This morning’s zeph@10 is entitled, “You don’t have to like it…”
John here wishing the best of mornings to you. This is the Naseeb of blessed memory. All closed up. When you can, where will you eat out?
The Naseeb used to be my regular. Useful because they were always open, however late
it was when you got back to Bradford after gigging somewhere, cheap as, and in Asif’s golden days, as Greeny used to say, you didn’t need a menu, you could just point at the waiter’s once-white coat and say, “I’ll have one of them, please”
“You don’t have to like it…” but it’s time for an early song:
It was in the Naseeb that the subject matter of that song, Late Nights and Hard Conversations, was planted in my brain; here that Steve Brown, then just graduating (http://www.stevebrowncreative.com/ look him up later) took the front cover pic for the album, under pressure from Asif’s successor who knew better than Steve where to set the lighting; here where a uni student wore a chappati like a hat; here where Andrew Dennison left us to pay his bill; here where no-one was ever brave enough to go to the gents.
There’s a lot of my story in the Naseeb.
By the way, if you see a chalice in the picture, you are either already or are soon to be a vicar.
Songs, like stories come from everywhere. You can’t tell them when to come. The germs of ideas float in the air. As Stewart Henderson, ZephAssociate and poet points out, you see/ hear something, that becomes a memory and perhaps links to a memory of your own and then your imagination blends them together. The Gospel writers tapped into their own or someone else’s memories to write about scary moments, about how Jesus always seemed to have time for people (even though he’d run away to find some peace and quiet)
We don’t have to be writers—or Jesus— to have the ability to hear someone’s unwept tears. Thank God for that gift. “You don’t have to like it…”
There are times when you don’t want go there, and wish you weren’t hearing what you’re hearing – some of the things you see and hear, spoken or silent, are disturbing – but you are there to listen—and then you do have to respond, to do something with it. And that requires a judgement. Questions are not always best answered, doing nothing is always an option, but you may have to share the information gathered (see safeguarding). The writer (of songs, stories, sermons, assembly talks, zeph@10) is blessed to be able to shape it all into a story or song which not only helps the writer to process it, but also enables the issue to be discretely raised with many more people.
Thank God for those writers who have opened the eyes of your heart.
We all need somewhere to unload. To be as annoying as everyone else. Thank God that he is always there for us. Crack of dawn, early hours, across meal times; times when we would hesitate to burden our closest friends. He never slumbers or sleeps. You could read Psalm 42.
Thank God for his endless availability. Even when it seems that there’s no-one there.
Now go and be available for a needy world (after your tea/coffee), watching, listening, remembering and recycling it all. It’s what we’re called to do. “You don’t have to like it…”