Sunrise, Sunset

The sunset last night. Only God could have painted such a thing of beauty. I rushed for my phone and ‘captured’ it, three times. None of the pictures begins to do it justice.

I remember seeing the Grand Canyon a few years ago, after a lifetime of seeing pictures of it. None of them did it justice. It took my breath away, literally, and was almost a transcendental experience itself.

Some things of beauty can’t be captured, explained or passed on. They have to be experienced.  I can share my experience of being born again into God’s kingdom, and the most I can hope for is that the listener will be so excited about my experience that she will rush off and start asking God to reveal himself to her, too. She will never be impacted by his presence until she opens herself to be impacted by his presence.

May your day be shot through with beautiful ‘sunsets’ which can’t be explained, only experienced, and may you take time to drink those moments of beauty deep into your soul.

Bolshoi

Two years ago we had the joy of going to the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow and watching Swan Lake. I was just remembering the consummate skill and artistry of the talented troupe of dancers. We had balcony seats, which afforded us a good view of the stage, and despite incredible contortions and lengthy poses, we never saw a wobble. Nobody lost his or her balance. The beauty of the ballet was breath-taking. Every dancer was a star.

I want to be a star in whatever I do today. Pressures come from unexpected sources, threatening to cause me to wobble. Just when I think I’ve got that pirouette down perfectly, a need or an anxiety or an ache hits me and can unbalance me if I’m not careful. How to respond to interruptions with grace and confidence: life is a challenge. So is dancing Swan Lake, I’m sure. 

What I need today is a divine dancing partner. What a blessing that he’s always there, never leaving my side, guiding my moves and helping me maintain balance. May the God of peace enable you to twirl through the day, bringing joy to others and filling your own soul with joy.

Wild Waters

Inky black was the ocean one day, breaking into white froth as the huge ship churned through the water. Black and white: the colours of the evening’s formal ball.

But no, not just black and white. As I wrote yesterday, as the black gave way to white, or settled back again to grey-black, there was a moment of vibrant, breath-taking colour. A swirl of aquamarine, a shade not seen if the water is unfurrowed. Shades of colour revealed as the blackness is fracked.

Now the layered canopy of cloud overhead begins to break, slits of blue sky revealed beyond. All day the sky has remained grey, a thick mosaic of light and dark, but now, near dusk, the lighter shades are pulling apart, unravelling like a loose-knit afgan, and hinting at more. More colour in this world than observed at first sight.

More colour in the heights. More colour in the depths. A beauty – a delicate, pastel beauty. The sea stretches to the grey horizon, dark grey lining against lighter grey. 

The loose-knit weave of cloud continues to tear, but not disappear. It is not dissolving before my eyes, leaving behind a tropical scarf of pale blue. Instead, as it pulls apart in one place, it seems to grow denser in another. Denser, darker, reflecting back the darkness of the sea.

No fish break the surface. It appears as arid and devoid of life as a Saharan landscape. But like a Saharan landscape, not all is revealed, not all is apparent. What lies beneath? Beneath this massive conveyance ploughing through the matrix of water.

Jesus said he came to bring us fullness of life. As I stood on the balcony watching the vast ocean beyond, songs of praise giving glory to God filled my head. I am so thankful for the opportunity to glimpse a part of his creation that I hadn’t imagined seeing in my lifetime. This world is beyond amazing. It is such a gift, how can anyone doubt the love of God?

Rainbowed

Monday, Monday. Dawned misty, with early morning glows emanating from the trees in all their glorious autumnal attire. As I headed down the road with my neighbour, walking to keep fit, we walked towards the arc of a rainbow. Odd drops of cold rain fell on woolly hats but the air remained fresh and clean.

Overnight rain steamed from the fields as the sun’s warming rays fell. Curious cows paused in their cud-chewing to regard us with solemn stares. Occasionally a calf would find us too startling and would dash away from the barbed wire fences.

Beauty is all around. God’s masterpiece remains a masterpiece despite the suffering which is also all around. And above the suffering there still arcs the rainbow, the sign of God’s promise of fidelity and love. Today I am thinking of the suffering, but remembering that through it all there is the God who joins us in it. Jesus, our Saviour and Lord.

May all who suffer today be rainbowed. May they all sense the loving presence of the Father and trust that ‘God acts on behalf of those who wait for him.’ May we look forward with hope and joy, appreciating the daily blessings which are all around.

The rainbow has been erased from the sky now but I carry it in my heart.

Tulips

A few centuries back, tulips were a rare flower which originated, I think, from Turkey. The Dutch developed special vases which held 3 or 5 blooms, so valuable were they. 

Our garden is bejewelled with these lovely flowers, which emerge from winter shortly after the daffodil explosion every spring. There are a few new ones in amongst the others this year, as we planted a pack of bulbs we bought in Amsterdam airport last September. 

The beauty is every bit as startling as it was centuries ago, despite their proliferation and availability. We can take them for granted. We can walk by them without even noticing the detail and the colour.

We can treat the special people in our lives in much the same way. Those we treasured at one time, we become familiar with and take for granted. We can treat the familiarity of our surroundings with the same contempt, becoming blind to the beauty as we focus inwards.

Consider the lilies of the field, Jesus advised. Not that he thought his friends were overlooking their beauty, but drawing attention to the fact that the Father looks after every aspect of his creation. 

Nothing is taken for granted by him. Nothing and no-one is overlooked. 

I have loved you with an everlasting love, God says. His passion hasn’t subsided. I don’t want mine to either.

The Gloaming

The gloaming. It’s so beautiful, and it lasts so long at this time of year in Scotland that they had to invent their own word for it. I stood on the rocks at the entrance to Tarbert Harbour a couple of nights ago, listening to the lullaby of the lapping waves and watching the lightshow over the village. 

The end of the day. Time to stand still and reflect on the day’s activities, the day’s successes or failures, and give the package to God. Somehow things can look clearer from an end-of-the-day perspective. Mistakes may be highlighted and can be apologised for. Jesus moments can be perceived and gratitude can rise, filling the heart with joy and peace. 

The beloved dad of dear friends recently reached the end of his long life. His gloaming probably lasted a bit longer than he might have chosen, but it had a beauty about it, too, as loved ones had time to appreciate him and say their adieus. 

He is now in one big Jesus moment, home at the end of his day, and his loved ones can rest assured that they walked him home safely. There is a quiet beauty at the end of a life well-lived.