Corners

GPS navigation systems don’t know everything, whatever we might think.  There’s a roundabout near my home that has four exits, albeit not evenly spaced; one goes into the town, one out, and the other two around it in opposite directions.  There is also the entrance to a private house which opens onto the roundabout at one of the larger spaces between the conventional exits.  SatNav shows this as a conventional five-exit roundabout.  And I’ve lost count of the presumably regular crossroads that I’ve driven up to, thinking as I approach that it’s only a T-junction.  Only when I’m right up to it can I see that it’s actually a staggered crossroads, and the ‘forward’ road is some distance either to the right or left.

Sometimes life itself seems to be a sequence of staggered junctions.  I well remember a friend and former colleague who, on the brink of moving to another part of the country, had to cancel all her plans because of a last minute glitch in the purchase of her new home.  Instead of bidding her a fond farewell, I found myself helping her to move from her now sold home to a short-term rent in another nearby town.  

Often, as life unfolds, one thing or another isn’t quite right.  When the right opening is there, we have other commitments; by the time we have released the necessary funds, the deadline for an investment opportunity has passed; or we may see the ideal vacancy ... but just don’t have the aptitude the advertiser is looking for.  I call it the polythene bag syndrome.  As you flatten one corner, a pocket of air bulges up at another corner; it seems it will never be completely flat. 

Somehow in life our skills and resources and the demands and openings for them never seem to match up perfectly.  We can only take heart from Paul’s words in the letter to the Romans, “All that happens to us is working for our good if we love God and are fitting into His plans.” (Rom. 8:28, Living Bible).

One advantage of the staggered junction is that we are able to see, at a more leisurely pace, two sides of that charming cottage on the corner, and its delightful garden, instead of just the front gate had we passed it by at speed on a straight road.

And talking of corner sites:

Do you know what's around the next corner for you?

Bellropes for Breakfast?

The butter was on the toast, but there was no marmalade; the jar had been emptied yesterday.  As I reached for a new one, I thought about what was on my plate.  On its own, toast is uninviting; buttered toast is far more appetising.  But toast with butter and a spread – be it jam, marmalade or something else – is complete.  With no spread, or no butter, it only partially satisfies.

The new jar popped open, and I wondered where this thought might lead me.  The obvious first analogy was the Trinity, the triune God at the very heart of our faith; but I quickly saw that this parallel is false.  This doctrine is an explanation of three facets of one Being, whereas the trinity on the breakfast plate is three totally separate items brought together to make a greater whole.

Some days later, with this problem still floating around my head, I found myself ‘on the end of a rope’, as I often put it.  As a bell-ringer, I’m familiar with ropes, their purpose, structure and strength, but rarely when ringing do I think of these things.  To use a comparison often used when teaching people to ring, I’m more concerned with steering the car than the construction of the engine!  But on this occasion, I was aware of the rope in my hands, and the fact that its strength is partly due to being made of three strands.

I recalled a sermon I’d heard at the wedding of a bell-ringer many years ago.  The priest had taken as his text “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” (Ecclesiastes 4:12).  He quoted this verse to make his talk personal to the couple before him and then broadened his theme using the three preceding verses.  It’s a fast-moving passage, embracing the financial benefits of working together, the helping and caring aspects of having a partner to look after you and the heating properties of sharing a bed, before moving on to introduce a third party.  In the context of the wedding, the trio were identified as husband, wife and God and, thereafter, the conclusion of the sermon was self-evident.

As ever in these pieces, I try to relate the everyday to the spiritual; today there are two links for you to latch on to.  Many in the western world begin the day with breakfast and, whether you have three or more cooked items on a plate, or buttered toast with some spread, I’m sure you can see the parallel with adding a divine Third Party to your normal consideration of teamwork.  And although there may be few bell-ringers reading this, many of you will have heard bells and have perhaps realised that many bells are sounded by means of pulling a rope ... often a rope of three strands!

Who’s the third party in your life?