Saturday 26 November 2022

Quiet

 I wonder how Jesus found it, coming back into crowds with their pressing needs, their inquisitiveness, their cynicism, their condemnation, after a period of quiet spent in prayer, alone. I ask this after the better part of four days on retreat, by myself last week, Coming home to company/talk/the daily round et al, has made me long at times for some of that quiet and silence I experienced on retreat. And prompts the speculation as to how Jesus found it. 

It is at best speculation; we'll never know the answer. Presumably he was able to meld the quiet and the crowd together, given his mission, his person, his being. 

For me, more difficult. I go back to 'In quietness and confidence shall be your strength'. Strength to face the hurly-burly of daily life. And bring a quiet soul into that hurly burly.   


Sunday 6 November 2022

dogginess

 There's an unfortunate dogginess to the house at the moment as we look after two dogs- a black, and a honey-coloured Labrador. The carpets need extra vacuuming, the air needs spraying, or scented candles need burning, to keep the all-pervading smell of Labrador at bay, keep the shedding of dog-hairs under control. 

Do we all leave some scent behind, of joy or something more noxious? Something shed from ourselves, a blessing, or something irritating? I guess we do, and the dogs are sensitising me to it, in a house not used to doggy smells, nor dog-hairs everywhere. 

There is a verse somewhere in 2 Corinthians, I think, which says we are a sweet-smelling savour to God. We are the aroma of Christ. Well, that's far from what many people experience of Christians in these polarised days, where the 'in crowd' demonises the 'out crowd'. No sweet aroma there, or very little of it. If more grace were evident- and I'm talking to myself here- maybe the aroma would be sweeter, the atmosphere more breathable, liveable. Lord, have mercy,