(Another wonderful image from the wonderful Mackesy book that will be first in my March books!)
The storms continue Outside. but there has been blessed relief this week Inside. (I refuse to class C whatsit as a storm just yet, despite the fact that I anticipate half of my grocery order not arriving tomorrow afternoon because of C whatsit panic.)
So, I seem to have set myself the target of this over Lent: pray without ceasing, thank without flinching, and remember without doubting. That's easier to do when storms abate, undoubtedly.
I read an interesting thing about prayer yesterday. Gretchen Joanna and I sort of met when she and I were both skirting around the idea of reading Kierkegaard most of ten years ago. (Really, GJ? Really most of ten years ago?!) So we have finally started, and are joint reading The Lily of the Field and the Bird of the Air. This week we're both aiming to share what we have made of it all thus far.
Suffice to say at this point, that the First Discourse has led me on in an interesting way from last Sunday's aspiration.
He became silent... He had thought that to pray was to talk; he learned that to pray is not only to keep silent, but to listen.
As I pray, thank, remember this Lent, there must also be silence and listening. First of all I'll only hear the stormy wind. And I might hear the lamentations once more of men. If I don't avoid social media I'll hear panic and fear. These storms will pass: And after the fire came a gentle whisper.
Another lesson I'm taking from the lily and the bird is not to worry about toilet roll, Calpol and paracetamol. The Lord provides. And there are still tulips.