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Intimacy, mystery and pain

I have been praying for friends whose Christian journeys are particularly tough right now. And I am reminded again of the mystery and intimacy of God, and the strangeness of the Christian journey.

In the early days of Christianity, its adherents were known as 'Followers of the Way', and that is (or ought to be) our experience - that we are on a journey. We're not entirely sure where we're going - indeed, I'm not sure that the destination is important - the journey is the important part.

Christianity has to be lived; the journey has to be undertaken to comprehend what it's about. Without setting your feet upon the way, you cannot truly begin to understand it. Seeing it from the outside is not to experience it; you can only do that by setting foot on the road.

As I journey along this road - sometimes steep, rocky and perilous; at other times flat, smooth and safe - I become more aware of God's constant presence alongside me.

I have also gradually become more aware of His 'otherness' - how utterly sublime and incomprehensible He is... But if I could understand Him, He would not be God - He would be a construct, an idol of my own making. He is mystery. He is too 'other' to comprehend.

Rejoicing Again

I’ve found it really hard to write this post - it’s been ‘gestating’ for days, but I just couldn’t figure out how to say what I wanted to say - or how much to say. Some of what’s happened lately has been quite emotional. That doesn’t usually stop me, as long-term followers of this blog know only too well, but this time it’s very personal and precious, and I wasn’t sure how much of it, if any, I was prepared to share with the wider world.

A couple of weeks ago, we went on holiday to Scotland. We rented a little cottage near to Pitlochry, and spent a very relaxing week. One thing I was looking forward to was the possibility of meeting up with Izzy, who doesn't live too far away.

My mobile phone rang at 7:30am on Thursday morning, waking me up.

Izzy!!

She was full of apologies for waking me, but hey - after 33 years, I wouldn't have cared if she'd rung at 3:00am! It was lovely to talk to her. The long and short of the conversation was whether would we like to extend our holiday by one night, and stay at her house?

Copyright Phil Hendry, 2016