hey.
I haven't been writing as much as I would like to, partly due to a dodgy internet connection which means we have to take turns in our house using it - if it's working. AND somehow I am back to having three-and-a-bit jobs. Part of the reason for taking on a new job (note-taking for people in higher education with disabilities) is because the hours of cleaning and waitress-ing have reduced significantly due to the change of season.
We are entering our first winter in the South West, and already see that Cornwall is a very different place out of the summer months. I can't say I'm looking forward to winter. I never do. I'm not one of those people who enjoy the cold, and getting all wrapped up. I'd rather it was sunny and warm all year round. I would not go so far as to say that I suffer from SAD (seasonal affective disorder), but I can't deny the negative effect that the darkening evenings and drop in temperature and general greyness has on me.
As with quite a few things in life at the moment that have the potential to get me down in the dumps, I am trying to see winter from another perspective. This week I've been thinking a lot about how nature speaks to us about God, and I don't mean just the obvious things like sunsets and stars. I recently listened to a Nomad Podcast in which they interviewed a man called Bruce Stanley about 'Forest Church'. The first time I heard of 'forest church' was at Greenbelt in the summer, but I must admit I dismissed it as toooo far out there and didn't go to any of their activities or 'rituals'. But actually, I was judging something without learning about it and I really enjoyed listening to the interview in which Bruce talks about connecting with God through nature. But more than that he reminded the listeners how Jesus so often referred to the natural world around him in his teaching and parables ... "look at the birds of the air... the wild flowers... the sparrows... the farmer sowing seed..." etc. Clearly there's lessons to be learned if we just pay a bit more attention.
The day after listening to the podcast I happened to read chapter from my new book of thoughts from Rubem Alves*, which is right along the same lines:
"Have you ever seen any kind of anxiety walking through the countryside? Or any wrath sailing side by side with the clouds? Or any fear chirping like the birds? Never. These things do not exist in the countryside. They only exist in one's head. Thus, if my thoughts were identical to what I see, hear, smell and feel, walking through the countryside, my inner world would be like the outer world, and my mind would have the quiet simplicity of nature" (p.91)
I do love walking and find being out on my own by the sea or on a hill often far easier places to talk to God than in a church building. But I think there's still a lot more to take in than I realise and I am challenged to take my time while outdoors to notice things, and perhaps to go with others to share the experience.
I'll be honest though, it is easier said than done. I went for a walk the other evening mainly to clear my head after being on the computer all day. Although we live in the middle of the countryside, going for walks from the house is actually quite difficult as there aren't many footpaths nearby due to a big quarry behind the house. So really the choices are which narrow, winding country road to walk down - with no pavements and the risk of being run over by speeding cars! The only view I had for most of the way was grey road, grey cloudy sky with the threat of rain, and high hedges that began to look menacing as daylight faded. Not exactly inspiring. More than anything it heightened the sense of loneliness that has been hovering over our house lately. I talked to God as I walked but I can't say I felt very 'connected' to anything. At the same time it was kind of refreshing not caring about getting wet as the rain started, and the wind did blow away a few cobwebs.
Then the flowers of the grass spoke up: The winter comes and with it the cold and the drought. It will look as if I am dead. But my seeds will have already been scattered. The spring will return, and with it the joy of children and games... (Rubem Alves/Alberto Caeiro)
"unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds" (John 12:24)
Winter and death and the ends of things are necessary for new life to grow. The changing of seasons is not something to be feared. There is beauty if we look hard enough. And when spring comes, we'll appreciate it all the more!
I haven't been writing as much as I would like to, partly due to a dodgy internet connection which means we have to take turns in our house using it - if it's working. AND somehow I am back to having three-and-a-bit jobs. Part of the reason for taking on a new job (note-taking for people in higher education with disabilities) is because the hours of cleaning and waitress-ing have reduced significantly due to the change of season.
As with quite a few things in life at the moment that have the potential to get me down in the dumps, I am trying to see winter from another perspective. This week I've been thinking a lot about how nature speaks to us about God, and I don't mean just the obvious things like sunsets and stars. I recently listened to a Nomad Podcast in which they interviewed a man called Bruce Stanley about 'Forest Church'. The first time I heard of 'forest church' was at Greenbelt in the summer, but I must admit I dismissed it as toooo far out there and didn't go to any of their activities or 'rituals'. But actually, I was judging something without learning about it and I really enjoyed listening to the interview in which Bruce talks about connecting with God through nature. But more than that he reminded the listeners how Jesus so often referred to the natural world around him in his teaching and parables ... "look at the birds of the air... the wild flowers... the sparrows... the farmer sowing seed..." etc. Clearly there's lessons to be learned if we just pay a bit more attention.
The day after listening to the podcast I happened to read chapter from my new book of thoughts from Rubem Alves*, which is right along the same lines:
"Have you ever seen any kind of anxiety walking through the countryside? Or any wrath sailing side by side with the clouds? Or any fear chirping like the birds? Never. These things do not exist in the countryside. They only exist in one's head. Thus, if my thoughts were identical to what I see, hear, smell and feel, walking through the countryside, my inner world would be like the outer world, and my mind would have the quiet simplicity of nature" (p.91)
I do love walking and find being out on my own by the sea or on a hill often far easier places to talk to God than in a church building. But I think there's still a lot more to take in than I realise and I am challenged to take my time while outdoors to notice things, and perhaps to go with others to share the experience.
I'll be honest though, it is easier said than done. I went for a walk the other evening mainly to clear my head after being on the computer all day. Although we live in the middle of the countryside, going for walks from the house is actually quite difficult as there aren't many footpaths nearby due to a big quarry behind the house. So really the choices are which narrow, winding country road to walk down - with no pavements and the risk of being run over by speeding cars! The only view I had for most of the way was grey road, grey cloudy sky with the threat of rain, and high hedges that began to look menacing as daylight faded. Not exactly inspiring. More than anything it heightened the sense of loneliness that has been hovering over our house lately. I talked to God as I walked but I can't say I felt very 'connected' to anything. At the same time it was kind of refreshing not caring about getting wet as the rain started, and the wind did blow away a few cobwebs.
Then the flowers of the grass spoke up: The winter comes and with it the cold and the drought. It will look as if I am dead. But my seeds will have already been scattered. The spring will return, and with it the joy of children and games... (Rubem Alves/Alberto Caeiro)
"unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds" (John 12:24)
Winter and death and the ends of things are necessary for new life to grow. The changing of seasons is not something to be feared. There is beauty if we look hard enough. And when spring comes, we'll appreciate it all the more!
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| one thing i do love about autumn,,, fireworks night! |
*Transparencies of Eternity, 2010. Convivium Press
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