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  • Snuffle!

    OK, so this morning it seems I'm starting my third cold of the autumn... this takes me back to my childhood when I would begin colds in September and continue through to the end of winter with one cold after another.  I like to think I'm restocking my immunity bank with 'colds I've had' but maybe that's not how it works?

    It's slightly annoying because this week I actually dared to think I was nearly 'back to normal' in terms of energy and stamina and maybe even brain power (I did say 'nearly'...)  I have had a great time haring about hither, thither and you, have worked the kind of week I used to take for granted... so I hope that hasn't laid me open to the virus that's now dancing for joy in my nasal passages!

    Quite a lot to do today, but mostly sedentary, so I can molly coddle the cold at the same time.  Off to work now!

  • Saints and Singers

    PAYG today left me with two things to ponder a while...

    Today is the day of Saints Edmund Campion and Robert Southwell and Companions - a day recognising no less than 28 catholic martyrs (10 saints and 18 blessed evidently) executed in the 16th century.  It makes for gory reading, and is a reminder of the less lovely aspects of church history.  I'm not exactly sure how that squared with the rest of what they offered, but because I didn't know who these saints were, I was sufficiently curious to dig a little deeper.

    Again today they were using a song by Karen Money, called Surrender.  I havent' managed to find a video or audio of this one, but I did track down the lyrics:

    I surrender all to You
    The past, the years to come, right now
    With every breath I bring to You
    My hopes and fears and long discarded dreams
    Take them from my trembling hands
    Before I lose my nerve and change my mind
    Tear to shreds my safety net
    And rip up every back up plan I make

    If I could only see Your face
    I would never hesitate, I'd give my all to You
    Through I do not see You now
    I will turn my back on every doubt
    And I am going to trust that You
    In Your own time will work it out

    If I could only see Your face
    Empty hands bring peace of mind
    Your burden is far lighter than my own
    And every step I take to You
    Leads me ever closer stïll to home.

     
    It's quite a scary song, by which I don't mean it is aggressive or nasty, just an incredible level of commitment that is spoken about.  "Tear to shreds my safety net and tear up every back-up plan I make".  Yikes!  But then I guess that's what it means to 'deny one-self, take up the cross and follow'.  I guess, too, it's what the martyrs of old, and the persecuted Christians (and persecuted people of other faiths and worldviews) still do today.
     
    Would we really want to let go our safety nets - our pensions, our household insurance, our secure tenancies/home ownership, our savings accounts, etc - and take the step of faith, possibly into the darkness, that the song speaks of, that Christ just may demand?
     
    "Before I lose my nerve and change my mind..."  Before we are once again overtaken by the everyday, before we settle again for mediocrity or comfortable Christianity... dare we, dare we offer it all, again, to God?
  • First Week in Advent: Thursday

    Todays readings:

    Psalm 43:3

    Genesis 5:22-24

    Hebrews 11:15 - 16

    Not, it has to be said, the most straight forward to read for a glimpse of hope, it has to be said.  Methuselah's longevity (the Genesis) and the opportunity to turn back (Hebrews) are a tad odd to say the least, when read, as they are, out of context.  So it has to be the psalm:

    Send forth your light and your truth, let them guide me; let them bring me to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell.

    In this plea, for guidance and direction (is that tautologous? probably), must be an underlying hope - that if God does indeed send forth light and truth, then direction can be found.  At this dark time of year, we are always glad to lights to show us the way, to keep our feet (or our cars) on track. 

    Whenever I read texts like this one, I am reminded of the old, old, hymn 'lead kindly light'...

    Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
    lead thou me on;
    the night is dark, and I am far from home;
    lead thou me on.
    Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
    the distant scene; one step enough for me.

    I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
    shouldst lead me on;
    I loved to choose, and see my path; but now
    lead thou me on.
    I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
    pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

    So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still
    will lead me on,
    o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
    the night is gone,
    and with the morn those angel faces smile,
    which I have loved long since, and lost a while.

    John Henry Newman (1801-1890)

    I cannot honestly say I completely understand the hymn, but the last part of the first verse - "I do not ask to see the distant scene, one step enough for me" -  always speaks to me.  We don't need a super highway with glaring lights, so that the ultimate destination is in clear view, all we need, all we desire, is light enough for the next step.  The hope, then, is that the light to show us that next step will be there.

    God of truth and light, in the foggy reality of daily life, when the way forward is so often obscured from view, grant us light enough to take the next step, and then the next, until, in your time, we reach our destination.  Amen.

  • World AIDS Day

    worldaidsday2011.jpgToday is World AIDS Day.

    I had planned on giving this blog a one day red colour scheme, but the platform doesn't offer one (at least not to my free blog!)

    Since the 1980s when widespread awareness began, countless people have fallen pray to this disease, transmitted as it is by body fluids, passed from parent to child, lover to lover.

    A lot has been done to develop better treatments, so that in the west it can almost be seen as a chronic (albeit life limiting) condition in a similar way to some metastatic cancers.  No, I'm not saying the two are equivalent, in case that sentence offends anyone, they clearly aren't, just noting that, in the west we take for granted amazing medical facilities that most of the world could only dream of.

    To find out more, go here