first flower

First flower, marking the rhythm of the seasons, heralding the coming of spring, its name a reminder that winter is not yet flown. The delicate white a contrast to the dark damp earth. A patient garden that didn't forget its promise, even when the blossoming seemed too impossible to believe. This garden in the middle of the city, this small promise hidden away in a central courtyard. A quiet beauty, worthy of a steady gaze.

echoes of love

Every so often, as the day begins, this is what I see at my window. Written in the window dew of a cold room, nearly a year ago, in a playful moment, thinking of a special love. Now it echoes back to me, again and again, when I least expect it, when the light and the dew and the coolness are all falling just right. It makes me smile every time, as it bursts through unannounced. I wonder who will get to notice it, in the years to come, as it continues to make its unexpected appearance.  

Maybe someone who just needs to know that they are loved, will be blessed by this whisper of a love echo, when I have long moved on to finger painting on another window in the dew? That makes me smile.

pots and pans

Pots and Pans

A countryside retreat - in the tiny chapel we sang an English hymn,

words written by George Herbert.   His words an unexpected thread

repeated in a foreign land and a reminder of the gold to be found in

the ordinary things.

Teach me, my God and King,

in all things thee to see,

and what I do in anything

to do it as for thee.

A man that looks on glass,

on it may stay his eye;

or if he pleaseth, through it pass,

and then the heaven espy.

All may of thee partake;

nothing can be so mean,

which with this tincture, "for thy sake,"

will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause

makes drudgery divine:

who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,

makes that and the action fine.

This is the famous stone

that turneth all to gold;

for that which God doth touch and own

cannot for less be told

the joy of the possibility of dreaming

I was supposed to be studying, but it was a dreamy kind of an evening. The lighting was beautiful in my room, and I was pondering a lot more than I was studying. It does seem that I am just so much better at dreaming than I am at putting a whole load more new and complicated facts into my head - it seems more fun to go on journeys of creating instead! we talked a bit about dreaming this weekend, and I was struck by what a priviledge it is to dream. To be able to hope. We have permission to dream, as children of the King... thats what we were talking about.... and that we can dream with hope. A slave cannot dream, or if he does dream, there will be no hope in his dreams, yet we can dream and ponder with a very real and deep hope.

I have known times where hope seemed to have been completely stolen, and its an almost impossible place to be.  Dreams cant be. So I am even more grateful now, for the possibility of dreams that have hope. 

wind and willow

Sunday morning, our rooftop quiet after another busy Saturday night in

our neighbourhood; our home still as our little one slept; peace

descended and the brisk winter wind played with the sun kissed willow.

  I felt like I was the only one awake in the city, discovering a

secret, capturing something beautiful that would soon be hidden in the

rush and tear of the day.

cookies, kindness and grace

This week has seemed such a contrast between gentle grace that flows into your life without great announcement and makes you smile deeply as you ponder it again and again, enjoying the moments as they catch you once more, and severe ungrace that rudely slaps you in the face when you are least expecting it and leaves you shaken and speechless.

 So I thought I would capture the grace and kindness moments, that I was reflecting on last night while I was making a tower of cookies! Its a simple story really, but it reminded me that life can be simple and full of exchanges of grace and kindness. I have been given a sofa, that was for sale, but Becca decided to give to me. She said they were happy it was going to someone who would cherish it. I certainly will cherish it... so many sofa momemts to be had. But I had to find a way of getting it from hers to mine, so I asked Jamie. He refused the offered money for the use of his van. He is such a very kind man of integrity and didnt feel he could 'hire out' his van. So I said I would make him a big yummy lasagne, which I did last night. I had so much fun - lashings of cheese and spinach and lentils and tomatoes layered into a feast, imagining him enjoying it! And for Becca and Martha, Sam and Zac I have made towers of cookies, which I put into jars with ribbons. 


Its a simple story, but it has blessed my week. Simply, but beautifully. It felt like little exchanges of  time, kindness and grace, in a week where there maybe wasnt lots of that elsewhere. I treasured those thoughts as I made the cookies.... and remembered a verse from Romans that says "hold tightly to what is good..." It really is ok to cherish the good. And sometimes we have to cling to it.

moments of light

A wintery Sunday afternoon walk, the sunshine casting long shadows, creating images that leave no trace. Something so beautiful that can

only be seen in a moment, perhaps tomorrow the sun is a little higher

in the sky or there is a cloud obscuring the light.   This beauty

lifts my spirits as the January ground lays quiet.

new coats, old buttons

I was walking along in some drizzly london January rain. My hands were warm and snug in my new coat pocket, and inside there, in that cosy place, I was playing with one of the shiny buttons that had already fallen off. It was round and smooth as I turned it over in my fingers, and as I was getting to know it, I got thinking about buttons. How I love to collect them, how each one tells a story of where it has come from, what it was made for, and what it will become a part of. How I love seeing them all together in a heap. Different shapes and sizes and textures. I began to think of fabrics, and cottons and thread, and the piles of old buttons I have, waiting to become something.

 I went home, and dug them out, popped them in a jar, and dressed them up with a stripey ribbon. For some moments the scene really pleased me. It made me think of how I want to restore old things this year with new buttons, ribbons, flowers, fabrics. But also, use old things to recreate new things. Like big old wooden buttons on new coats. How life can be an interwoven tapestry of old with the new, the new with the old. How each one can bring something to the other. Old memories, new dreams, old ways of doing things, new habits. So I want this year to be better at incorporating the two. Redeeming and restoring the old with the new, and the new with the old. 

new beginnings

Starburst

Night's sky

Bright morning sky

New day

New year

Fresh hope of things to come