Diary

A load of packages arrived today. And with the packages, a massive amount of unnecessary packaging.

So I got it ready for recycling, and took it out to the bins, and recycling was overflowing. The bins were overflowing.

And suddenly I felt unspeakably weary. I found myself thinking of all the ways we humans are being uncontrollably self destructive.

I won't weary you with the list. Especially on my mind, I guess, were all the plastics that are poisoning our oceans, and poisoning our water supply, and so poisoning us.

I could see us so clearly being smothered by all the garbage we are producing. Not just of the physical kind, but the moral and the emotional and the intellectual and the pseudo-spiritual spewing out of our mouths and our keyboards and our screens.

And for a while I could do nothing at all.

I began to get hassled by the thought of all the things I need to be doing. The lines I need to be writing, and the lines I need to be learning.

The lines I will speak this Sunday as the Angel comforting the women at Jesus' tomb with the news of the triumph of life over death.

Of the lines I will speak the following Sunday as Queen Jesus:

"For we all have a light. Deep deep inside us. No matter how much darkness there is in the world around us, no matter how much darkness there is in our lives: the light is still there, deep deep in the heart of us.

And our job is to bring it out and let it shine".

And before I knew it I was writing again.

And my weariness had gone.