Directions

I was asked for directions the other day. The place the guy in the big lorry wanted to get isn't actually accessible to vehicular traffic from where he was, but only by footpath. So I had to help him find a way out from where he was back onto the main road, all the while avoiding low bridges. No easy feat for someone as directionally challenged as me! I wanted to say: Well if I were you, I wouldn't start here...
Today, I have been on a course about discernment and navigating transition. Lots of stimulating stuff. But, sometimes, when I return to the nitty gritty and often pettiness of the parish, I seriously wonder what its all about. And I want to find another starting point.
Presbyterian rock
Grey and grumpy
Fixed and immovable
Could be so different.
Could be a marker, pointing the way to the light.
Demonstrating faith and solidity, not just hardness stuck fast.
Could be a point from which to leap, landing in the squishy, soft heather.
Could even be a place to rest the weary soul before tramping on over unknown ground.
Catching the last rays of light before its time to move on.
Its time, its time, its time, but I wouldn't start from here.