saying 'No'

The week is running away from me!

But that's how it always seems to be, this time of year.

And I've learned to sort of pace myself accordingly.

Which sometimes means my simply saying 'No' to things.

That goes against the grain for me. But it's simply bringing realism to bear upon my life. I can't (and therefore won't attempt) to do just everything. I have to always prioritise. I have to figure out just who I'm going to see and what I'm going to do and how my time is spent. Because I simply can't do everything. I reckon even Jesus had to leave some people pretty disappointed by the choices that he made about his use of time.

There were things to do, first off, in consequence of the meeting that I had last night out at Kirkliston, for instance. Stuff to be scanned, files to be created, e-mails with attachments to be sent to all the members of the Nominating Committee out there.

It's a whole load easier, certainly, than doing it all by post. E-mail has advantages and makes for good communication. But it still takes time.

I was eager, as well, to get down to some further preparation for the services this coming Sunday. With an afternoon service on top of the usual two, there's all the more to be done in this regard. And I don't like being rushed!

I was pleased with the progress I made in that regard.

There were things to be done up town today as well. And that takes time! The traffic there is usually desperately slow. I generally walk up town, or get the bus. And though I took the car today, I think I might have been about as quick to go on foot!

Not that I mind being stuck in a car. It's always good for 'thinking time', for a bit of fresh reflection.

There was a meeting at night. The folk who head up the music here. We were meeting to chat things through a bit. Not a formal agenda as such. More a case of simply touching base.

I think the thing that struck me was how messy life can be.

I had a nice clean sheet for each of them with Sunday morning's service all set down. By the end of our time the sheet was a mess, a tangle of scribbled changes that we'd made. A picture, I thought, of the progress of God's work here.

One of the guys spilled his coffee all over the floor. One of the girls left her keys and her bag in the room, so I had to go back later on and let her in. Another little picture of the way it is.

Things are often messy in the progress of a work of God. (Including, as often as not, my desk). I have to learn to live with that.

There's always far, far more I'd want to do than really can be done. I have to learn to live with that as well. I don't get to tie up all the loose ends.

It isn't a tidy sitting room, the work of God. More like a factory floor.