Tuesday 18 May 2010

Journalling

I read a blog http://weekendretreat.wordpress.com/ that introduced me to the idea of journaling (not sure if it's one or two 'L's though!)It is a way of putting down spiritual thoughts and ideas as a way of sorting things out and seeing God at work in your life, or keeping you in touch with Him when He seems to be a long way away.

I've never had a great faith - I've never experienced the great highs and lows that many people take to be the badge of Christianity. I am certainly nowhere near good enough to be classified among the saints! I suppose that once I made a decision to search for God, I was just 'comfortable' with Him.

I first came into contact with the spiritual realm in my mid-teens. My father was an intellectual atheist, who had written essays disproving God's existence on very logical grounds, so I had received no religious education other than what I got at school or Scouts. As a result I knew it was all rubbish!

I was in town one evening on a Scout-related activity, with a couple of friends when we came across a new coffee shop. We didn't hang around town very much, but this was definitely new. It appealed because it looked a bit run-down and, frankly, seedy! We poked our noses around the open door and were immediately welcomed in. It was seedy - small folding tables, similar to those we used at camp, adn ancient folding chairs. The lighting was quite subdued and the walls were covered with very average copies of 'Peanuts' cartoons. There was a bar opposite a small stage area with a couple of blokes singing to acoustic guitars. Live music! That was quite cool so we ventured a bit further in and stood a bit sheepishly taking it all in. Whatever it was, this was different to anywhere we normally hung out - the Wimpy or a pub, if we could get away with it. I saw a few 'Jesus is Love' slogans around the walls, so I was on my guard!

Suddenly the one thing that any hormonal teenage boy will respond to happened. We were spoken to by a beautiful girl! well, she was obviously older than us (she was about 19-20)but had long blonde hair and a lovely welcoming smile. She invited us to come and sit down, by which time we were powerless to refuse! She got us both a coffee - free! and we sat there listening to the singers.

When the act had finished, and they had a real LP for sale - they were real professional musicians! I was to find out that they were quite big names at the time (Malcolm & Alwyn), but I was impressed anyway.

There weren't too many people in there - a few tables were occupied by small groups - and we were largely left alone. I watched the people behind the bar - they were happy, smiling and enjoying what they were doing. Most of them were young, but there were one or two 'adults' there as well. I felt safe and comfortable there. There was no pressure to perform, or be something I wasn't. I had spent most of my life feeling like an outsider, different in some indefinable way from those around me. I never had many friends but that wasn't a problem, indeed it never has been, I enjoyed spending time on my own, often to the chagrin and distress of my parents! But in the One Way Inn (forget the Christian connotation - there were two entrances - the humour appealed to me) I felt that all that didn't matter.

My mate, John, went a few more times with me, but he was harder in his unbelief and stopped going quite quickly. I was fortunate that my parents were tolerant of me and I started going there quite regularly, and began to get to know the 'staff'. They told me that they had the building on a six-month lease, before it was converted into an estate agents, and they, as the youth group attached to the Parish Church, had decided to set up the coffee bar because they felt that there wasn't much for young people to do in Tonbridge.

I had started going there very shortly after it had opened, so by the end I was feeling like one of the 'team'. Although the musicians were all Christian, and sometimes there were talks by people - testimonies etc - no-one had challenged me about Jesus. He was just part of their lives and the ethos of the place.

There were a few scary moments when trouble loomed. The bar was just up the road from a fairly notorious Saturday night disco and on a few occasions lads from there would come in with a view to disrupting the place, but they were always met with smiles and invitations to take a seat, which usually led to their hasty exit. Having spent a good deal of time hanging around with a small 'gang' of Teddy Boys - mainly for the clothes and the music, (we never got into fights) - I recognised the main trouble-makers, skinheads to a man, and kept well out of the way during these incursions.

I was constantly impressed by the way they were met and it was the last of these that finally made me realise that there was something in this 'Jesus stuff'. One evening, towards the end of the tenure, I was in the Inn when another skinhead gang burst in. At the head of them was one of the most notorious hard-men in the town, well known to the Police and avoided by everyone. He led the way in and was obviusly looking for trouble - it's all he knew - but the Youth Group leader, John Lawrence, stepped forward to greet them with a smile. I can't remember the details, but the skinhead was shouting abuse and blasphemy at John, who stood his ground and asked them to either settle down or leave. The skinhead was losing his temper and I knew that wasn't good. He picked up one of the folding chairs and smashed it over John, who went down, his head bleeding. I was terrified but John looked up and said, quite calmly 'Jesus still loves you, you know, and I forgive you' (or words to that effect).

The yobs all turned and fled, the jeering only started when they were well away from the door, but as Rose and the others were tending to John, I began to realise that what he had done was not 'normal'. He should have legged it, or called the Police, not forgiven him. Maybe this Jesus had something going for Him! It was after that that I was invited to go along to the Youth Group meetings on Sunday nights.

God had me in His clutches and over the next years I tried desperately to get away! More to follow!