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Monday, 2 November 2015

Time to Go

Scrunching through leaves underfoot, colours fading, pliability hardening into brittle fragility. The brittle ones break; the pliable ones bend under my weight.

The larch tree is aflame with the needles which cling tenaciously to the branches. I know it’s only a matter of time until they, too, will carpet the drive and the denuded arms of the larch will stretch out, vulnerable to winter’s icy blasts ... which are surely coming.

Today, however, is yet another glorious Indian summer day. Crisp and cool as morning breaks but softening into gentle warmth. Quite amazing when I think of the number of Guy Fawkes’ bonfires I’ve huddled round with our kids, snow on the ground and breath visible.

I’m on my way to the dentist. A decade ago a tooth was pulled. That is, it was levered and pushed and pulled and hammered and broke up in bits, with some remaining hidden. How deeply hidden I had no idea but now, almost twelve years later, a big bit has finally surfaced and is causing a bit of a problem. 

Is it brittle, or is it pliable? Will he be able to wheek it out in a deft flick of the wrist or will it require something more physical? Will he leave it to continue its slow journey north, like some sort of iceberg, breaking up as it moves until at last nothing is left?

Random thoughts. Is there a theme here? Let’s see. I’m hoping the root of that long ago tooth will not cling tenaciously to my gum but will simply give up and allow itself to be removed easily. There was a time when that tooth served a noble purpose but that time is no more. It is a liability and a pain, to tell the truth. And yet, the trauma of its removal all those years ago led to an amazing intervention by God when the next tooth played up. But that’s another story.

Time to go. There is a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to cling on and a time to let go. My times are in God’s hands. Whatever the day holds, I walk into it trusting him to hold my hand. I know he is faithful and he will not let go.

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