden on. He often liked to think of this place as his home… after all, it was where he sat, where he slept, where he lived and breathed and hoped and dreamed. Yes, he liked to think of it as home. It made it easier to believe that the people purposefully walking by the kerbside were not avoiding him, but merely respecting his space. After all, he would never dream of taking a stroll through their living rooms, would he?

With his arm outstreched and his hand open, palm up, it was clear to see this vagabond had not washed in some time. His fingers were grubby and weathered, the rest of his hand hidden by a pair of worn fingerless black gloves. A green jacket hung on his narrow shoulders, over an old wollen jumper. His jeans were torn at the left knee, and had at one time been a bright blue. An old white pair of trainers and a red woollen hat completed his get-up, with his face placed his age as being somewhere mid-thirties. His scruff of a beard, existent more by lack of shaving equipment than an intentional accessory, was a dark ginger, contrastic starkly with his hat. His eyes, green as a fir tree in winter, now watched each person that hurried by, too busy to stop. He watched, trying to make eye contact, trying to catch someone off guard, trying to stir up within people that feeling of sympathy and guilt that wouldn’t let them just walk by and ignore him… though by this stage, it was clear to see from the vacant resignation in his gaze, that he had all but given up on these people. They wouldn’t stop for him, he knew. To them, he was no more than another homeless guy, another figure to be avoided on this busy street, another person worth less than the task at hand. You see, they just think he’s going to take their money and then go and spend it on dope…

A young woman dressed in a navy trouser suit hurried past with a briefcase, looking with great intensity at something across the street that seemed to have just caught her intention. The vagabond sighed slowly to himself. No, he thought, these people didn’t understand… how could they? In the busyness of day to day city centre life, one can’t afford the time to stop and consider the complexities of life of a homeless person… after all, everyone has their own life to lead, why stop and think about the life of another?

Time passed, almost as fast as the people. The vagabond continued to look out at his fellow inhabitants of the city, his mind contemplating that great unsolved phenomenon… So often these days, he found himself thinking about it, of how despite being in the middle of such a crowd, how huge the feeling of lonliness can become. So engrossed was he, in fact, in analysing his own seeming non-existence in this world, his own isolation in a world of company, that he didn’t notice the man who had stopped by his side. No, he didn’t notice him at all, not until the first words were spoken…

A thoroughly unremarkable individual in terms of appearance, this visitor had seemingly arrived from nowhere. Dressed in an ordinary pair of combat trousers and a green t-shirt, he crouched down beside the vagabond, and spoke softly in his ear. The surprise on the vagabond’s face was immediate, turning his head to view this new arrival in bewilderment. The visitor continued to speak, his smile beaming out from his face. Indeed, even his eyes betrayed the happiness he seemed to feel feel inside, shining out and seeming to laugh along with the words he was speaking. After a good number of minutes the visitor, still talking, saw the first few tears forming on the vagabond’s eyes. The look of shock had never left his face, almost as though it was a mask, an emotion frozen in time. The visitor stopped talking for a moment, knowing the vagabond was about to cut in…
“Why?” His gruff voice cracked a little, as the first tear rolled down his cheek, into the wiry strands of his beard… “Why? Look at me, can’t you see what I am, where I am? I lost my job, my family and friends have disowned me… God can’t love me. I’m a lost cause…”
He felt the hopelessness rising up within him once more… Unable to continue, he merely sobbed quietly into his hands. The visitor watched on, the compassion in his eyes so tangible it seemed to almost flow out of him… stretching out an arm, he placed a hand on the vagabond’s shoulder, and gently squeezed. He opened his mouth one final time, and spoke in the same soft, uplifting voice as before…
“Be at peace, my child… Salvation is here today.”

**************************************************

The street was alive with people. Old and young, male and female, everyone bustled about their daily business. The sheer busyness of the place was almost tangible, like a fog that hung in the air, blinding those below it to the existence of anything but the task in hand. The cacophony of sounds that is life in the city centre only served to add to the mayhem. Shop doors opened and closed, engines growled as the cars and buses flew past, ignorant of the pedestrians crossing the street… Snippets of conversations, cries of newspaper sellers, blaring of horns… This was it, this was life in the mainstream. But something was different, something had changed… people were stopping, turning around in the street. The homeless guy, the one everyone tried to ignore, the one who sat quietly in his recess day after day was standing up and shouting out to the world around him…

“Hallelujah!” he cried, “Hallelujah!” Tears were rolling down his face, as unhindered as his shouts. Looking around at the people stopping around him, he continued to call out…
“Hallelujah! Everyone, listen! This man, this man… There’s someone here you gotta meet! Someone you just gotta meet…”

He whirled around, pointing to where the visitor was stood. He looked once more into the face of his new friend, into those compassionate eyes. That same warm smile broke out on the visitor’s face one more time… and he was gone. The vagabond looked in amazement for a few seconds at the spot which had just been emptied of the visitor’s presence, before whirling around again, trying to see where he had disappeared to. Turning on the spot, looking wildly around himself, the crowd began to laugh. He looked up at them, unable to make out their faces now, his vision blurred by the tears still streaming down his face. He stumbled forward, into the crowd itself, still looking for the visitor. He barely noticied the jeers and taunts, the laughter of those around him as he pushed his way down the busy street. Eventually, the people around him continued about their business, losing interest in this clearly delusional man…

Onward he walked, looking around him, wiping away the tears with the sleeve of his jacket. As his vision cleared and he scanned the faces around him, he saw a young woman sitting on the ground, back against the window of a fast-food shop. She was well dressed, wearing a pair of blue designer jeans and expensive looking brown leather boots. Her red shirt was buttoned up just so far as to be a little revealing, and her long, straight black hair had obviously been styled. The vagabond watched as she pulled her knees in towards her, hugging her legs as she stared the the pavement before her. He saw the people hurry past her, not noticing the single tear escape her eye… sympathy welling up inside him, the realisation of all that had happened suddenly hit home. Abandoning his search for the visitor, the search he now knew was fruitless anyway, he walked up to the girl, taking a seat on the ground next to her. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, not until he spoke…

**************************************************

The street was alive with people. Old and young, male and female, everyone bustled about their daily business. The sheer busyness of the place was almost tangible, like a fog that hung in the air, blinding those below it to the existence of anything but the task in hand. The cacophony of sounds that is life in the city centre only served to add to the mayhem. Shop doors opened and closed, engines growled as the cars and buses flew past, ignorant of the pedestrians crossing the street… Snippets of conversations, cries of newspaper sellers, blaring of horns… This was it, this was life in the mainstream. But something was different, something had changed… people were stopping, turning around in the street. The homeless guy, the one everyone tried to ignore, the one who sat quietly in his recess day after day was standing up and shouting out to the world around him… and a girl was with him, some new friend he seemed to have found. The two of them were stood in the street, crying out to those around them…

“Hallelujah! Hallelujah! There’s someone here you we have found!”

**************************************************

The sun was setting as the vagabond walked down the gradual hill towards his destination. He said a little prayer, just to give thanks to God for the view which he beheld; the valley sides illumiunated by the tawny-orange hue of sunset. Not many people were still out and about at this time; in fact, save the vagabond and the man walking along beside him, not a single person was to be seen on this street…

“You’re right…” the vagabond’s companion spoke into the silence. “I don’t think anyone could have expected it… Some have dreamed of it, of course, have been desiring it and praying for it for as long as I can remember, but I doubt anyone woke up this morning and knew it would start today…”

The walked onward a little more, reaching the bottom of the hill and turning into a new street. The companion spoke once more, continuing his thread. “I’ve been praying for it myself, y’know… many nights I would sit in my room, looking out the window at the lights of this city… praying for revival to come…”

They turned in through a gateway, stopping at the door as the vagabond’s companion fumbled in his pocket for his key. The vagabond turned around, looking out at the street before him. The school on the other side of the street stood tall, blocking his view back up the hill they had just descended. Pulling out his keyring, the vagabond’s companion led the way into the house. “I’ll have the kettle on in a jiffy,” he said, gesturing the vagabond towards the sofa in the sitting room to the right. “By the way, I had meant to ask you earlier… The visitor you were telling me about, what exactly did he say to you? Did he tell you his name?”
The vagabond smiled as he moved towards the sofa. “His name… he told me it was Gabriel.”
The vagabond’s companion stopped midstep, halfway to the kitchen. He was well aware of the significance of that name… turning to face the vagabond, he asked again, “What did he say? What was his message?”
The vagabond’s smile broadened, and a laugh escaped his lips… He gave his new companion the answer he sought…

“Hope…”

The face in the window…

Alone, he sat, fingers hovering over the keys. He knew, of course, what he wanted to say… The words had already taken shape in his mind’s eye, already given themselves form and reason. He knew, knew all too well what it was he wished to complete this post with. But, as had happened so many times before, hesitation had taken hold. Its bony fingers grasped his wrists, holding them back from the keyboard with a steady but strong restraint…

Sighing, he swivelled around in his chair, turning to gaze out of the murky window. The first few beads of condensation began to form at it’s extremeties, mirroring the raindrops clinging to the other side. He barely noticed, however, focusing instead on the street below, beyond this current realm of his. It was deserted now, save a few parked cars and a cat taking shelter by the gates of the school opposite his house. Small streams flowed down the roadway, pouring themselves into the waiting drains. The puddles on the footpath shook and spat as each new raindrop crashed down upon them, sending the reflection of the dull amber streetlight dancing in all directions. Somewhere in the distance, the sky flashed, lighting up but for a moment the maze of clouds that swirled overhead. The thunder rumbled a few seconds later, a low menacing threat of more to come.

Mind churning, he turned away from the window once more. The glow of the computer screen cast a strange shadow across his face, witnessed by no one. Sighing once more, he paused the song that had been playing on repeat for the past ten minutes. The melody coming softly though his speakers halted abruptly, giving way to the gentle tapping of the raindrops outside. Throwing his arms nehind his head, he swivelled in his chair a second time, now facing the interior of his room. Bible verses and inspiring quotes adorned his walls, seeming to glow out at him in the light from his lamps. His guitar stood in its stand, standing guard in the corner of the room. A half finished book lay on his bedside table, sat open at the point he had reached the night before. And everywhere, everywhere, was the stillness. The rain pattered against the window like a metronome, as he contemplated the absolute stillness of his realm. The silenced music added now to the emptiness he perceived around him, the isolation he felt creeping into the edges of his mind…

His blog post forgotten, he turned again to the window, unable to face his room any longer. Turning his attention back to the street outside, his mind fought to shut out the lonliness that so often plagued him on these late nights. Silently, and unknown to him, the clock on his computer screen clocked forward by one digit. 2:34am.

What would one think, he found himself wondering, if they glanced up at my window as they walked past outside? It was foolish, he knew, to imagine anyone going for a walk in the rain at that time of night. But the question remained. They would see a face. They would see my face… but what would they think? Would they know I exist… I mean, really exist? Would they wonder about my story? Would they ponder over what makes me tick, how I live, what I feel and hope for and dream of? Or is that all that I would be… a face in the window…

Slowly, he turned back to his computer. It would do no good to start dealing with these thoughts tonight. Better to sleep, to rest, and face the new dawn with a new resolve. These feelings that come at night, they’re so much easier to ignore during the day… best to go to sleep, and speed it’s arrival…

His eyes focused on the screen in front of him. His own words shone back. This post would not be finished tonight, he knew. He could not write what he wanted to… it was not right to do so. He saved the post, to be finished another time, and shut down his computer. Turning off his lamps and closing the curtains, he lay down on his bed, allowing the steady drumming of the heavier oncoming rain to lull him off to sleep. How many other faces are at windows tonight? he wondered, as he drifted off into slumber. I wonder if anyone thinks of them too…

*********************************

Steadily, he paced through the wind blowing against him. Camera bag over his shoulder, tripod under his arm, and raincoat flapping around him, he made his way home along the road. The night hadn’t been a total waste - he had managed to get some pretty good snaps of the clouds before the rain simply became too heavy for him to risk soaking his camera any further. He pressed on, feeling the water from the puddles entering his shoes with every step… old trainers may be comfortable, but they have their downsides too. Passing by the school, he stole a glance up at his friends house. There, in the window, illuminated by the glow of a computer screen, sat his friend. It was hard to make out, the fog on the inside of the window reaching almost halfway to the top of the glass. Stopping, he considered calling his friend on his mobile, stopping for a cup of tea, having a chat… the late hour, he knew, would not necessarily be a problem. As he watched, however, the glow of the computer screen died, and the curtains closed. He turned away, and proceeded with his walk back to his own house. Better not to bother his friend if he was heading to bed - sleep is a valuable thing, they both knew that all too well. Still, he thought, it would have been nice to have a chat, to hear what his friend had been up to, share stories of the past few days… their chats were always something he looked forward to.

Walking on, the rain continued to pelt against him, and the wind began to strengthen. Lightning flashed once more, as he thought about his friend, the face in the window, and gave thanks for him. That face in the window, though he didn’t always know it, was a real blessing…

Interaction…

Ok. Something new. Something unexpected. Something that may well fall flat on its face, though I hope it doesn’t.

I’m looking for interaction from YOU. Yes, you. You, reading this blog, right now. I am looking for you to leave a comment to this post. And in that comment, I am asking you to say what the word ‘hope’ means to you. And I for one certainly hope you take me up on this challenge…

Thanks guys. Peace out.

flickr…

I’m gonna make a post soon about my thoughts on Morocco… but for now, check out my flickr for some snaps of the trip. Or rather, for about 15 of the 450…

Morocco part 3…

Very quick post here…

Currently in a city in Morocco which is actually owned by Spain, so technically I have left Morocco… but I won’t be home until Friday. So if you’re missing me, sorry, just a little longer…

Things have been good. Had a couple of shaky days there, but all in all things are going well. Getting ready to head out on a prayer walk here, so must dash. Just please continue to pray for everything I listed in the previous post, and also now particularly for energy, as we’re all starting to run a little low on reserves…

Thanks everyone, and see you all soon…

And special note for Connor, thank you for the spare memory card… I’d have been scundered without it…

Morocco part 2…

Well, I was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen, but here I am… I managed to get an internet connection here in Morocco!!

Things have been busy busy busy so far. On arriving we were met by our contacts, who took us to the town we stayed in (sorry if this is a little unspecific… if you want more details, ask me when I’m back…). We had a fantastic dinner of Tagine (DELICIOUS traditional moroccan meal) and took some quick photos before bed.  Accomodation was very nice, very warm and comfortable. Over the following 5 days we experienced local rural Moroccan life, including visiting the local markets and going mule trekking on the mountains! Learnt an awful lot about the culture and the people, some fantastic lessons and eye-opening experiences! (expect a post on this when I get back…)

Yesterday we travelled to Marrakesh, and spent the night there (VERY different culture than previous few days!) before spending most of today on a train to Fez. Had a walk around the city tonight, beautiful place… will be exploring the ‘old city’ tomorrow… I can’t wait! Many photos will be taken… never mind that I have taken over 250 already…

Some quick fun updates…
I managed to avoid sunburn altogether, except a bad burn on the back of my left hand, and on my earlobes!!
Discovered that yoghurt is a good substitute for aftersun cream
Have discovered that unflavoured water is infact tolerable
Have developed a liking for fresh orange juice in the mornings
Am missing friends and family a little
Loving the team here
Weather has been HOT!!!!!

And some prayer requests:
Encouragement and strength for the workers we have met out here
Wisdom and blessing for the people we have met out here
For the team, that we would continue to bond as well as we have done so thus far
For me, that I would rely more and more on God and focus less on myself
For our team leader, as he guides us and looks after us
For the country of Morocco, that God’s will would come to fruition in this place
For blessing for the people of this country in general - warm-hearted, generous, passionate people

Anyway, sorry if this is a little short or incoherant - must dash now! Will update when I can!

Morocco…

Well, I’m sitting at gate A14 at Dublin airport, waiting to be called onto the flight for Morocco. Things are good so far, good team bonding, and a lot of laughs. I saw an internet terminal as we were sitting waiting, so I thought I’d make a quick post as I realised I didn’t actually say I was leaving!!

Anyway, must shoot on now, they’re calling us on… quick post today… I’ll update on here when I can…

photos and thoughts…

My good friend James took me on a drive tonight to find a place where our view of the sky was not hindered by the city lights. It’s amazing, you know, just how much light pollution affects the night sky…

Anyway, the reason we went out was because a friend of mine had charged me with taking some photos of the night sky for him. So we set out at 3am to find a suitably dark area in the country somewhere. Eventually we found the perfect spot - the top of the Boghill road just outside Mallusk. We set up the tripod (during which i received a quite painful hand injury!) and took some photos of the stars. Using a shutter speed of 30 seconds, we got some quite nice shots, though it was difficult to get the focus right. After we were satisfied with the results of the sky shooting, we took a couple of shots down over the city lights as well, before heading back to Belfast.

Why tell you all this? Because heading back in the car, a rather interesting metaphor came upon me, and I wanted to record it on here so I will remember it. It struck me how often we pray to God, asking for answers, and wanting to see results right away, instantly. And after a while we grow tired of waiting, and stop looking for the answers. I found an interesting parallel to taking shots of the night sky - with a high shutter speed, you come away with a black photo, hardly any light was allowed into the camera before the shutter closed, sealing the image. However, with a low shutter speed (leaving the shutter open for longer), more light was allowed to flood in, resulting an a clear and beautiful image of the stars in the night sky. How often are we like the first example, the quick shutter speed, looking around for answers to our questions and giving up when we don’t see anything right away. We walk away feeling let down, or disheartened, because God “didn’t answer us”. However, if we were to have patience, hold on as long as it took, keep looking for answers, how much more would we see? How clear the image we would be left with… if we truely waited on GOD’S timing, and not our own.

I could even take this a step further, and look at how much light is let into the camera every second. Not very much, certainly not enough to make a clear image. But as the seconds tick by, the image builds up. Only the same amount of light is let in every second, but the effect of that light makes the image clearer and clearer with each passing second. In the same way, the longer and longer we hold out, actively seeking God, seeking His will, seeking answers, we may not feel like we are seeing more and more as time passes, BUT surely the fact that we are looking and looking and looking will build character and patience within us. The actively waiting on God’s timing will be producing in us a masterpiece of character that God is creating…

Yea, bit of a random post this… I guess the point is just to say to be patient. God will reveal things in His own time, if we are faithful to wait and to look…

new beginning…

New look… new post… new name… renewed focus……..

I don’t like the way my blogs have been becoming lately. So I’m making a fresh start… thankful for and learning from the past, and setting off once more. Lots has been changing lately. I’m coming to an end of my year on CU committee… it has been a fantastic experience, full of struggles and joys, challenges and banter… I’m really going to miss it. But, time moves on, and my time there is done. I am thankful for what has been, and will continue to learn from it for a long time to come, I’m sure. And new challenges wait ahead - currently I’m set to get more involved with Exodus (a discipleship and evangelistic organisation here in Northern Ireland) in heading up their visuals team at the new centre in Lisburn.

Really stopping to look back on it, I’m actually amazed at how much has changed over the past year. I never, ever thought I would be where I am now, with the experiences I now have. Man, I never even thought I would be 2 days away from setting off to work for two weeks in a country where Islam is the main religion! But here I am, about to head off to Morocco on Saturday with an organisation called Frontiers…

All of this has got me thinking, and I apologise if this seems disjointed (as all my posts lately seem to have been), about my faith. Just last night, a friend texted me to ask what my faith meant to me, how it was evidenced in my daily life. Seemingly they too have been soul searching, and their question spurred my thoughts onward. You see, lately, in thinking about who I am, what I have done, what I have seen, my faith… I seem to be moving from a place of reasoning and structured theology to a place of love, and (more plainly at this particular moment) of hope. Or maybe that’s not a fair comment to make… I still love discussion and the hashing out of theological ideas and theories, the striving to find answers to the hard questions… but lately, although still present, all that seems to have taken a back seat to issues of (for want of a more coherant phrase) hope. You see, in answering my friend’s question to me, I realised that my faith essentially boils down to three things. I have faith in God; that He exists, cares for me, and is working His will in my life. I have faith in Jesus; that He died for me, and is now risen and at the right hand of God, interceeding on my behalf. I have faith in the Spirit; as my friend and guide, nudging me always to face the right direction. I love those around me (or, at least, I try to - often I fail), I love my friends dearly, as I do my family. I try my best to love my enemies, and try my best to love myself. And, most aptly at this time in my life, I have a hope. I have a hope that God counts me as having worth, despite who I am and what I have done. I have hope that I am able to do GOOD while I am here. I have hope that God forgives me what I have done wrong. And I have hope that all I see in this world is not all that there is…

If I were more awake, I would look at that last paragraph and try to make it sound more coherent. But, once again, I find myself tired yet awake at around 4am. So I think I will conclude…

New look, new name. Renewed focus. Hope - I feel I have been led here. Certainly one or two of my more recent posts have been heading in this direction. My faith, at this time, is about hope. Hope and love, and striving after both.

And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.

yes, I’m aware this is confusing…

I should be alseep…

But I can’t sleep. I know why I can’t sleep, and that bothers me. Because the fact that I can’t sleep, and that fact that I know WHY I can’t sleep, should normally mean I can do something about it. But I can’t.

I love my friends.