(It's almost time for eggs!)

It's been one of those days filled with lots of little ponderings. The kind that don't ware you down, but lighten your day, like blowing bubbles; you blow them into existence then watch them float around until they pop and melt away, or leave your field of vision.

One such pondering (a determined little bubble which outlasted its worthy companions) started on a trip to a friend's blog. [A side note on the friend: This friend and his wife are the sort of people that you meet once in a lifetime. I've known them for as long as I can remember and I don't plan on forgetting them any time soon. My relationship with them is one of those special ones that you should never take for granted, where we can be apart for years (which happens more often than I would like) but when we see each other again, it's as if it were only a day. I love them very much and I don't take that for granted.] I quite often wander over for a nosey and never fail to leave slightly happier than when I got there. Today was no exception. There were two things actually (although they're kinda connected.) Firstly, my friend, who has been on a mission to lose a lot of weight, has made it. I personally think this is something worth celebrating. Not the fact that someone has lost weight, par say, but the fact that where most people would have said, 'och, I've lived with it this long, why change now?' he decided to take a scary step and start off on the arduous journey required to reach what must have seemed like an impossible goal (losing 133lbs) and made it! (After reading that part I felt inspired to go out for the wee jog I'd spent the last few days trying to psyche myself up for (even though it was wet and cold.)) Secondly, it's Easter weekend, the weekend that is symbolic of the most important happening ever, the death and resurrection of Jesus. Admittedly, I often forget just how important it is and when it is, due to the lack of it being mark by overindulgence and gifts, but then again, the whole egg painting and rolling thing is a lot of fun. (I probably shouldn't say that, but at least I'm being honest, and don't get me wrong, I don't mean for a second that I take for granted what He did for me!) But anyway, that's kinda coincidental, just painting some context. So in one bit he talked about how he had gone to hear this preacher guy and he was talking about Peter (one of Jesus' disciples) and what he did after the crucifixion: 'the events leading up to the death of Jesus, his actual crucifixion and even all the happenings surrounding the resurrection had gotten just too much for Peter and he had decided to go back to what he knew and was comfortable with. But it didn't work.' This got me thinking; why is it that every time things get rough, we (well I do anyway) insist on going back to the past, to the stuff that we left there for a reason and didn't particularly work for us the first time round. I love reading about Peter, he was such a numpty at times, I really feel for the guy, but totally empathise with him at times too. I totally take solace in the fact that however much he messed up, (and he did it with style) nothing he did made Jesus love him any less. But it still leaves me with one question, what is it that is so scary about going forward? Surely it's better than going backwards? I have no answers. But then I guess that's the prerogative of a pondering; to promise no answers so it doesn't have to apologise when it leaves without imparting one.