Zoom moments

I wonder if we will compile a note of strange zoom moments when all this is over, the background noises of the dishwasher or the washing machine, or the traffic. The times when the cat appeared and walked over the keyboard blocking the screen in PCC meetings, the times the dog raced by, after a squirrel in the middle of morning prayer. Last week my daughter, completing her last year of university in the dining room, was horrified when, dressed in full clerical, I appeared to offer her a cuppa, only to realise she was leading a tutorial group who were now slightly bemused at the appearance of a Priest in their midst. I would like to say I left with dignity but I did exactly the opposite, the worst of all, I tried to be funny - it was not pretty.... 

There has been no compartmentalising life in this time, we have all become familiar with the insides of each others kitchens and studies and the boundary between life at home and professional life has grown ever more blurred. But maybe that's not all bad. Maybe we have become known for being the whole of who we are rather than just giving a snapshot we want people to see, maybe we have become more human.

One of the things I love most about Jesus is how he saw people. How he was able to look at them and see them as they really are, all of them and not turn away but reach out to them with an unconditional love. 

I find it reassuring that he knows all of me, and loves me still, that there is nothing I need to hide. Even in my worst zoom moments.

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
    you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
    and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

Psalm 139 vs 1-6