My
Principal at Theological College used to tell us that if ever we were stumped
for a text on Sunday – preach from the psalms.
Maybe, having seen this week’s Blog title, you are of the opinion that
perhaps I too am stumped for a subject – so that very British theme of ‘weather’
is a handy one in a thin week!
Well perhaps you are right. But the truth is I was actually fascinated by the conference held at The Met Office HQ in Exeter yesterday as meteorologists gathered to debate the question we have been hearing for about seven years now: ‘What’s happening to summer?! Their findings, as we probably predicted, are not conclusive but they released a statement saying it might be something to do with Atlantic warming and cyclical trends. So there! The good news (apparently) is that this particular cycle of disappointing summer weather might be out of the way in five to ten years time – no need, then, to rush out and buy the sun tan lotion.
In the diary I keep the first thing I put down is the weather – why do I feel the need to do that! Perhaps I even judge the worth of day by the amount of brightness in it?
One of the Elders at Amersham Free Church sent me a great piece of writing recently which reminds us of a deeper truth – that of sensing God and being open to Love’s possibilities regardless of the weather or place. It’s a piece by Margaret Silf from her book ‘Wayfaying’ and it goes like this:
I saw the sunrise this morning. But not because I was in ‘the right place’ and the right time. At six-thirty this morning I wasn’t in the room that faces east, but in a room facing north. I didn’t go to greet the sunrise, but the sunrise came to me. I became aware of a streak of warm light glowing among the branches of an oak tree in my neighbour’s garden. It was this glow of light that attracted me and drew me into the east-facing room to watch the miracle ‘live’. This incident caused me to reflect on the many times in my life when I have not been in what I might have considered ‘the right place’, but how God has penetrated my being, indirectly perhaps, wherever I happened to be. It led me to think that perhaps every place is potentially ‘the right place’, and all that really matters is to be present to it at ‘the right time’. And discovering ‘the right time’ is easy. The right time is always the present moment.
And that, in turn, reminded me of the poem come prayer written by a Jew in a
Cologne concentration camp during WW2 – profoundly moving words I think:
I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining.
And I believe in love,
even when there's no one there.
And I believe in God,
even when he is silent.
So whatever the weather this weekend – may the clouds never obscure or dampen our sense of trust in God’s love, peace and goodness.
Best wishes,
Well perhaps you are right. But the truth is I was actually fascinated by the conference held at The Met Office HQ in Exeter yesterday as meteorologists gathered to debate the question we have been hearing for about seven years now: ‘What’s happening to summer?! Their findings, as we probably predicted, are not conclusive but they released a statement saying it might be something to do with Atlantic warming and cyclical trends. So there! The good news (apparently) is that this particular cycle of disappointing summer weather might be out of the way in five to ten years time – no need, then, to rush out and buy the sun tan lotion.
In the diary I keep the first thing I put down is the weather – why do I feel the need to do that! Perhaps I even judge the worth of day by the amount of brightness in it?
One of the Elders at Amersham Free Church sent me a great piece of writing recently which reminds us of a deeper truth – that of sensing God and being open to Love’s possibilities regardless of the weather or place. It’s a piece by Margaret Silf from her book ‘Wayfaying’ and it goes like this:
I saw the sunrise this morning. But not because I was in ‘the right place’ and the right time. At six-thirty this morning I wasn’t in the room that faces east, but in a room facing north. I didn’t go to greet the sunrise, but the sunrise came to me. I became aware of a streak of warm light glowing among the branches of an oak tree in my neighbour’s garden. It was this glow of light that attracted me and drew me into the east-facing room to watch the miracle ‘live’. This incident caused me to reflect on the many times in my life when I have not been in what I might have considered ‘the right place’, but how God has penetrated my being, indirectly perhaps, wherever I happened to be. It led me to think that perhaps every place is potentially ‘the right place’, and all that really matters is to be present to it at ‘the right time’. And discovering ‘the right time’ is easy. The right time is always the present moment.
And that, in turn, reminded me of the poem come prayer written by a Jew in a
Cologne concentration camp during WW2 – profoundly moving words I think:
I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining.
And I believe in love,
even when there's no one there.
And I believe in God,
even when he is silent.
So whatever the weather this weekend – may the clouds never obscure or dampen our sense of trust in God’s love, peace and goodness.
Best wishes,
No comments:
Post a Comment