The 'nudge' of conscience or conscientisation... the gentle (or not so gentle) 'shove in the back' attributable to God's Holy Spirit... that inner voice that says 'do it'... call it what you will, today we are invited to listen to our guts (and not the rumble tums!!)

GET INSPIRED:

Spend five minutes on today’s author’s [of the reflection on 40 Acts website] website. Get inspired by some amazing generosity stories. Perhaps even share a few.

FEELING BRAVE

Think about the last time you ignored your generous gut instinct. Is there any way you could do that thing today? If not then pray and ask God to give you another opportunity. Wherever you are today, watch out for one. Maybe you could buy The Big Issue, say yes where you might have ignored a request, or make a donation to a cause.

CARPE DIEM IT

Go outside for an hour today, to a place where lots of people are – that might be a supermarket, a coffee shop, a high street. Take some time to listen out for any generous prompts you get. When the opportunity comes, seize it.

I think what this has made me ponder is not the 'urges' I have to be generous but the reality that the huge numbers of Big Issue vendors, beggars and chuggers I see everyday have led to a hardening of my heart, a narrowing of my vision, a less generous 'gut'.  I expect the sense that I am being sworn at in some Eastern European language, or the witnessed arguments over 'pitches' between vendors and among beggars don't really help either.  Perhaps today what I need is to tune in afresh to my intuition and act on what I detect.

Today would have been my Dad's 90th birthday... I'm not quite sure why this seems important to share but over the last few weeks I've found myself noting the various nonegenarians in my world and then realising that, were he still alive, my Dad would be contemporary with them.

Just after Easter it will quarter of a century since he died which feels like a significant marker - the above photo on his 65th birthday was taken just weeks before he died.  I can't pretend I was close to my Dad, but there have been times as a middle-aged woman I'd have loved to have been able to sit down and talk about stuff with him.  His final weeks were quite precious, his 65th birthday, spent in a hospital ward a day characterised by love and laughter despire the unspoken certainty that time was short.  We weren't close, but he was my Dad and I loved him.

My Mum always claims my Dad was the Clerk of the Weather, so maybe some sunshine for your 90th, eh Dad...