The walls had risen around them, so slowly they had not noticed. But now they felt it, the bricks of cynicism and self-doubt and confusion. And of drifting in a world cut loose from its moorings. And so they gathered to discuss a way out. Some offered theories and ideas, some suggested they push against the walls with everything they could muster. A few spoke of the invisible God. But this raised questions of responsibility and relationship. And people had painful baggage. It felt safer to avoid the possibility of disappointment. Plus they might be making fools of themselves. But a few continued with their requests. To go further than their own ideas and to take a courageous, small step of simple yet profound trust. To call out to the invisible God and to see where there might be a way forward. And so they did. And there was no spectacular moment, the walls did not crumble or explode. The sun did not suddenly rise on a new dawn. The bricks remained. Yet some felt as if their eyes were open in a new way. Some felt very little. Some were hopeful for the first time in years. And some of the bricks crumbled. Some of the group found the strength to remove a few of them. And some started to put windows in the walls, letting the light in.
I regularly post creative pieces which help folks connect with the Bible in a contemporary and down-to-earth way. Please feel free to make use of them if they inspire you. I also post daily short thoughts on Twitter and have produced a variety of books, most of which draw on the Bible.