go gently into that clear light where love dwells and fear is put to flight. Go peacefully to that quiet rest where grace lives and best in us is blest. go joyously home to heaven. Where pain is gone and all that was wrong is forgiven. Do not look back to where you were. look with joy to were you are. For the place you are given. Is by grace your place in heaven. go with my love and remember me. for were you are now we both shall be. W. R. Turner.
let me be who I am.
I may not think the way you do.
I may not see the world as you see it.
after all I am still a person
just like you.
your cruel laughter makes you less
Do not shun me.
my illness is not contagious.
your mind will not
become like mine.
you cannot catch
your fear just makes me lonely
I am lost in isolation.
Do not pity me.
I am not less than you.
For all my ills,
I am human and not
ashamed of who or what
So let me be.
For all my faults.
I am still a part
I am C.O.P .D. I am not asking for sympathy. I am just stating a fact. The reason for this is that my doctor and H.M.G. has informed me that I should stay inside for a period of time. This is fine. The problem is that I live in a flat. It is just as well that I have all sorts interests and things to do that keep me busy. Otherwise I would probably go a bit stir crazy. however I have taken to looking through my windows and watching the world go by
The view is interesting because I live at the bottom of a very steep hill. If I look to the right there is a long windy road that leads down the hill to where I live it is the only way into my home. Mind you. If you go the other way, the road also goes up the hill. Roads do that don’t they. They can go in opposite directions at the same time.
there are houses and flats along the road. And there are cars parked along it, So that it is a bit like playing dodgems as you go up or down the road. Most people are polite and they give space to each other. I have to say that some, not all, but some white van drivers are not so nice. they seem to think that they have right of way, and we have to move aside for them. Apart from that most people are very friendly and helpful.
As I look to the left of the road. and between the house s at the top of the hill there is a gap. In the gap I can see aircraft approaching and leaving the airport. I live near an international airport. I am not close enough to hear them, But I can see them quite clearly. If I were a plane spotter I would record the different types of aircraft that fly past. But I am not, so I don’t.
In front of the houses on the hill, there is a grassy bank that slopes down to my flat. The grassy bank flattens out to an even grassy area that stretches to a road running alongside the grassy area. From time to time a man from the council comes and mows the grass. Just by the road is a little playground with swings and roundabouts for the children to play on.
In normal times is this quite a busy place. Cars going up and down the hill. planes flying past in the distance. Children playing in the playground. Mums and dads chatting on the grassy hill. Sadly these are not normal times. Not so many cars travel up and down the hill. I have not seen any aircraft flying past. The man has not come to mow the grass. The playground looks sad as it waits for children to come and play. No mums and dads sit and chat on the grassy slope.
Except for war, has any society changed so much in such a short time? All this because a cowardly cold killer creeps like a thief and steals the lives of innocent people. I do not believe that we can fully comprehend the loss their loved ones feel. Yet, in a strange way we are all diminished by their loss.
This terrible time has made me think about who makes society work. I have read stories of people from all over the world who have given their lives to defend us from us this killer. Our own N. H. S. has shown us their true worth in this crisis. Good people have been doing good things in their own way. A grand old soldier inspires a country. If not the world. Not politicians or powerful people. Just good folk doing good deeds for neighbour and stranger alike. These are the things that I should like to keep , and remember from all this.
One day soon. We will return to the way we were. The cars will play dodgems as they go up and down the hill. Aircraft will fly past in the dictance. The playground will be happy again as it plays host to children having fun. Mums and dads will chat on the grass as thay sit in the sun.
But there is one thing that will always remain constant in this country. As I look through my windows it has started to rain again. Well what should I expect this is England. It reminds me of the old joke.” you can tell it is summer in England because the rain gets warm”.
Well, I must be off. There is a programme on the box that I want to watch.
Peace be with you.
I’m a bit confused. Perhaps you can help?
I’m having a bit of trouble with Easter Sunday. There is a lovely old a hymn that contains the words. “Up from the grave He arose. With a mighty o’er His foes” R Lowry (1826-99) I am sure that that is a lovely old hymn: but I don’t get it. I am sure that there must have been great celebration as our Lord returned hoe after His sacrifice that brought salvation to the lost. What kind of joy was there when He claimed His throne, and place as Loed of Lords?
My problem is that there might have been triumph in heaven. But I don’t see that on earth. I don’t see a Napoleon, or any of the great emperors and kings arriving in triumph: with their great host of followers. What I saw was a lowly gardener comforting a grieving woman.
Now don’t get me wrong. By saying lowly, I do not mean to Imply that a gardener is in some way an inferior person. In fact I admire people who can work with their hands. who can make and grow beautiful things. Give me a set of tools and i’ll do myself a serious injury.
The point is that in those days, and not so long ago either. A gardener would have been a servant , and a pretty lowl;y one at that. Yet here is our Lord appearing to Mary as a gardener.
Just to go off the subject for the moment. I’m often intrigued by what happened in the tomb. The question was once aked “Who moved the stone?” My question is. Who folded the cloth? John 20- 7. The place was surrounded by guards. No one could get in without being seen. Yet somebody folded the cloth. The only person who could have folde the cloth was the man who was alredy in the tomb. But He’d been crucified. Perhaps i’m just being stupid and there is an obvious explanation. If there is, would someone please tell me.
Anyway, back to the subject. As I was saying I did not see a great king or emperor in the garden. What I did see was a gardener comforting a grieving woman. there is an old saying. ” Start as you mean to go on” It seems to me that the gardener is the Jesus who washed His disciples feet at the last supper.
the way Jesus spoke of Hie disciples was telling. He did not tell Mary to and tell His subjects or His servants. He said go and tell my brothers. John 20- 17. So she went and tild the disciples. Was she the first evangelist?
In another Gospel Jesus says to tell the disciples, and Peter. Was this a special message to Peter? This was the man who denied Him three times. I believe that Jesus is telling Peter that has forgiven him. This is special good news for people like me who have let Him down. If we are truly sorry. He will forgive us. A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. Psalm 51 -7.
well I’ve been rabbiting on again. so I’ll shut up. When you get the chance. Perhaps you can explain it all to me.
It’s been nice chatting with you. See you around mate.
Were you there
when they laid palms at
and praises filled
Did you feel the loss
when they crowned Him
then hung Him on
Did you here
when He cried
Did you feel
when the Son of love
Is there a greater gift
is there a greater love
That on a dark and
a saviour came
and took our