Daddy's Boy?

Strange things happen on buses. I was on my way to Angel Tube Station, and as I sat down I noticed the smell of cigarette smoke. I then noticed that the source of the smoke was the cigarette in the hand of the woman sat on the other side of the bus to me. She was trying to be discreet but was definitely smoking.

I politely leaned over to her and informed her that it was a non-smoking bus - as all London buses are! - and recieved a not-so-polite reply. I then politely asked her to put out the cigarette; a request that was again met with an indecent comeback.

"Are you a bus conductor?" she asked
"No i'm not" I accurately answered
"Well then I don't have to do what you say. If ya that bothered tell the driver."
"You want me to inform the driver?" So I did.

I spoke to the driver at the next stop, informed him of the smoker and sat back down on a seat behind him. He announced over the tannoy that anyone smoking would have to leave the bus now. "It's not even lit mate" was yelled at the driver from the woman, who had put the cigarette out in the time it had taken me to put in my complaint.

The bus moved on.

As I sat with my back to the busload of abuse that was now coming my way from various passengers and the smoking woman I felt as though I'd made a terrible mistake. Was I being too goody-goody? Did I really need to report her to the driver? Why did I bother?

Then an assurance replaced that doubt that, actually, I had done the right thing and now I was being tormented for it. A few moments later the woman pressed the bell to get off at her stop. I noticed her come and stand behind me and she began to insult me further.

"I bet you're a daddy's boy aint ya? I know people like you, always trying to please daddy! Well i bet your father's really pleased with you! yeah, your father's really pleased with you!"

Her words struck my heart in a way she could never have dreamed and certainly never intended them to. I felt God, my Father, reassure me that he was proud of me. I had done the right thing, despite the reaction of the majority of those on the bus...

But My Father was pleased with me.

Despite the evident hatred of this woman towards me...

My Father was pleased with me.

God works in mysterious ways. He can speak through any variety of media. And I for one am glad he does.

Empty Poetry

It seems everyone goes through times when they feel like they've given out everything they've got; When they feel physically, emotionally, even spiritually drained and exhausted.
Sometimes there is an opportunity to stop and refuel and rest. Other times there isn't that luxury and there is still a long way to go, and a lot of work still to do, before a holiday or pit-stop can take over.

I found a poem earlier on that I had totally forgotten I had written, but I clearly had been going through one of those times.

The reservoir's empty

The battery is dead

My heart is running dry

and so is my head

Each day seems a struggle

the passion is gone

like a bright summer sky

that's lacking the sun

Arrogance beckons,

Bluntness abounds

My life seems in free-fall

approaching the ground

I'm desperately hoping You'll catch me

or we're gonna meet sooner than planned

although Your plans and my plans are different

So I'm leaving all mine in Your hands.

Jimmy Orr ©
15th November 2006