I've just had the perfectest cup of tea in a fortnight, and the fact is sufficiently noteworthy to be recorded. It was the culmination of gradual steps; using filtered water in the kettle for the first time, finding some Earl Grey teabags of dubious origin but surprisingly good flavour, and adding a spot of low-fat moloko (the only milk that keeps). There was one mug here when I moved in, and I haven't found any others despite scouring bazaars for them. It has a dreadful artless picture of a dalmatian chasing butterflies on it, but it's the right size and shape for tea-drinking. I understand that a teapot is in transit, which I await with dreadful anticipation, for it is a brave undertaking, to send such a precious thing from Australia to Kyrgyzstan.
I asked an older Scottish lady today whether she felt that teaching was her God-given vocation. I asked, because despite coming here in that capacity, I still don't feel particularly gifted or called to it. She's been a teacher for nearly thirty years, both in Scotland and in Bishkek; but she said, No: she said, My vocation is simply to be, wherever I am - to form relationships, to love and serve people, to grow in the knowledge and love of God. I sat there in her kitchen, three stories high, overlooking a snow-covered playground, eating chops, and understood that this was my heart's calling, too, and that teaching was not that end, but merely a means of achieving it.
The sermon this morning was on Mark 2:1-12 - Jesus forgiving and healing a paralysed man. It was a very good sermon, and in amongst many good points was this child's truth: when Jesus died for sins, it was once and for all. One time, for all sins.
I struggle with this. Guilt is the monkey on my back (or one of them; he jostles with his brother, Pride). I'm gifted at guilt; I'd have made a good Catholic, atoning eternally for my imperfections. Pebbles in my shoe, hairshirt on my back, six hours at confession. Luther at Erfert.
It's a child's truth and it's the grandest truth in the universe: I am forgiven, once and for all. The sinful thoughts, words and deeds of last week are confessed; if God flung them as far away as the east is from the west - which, having travelled extensively in recent weeks, I know to be some distance - I can rest easy. There is no guilt and no condemnation in Jesus, who knows my heart better than I, and still loves me more perfectly than I can comprehend.
Monkey, begone. What have I to do with thee? I belong to my Redeemer. And I've just had a very nice cup of tea.
Tea. Tea! What a wonderful gift it is. When in doom and despair in hospital after the birth of my second child, I remember getting to the end of myself one morning around 3 am. I was not well. The baby was not feeding well. No one seemed to know what to do. I couldn't face another round of treatment. Right, I said to myself, it's time to do the only thing that is left and what has always been done when facing a problem one can't begin to unravel. I stomped off down the hall to find a tea room. The nurse came in to find me sitting by my bed, sipping my tea. I think she thought I'd finally gone mad. But it does help. Even if only for a short time. Alas, this seems a rather silly comment.
ReplyDeleteAnd all that rambling was really to say I went to work today and you weren't there and I missed you. And I drank tea there too. And I wondered if this will be the year when they finally work out I'm completely incompetent! Let's hope not.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to hear you ramble! I'm with you completely on the healing properties of a good cup of tea, which is a profound rather than a silly thought. I very much hope that you'll enjoy being back at school, and am sorry that I miss the opportunity of working with you...by the time I come back you'll be Assistant Principal or some such thing, no doubt :) xx
ReplyDelete