smell the roses…
Generally, in every day life, I’m pretty darned good at ’smelling the roses’ - I notice little beauties of life and even literally stop to smell the roses when I’m walking through a neighbourhood and plants overhang the pavement/walkway.
What i’m being reminded of just recently is that I need to do that in my whole life too.
I have things i want to happen in my life - and i get impatient. I try not to ‘go on’ to God, but I kind of end up being just a tad repetitive in my requests (sorry God!).
What’s so easy to miss though, is the love and blessedness in my life now.
To be looking forward impatiently to a future i dream of, and miss the fact that my life right now (though not untouched by pains) is actually blessed beyond my imaginings. In fact, I’m ridiculously over-blessed.
For my future hopes, I have felt God tell me so many times, ‘It’s all in hand’, yet I find it so hard to ‘leave it there’ and get on with today.

I want to be better at ’smelling the roses’ in my friendships, enjoy and savour every moment of joy that comes my way, to abandon myself to God in the ‘now’, to learn the lessons God is teaching me directly and through my amazing, beautiful friendships right now.
I mustn’t waste the lessons of now, or miss the fun of now, by only waiting impatiently for hoped-for future joys.
Grey waters

Someone wonderful recently introduced me to R.S. Thomas… here’s one of his poems that I already love! (thanks SL!)
Sea-Watching
Grey waters, vast
as an area of prayer
that one enters. Daily
over a period of years
I have let my eye rest on them.
Was I waiting for something?
Nothing
but that continuous waving
that is without meaning
occurred.
Ah, but a rare bird is
rare. It is when one is not looking
at times one is not there
that it comes.
You must wear your eyes out
as others their knees.
I became the hermit
of the rocks, habited with the wind
and the mist. There were days,
so beautiful the emptiness
it might have filled,
its absence
was as its presence; not to be told
any more, so single my mind
after its long fast,
my watching from praying.
- R.S. Thomas
in Laboratories of the Spirit, 1975
The Monastic Way
“When we look at the world around us we see
the earth,
the sky,
the water,
the plants,
the trees,
the animals
and people.
But what we have to do is look behind all these phenomena
and discover their hidden source.
Most people stop with the phenomena:
they appreciate the earth or sky or flowers
or the sun or stars,
they admire the beauty
but they do not try to find the hidden source of the sky and flowers,
of every single thing.
We see beyond only when we look with the eyes of the heart.”
- Bede Griffiths, OSB

excellent investments…
Yesterday and today I’ve had the joy of spending time with one of my favourite 4 year olds (and his lovely parents!).
As a result, I’ve discussed dinosaur bones over dinner, filmed his ‘dancing’ (on request) and his air-guitar to Bob Dylan songs (where did he learn about air-guitar?!), been told I buy THE coolest presents ever (I scored mega with a £2 transformer toy I took for him!), and have pretended I couldn’t see him countless times today when he was ‘hiding’ in a garden (he giggles too much to be a good hider!).
Since his birth, he’s been one of the most healing presences in my world - there’s something about connecting with his wild world that completely ‘takes me out of myself’ and helps me to see a different perspective.
I thank God for that ‘little bundle’, who’s growing into a ‘big boy’…(or if he had his way, growing into a ‘Power Ranger’!). He gives so much love, and is like a literal tonic - everything seems better after a few hours with him! :0)
I love his parents, and was quite settled that I’d love their child when ’it’ arrived, whoever he/she turned out to be - I don’t think I ever realised I’d gain quite so much back. Good returns eh! Better than any other kind of bank I know!
weeds?!
of all the lovely things in the garden, I confess I have quite a soft spot for some of the alleged weeds…

Eleanor Blakely Dickinson’s poem, ‘Forget me not’ ends with these words:
….Like thoughts of home in climes afar;
Like evening’s still returning star;
Like tears which fall when the heart is sad,
Almost as sweet as that heart were glad;
Like friendship found where we sought it not;
In bower and garden, in field and grot,
Spring thy fair flowers, Forget me not.
It’s not an original thought to wonder who decides which things are weeds, and who decides what ‘the right place’ for them to grow is anyway… maybe something beautiful always finds itself in the right place?
new life in old twigs
i literally jumped for joy when i saw that the tree outside my window was starting to leaf and showing tiny signs of blossom!
i love this time of the year when things are ‘coming alive’ or ‘waking’ again. it’s wonderful… and nature’s parable re-enacted: that the cold barren days, the waiting in darkness, the dry brittle twigs weren’t really signs of all-is-lost, but of things waiting for their time (their ‘kairos’).
this is the kind of thing i meant before (over easter) when i wrote about death and resurrection - the experiences in the ‘here and now’ which feel like endings and loss, the cold/lonely/barren times that feel like wasted time, that are sometimes actually just the gateway to something new. not always what we expected, or what we think we’d want, but somehow blessings of new life.
uniqueness - pebbles on the shore
I was at the beach last Saturday morning - lovely walk. As always, I noticed some particularly special pebbles as I walked at the sea edge.
I always have to fight the temptation to collect pebbles and shells - I find so much beauty in them and enjoy to notice something special in them - the patterns, how the light falls on them, their shapes, colours…
I was thinking too - how if you look from a distance they’re just ‘pebbles’ - non-descript perhaps, uniform, nothing special. it’s the looking up close, and when they’re at their best - glistening with sea water and sunlight - that they begin to look extraordinary…
…I think that’s true for people too - maybe from a distance anyone can look ordinary, nothing special - but when we get a bit closer, take the trouble to get to know them, see them in their best moments as well as their worst, that we start to understand what’s special about them. We stop seeing ‘just pebbles’ or ‘just people’, and recognise the worth of each, and let them touch our lives with their uniqueness.
voice of hope - soak this in
I’ve rediscovered this song lately - I’ve downloaded it and am playing it rather a lot! and I’ve put the words up where i see them a lot at home…
Are above the earth
So high are your ways to mine
Ways so perfect they never fail me
I know you are good all the time
And through the storm
Yet I will praise you
Despite it all
Yet I will sing
Through good and bad
Yet I will worship
For you remain the same
King of kings
You are the voice of hope
The anchor of my soul
Where there seems to be no way
You make it possible
You are the prince of peace
Amidst adversity
My lips will shout for joy
To you the most high
You were the one
Before time began
There’s nothing beyond your controll
My confidence
My assurence rest in your unchanging world
And through the storm
Yet I will praise you
Despite it all
Yet I will sing
Through good and bad
Yet I will worship
For you remain the same
King of kings
You are the voice of hope
The anchor of my soul
Where there seems to be no way
You make it possible
You are the prince of peace
Amidst adversity
My lips will shout for joy
To you the most high
snow control
Yesterday’s weather was forecast: ‘light showers, grey’. Yesterday was sunny until mid-afternoon. Then it was a bit grey, but no rain.
Today was forecast ’snow’. Hmm. I took no notice. Imagine my surprise this morning!
I woke up my house guest and made her get up and look out of the window, just so I could see the look of surprise on her face!
Snow reminds us of how little we are in control.
Despite our various efforts to predict, decide, choose,
something as delicate, temporary, vulnerable as tiny snowflakes
can stop traffic, make me put on an extra coat
make adults give up work for the day
and play in the garden, building snow-people and throwing snowballs.
Oh, the power of little snow flakes.
I’m glad the weather reports are sometimes wrong, sometimes right.
It reminds us of our place in the world.
About
another soul on a pilgrim journey, sharing some thoughts, poems, experiences of God.
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