Somehow to forget myself

This morning I was reflecting on the story of Jesus' arrest, Peter's swordplay and denial - and was struck by something that I read in the WordLive material:

"Jesus wanted Peter to be a witness, not a defender."

The more I thought about this, the more I realised that it's so much easier for me to live reactively, defensively, defending-ly (as Peter did) than to adopt the proactive, giving, accepting way of Jesus.

Then I read today's entry over at Living Wittily and was struck by this section from Elizabeth Jennings poem:

"Teach me how you love and have to die
And I will try

Somehow to forget myself and give
Life and joy so dead things start to live."

With help, we can make positive choices, even though we are aware of our own intrinsic frailty. I guess that in many ways it's about demonstrating the difference between knowing Jesus and knowing about him.

... in the light of Easter

o dance and sing
To exude and exalt
To reflect in wonder
To go with hope
And walk without fear.
To glow with grace and peace
And feel fully human -
Rejoicing in the light of Easter

To seek and serve
To connect and join
To be confident and calm
To involve and engage
And love instinctively.
To flow where the Spirit takes you
And not be overwhelmed -
Living in the light of Easter

(Inspired by a comment from Lucy and a bunch of talented, enthusiastic young musicians.)

A new dawning

I thank God for the sky yesterday morning. It wasn't the most spectacular sunrise, in many ways it was barely noteworthy. But I was attracted to it - and as the day progressed I became more and more grateful! As I reflected on it, I regained a sense of equilibrium and came back from a pretty dark place in my mind.


A new dawning
with a glimmer of hope,
a chink of light,
through a blanket of darkness

When I lift my eyes
what do I see?
Bright hope for the day
or the overcast blackness
that meets my eye?
Do I see the day’s problems
lying in wait,
or the opportunities before me?

Can my hope outweigh my disillusion?

And even if the dark clouds
fill the day,
I will cling on to that promise of light
and think what tomorrow might bring,
with a new dawning.

Ayrshire connections

(Not George Burley - from Cumnock - although I think he'll be a decent manager for Scotland!)

Tomorrow is Burns Night and I'll be wading up to my be-kilted knees in haggis and tartan at a Burns Supper. The austere side of me (there's another side? - I hear you say) doesn't really approve of Burns Suppers. I don't think Burns would have done all that tartan stuff, however, it's a charity fund-raiser and an 'obligation' thing from work. So I'll go and have a good time (I hope!).

Anyway, I love Burns. Like me he's an Ayrshire lad. I have always found his poetry evocative and moving and full of passion. He did us a great favour, in my opinion, by collating and saving hundreds of traditional songs.

In recent times, Eddi Reader has recorded a lot of Burns songs, and I have really enjoyed her approach. She was brought up in the same town as me, so I guess that she 'gets' Burns as well. The video below is Eddi singing 'Ae Fond Kiss'.

Why 'Ae Fond Kiss'? Well, it's a fine song, which she sings well. But there's another Ayrshire connection for me. The song is about the ending of one of Burns' affairs, with a woman named Nancy. That's my mum's name, so this one's for my mum.

What a difference a day makes!

Typical of the East coast of Scotland. From yesterday's magnificent sunrise to today's gloomy mizzle (mixture of mist and drizzle). I couldn't even see the houses that I wrote about yesterday.

And yet ... there is something to learn from days like today. There is a stillness that seems to pervade everything - even the birds seem quieter, muffled, subdued.

In our human frailty we find it hard to be inspired on a day like today - when you can barely see 100 yards. Maybe we need to find ways of looking for the positives on days such as these. Yesterday, the majesty of creation was awesome; today, was a time to be still and know.

And I'm sure I spotted a tiny chink of sunlight on the horizon as I drove into Arbroath.

When I walk in his mists
he will guide me
if I learn how to trust
in his ways

When I walk in his mists
he will guide me
if I learn to tune in
to his voice

When I walk in his mists
he will guide me
if my life in his hands
I will place

When I walk in his mists
he will guide me.