It is midnight on Saturday night. Young people are moving in small groups from the bars to the Night Club full of good humour with drink slowly coursing through their veins. Already abit unsteady on their feet. It is two o’clock and some of my friends are rushing to catch the last bus. How can they run in such high heals and will they make it in time?
The Night Club is packed with over four hundred gyrating souls. The over indulgence earlier in the evening is starting to take hold. Maybe I should not have had that last drink? Too late now to do anything about it. It is a quarter past two and over four hundred of us are expelled onto the back streets of Kirkwall. Now that the pounding music has stopped, we have time to catch up with all the gossip. Never mind the rain. Never mind the wind. This is Orkney after all and we are made of stern stuff! The cold strikes like a hammer blow to the head and the full effects of the alcohol kick in.
Is that a Street Pastor I see? What a blessing. A space blanket to keep me warm and a pair of flip-flops for my tired feet. I wonder why I chose to wear such high heels but fashion dictates.The battery on my mobile has gone flat but thankfully the Street Pastors call a taxi for me. Finally a lollipop to see me on my way. The only food available at this time of morning. How can these people be so happy and helpful at this unearthly time of day? I wonder if this is God at work?