Saturday, 23 April 2016

Trophies and photographs

Apologies if this is an odd sort of post. It's  something that happened earlier this week and it's not quite straight in my mind yet and it's hard to talk about, partly because it's deeply personal, but also because it's still a bit raw and unprocessed. I'm sort of processing as I write.

On Monday I sat down to pray with two very wise and perceptive ladies that don't know me at all. We were talking about God the Father, families, our Christian journey, that kind of thing. I found myself telling them of a memory I have from junior school. The memory for me is frozen into a photograph.

There's a little girl in a blue and white checked school uniform dress standing in a school hall. Actually, she's not so little - she's about nine or ten but she's tall for her age and ... er... not thin. She has long golden hair over her shoulder and she's looking down and smiling. She has a trophy in her hands; a silver rose bowl. Standing back slightly to her right is a beaming elderly lady in a patterned dress, and all around are people in chairs who appear to be clapping....


Continued at The Association of Christian Writers' Blog: More Than Writers where I post on the 23rd of each month. This month's post is a little bit deep and introspective, but at least it's not my attempt at poetry, hey?

Every cloud has a silver lining.


Wednesday, 23 March 2016

A little rumty-tum offering for Easter

The other day I was humming a little tune and I was thinking about Easter and I having a little conversation with God while writing in my journal. How's that for multi-tasking?  Anyway, I wrote a little poem. If you add your own bit of humming, it can be a song.

All those of you who know lots about poetry, please forgive the lack of sophistication; I always had a soft spot for John Betjeman and his rumty-tum kind of poems and I don't think I ever grew out of it.

Still, clever or not, (and I think perhaps not) this is my Easter offering:



You knew what it would take to save your people
To give us all a chance of being free
You knew how great the price that needed paying
You sent your Son to earth so we would see.
You came to us; you lived and died among us
But even then we would not bow the knee
Despite it all you never ceased to love us
How can I thank the God who died for me?



Over at the Association of Christian Writers' blog - More Than Writers - there's more! 

What are you waiting for?


Sunday, 24 January 2016

They're not coming, you know

Today I feel as if I'm thinking through a fog. You know when you dream that you're being chased, and yet your legs won't move fast enough to run away? Like that, only in my head. I'm thinking through treacle. Trying to have an original thought is difficult, let alone writing it down.

A word of explanation: I'm just getting over a chest and sinus infection that's knocked me for six over the past couple of weeks, and I only have a short time to myself before I need to be somewhere to do something and so I have one eye on the clock. I need to make a phone call that I'm putting off and I've half an idea that my younger daughter wasn't really well enough for school today so the secretary might call me to come and pick her up.

My thoughts don't respond well to being chivvied and marshalled at the best of times, so to try to corral them into a blog post through the vapour of Vicks is compounding the impossible.

And yet....






Read the rest over at The Association of Christian Writers' More Than Writers blog. CS Lewis has something to say.

It might explain why my own blog has been sadly neglected for the last few months.










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Monday, 23 November 2015

Fixing my eyes on Jesus

'Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.'
1 Peter 5:8 (NIV 1984)
There was a bird in the garden.

A blackbird. I like blackbirds. He was on the bird table, pecking at crumbs from the stale ginger cake that I put out earlier that the jackdaws had in minutes. He bimbled around for a little bit and then jumped down and started examining the floor around the base of the tree. I thought he was after more crumbs but it turned out he was fancying a bit of protein. 

It was a dank, damp sort of day today and the ground was wet. Blackbird stood very still with his head on one side. Then he started pecking the ground with his little orange beak. Success! It wasn't about to give up easily - even from my vantage point in the house I could see how stretchy this worm was.

...........


The neighbour's cat.

Continued over at More Than Writers, the Association of Christian Writers' Blog, where I post on the 23rd of every month. Do come and have a look round.









Find out more about the ACW by checking out their website: www.christianwriters.org.uk

Also, there's the ACW Facebook group, where friendly and encouraging writer people go to chat and discuss and put off the point at which they actually should be doing some writing.



Image: IMG_7713.JPG by alice 10
Courtesy of Morguefile.com
Used with permission.

Friday, 23 October 2015

To my teacher

To my teacher

I was in your class for English, and English was the first lesson of my first day at senior school.

To start with I sat at the front because I wore my eleven year old enthusiasm right out in the open and I didn't realise that my eagerness to please might be more sensibly hidden somewhere the mean kids couldn't see it. As the school years progressed I chose a seat further back, but the enthusiasm didn't wane, and my goody-goody keenness was justified.  This was my thing, and I loved your lessons. 

You took my appetite for stories and fed it with rich, nourishing food.



This post is continued over at The Association of Christian Writers More than Writers blog, where I post on the 23rd of each month.

Do come and say hello. We're a very friendly bunch. 


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