Funny how you can get an idea in your head, and it actually prevents you seeing what is actually going on.
I was looking for the ‘play within the play’ last night – but it turns out what I was trying to see was the ‘play within the play within the play.’ Aah! Now, mentally rewinding what I had seen, you could hear my cranial cog wheels clicking into place. The second half still brought challenges, but post-play discussion with my in-house Shakespeare savant soon sorted those too, and all was well that ended well.
Reminds me of a story my mum tells. Fairly newly arrived in the UK, but picking up confidence in the language, she is asked in the local shop for directions. “I am a danger,” she replies, and is baffled by the look of horror on the man’s face.
When it was explained to her later what she had said, it all made sense. The shopkeeper knew exactly what had happened, but the STRANGER may still believe he was a potential terrorist victim.
Less amusingly, but in a similar way, in conversation with a homeless guy back in Bolton, he couldn’t understand why God was so cruel. Baffled me, since he was a regular at the Drop-In and WinterWatch, and so knew of the care expressed through so many Christian volunteers.
‘But why does God suffer little children,’ he said. I explained that it was the disciples who were the ones who were fed up with kids pestering Jesus, and with those words he set them straight in no uncertain terms, that the kids WERE welcome. Absolutely. It meant exactly the opposite of what he had thought it meant all those years.
I wish I could say that the scales fell from his eyes, and for the first time he could truly see the nature of the God, and the pennies dropped like coins from a jackpot won on a one-armed bandit.
Well, it may have been a start, but more likely another step along the way, on that particular occasion, on Chorley Old Rd.