Caffeine and Christ

I'm still feeling ill after drinking way too much coffee at last night's Conversation. I was still hyped when we got to the pub but started a comedown during the quiz, which wasn't fun: when we got there I put seven or eight names on the picture sheet as soon as I looked at it; by the time we got to the results I didn't care if we won or not, I just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball. Of course when I did get home and go to bed, I still couldn't sleep for hours.

Had an interesting few moments during Conversation, when PV asked me how I thought my talk had gone, and other people around the table shared what they thought of it - or more specifically what it had been about. I know that people never hear exactly what I think I'm saying - on account of them not being me - and I'm sure that God uses what I say in order to push different people in different directions, but it was a shock to hear not only what people thought I'd said, but how they had made changes in response to it. A real "the medium is the message" moment: just because I was standing at the front, people attributed more importance to my words than I expected them to. PV also mentioned that he wants the new curate to do some "sermon training" with me, Si V, Jon Kitching and Anthony Scammell, which I think I feel enthusiastic about: at least I feel moderately enthusiastic about the chance to learn some stuff and try it out in practice, though less enthusiastic about the time commitment.

There's also a nagging worry for me that this is a big temptation to fall into Pride; another chance to start thinking how amazingly good I am at doing stuff for God: I know it's a very short step from there to doing stuff for me and my benefit. Being high on caffeine is a bit like being drunk, in that it does bring out the less nice side of me, and I suspect that I was coming across last night as more than a bit opinionated; I certainly think I was saying stuff that would make people think I was clever rather than help people to feel I was listening to them and trying to join them where they were.

At the moment my feeling is that if I can be brave enough and unselfish enough to genuinely give myself and my life to Christ, then he will help me to become who I am, far better than if I try to change myself. And if I truly become myself in Christ by relinquishing all claim on my own life, then (and only then) can I genuinely and effectively use who I am to serve God and others without being afraid that I'm still a spoilt child shoulting "Look at me! Look at me!"