Last week I shouted at Jesus... It wasn't some sort of pious lament or in a dramatic "Two Cathedrals" way (if you don't understand I can't explain)... I simply, in a moment of exasperation, blew my top at Jesus in one of his "distressing disguises" to use one of Mother Teresa's phrases... I have all sorts of excuses... I was beyond busy... I was tired... My blood sugars were all over the place... I was concerned about the "big things" in society, and was trying to organise a meeting to play a small part in addressing them... On the way into work I had taken a phone call about a serious pastoral issue concerning a member of the congregation. I had just come out of speaking at a meeting after dealing with a difficult staff issue that had been building up for months... And I still had to prepare for another potentially problematic meeting that night... And then someone whom I and others have been trying to help for some time, came to me
Dialogues, monologues, sketches, poems, rants, theological and liturgical bits and bobs and miscellaneous other verbal doodles...