To Start... or Not to Stop...

For a while now I have been thinking about the difference between starting, and simply not stopping.

Not long ago, a friend and I were walking through town just after closing hours on a Saturday, the streets were relatively empty for a weekend, but this probably had something to do with the pervasive cold which bit through layers of coats, scarves and cardigans.

Deep in conversation, we noticed little around us. That is, until we passed a lady hunched up by the corner of a building. The same thought must have come to us both, as without discussion, we stopped. Just around the corner McDonalds was still open. 'A cheeseburger and a hot chocolate please'. Within minutes, we were back. And then, we carried on.

Shortly, we came across another similar figure, hunched into a doorway. Having just stopped, we couldn't go on without stopping once more. 'A cheeseburger and a hot chocolate please'. What it was with that meal that evening, I'm still not sure. So, again, within minutes we had returned to our second friend... and then we carried on home.

That incident has stayed with me for weeks now.

What is it that bothers me about it? That we started? That we did something, that we stopped, that we acted on impulse? No. The part of this which still unsettles me, is why did we stop? Had we kept walking, I know we would have found another, and another and another.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this is how pilgrims of love begin their journey. I wonder if this is the bug that bit Mother Theresa, and inspired her to reach out to the children of Calcutta? Or the same rush of compassion that led Jackie Pullinger to live for years seeing God deliver thousands of people from drug addiction? Or the desperation which led Brother Andrew to return behind the Iron Curtain again and again and again

If I'm honest, I think the thing which bothers me most is that I have a dream. In fact, I have many. I spend a great deal of time thinking about the causes closest to my heart, and sometimes rashly, but most often tentatively, I think about starting.

Starting seems like the easy part. But... if I start... will I ever stop?
Maybe that's the point.