When you wish you could’ve been somewhere else
Life is generally a bit ‘odd’ at present. Everything feels very new – settling into a new house, a new rhythm with the family, trying to find a level of discipline personally when there isn’t a job to run your days, waiting for term to start, trying to manage that process and discover so much new there, trying to manage our old house and make sure the new tenants are okay for us new landlords.
Everything else has been put on hold to cope with all this change. We didn’t go with our church to New Wine this Summer – save the trip earlier in the year to Northumberland, we’ve been nowhere at all. Catching up on some favourite blogs tonight, I came across one place I would definitely like to have been.
Greenbelt in years gone by has always struck me as the Christian festival inhabited by the mad, the bad and the sad… a bit flaky, a bit well dodgy. Like so much of my theology and Christian walk in the last 18 months, I find myself affiliating more naturally with those I had previously written off. No doubt a good thing, certainly a humbling one. Many people who I respect and have come to know (to varying degrees) all seem to have been down at “GB” and I am sorry to have missed it.
In particular, I would have loved to have been in the tent with Paul Roberts when this happened.