This morning I tweeted. No surprise there.
Preparing for a solo morning in downtown Glasgow … freezing fog, grey, dreary. Will look for signs of God’s presence in a dreary day.
I had just completed my daily Bible reading and journaling and was heading off to downtown Glasgow. Linda chose to remain in the warmth of our room at the guest house so I was heading out into a deeply dreary morning, the fog was quite dense, and everyone walking by outside was bundled up like Eskimos (or Glaswegians, which of course, they are). Anyway, I was hoping to be observant enough to find something of God’s joyous presence in the midst of the grey (have I mentioned how much I really dislike grey – especially in February?).
A short walk brought me to Kelvinbridge station for the underground. A handful of people were waiting to board, none looking at anyone else or talking. The only noise was the building rush of air announcing the soon arrival of the still unseen train. Ah, a metaphor for the movement of God’s Spirit! Maybe we won’t see what God is doing all the time, but … OK. I found something of a sign of God.
At Buchanan Street Station, I joined the majority of people in disembarking. Having shared a few moments together on a train, we now went our various ways, some moving with purpose to their employment, some excited about shopping, and some, like me, with no real agenda. Directly behind me was a church with a sign announcing a 30 minute service on Wednesdays for workers on their lunch break. The doors were open, and inside this rather bland looking building was a light, airy, welcoming interior. Three volunteers welcomed me warmly and allowed me to look around. The small book shop was filled with solid volumes of theology and excellent commentaries. Their vision was to be a light house to the lost of the city. I almost wanted to return a few hours later to experience their 30 minute service. All in all, it seemed that they were a light in the grey.
I finally found my way to Princes Place, a unique shopping center inside a very old looking building. For those from Seattle, its similar to Pacific Place only a bit smaller, in a much older facade. Walking to the top floor I noticed a young girl, maybe five or six years old. She was sitting with her brother on open floor which serves as a performance platform for seasonal events and concerts. As I watched she shoo’d her brother off to her mother seated at a nearby cafe and immediately she took a ballet pose, taking care to put her arms in special places, and moved her feet around a couple times. Then she began to dance. She lost the ballet form quickly, but it didn’t really matter. She ran across the floor moving her arms in the air. She twirled brilliantly, and often. There may have been a jump or two. The music was in her head and I’m sure she was keeping perfect time. And in her mind there must have been crowds watching rather than her distracted mother and a lone American three floors up. Finally, after dancing her heart out she stopped, took her ballet pose again for several seconds, then with all the humility of a child, she bowed with a flourish, pumped her arms in the air and ran to her mother saying something like “did you see me?” And I had another reminder of God (Jesus did say a few things about children and the kingdom of God). This little one just danced for the pleasure of dancing. It didn’t matter that no one watched, that it was dark outside, or cold, or that she didn’t do everything perfect. She just danced.
And as I walked outside, the sun burst out almost as brilliant as it had been dreary minutes before. I’d like to think that it was because a little girl danced without concern and brought joy to an man’s heart as he watched. God is often in the little things.