Away

I'm in Paisley, just outside Glasgow for three days.   I'm doing a three day godly play training and accreditation course and it is good to be busy by day (10 hours each day at the training) and have a little bit of quiet evening space.  And, I'm already looking forward to heading home to my boys Tomorrow night.  But for now, I'm carrying my new bag (because you need a new bag for a trip away - right?) , getting uninterrupted sleep and enjoying some time with no one needing me to take them to the potty, find their favorite book, or fix a snack...  yep, another day will be just fine.

And the conference itself has been enjoyable.

Today, as we told the godly play stories, listened to them and I reflected on W.H. Vanstone's reflections on story in Fare Well in Christ, which is the book I brought along.  I've felt grateful for the way the particular in stories draws us into deeper truth than a statement can.  What a gift the imagination is as we seek to understand God and his world.

I loved reflecting on the Abraham story in a full godly play session.  Sarah laughed when she was told God's plan and often, I've thought about how it was a faithless response (and she was asked "Is anything impossible for God?"), but today I was imagining what her response could have been, or perhaps, what my response would have been.   Here was a woman who obviously longed for a child of her own.  She probably grew up assuming that she would have children and as the years passed she came to the painful realization that she could not have what she had expected and wanted.  When three men appeared out of the dessert and told her that she would have a child by that spring she laughed.   I don't think I would have been laughing - I think I might have told them off.  How could they give me any expectation that I might have a child?  It might have felt like a cruel joke.

I long to laugh when God's plans aren't my plans.  Now I know that there are laughs of malice and sarcasm that are unhelpful, but the fact Abraham and Sarah named their son after that laughter makes me believe that maybe it was an open laugh.  A laugh that was perhaps coming from a place that lacked faith, but also from a place that lacked bitterness.  A laugh of disbelief, but that perhaps led to even greater faith.  As our little family stands in a place of having no idea where we will be next I need that kind of laughter.