Summer Break

I am having a summer break, so there will be no more posts for a few weeks. Time for family and friends and reflection. I’ll be back refreshed in the autumn.

In the meantime feel free to browse this site using the Dropdown Menu in the sidebar. My blog “Sitting Under My Fruit Tree” will continue on a weekly basis.

God’s Blessings

What’s the Truth About Swine ‘Flu?

I haven’t yet met anyone who has had swine ‘flu and I don’t want it of course. When I last called at our surgery, I found that we had to disinfect our hands before entry and inside the waiting room all the magazines had been removed as a precaution. As I sat there twiddling my thumbs I looked around, wondering if anyone there had it? I asked our doctor, but he was very laid back and implied there was an overreaction in the media. A friend of mine up country emailed me and jokingly started off ‘I’ve got it’ but he meant something else!

The media is our main source of information, but we hear conflicting accounts. Some of the newspaper headlines seemed to be designed to foster panic and anxiety. “800 could die daily!” and “It will return in the autumn with a vengeance!” and “Vaccines may not be available in time!” Official government releases have been more reassuring, “No more should die than in a normal ‘flu outbreak.!” But hey this is summer!

A Twinge of Envy?

If you are going through a hard time or in a prolonged stressful situation, it’s tempting to look at others and feel you are missing out. On the surface at least, they seem to be sailing through life and have it easy in comparison. Before long you may even indulge in a little self pity, which, if allowed to continue, can be a destructive path spiraling down to despair.

My wife is long-term disabled and increasingly mobility-challenged. Over recent years, I have been finding a way through two chronic illnesses and found the sudden physical restriction and loss devastating at first. There was so much stimulating and fulfilling activity, including Christian service, that I could no longer be part of.  But slowly, as I painfully let go of all that, I entered into another world.

This was a world where we were in the slow lane

Birthright

The saga of the seagulls continues from the previous post (Haven’t You Heard?) with this update. Here are the three chicks, except they have grown since and wrought mayhem in our garden – reminds me the roof must be cleaned! Two of them finally found their wings and haven’t been seen for a day or so – probably exploring with their new-found freedom. That leaves the smallest who hasn’t yet taken the risk. There’s the occasional flap of the wings, but he (or she) is staying firmly on the ground. Not what he is made for of course.

Now, we are made for flying, it’s our birthright, but it can be scary.

Bottom Line Church

I was having a clear out and tidy up this morning and came across this poem amongst a pile of papers.

I offer it as is without comment:

What is a Church?
The Church is never a place
but always a people.
Never a fold but always a flock
Never a sacred building

Haven’t You Heard?

I was up early the other morning as usual. While waiting for the coffee to filter through, I raised the kitchen blind to see a pair of eyes peering at me. A bedraggled seagull chick from our roof had somehow landed in our back garden, looking lost and forlorn. It padded around and every now and again raised it’s head and let out a squeaky cry. You know there’s nothing more pathetic than the squawk of a young seagull. This was no baby!It had grown over the months, having been fed from it’s mother’s beak and already bore the marks of grandeur of an adult.  No, this was a ‘toddler’ gull.

I Only Wanted a Hug

Food was scarce in wartime Britain, so my father dug up half the back lawn to grow vegetables. As a small boy I loved watching him skilfully prepare and rake the soil. Then I would help pop the pea and bean seeds into the holes he’d made with his dibber. He even let me have a little plot all to myself, where I grew radishes and lettuce. I got very impatient and used to pull the tiny seedlings up to see if there was anything there.

We also kept chickens and I delighted in lifting the nesting box lids to see if there were any eggs. If there were, I would rush back to the house clutching my precious prizes. Hopefully they arrived unbroken. For a real treat we would have one of the birds for Christmas dinner. My father was surprisingly squeamish, so asked the milkman to do the dirty deed. I helped with the plucking. I remember the fluffy under-feathers floating around and filling the air in our small lean-to greenhouse. We fed the hens on something called balancer meal, which was mixed into a mash with cooked vegetable waste.

One day, the peelings were boiling merrily on the kitchen range, while I reclined in comfort on the floor just below. I don’t quite know how it happened;

A Lump of Clay

As children we used to make things in a wax, called Glitterwax. The idea was to take time in softening it in our warm hands, then fashion delicate ornaments like flower petals. Later our creations could be used again to make something even better, but the wax had to go through the same softening process first, otherwise the hard petals would just break into tiny pieces.

I  want to remain soft and pliable. What I often call being soft in the heart and hard in the head! Hopefully I’ve come to recognize the signs of starting to become brittle, like being intolerant, snappy or controlling for example. You could say that in trying circumstances this is excusable, but

A Ready Answer

I had a good company position, that is until the firm underwent a major reorganisation.  It seemed like all the jobs were tossed into the air and the way they fell to earth left me wondering where I fitted in. I couldn’t see the way forward, but stood my ground and eventually I  was transferred to a different, lower paid job in another city.

My main concern for the first few weeks at least, was to ‘get my feet under the desk’, keep my head down and apply myself to my new role and whole range of working relationships. For the first time in many years I was back in a large open plan office, which took some getting used to. To be truthful I found it a bit humbling. The man at the desk next to  me had a lot to say. You could say he was a ‘loud mouth’ and rude with it. However I liked him and we had a few interesting conversations, as you do. It wasn’t long before  he had worked out that I was a Christian, so late one afternoon he stated in a loud voice, for all the office to hear, “I bet being a Christian isn’t  as good as sex!”

What I Learnt from a Mouldy Briefcase

I was carrying out much-needed clearance in our basement the other day and had reached the far end where stuff was piled high. Perched on the top was an old briefcase, that had been there so long is was gathering mould. I looked inside, thinking it could come in useful  for carrying some of my art materials.  It was  empty except for a sheet of paper. I turned it over to find a page of Oswald Chambers “My Utmost for His Highest” that had been typed out.

It was for February 4th “The overmastering majesty of personal power” and was speaking about Paul who said  he was overruled, overmastered, held as in a vice, by the love of Christ.  Ossie Chambers goes on to comment that very few of us know, what it means to be held in a grip by the love of God. Not our love for Christ, but Christ’s love for us!

All thought of clearance vanished as I read it over and over. It was as if this was a ‘God moment!’

What Are You Thinking?

I was once asked “What do you think about most of the time?” I didn’t answer directly because I felt challenged, so went away and thought about it.

I am somewhat predisposed to turning things over in my mind, but when that goes on and on without closure, I call it worrying.

When I became an operations manager for our local water company I was on call 24/7 and found it difficult to switch off and let it all go to God. This was especially so during the longest and biggest drought in our area for decades. I didn’t know  where to go to get away from it all.

Out on a Limb

I grew up in a small mill village, which some might today regard as an idyllic childhood. We were free to roam in complete safety in the streets, vast parkland and surrounding countryside and get up to all sorts of tricks. My mother used to tell people that I was ‘such a good boy!’ Little did she know!

One day we were playing on the outskirts of the village.

The Thirty Nine Steps

My wife is the Guest Blogger this week and writes about living with an illness long term:

The Thirty Nine Steps

We really welcomed our move to Cornwall. There had been some delay. We headed an ever-growing chain of interested buyers, so made the decision to arrange a bridging loan. It was risky, but John had to start his new job. We were separated for a time, but eventually moved on 5th November 1972 in the rain.

Our children – six and three – thought our new house was great, with bedrooms downstairs built into the hillside and 39 steps up to the front door. They ran up and down and in and out excitably. The beach was just down the road – a new adventure to be lived.

Stick and Carrot

Speaking with a friend the other day, he asked me if I loved and accepted myself – meaning in the same way God does – and I replied about eighty percent. He said he felt he didn’t have a very good view of himself, so settled for twenty five percent.

I’m convinced that this was one of the factors that contributed towards my chronic fatigue syndrome.

Ring In the New

New Year is traditionally a time for making resolutions, something I am never quite sure of. To be effective and lasting they have to be more than promises or good intentions. I prefer to see it as making a new start; a letting go of the old year and ringing in the new.

This is particularly relevant to me, as the three months up to Christmas were very difficult and painful.