Earth is crammed with heaven

I left home for some quiet time with God this morning. Ended up in a cafe. Lovely coffee Melt-in-your-mouth pain-au-chocolat But  SO MUCH NOISE. I ended up taking photos of my very first 'Stumpy' Turned out it was a flat-white. And sending snapchats of a grown man wearing a crown... (It was one of those days.) And sharing very silly messages back and forth as a result. It was fun. Not what was intended But fun just the same. And God? He was there too. You know 'Quiet time' Isn't always possible. However 'I am always aware of the Lord's presence. He is near, and nothing can shake me.' Psalm 16:8 Almost....

It's 2 years today since Dad left this world. We decided as a family that we wouldn't make a big thing of special dates. We miss our loved ones every day. We talk, Laugh, And think about them. And we thank God for them. They left us a legacy of faith Hope And love in many forms. On Tuesday this week we walked the Gower Coastal Path. It has stunning views and is a place Dad lived and worked. I found it quite emotional. Spending time in 'The land of my Fathers' Literally. A pilgrimage of sorts. As we laughed with friends, Paused to take breath, And wonder at the beauty of creation, I thanked God for my Dad, And my Grandad, And my in-laws, The truth is we miss them all the time. I'm not sure time makes their absence easier. I wish they could share in our lives now as the boys grow older. I don't believe they can see our every move. Heaven forbid! But I think that somehow they know... And are proud. I guess our act of remembrance is carrying on. Knowing they are in

Yesterday I read, God met me in the wilderness, gave me a microphone and said, "Speak" I guess my version would be, God met me in the wilderness, gave me a pen and said, "Write" And after a few months where I couldn't find my 'pen', the words are flowing thick and fast. Yesterday I posted about Iraq. Feelings of helplessness  Hopelessness. Then in the early hours of this morning I learnt of the death of Robin Williams. Rumours are he took his own life After severe battles with depression. There are a number of things that have struck me today. My own battle with depression continues. Today I picked up my repeat prescription of pills that don't take away the pain But help me to function. I also see a counsellor Take as much space as I can Practice mindfulness And exercise when I can be motivated. I do as much as I possibly can to help me live a normal life. But the truth is sometimes it's not enough, and I crash. Today there has been renewed calls

Women are raped and men are being crucified. Children beheaded Or forced to flee. And tales of people buried alive And we watch 'distressing images' with everything tensed As we don't know what's real anymore. A Christian Holocaust? Is that what's happening? In this day and age? And we pray But words seem futile long before they've left our lips. Help us Lord. Have mercy. Maranatha 'Come Lord Jesus'

I went for a swim in the sea today. It wasn't planned. I left home early for a meeting. When it had finished I fancied a swim; I remembered I had swimwear and a towel in the boot; The sea was about 30 miles away; So I turned left instead of right and off I went. Sadly,  all wasn't plain sailing from then on in. It took longer than I'd hoped to get there. I couldn't find a parking space. And the tide was out. But as I set off down the beach, wishing I'd stopped to buy beach shoes as the pebbles really hurt, I felt quite proud of my spontaneity. And then I faced my real moment of truth. The sea in the UK isn't always the bluest Or the clearest. Talk about blind faith As I hobbled over pebbles I was thrilled to feel some sand. But as the sand got softer and began to squelch, I'm guessing it wasn't so much sand, But mud between my toes. I gave up hobbling and swam. Arms only as it wasn't deep enough for leg-kicks. And I was off. I'd done what I set o

Write for 5 minutes. No editing, over-thinking, Just write. This weeks prompt is: BEGIN "There was an old man named Michael Finnegan He grew whiskers on his chin-egan The wind came up and blew them in again Poor old Michael Finnegan Begin again!" And there, my friends, lies the problem. My mind is full of silly songs. I sit on a Sunday. In full view of the congregation. The band play, And I hear my Dad, in my head, singing silly made-up words to well-known hymn tunes. Thanks Dad! It's so distracting. And that of course is the real issue. I'm easily distracted. I haven't written much lately. Life gets in the way. Then I begin to wonder if I have anything to offer. And so it goes on. So here we go. The writing begins again. I took this weeks prompt as a command. BEGIN! OK!! Anything you need to begin? Again? *cue music*