Whose got the power?

Today the island woke up to a power cut, not that most of us knew this until we tried to put a light on, or have a shower, or boil the kettle, or even toast some bread. Everything seems to be taking longer than usual to come on, heat up, to boil, or to brown. Even my brain was taking longer to function, because it had to engage with the reality of things not working. Equally business people, owners of various cafés and other places arrived only to find the the power was off. Then a little while later the tourist started to arrive pouring into the coffee houses looking for hot drinks, and being told that there was no power. Yet they still kept asking for a hot drink! Their brains were not engaging with the situation. Then they asked for a toasted panini, but again they were told there was a power cut. Then their world fell apart, because the normally on life had been interrupted!

Wi-Fi was down. Shops did not open. Pub closed on the grounds of health and safety. Just to add insult to injury to the bereft pilgrims, the tide had come in, cutting them off from the mainland. What were they going to do? The only thing left for them to do, they visited Holy Island properly and visited the various holy sites. Walked into the churches instead of around the outside, or peering in wondering if it was safe to do so. In case they somehow got converted they weren’t quiet sure about if they walked over the threshold and anyway it probable wouldn’t suit their lifestyle, or it would the wrong shade of colour.

Anyone with a portable gas stove were suddenly very popular people on the island, we had one at the St Cuthbert’s Centre, with a whistling kettle! The whistle heralded hot drinks in the making and instantaneously, people started to visit and asking for drinks, but still some remained stubbornly on the edge that accepting a drink for free might contain a catch in the tea-leafs. Well, as the saying goes, there is n’out as queer as folks and I bet a few people have said that about me along the way too!

Some of the cafés started generators, and some just did the old fashion way and boiled water in saucepans. The island took on a different feel. It became more relaxed. More jovial. People talked to one another and sipped their hot drinks and they spent time looking around the Centre, here at St Cuthbert’s. In many ways, I was glad that the ColourWeaving Prayer cards had arrived a few days ago and that the printed introduction had been put up. With twenty-five people milling about and really looking and taking in their surroundings, rather than a quick look, they found things that interested them unexpectedly and they took the cards away with them.

For many visitors, this power cut, gave them no power. They were cut off from society, the tide had come back in and they felt trapped. They were loss and for a while, while it was not a quietus moment, they were slowly acknowledging that their “normal life” as visitors were not going to be fulfilled: the coffee fix and something sweet to eat brigade were in mourning. Yet for the island, I think the loss of power meant mild inconvenience and loss of income, but it brought with it a stillness, a quietness and the island seemed to be in a mystical tranquility all on it’s own. What I found interesting was that nobody seemed to be reaching for their mobile phones...

The question in my mind is, who has the power? Who really controls our lives? For the last few years I have worked hard in my ministry and many church ministers do this, but so often so much of what we do is not seen, not notice, and not recorded. I have power over my diary, but I know that when I have seen my diary and it often looks like disarranged stain glass window. It is bonkers that we allow life to get so busy, that the creative spirit is squeezed out, like a diminishing dot of light.

This sabbatical has allowed me the opportunity to see and use that creative spirit in a more meaningful way. I’ve not read the papers, or listen to the radio, or even the television, because I did not want my time interrupted. However, having said that it is really not possible to avoid world events. They creep into conversation, FaceBook, BBC Headlines that are pushed out to mobile units like my iPad. Apart from praying about any given situation, there is nothing I can do directly to make a different and in that thought I am powerless.

Stopping in my tracks and stepping out of the fast lane. Coming to a rest on the hard shoulder of life’s motorway existence has been great. I don’t really have any expectations of where my vocation will take me once this time is over, but I am not looking to step back into the fast lane again and be at the mercy of other agencies’ power games. Taking control, means that there has to be a certain power about decision making, but I think this can be done in a much more creative way, which in itself can be very powerful without being dictatorial.

So, who has the power? Do you have it? Or, do I have it... Because power is not about supply and demand. Added value for any given situation. Working all the hours and more, and I’m not sure I want to play that game of power expectations anymore. Changing my tail to the exclusion of all the creative power that has been so dormant over recent years.

So, I say again, who has the power? Well, it is not you? It is me, I have the power, together with a creative power that is begging to be used!