Sunday 26 September 2010

Autumn

Autumn seems to be on its way at last - colder now, although the days have been bright and sunny. Windy.

Today, determined not to stay indoors, I went out blackberry picking.
The wind was absolutely piercing: chilling, in spite of the sun. Yet in the lee of the hedges, in the sunshine, it was warm.
I had the most amazing couple of hours on my own, alone apart from my thoughts. And my mobile phone.

Now, I have a phone ONLY because my family say I need one. Never mind that they then get cross with me if they try to call, because I rarely have it on me. My excuse is I don't always have pockets. So what's a girl to do? I always leave it in a safe place, it's just that I might not be near it. Anyway, I digress. I have a phone. I have a NEW phone. Again, only because my family gave it to me for my birthday. I'd managed to resist getting a new one - my old one worked, it just didn't have enough battery power to sustain a phone call. I never minded that, as I never called anyway, just texted occasionally. And so my family got cross with me when they tried to call because, even if I answered - being near enough to hear it etc etc - then the phone would cut out and die.

So what was amazing about the phone?  What was amazing was that it has a RADIO on it. This tiny, pocket-sized piece of electronic gadgetry has a radio. It took me a little while to work out how to actually tune it in, but after that I was away. Gardeners Question Time - resuscitating dead gardenias (not possible, as it turned out); A View Through a Lens - tigers in India ( a bit boring, I turned back to Radio Guernsey for a few minutes); Classic Serial The Ladies' Delight by Emile Zola - riveting, in spite of being distracted by the country English accents of Parisian characters; and Open Book with the wonderfully named Mariella Frostrup, interviewing Susan Hill and two authors writing two different novels featuring immigrants to Paris - which got me wondering about my grandmother who studied at the Sorbonne over a hundred years ago...

It was such a delicious afternoon. I ventured only a couple of hundred metres from home but spent a couple of hours in the sunshine, picking blackberries, wearing headphones and intently listening, listening, listening...

And blessed God for the sunshine, the fruit, the peace - and my family for the gift.

Friday 24 September 2010

Back into school

Three and a half weeks into term, and now I know I'm thoroughly 'into' school.
I know because I've started to remember all the funny things the children say and do (rather than just looking forward to Fridays!).  I tell my husband. I tell any staff who will listen. I just love it so much!

There are some real characters.  Overheard on the way in from the playground: "You just DON'T understand the CONTEXT of 'accidental'." I wouldn't have believed a 9 year old would talk like that had I not been the recipient of a long lecture, during my RE lesson, on the prerequisites for becoming a vicar.  From the same child. I would have been impressed by any Year 8 who was able to tell me the same thing.

There is the little boy who seems to be in a dream world of his own, yet is obviously highly intelligent. And the one who can't - won't - stop talking. And the one who, with very difficult home circumstances and an emotional character, still manages to hold himself together, giving his all. The boys who love maths puzzles and won't stop working when it's time for the lesson to end. And the boy who went home, wrote 200 words of a story and then got up early the next morning to write some more.  9 years old!

Wow!  I LOVE teaching.

Wednesday 22 September 2010

How a week becomes less sad...

I wrote recently about the intermingling of happiness and sadness in our lives. I've just realised how things change.

We're still sad that our friends have left us. Yet, in the last couple of weeks, we've had a special visit from old friends, celebrating 25 years of friendship. We've spent time with precious new friends. And I discovered that a colleague at school is a believer!

We're still sad when we remember Mpira. Yet the baby rabbit who has 'grown up' in our garden since he left is now so tame that he doesn't stir when we walk past him. Or her. Who knows?

We're still sad that the 'kids' are not here with us. Yet when we hear that one is so loving her job, so excited about working that she happily puts in an 11 hour day, we cannot help but smile. And when I read in an email that the other has the part-time job he needs, in a coffee shop where the customers will be hugely blessed by his infectious smiles and jaunty cheerfulness, I squeak with joy. So glad to see how God is making ways smoother for him.

And yes, there is - will always be - an element of sadness that autumn is approaching. Meanwhile, we enjoy a wonderful indian summer, so warm we sit outside in the evening under a full moon. So warm that it is easy to swim in the cold sea, or cycle home late in the dark. The air breathes.

Sadness. And happiness. And, even, joy.

Saturday 18 September 2010

Simple pleasures

Rachel Olsen is hosting a devotional carnival next week - the title is Simple Pleasures. That didn't need much thinking!

Today, four friends came round for breakfast. We do this once a month or so - up to a dozen of us, busy women who hold down full time jobs. We sit round the table, enjoying a little time out of hectic lives. We eat, laugh and talk about Jesus and what a good friend he is to us - especially at work. Simple. Pleasing.

The sun shone - all day. A simple pleasure.

I went out kayaking with my husband. As we paddled across the bay, the water was smooth as glass. A simple pleasure. So was the cappuchino we drank in the warm September sunshine on the beach.

This afternoon, I harvested crab apples from our tree. Such goodness from nature. A simple pleasure.

I have just finished re-reading - not for the last time - my friend Lisa's book Approaching God. A simple pleasure.

In a few minutes, I shall leave to cycle the length of this pretty little island. The sea is still sparkling as evening approaches and the tide has come flowing gently in. A simple pleasure.

And I shall spend the evening with good friends, laughing, learning, living. A simple pleasure.

How good a day this is.

Monday 6 September 2010

How can a week be so sad when there is so much to be happy about?

I know life is full of contrasts, but sometimes they seem so mixed up with each other I don't know whether to laugh or cry. So end up doing neither, which weighs heavily on me.

Sadness.
Farewell to dear friends, leaving our tiny town for a distant continent.
Happiness.
Thankful that we know them. A dream of visiting one day. Anticipation of long chats on skype.

Sadness.
Remembrance of our dog, now several months deceased, his absence still a pain in our hearts.
Happiness
as we watch the rabbits playing around his grave.

Sadness
Leave-taking of beloved 'children'. Those two special adults who live with us in our house during high days and holidays.
Happiness
That they have listened to God's call on their lives, seeking to live out Isaiah 61:
the Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 
because the LORD has anointed me 
to preach good news to the poor. 
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, 
to proclaim freedom for the captives 
and release from darkness for the prisoners, 
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favour... 


Sadness
that the summer is going as we return to school
Happiness
thankful that the weather has been wonderfully warm and sunny and that I am returning to a job I love.

Sadness and happiness. Intertwined, indistinguishable.