Thanks

      My thanks to Glenn for setting this project up and for inviting me to participate.  An enriching experience, indeed.

      On Christmas Eve, a homeless couple, she very pregnant, came by our church looking for help in finding a place to stay.  Remarkable.  We were able to get them to shelter. 

Calm

Boxing Day and all is calm if not bright.  It’s good that the TV is running mostly old news as our world seems to take a collective pause for breath.

In the calm,  my thoughts turn to what mystery lies ahead on our journey back to God? 

the day dawns

The sun is just coming up, my wife is in the other room still wrapping presents.

I am sitting here for a brief moment before going back to help, wondering about the almighty swaddled. 

This year I cannot escape the thought of the Logos unable to articulate words, the hands that formed man and woman from clay now unable to hold an object, the power that sustains the universe unable to control bodily functions…

What does it mean to follow this light, this path of complete surrender of all power?  Perhaps we would spend more time caring for people we do not have answers for, fellowshiping with folks who do not buy our answers, risking love in the face of overwhelming violence, watching mockingbirds with no idea why they leap.

Time for family and love that transcends explanation.

peace

Of Lifeboats and Lighthouses

Christmas Eve. A crisp sunny day in Donaghadee. Chips at the Captain’s Table. A happy toddler by the sea.

A walk along the harbour, out to the lighthouse, looking back at the Balamory coloured houses and the low sun through a misty cloud. The Lifeboat. How to explain a Lifeboat to a toddler. From here? Impossible. Calm (though never complacent), waiting motionless in glassy waters. Observed from the foot of the Lighthouse, safe on dry land.

Here, on the cusp of the Feast of Salvation Incarnate, so close to the Light, and in the glow of blinding winter sunshine, we can’t see it… Today Christmas seems a luminous affair, a truly sweet and beautiful story (if you forget the massacre) but hardly Rescue. But my grandfather’s ship was torpedoed in WW2. My great-grandfather, my great-great grandfather, my uncle, my late cousin, fishermen and seafarers… This Lifeboat is for us. The Lighthouse too. For coming to us where we are, and bringing us home.

Where to now wf61? Not sure. Swimming lessons? Lifeguard training? Lifeboat volunteering? Fundraising? Some metaphorical spiritual equivalent? I’ve enjoyed this Advent journey. May tomorrow bring new gifts (even amidst struggle and loss) for us all to share.

Enjoying Blessings

I arrived back last night from a lovely couple of days in Edinburgh, although I must say I missed logging on and spending time with you all.  One moment that stuck in my mind was after a full day shopping I took my mum into M&S for a nice coffee and of course calorie laden cake. While waiting in the que with my tray filled with goodies, a young guy standing beside me with a back pack asked how much the cake was…I didn’t know.  How much I take things for granted, and how very blessed I am.  I have really enjoyed the community we have been building over the past month and thank everyone for enhancing all of my senses to the presence of God.  Feeling quite sad it’s at an end, wishing everyone a very blessed christmas!

Where to from here?

The Mockingbird’s Leap has provided a reflective space where we have flown with fellow travellers on their way back to God.

Now that we have communally taken flight, any thoughts on where to from here?  Too big for the nest now!

moments of grace

There have been many moments of grace in 2007 and today is no different:

A gift from a dear friend, the Robin nibbling on the seeds beneath a Magnolia tree, a courageous Crocus peeking it’s head above ground. (watch for that frost tonight!)

A teenager still willing to be captivated by what Santa may bring and a house full of Students fresh from their first semester out of the nest.

Space to rest and reflect and the remnant of a red sky retreating behind Cave Hill.

Mysterious moments of grace.  MAGIC!

almost done, almost begun

I’ve had quite a different day today than what would normally be the case on the average Christmas Eve. It began very early, way before sunrise, then continued with lots of time spent lying in a strange bed (I’ll tell you about it next time I see you!). Now I’m sitting at home watching ‘My Fair Lady’ with my son, who is joyfully encountering the movie for the first time, and I’m under instructions for the next two days not to lift anything heavier than a full wine glass.

So as the sun sets on the last day of Advent and we prepare for the giving of the Gift, I realise that I have been receiving gifts all month. Gifts out of which I must live in the weeks and months to come.

Thanks everyone.

learning patience

I’ve spent a bit of time on the bus and train over the last week. I’ve loved enjoying the rolling countryside between Dublin and Belfast, and watching the city go by from the top of a double decker. As I made a couple of trips in the car and remembered blogging about road rage in the Christmas traffic this time last year, I realised that public transport has been teaching me patience. In the car I want to be in the fastest lane, on the bus I have no option but to sit back, enjoy my book or the wonder of creation (outside and inside the bus). The bus has helped me enjoy the journey, not rushing to the destination.

Thanks to crooked shore and all of you for helping teach me patience during advent. Reading and musing on all the posts has helped me focus this year, not approaching Christmas in a last minute frenzy of present buying, but with eager anticipation and enjoyment. Thanks for helping me sense the beauty and grace, thanks for helping me anticipate, enjoy the wonder and fall on my knees…

two glimpses.

Yesterday evening as we drove through East Belfast towards a walk with the dog, a large flock of very small birds wheeling to and fro, to and fro in perfect unison.

Then, later, breaking bread with a group of good friends we haven’t seen in several months.