The dancing lights used to precede a migraine for me. Now,
thankfully, they seem to be a phenomenon on their own, without the pounding
headache to follow. I am so grateful.
I’ve noticed the dancing lights more frequently of late. Not
sure why. I feel good. I wonder if it’s a general wakefulness at night,
sleeping intermittently rather than a good solid stretch of time. I don’t know.
This morning, they started to fringe my vision as I looked
into my Bible. Luke. The paralysed man being lowered through the roof to the
healing Saviour. I find that I can continue to read despite the dancing lights,
if I focus on one word at a time. Not a bad thing when reading Scripture. It
can be tempting to skim through, to recognise I’ve read that bit before and
assume I’ve got everything out of it already. But no, that’s not what Scripture
is, is it? You never have got everything out of any of it; God always has
another layer, another level, to speak to you about.
During the days of lock down it is perhaps helpful remembering
this in order to retain focus on God, or on a project, or on whatever is in
front of me at any given time. It is helpful not to be distracted by reading
too much news, or sharing too much speculation on how we’re going to get out of
this – both which can steal inner peace.
I felt encouraged this morning to pick up a project which
has been dormant for years. Every winter, we dig up and put the dahlia tubers
into the attic to survive the winter. A few weeks ago, I planted these
dead-looking bulbous conglomerates into separate pots of compost and began
watering them in the greenhouse. All but one has sprouted and they are growing
well, ready to be planted out whenever it seems the danger of frost is past. Perhaps
that project has been awaiting such a time as this.
May God help us all to focus today on that which gives us
life and hope and peace.
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