Glen Cox was his name. I was 7, and new to Beck Road Nursery, First and Middle School. Cox was also 7. He ran the inter-class football team. Sides had been selected before I joined the school. I got my big break when Andrew Clixby (interesting that I still remember the names) was off sick. I was in. Cox was not in my class, and he was off. I was chunky even then; and if I say so myself, I was not a bad defensive midfielder. Clixby came back; and I kept my place. It was schoolboy footie, and we added another player to each side. Cox came back. He was the first bully I ever encountered. I went in Norman Hunter-like for a tackle. Norman Hunter was a legend in the Revie Leeds team, and could teach Paul Scholes a thing or two. Anyway, as I went it, Cox whispered; ‘get away, bogeyman!’ I ran away and never played football for the team again.

That encounter with Cox set a pattern for my life in many ways. I would run rather than face a bully. I have left jobs before. My last one contained one, Desmond Earliton was a particularly nasty one.

Of course, when you are running; you find it easy to hide, which is why my last post talking about the mask. You are in danger of creating a facade and can forget who you really are. Those with a biblical bent; you can find yourself ignoring the fact that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. When you start to slow down and stop you are faced with either rediscovering yourself or keeping on running.

I have recently slowed down. I found myself sandwiched between two bullies. It is interesting that both of them were quite powerful, yet those who are bullied often given the bully for more power than necessary. Bullies grow in the darkness.

Why has this epiphany occurred now?

Last week, I was at the lovely Lee Abbey Community in Devon (www.leeabbey.org.uk).

The week was led by Pete Wilcox and Catherine Fox. I went really for a holiday and thought I would listen to Pete (he is the dean of Liverpool and fine biblical expositor). In the end, it was Catherine Fox, novelist that I found inspiring.

Catherine Fox challenged us to write a poem/piece about taking God to a place. I thought about taking God to the PCC, but then thought that it would be too silly, and perhaps God would not want to go anyway.

I took God to this place, and this is why I have stopped running.

The Land of my fears

God came with me to the land of my fears

To that place behind the sofa with the words exterminate ringing in my ears

To the taunts of others

To the desire to improve myself and the improvised stories that strangled my abilities

To the school showers with the innendo and the jocular barbarity

To the envelope that contained my threadbare GCEs and CSEs

I allowed him to feel deep within his gut the horror of being found out only to discover he knew already.

I let him come to when the boss said please do some evangelism and not go to your parent’s 25th wedding anniversary

Then we watched together at the pathetic excuses that I made.

I let him come to the time when church life was so busy that I did not go to my Dad’s dying bedside, and in the moment I saw God holding my Dad’s hand and mine at the same time.

—

You would be forgiven for thinking that life has been so sad.

But then God took me

to the cheers of my Dad as I graduated as a Bachelor of Arts and to the tears of my Ph.D.

to the entrance of a boy into my life

to my ordination as priest

to my discovery that I do not need to run.

Life is and can be wonderful. You do not need to run anymore

Stop running and enjoy life!