the aftermath of the cosmic bosh...

It's over. The work of another term is done, and the seven major projects, totalling more than 20,000 words are complete until I start again in late January 2009. It feels good to have finally reached the top of the mountain that is my third semester of theological study.

Over the past two weeks, I have noticed adrenalin knocking its way through my carefully mapped out schedule, forcing me to work at ridiculous hours of the morning, mostly because I could not sleep. Writing essays is a test of psychological as well as intellectual muscle, as I'm sure you can identify with. I've struggled on through, fighting "the wall". The worst thing is, just as you think you've crossed the line, then remember it needs a title page, stylistically correct footnotes and a detailed bibliography!

It's as if I were stumbling towards the top of the mountain, ring in hand, trying to avoid the enchantment gained from peering at its inscription. If essays are people then this one has definately been a conspirator. I set aside some time to work, and my laptop was locked away out of my reach for half a day. Then my only pen ran out. To cap it all, today I discovered that I had run out of plastic files to hand the essay in, in. And WH Smith had sold out. A divine conspiracy, some would say, but clearly someone in Ryman in the Arndale Shopping Centre likes me - I even managed to wangle student discount!

What puzzles me is the warring, aggressive spirit with which I have to approach essays in order to complete them. I don't understand it really, wish I did. The view of the painting is marvellous. I'm sure I "missed a bit". Thankfully his grace is sufficient for my mistakes. He sees the bigger picture; a busy market relaxing after a long day's trade. The storeholders are exhausted, the shoppers are ready to drop; I'm off to relax for a bit

eye in the sky

This evening my studies were disturbed by blue flashing lights and sirens. It was no revelation from God! Rather, as I struggled with the question of pre-existence, I noticed a helicopter was circling the bottom half of the estate where I lived. I was intrigued. From 30 minutes to an hour, the chopper engaged in a circular route around my house. I stopped working and gazed out my window for a few minutes, hoping I would get to see a chase. It passed off with a dissappointing finale, back at the dead end dilemma of whether or not Jesus existed before time.

Do you ever feel as if you are being watched? Sometimes this is exactly my fear. Don't be afraid! Embrace the reality that you are wonderfully and intimately known by someone so compassionate it would blow your mind if you realised how good he is.

love thy neighbour

We are no strangers to loss or theft. Three times in the past year and a bit, myself and my housemate Mark have been victims of theft. This time it was a securely locked up bike which was stolen from outside the eden office in Fitton Hill. As we opened the door at the end of youth club Mark, who had finished late at work, stepped outside to find his bike gone, the lock securely fastened around the bars of former police holding room for an office.

We both got home, I was dismayed, gutted for mark that life could be so cruel - to be a victim of crime again in such short space of time. He naturally felt persecuted - who wouldn't in his situation. Urban estates are fast moving places though.

Faith told me to leave the back gate open tonight, and not lock and bolt it as has become my custom, allowing a safe and anonymous back garden return. Common sense prevailed, but I still believed it would be returned overnight. We sent out a text with the description, and waited and watched a dodgy show on e4 about youtube clips! It's funny how you not only lose your appetite when bad things happen, but sometimes your taste as well.

At 10:10 this evening, our neighbour knocked on the door with a couple of his mates. And that wasn't all. Leaned against our garden wall was something that looked suspiciously familiar. "You've no idea what a mission we've been on to get that bike back", he told us, reliving the recovery story.

The words of Jesus ring in my ears: "love your neighbour as you love yourself" he teaches, after saying that the greatest commandment is to Love God. It's funny how sometimes the best person to teach you is not Jesus (don't burn me at the stake for that comment), but the lad who lives next door.

I have this immense sense of victory inside of me. Not my own, but one for the Kingdom of God.