Growth

"…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances."

Philippians 4:11 (NIV)

Last Sunday was a serious learning experience for me. As I was eager to attend a long anticipated women’s meeting in Birmingham I bought a "value return" train ticket from Bournemouth. Its cheapness indicated an elongated and meandering route involving multiple trains and 1.5 hrs extra journey time. Coupled with the bane of weekend travel – "engineering works" - roughly translated as service disruptions and re-routing through unimaginable places, it was literally a small price to pay, as it was a fraction of the normal fare (involving one train and a 3 hr journey) At 7.15 am, I parked at the Station and boarded the first of three trains. With just 8 minutes to spare, I caught my connecting train at Guilford. I changed again at Reading and found my third train, direct to Birmingham New Street, was delayed. As a result of my late arrival, I missed the end of the morning service at my ‘local’ church but I knew my meeting would finish at 5 pm, in plenty of time for me to make the 6 pm service.

As I was returning home about 1. 30 am, I decided to have a good sustaining lunch. I walked over to a Caribbean restaurant in the city centre, which opened at 2 pm. By 2.05 pm the "closed" sign remained and the crowd of three (waiting with me) were growing increasingly agitated. They had been waiting since 1.30 pm. Owing to my tight schedule, I called the restaurant, on my mobile phone to verify that they were in fact opening that day. "Yes – at 2 pm" was the reply! I informed my fellow diners, only to realise that they were the cook, the cleaner and the waiter…a few minutes later the owner arrived, with sincere apologies; his delay was caused by his keys being inadvertently locked in his car boot. The set lunch was excellent; peppery Jamaican vegetable soup followed by plantain, rice n peas and brown stew fish. (The waiter, mindful of my 3 pm meeting, ensured I was served promptly) By now, I was starting to "ease up a little" and reminded myself that I was in my own community operating on "Jamaica time" and not GMT. So I casually walked over to the meeting place and waited, and waited, and waited. After a few exploratory phone calls, a double espresso and more phone calls, the meeting started two hours later at 5 pm. The venue’s key holder had failed to deliver which created associated problems. Consequently, the meeting was effectively rescheduled for 5 pm – 7 pm (and it was productive) But I missed the evening service, which I had wanted to attend and was the main reason why I had chosen to return home on the last train, via London Euston (with a journey time of 5.5 hrs)

Undaunted and in my reserved seat, the train left the station on time. Then I entered the twilight zone. About an hour later, it stopped at Rugby station. A "security related event" down the line necessitated the closure of a key station. Evicted from our comfortable seats, we were crammed into a crowded train on the opposite platform. After standing for two hours, on the slowest train imaginable, the police reopened the station and we eventually arrived at Euston at 11.30 pm. Having missed my connecting train to Bournemouth, I queued for 40 minutes at Customer Services to collect a taxi waver for the rest of my journey. Then around midnight, on platform 15, I joined a snaking loop of hundreds of fellow travelers; all clutching taxi wavers. For several hours, we shuffled along the platform, towards the arriving taxis. A "train agent" did his utmost to maximise the use of the taxis, by grouping travelers together. He would canvass the line to gather people heading in a similar direction. He shouted "Southampton" and I yelled "Bournemouth". He ignored me. Did he not know Southampton is en route to Bournemouth? He shouted ‘South coast’ I shouted ‘ Bournemouth’ – again. he ignored me. I was beginning to wonder if he knew where Bournemouth was. This happened several times, to my dismay. Four hours later, having thankfully been well fed and watered by the train company, I was at the front of the queue; it was my turn. The agent approached me, I repeated my destination and handed over my taxi waver, marked Bournemouth. "Oh I thought you were joking" - he said. In disbelief, I replied "why would I?" He was speechless. I had queued an extra two hours unnecessarily because he thought I was making a joke of where I needed to go. What was humorous about being stranded in central London, in the early hours of the morning? No one else was seeing a funny side to the situation. No one was rolling around on the railway tracks laughing themselves silly. There was no comic banter as we stood, literally for hours. People were concerned about getting home to families and friends, of the consequences of losing a night’s sleep, of getting to work on time and making travel connections

Was the train’s agent a serious misjudge of character and situations; misinterpreting a non-complaining attitude as humour? Or was it racial stereotyping; did he think that people like me did not live in white middle class areas like Bournemouth? Perhaps to him, in the half-light, I looked like a "yardie" from Brixton? Just that day, a Sunday newspaper had the headline - "Are we sleepwalking towards Apartheid?" where the Chairman of the Commission for Racial Equality warned of racial segregation "going the way of New Orleans" and the creation of "black holes into which nobody goes without fear and from which nobody escapes undamaged"…through the concentration of ethnic minorities in "ghettoes"’ fuelled by misguided notions of multiculturalism. Whilst my response to his "analysis" would be voluminous, suffice to say, people of African descent, living and working in predominantly white communities, raises relevant issues too. Meanwhile on platform 15, I was directed sheepishly into a taxi with only one other (going to Chiswick). After a pleasant journey of 112 miles and £292.20 on the meter I arrived at Bournemouth station to find my car unclamped (I was so relieved) and was finally home by 6.45 am.

In the heat of many moments, it is understandable that we "spiritualise" our experiences by asking "Why God?" or "What is God telling us in this situation?" Often we see difficulties as God directed; God’s way of telling us a door is closing and that we should move on to other possibilities. But sometimes, we need to consider our own responsibility in contributing to negative experiences. Sometimes, we just need to be more realistic or better organised or to take things at face value and to learn from events that try our patience. More importantly, we may need not to cut corners on ourselves and to give ourselves the best (and to misquote an advertising slogan) ‘’Because we are worth it’ – God is not here to frustrate us but to challenge us, to enable our growth as people open to possibilities.

"Do not be conformed to this world (this age), [fashioned after and adapted to its external, superficial customs], but be transformed (changed) by the [entire] renewal of your mind [by its new ideals and its new attitude], so that you may prove [for yourselves] what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God, even the thing which is good and acceptable and perfect [in His sight for you]." - Romans 12:2 (Ampl.)

May the Holy Spirit of God, provide you with experiences that make you grow.

Be open!

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