Old Toys

 

Old toys.

For years, they’ve lain forgotten. These ones didn’t even make it back into the boxes with all the rest, where they’ve sat forlornly in the attic awaiting the delighted voice of a young child. These ones became mixed in with the various cars and dinosaurs and people and pirates which do come out when the grandkids come.

We separated them awhile ago, so we could reunite them with their teams, prepare them to sit again in the bleachers and watch an exciting match delivered by a kid.

Today, protected by bubble wrap, securely taped into a jiffy bag, they are on a journey to Bearsden to be reunited with their owner, whose wee boy is ready. Soon their wobbly bottoms will sit still, held in place by icing on the top of a 7-year-old’s cake. Soon after that, the rest of the set will reunite and the games will begin again.

Sometimes real people feel forgotten, feel overlooked, separated from those they love and far from where they belong. In the increasing alienation spawned by looking for one’s identity in the confusion of social media, isn’t it time to step back and simplify, to recognise or remind ourselves that the real truth lies not on line but in Jesus, who loves each one of us with an everlasting love, who created each of us to be just who we are, who never gives up on us and never leaves us to languish alone?

Alpha is starting tomorrow night at Banchory West Church, 7 pm for 7.30 free dinner, followed by a short, stimulating video and an opportunity to talk to others about the big questions of life. You can book online, or you can just show up.

None of us are old toys, discarded by a deity who got tired of us. We are all special to Jesus, and he’s ready to throw a real party for all who come to him.