Getting My Attention

There’s an old story told about a Lowestoft businessman who needed a mule to transport his goods around the town. A farmer had one to sell. The businessman paid the required price.

‘Come on, mule. Let’s go.’ The mule didn’t move.

He shouted louder, ‘Get up! Go!’ Still no movement.

He started screaming and swearing. He knew a few Suffolk obscenities. The old mule never moved a muscle.

The farmer, an ole’ Suffolk boy, picked up a fence post and hit the mule as hard as he could on the rump: ‘Get up!’ It got up. In a laid-back Suffolk way the farmer explained, ‘The mule will go all right, but first you’ve got to get his attention.’

This week teachers and doctors have talked about taking strike action… ‘Just Stop Oil’, protesters disrupted the cricket, spreading orange powder everywhere… rioters in Paris have protested over a boy’s killing…

We’re used to people trying to get our attention… black lives matter… gay rights marches… Prince Harry’s book…

This morning I read the ancient story… God tells Jonah to go to Nineveh. Jonah goes in the opposite direction and gets into a boat with a bunch of sailors. To get Jonah’s attention God first sends a storm; they all think they’ll drown. Then he sends a big fish to swallow Jonah. God now had Jonah’s attention!

And me?

I’m not always as attentive as I should be. I like: ‘If I say I’ll do something I will. You don’t need to remind me every six months.’ I know Sometimes, with my nearest and dearest especially, that isn’t a joke!

I like the stories where God speaks in a soft gentle whisper, and his people listen. I fear that doesn’t always work with me.

Sometimes I need a fat fence post to hit me over the rump, some orange powder to irritate me, a violent storm to make me seasick, or a big fish to swallow me!

Then you’ve got my attention!