'"Good morning, good morning," the General said' - Sassoon, 'The General'.

I am not, fortunately, the General. However, I come to consider his sentiments as I sit, basking in glorious sunshine, in my church office, while usually I would be ensconced within the delightful yellow-and-green (peas and sweetcorn, the nation's favourite vegetables) walls of the ICE office...

I waited for half an hour this morning, sitting on the steps outside the aforementioned room (as I lack a key), only to discover that Miss Laura is still ailing; Miss Katie Beth is also ill, and sounding rather hoarse; Miss Dorothea is in Birmingham; and Miss Anne (Princess) is in a lesson...So off I popped down to Ichthus to email my Cluster about pancakes, in preparation for our little seasonal shindig tomorrow.

The General in Sassoon's satirical poem is oblivious to the attrocities of war around him. He jovially sends his men to their deaths without considering the effects on their comrades, their families, their friends, or their loved-ones...

How horrific! I heard all my English class cry in moral outrage. And in many ways, 'tis true. How disgusting to be smug and secure in the protection offered by your heirachy, while those below you suffer.

But then, if Sassoon had commenced the poem with "Terrible morning, my poor, dejected troops, for today is your last!", would the General's attitude have been any better? I wonder what the appropriate response to monstrousness really is.

One of the blessings of having had this unexpected emailing window in my morning was that I've been able to respond to one of the lovely people who comes to the evening service. But they, like lots of other people, seem to struggle to look positively at anything. Is this any healthier, or less blinkered, than the General and his similar, if bipolar, perspective? I think not.

When there is lots of pain and tephra (volcanic rubbish, for those of you who have yet to come across the word) in the lives of those around us, should we be like the General, and gloss over it because it doesn't affect us, or should wallow others to wallow in their self pity and possibly never emerge (like a drowning hippopotamus)...?

Perhaps we should look at the bigger picture and consider what we have been blessed with. Someone lovely once told me, as we promenaded on the beach looking at stars, that the more stars you look for, the more you see, and that this is like the blessings in your life. This doesn't mean refusing to acknowledge the horrible things, but instead taking them to the creator of the fantabulous things of life, and trusting Him to take care of them.

There are tephraic happenings, relationships, weather conditions etc...but amidst those, there are many, many marvellous things.

Perhaps the General should be given a new script: "Morning, morning." The abscence of adjectives would then allow the reader to make his or her own mind up about whether or not he was a glass-half-full, or a glass-hlaf-empty kind of guy.

Blessings (of a papal variety - challenging for a Northern Anglican girl), love and sparlkles,
Mademoiselle Monopoly xxxxxxxxxxx