It’s a harsh world out there this morning: harsh but beautiful. As I let the cat in at 7 am, the full moon, shining in all its cold glory, was just sinking behind the Hill of Fare.
Then at 8 am, as I walked Dusty the sun was rising, a brilliant orb of colour in an otherwise monochrome landscape.
Even the deer we disturbed fit well into the colourless world, their white tails bobbing as they fairly flew into the Forest of Endor. Dusty gave chase joyfully in a short burst of remembered youth, then turned back to me, tail wagging a smile.
The frost is hard on the ground and bushes. Thin fingers of broom glitter in the sunlight, each crystal reflecting the rising sun, twinkling like minute stars stretched along a straight galaxy.
So many areas in the world where life is harsh on the ground. News of the sufferings in Syria dominate the headlines and overtake my thoughts. Fear and pain, injustice and violence, and a deadly mixture of political ‘interests’ and alliances in the region.
I pray today that for the people suffering in that country torn apart, there might be one or two diamonds sparkling on the ground. May the Prince of Peace bring resolution and healing, and comfort to all who mourn.
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