Squirrelling

It’s that time of year.

When Dusty was alive, I would always carry a bag with me on our walks. I would gather pine cones and twigs to use for lighting fires once the winter set in. I felt like a squirrel, busy storing nuts for those cold winter days.

Summer doesn’t last forever. So important to store up for the days which may be bitter and cold. Nourishment from a storehouse is never so tasty as that freshly picked, but nevertheless, it is nourishment, and it can sustain life.

Heading off soon for two weeks of busyness and emotional challenge, moving Mom again. Mostly I will be drawing on the nuggets of wisdom and encouragement gathered now.  Living close to others, there is little privacy to draw near to God and listen. Only during the nights, when jet lag will probably enable me to snuggle in to my heavenly Father and know his love and peace.

Perspective. I will keep the cross in full view. All else then retains its correct proportion.

Paka Paka

The fragrance of friends lingers long after they have gone. The echo of laughter. The beauty of joyful smiles. The vibrancy of a toddler, always on the move, discovering a world which is daily revealing more of its magic detail to him.

Hospitality is a foretaste of heaven – both giving it, and receiving it. Discussing and debating ideas and issues: sharing memories which invite a glimpse into each other’s past: revealing hopes and ambitions for the future: over food as special as coq au vin and as basic as porage. 

Friendship across the generations may be rare, especially when coupled with friendship across eastern and western cultures. We have made these friends in our autumn, in their summer, and share Russian, Scottish and American experiences, memories, and approaches to life. Encircling us all I sense the everlasting arms embracing us in a divine hug of love.

We are grateful to God for the ‘chance’ that brought us together, having had our lives enriched and our vision broadened as a result. As we have parted with smiles and promises to meet again soon, I sense the heartbeat of our loving Father, a gentle smile and a sigh of satisfaction.

Paka paka.

Pretending?

Mid-July. 

It feels more like mid-October. 

Never mind. We’re off to someone’s home for dinner and I’m dressing as if it is mid-July. That may mean cold feet.

I’m wearing a ring passed down to me from my mother-in-law’s estate, which I’ve had re-sized twice already but as I type, it is sliding round my finger, which would normally be a little fatter in a normal mid-July.

It seems the path of that pesky jet stream has sunk lower than it should be at this time of year. Some of us are flooding and cold; others are dry and baking.

Well. Life is what you make it. It’s not about what happens to you, but how you react to what happens to you.

So I am determined to handle this summer with a smile. We had a wonderful day out in St Andrews yesterday, and it didn’t rain during our outdoor explorations round the ruins. It was dry long enough today so that some of the lengthy grass got lopped off. 

It’s all about making the most of what we have.

Am I pretending? Or just altering my attitude? Hypocrite or positive thinker?