Cloud Cover

Thick clouds continue to blanket the northeast of Scotland, plunging the temperatures below a seasonal norm.

But it is not a seamless blanket of gloom, thankfully. In fact, as I write it is as if a cotton wool covering is being torn apart in various places and the sunshine is penetrating, warming the air and encouraging growth and cheerfulness down here on the land.

I love the sky here, because it is always different, always changing. And the silver lining in the cloud cover is that when it breaks near the position of the sun in the sky, shafts of golden light beam down as if from heaven itself. To me it is the glory of God reminding me that he is there still, he is always there, whether or not I see him, whether or not I feel like he's active in my life or even with me at all. His promises never fail, that he is with me always right up until the end; his promises don't depend on my feeling him near, they depend on the faithfulness of his character. He keeps his promises.

Some countries in the world seem to be under a heavy blanket of unbelief. Violence is never far away in many countries, often predicated on religious intolerance and extremist views. This afternoon I'm thinking of Iraq and Syria, especially, and the Sudan and Nigeria, places where cruelty and despotism are never far away. I pray that God will break through that blanket of hatred and intolerance and shine his glory down on those beleaguered nations, that he will reach down and save those innocent people who are just trying to live their lives and who have very few choices.

Let your glory fall, Lord Jesus, and penetrate and dissolve the clouds of evil intent which cover so many nations.

Shades of Grey

At heart, I am a hot-weather person. I love the freedom of only needing to wear one layer of clothing, possibly with bare feet, and knowing that you’ll be comfortable that way all day. 

Scotland is not a good fit for me in this regard. Here, I am already in my winter three-layer garb, which apart from hiding any unwelcome bulges has no other redeeming value. It is time-consuming to get dressed in the morning and undressed at night. Going out to walk the dog requires another two layers (fleece and wind-proof), knit hat, gloves, warm boots. I know, it sounds like the Arctic but I just prefer to be totally warm rather than slightly shivery at the start of a walk.

Having said that, the longer I live here (which is now over half of my life!) the more I appreciate the beauty of the place. I guess I may have commented on this before. Certainly my children quote me at times for voicing the thought that grey skies can be beautiful.

I hasten to clarify, not the solid weepy curtain of foggy cloud that crouches on the hill tops some days, but the variegated shades and textures and shapes I see in the skies most days. The light has a different quality here, and the way it plays on the clouds and brings out the various shades is endlessly changing and lovely. Throw in a rainbow every so often and it’s breath-taking in its own way.

A song just popped into my head – a song from the 60s. ‘Everything is beautiful, in its own way...’ How true that is. 

God, give me the eyes to see past my preconceived ideas to the beauty of landscape, of cityscape, of individuals. Thank you that yours is a perfect creation, marred for a time but redeemed by you and destined one day to reflect all the beauty that is you. Thank you for giving me an appreciative heart. May I grow to appreciate the world around me more every day. Amen.

Grey Duvet

OK, it’s sunny now, just after lunch.

But this morning when Dusty and I walked, the grey clouds enfolded the earth and were tucked in securely on all horizons. No rain. But no frost, either.

It’s not nearly as pretty, I have to say. But I saw the beauty in it, too, this morning. A warmth. A security.

There is beauty in everything. It’s the perception that is sometimes awry, rather than the perceived.

God loves you and me. That is the truth, even if you don’t believe it. Even if you don’t perceive it. 

Which makes it all the more breath-takingly beautiful.

Blue Skies

I love blue skies. Cloudless, heralding a day of unbroken sunshine.

And yet ... I have to admit that I have a fascination for, and love of, interesting skies. There is a beauty in cloud formations which is missing from a solid blue canopy. There is the play of light, white or golden or rosy, breaking through in shafts of glory. There is the threat of sudden squalls in the dark clouds scudding across the expanse, adding interest to the day. 

And then there is the rainbow. 

There is such beauty in a rainbow. Such promise. The promise of God, that never again would he flood the earth completely and destroy just about every living thing. It reminds me of the everlastingness of God himself. It reminds me of the lengths he went to in order to deal with sin in a different way. 

During this Passion Week, Holy Week, it reminds me of Jesus, coming to live and die for me.

How amazing that the last time I saw a rainbow, it was over the Sea of Galilee.

How amazing.

Much more interesting than an unbroken sky of blue.

Natural Classroom

 When I awoke, a pall of grey cloud had settled above the land around Barehillock, seeping drizzle onto field and grass. I lingered rather longer than usual over breakfast, and by the time I emerged to walk Dusty there was a rift in the grey. A glow of soft white light was revealed, beyond the clouds. It continued to emerge as we walked.

We walked down the avenue of trees, Dusty poking her nose into every bush and bramble. I paused to wait for her, turning towards the thick stand of pine trees. I could glimpse light through the far side of the woods, where two or three trees grew at weird angles. Another few steps, and when I repeated the turn, there was no sign of light through the trees, just deep darkness.

It all depended on my perspective, whether or not I could glimpse light on the other side of the trees. I was free to choose where to stand when I looked at them. 

Sometimes problems crowd in like that thick stand of trees, and whether or not I am overwhelmed by the problems may well depend on where I position myself when I look at them. If I can’t see any light, maybe I need to move my own position a little, and look again.

Other times, problems sit on me like that pall of grey cloud. I have no power to alter anything, because wherever I stand, the pall remains solid. Then, I need to wait and trust, knowing that the source of light above the cloud is still there, and when the time is right, the cloud will lift, or break up, or blow away, and hope will be renewed.

Amazing, the lessons in nature.