A Change of Pace


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The other day I had to go to Liverpool [yes, it was a super-secret undercover mission and I will now have to kill you because you know].  I am a Christian, and recently came across Shelly Miller’s Sabbath Society*. This is, in a nutshell, some books, writings, blogs and inspiration for us to take more rest and realise it’s ok to do nothing; God rested on the Sabbath so why do we think we’re superhumans who can keep going seven days a week?


So, back to my Liverpool trip. I don’t drive, so the quickest way would have been to get the train. It saves an hour over the time the bus takes so – a no-brainer? However, I felt God telling me – ‘Take the bus, it’ll be fine.’ I really didn’t fancy a 2 hour bus ride, but the impetus was so compelling I surrendered and climbed on board.

I decided I might as well sit on the top deck to make the most of the scenery [it was an absolutely beautiful Spring day when England is looking especially lovely]. The route trundles through sleepy villages and country lanes for a good hour until it reaches Southport so I thought I might have a nap. [Yes, I’m definitely at that age where any excuse for a nap is most welcome!] However, the things I saw from my vantage point kept me enthralled.

I saw a couple of pheasants in the fields; magnificent birds which you just never ever encounter on the urban estate where I live.

I saw the clearly-defined shadow of a gull swooping low over a field.

I saw a small workshop, its door wide open to let in the sunshine, where two men were making a big iron fireplace; I wondered what home it would eventually grace.

I saw some amazing street names; Sugar Stump Lane and Cockle Dicks Rd. Why? How? Who on earth christened them?

I saw both great sturdy Shire horses and tiny, yet equally sturdy, Shetland ponies.

I saw tall trees bursting forth with magnificent blossoms, and delicate spring flowers timidly standing nearby at the roadside.

I saw No Fracking signs which always gladden my heart – it would be an unforgiveable crime to destroy these centuries of beautiful heritage with ugly, poisonous monsters.

We came into Southport – a place I have visited many times, but on this occasion I noticed how wonderful their Waterstone’s branch is.


I also spotted a hostelry called Peaky Blinders which described itself as a Beermongers – what a lovely word.


The journey took 2hours, 15 minutes – yet I was almost sad when it came to an end. The slow way is sometimes the best way – it can do the soul a power of good.


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