On the way to work, I saw an empty chocolate wrapper on the floor. This triggered a number of thoughts, which led to the question, “Why don’t we call double-decker buses, bunk buses instead?” It’s a much more efficient form of communication, and you still get an alliteration. The space-saving principle is the same as with bunk beds too. My latent linguistic powers are obviously strongest before nine o’clock.
No massive dramas happened at work, but I was in constant, low-level bewilderment that I was surviving from one moment to the next, with no real cause for alarm. Managed to spend about three hours not relaxing with Holyspirit before the revelation started flowing.
People seem so fixated on discovering their calling, but I think that’s a largely irrelevant and time wasting question. I was thinking that I listen to music way more than playing, even on my own, but worship is one of the most visible ways I serve the church. But you have to die to your calling before you can really grasp it.
It says in Philippians that Jesus didn’t consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; he made himself nothing by taking a servant’s nature. He humbled himself by becoming obedient to death. Basically, Jesus had mad skills, but was more obsessed with helping others than building his own reputation.