Extraordinarily ordinary

Following our long hot summer, it feels right for it to be so cold, for the trees to start losing their leaves, and for my wellies to be by the front door. It feels good and right and normal. Having the expected rhythms of nature return is deeply reassuring and feels like the ordinary patterns of life have returned. For someone who loves change and adventure I found this strangely comforting. There’s a peace in the rhythms of life knowing what to expect each month and seeing the grass breathe again. It’s reassuring and incredibly ordinary. Why is something so ordinary bringing me such unexpected joy?

It reminds me of my time when I stayed at home with my children. We’ve moved house a lot and in doing so there need to be a stable parent at home and I stayed at home for eight years with my three children until they went to school. The ordinariness of changing nappies, making meal after meal, going on slow country walks that are really just a saunter down a lane because it takes half an hour go that far, and going to the supermarket to get the shopping because that’s the only outing that we can afford that week. I think I found that motherhood often fitted into the ordinary category and I struggled with it, as the ordinariness can be slow, repetitive and unexciting. The significance of the ordinary isn't always apparent while we're experiencing it - in the ordinary things of life we can create places of stability, peace and love. The people we love see our consistency and our care and have the chance to feel safe, and the places we inhabit become full of life as we pay attention to the regular rhythms of cleaning and nurturing.

When I think of examples of an ordinary life, I think of TV shows like the detectorists. Again, it seems odd for me to enjoy such slow-moving shows because I’m often compared to a 10 year-old boy as I watch Marvel, Lord of the Rings and bad action movies. I blame my dad for raising me on James Bond, and for having an older brother who I played computer games with as I grew up. But somewhere along the way watching TV that paid attention to a few characters, and the ins and outs of their ordinary lives appealed. We get to understand a person, to journey with the ups and downs and to witness the joy in what could be called ‘the ordinary life’ of someone who is often unseen.

I’m reading a similar book at the moment, with my book club, called John of John. This book is all about a father and a son, as a son returns back home to the Scottish island that he was raised on, their relationship, and how it develops. I haven’t yet read it all so I can’t fully recommend the whole book, but so far it’s been a beautiful journey through the ordinary things of everyday life. So far, it deals with strong themes of sexual identity and religion. Of particular interest was a conversation quite early on the book between the father who stayed on the island and his friend, how when they bumped into each other on the road there was a lot of silence. It really represented the slowness of living on an island and doing life together. The slow-moving nature of these dramas and books give us an opportunity to really see a culture and a person’s life. As we pay attention to ‘ordinary lives’ for long enough, we begin to recognise just how extraordinary they are.

I think Jesus knew that. He knew it as he created us, and as he walked with us as we followed God and made mistakes, he knew it when he partook of our ordinariness and loved us, and I believe he knows it now as he gave of himself through the Spirit. Given to journey with us in all our ordinariness so we can know how extraordinary and loved by God we really are. When we slow down and pay attention to the ordinary rhythms of life, perhaps we begin to see the people and places around us a little more as Jesus sees them, recognising the extraordinary beauty and worth that God gives them.

This is particularly beautiful in rural ministry, when we are plodding along, spending time in prayer, in slow conversations, in caring for our neighbours and being consistently present week in and week out so people can know the love of Jesus. It's often through these seemingly unremarkable rhythms that relationships deepen, trust grows and we begin to recognise where God is already at work. This is not a ground-breaking thought, and there’s many books that we have even recommended on this topic. But perhaps, as the leaves fall, the wellies return to the front door and life settles into its familiar autumn rhythms, we might let the ordinary things of life become extraordinary, and settle into the comfort of a God who sees us.

Jo

Jo Allen

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries

A little note for those who were interested in the previous reflection I wrote. Pete Greg has written a wonderful response to all the hubbub around what was said, you can find it here.