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Thursday, 16 March 2017

Mud Puddle

Almost thirty years ago, I headed out one morning with my youngest, Doug, in a pushchair. He, the dog and I went down to the paint ball centre about a quarter mile away. Doug had just started walking, so when we turned down the rutted track I took him out of the pushchair so he could try out his legs. He toddled straight for a big mud puddle and pancaked straight into it, face first. 

Muddied and disappointed, he cried all the way home to be cleaned up.

This morning we were thinking about the human impact on God’s beautiful world: the way we humans are ruining the environment, rendering life unsustainable for one after another species of animal and plant, and the mess we make of relationships both intimate and global. Broken marriages, civil wars, terrorism and extremism, racism and misogyny: the list goes on. 

The human race has nosedived into a giant mud puddle and all we can do is cry out to God to pick us up and take us home and clean us off. When we look round our hurting world, ‘Lord, we don’t know what to do but, Lord, our eyes are on you.’ 

Jesus came to seek and save the lost. We’re here, Lord, in this big mud puddle.

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