Walking the dog...

Life is made up of many normal 

routine moments,

sometimes these moments

are touched by a sense of eternity.

A simple stone

in a very normal suburban park

reminded me today, during the 

daily dog walk,

of days gone by, and 

of people like me, but 

also unimaginably different 

from me,

who walked in the same park

over a 100 years ago.

My 

freedom,

education, 

and opportunities,

show the years 

that have passed since the 

park began.

Will there be people, 

100 years from now,

walking in this park?

 Will they wonder about us, 

and our strange 

ancient lives?

Jen

St Swithin's day - sandals or wellies

I am Scottish,
I have a western world view,
and therefore it is difficult
to rejoice in rainfall!

It is good to stop
and think how others
see the world.

That the sight of rain dripping
from leaves and flowing down paths
is a delight to them.

But I would like some sun,
those long light days
that relax us and
slow us down,
and restore us,
before the dark days
come again.

Jen

The Junior Choir

As a teenager I sang in a church choir.

It was a disciplined experience.
Absence being frowned on.
A turn of the head to see what was 
happening behind you deep sacrilege.

I was stuck in a church hall
for 2 hours every Sunday afternoon.
I still don't understand why I stayed 
while so many of my peers
gave up.


We were "successful" and sang 
all over the Central Belt of Scotland 
wearing our appalling
yellow shirts!
One of my most distressing experiences
is of being fed juice and digestive
biscuits after a performance, 
while the audience were served
chocolate cake in the adjacent hall.
The injustice of  that moment
has never left me!


However, the legacy that the choir
has given me nearly 30 years on,
is to know off by heart, the words of many of our
ancient Psalms and Hymns.

This morning at church we sang "God 
moves in a mysterious way" written by William Cowper 
in the 17th Century. I can still see the facial
expressions of our choir mistress as we got to 
the lines "behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face."


A hymn written by a man who knew the darkness 
of depression and yet was able to 
write...


"Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head."


Ancient words, but worthy of 
being shared with every 
generation.


Jen