Tag: Mr G

Lifting our eyes to the hills

Photo: Gill Henwood.

This amazing view was photographed by my friend, Gill.

Gill writes ~~ This photo of the beautiful Lake District hills and the breathtaking sunset, at nearly 10pmHelvellyn range to the right, with Fairfield Horseshoe silhouette
Gods glory setting our hearts aflame anew, at Petertide.
Blessings outpoured in the heavens. Gx

Once again we look to God’s Grandeur expressed through his creation.
It is full of energy and yet stillness. The earth is quietening itself, drawing breath at the end of a busy day. God is holding it in the palm of His hand.

We too are held and Psalm 121 comes to mind, which begins :
I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come?
It continues and we discover it is a Psalm of trust. Very firmly the Psalmist weaves a picture which places us confidently in God’s hands.
As the psalm unfolds we both appeal to God and we see us how God responds.
Written way back in time, it has a resonance today especially in this time when we and the world are in a vulnerable place. 

It is worth meditating on the Psalm slowly looking at the photo and letting God speak to us through them.

PSALM 121

1    I lift up my eyes to the hills;  ♦
from where is my help to come?

2    My help comes from the Lord,  ♦
the maker of heaven and earth.

3    He will not suffer your foot to stumble;  ♦
he who watches over you will not sleep.

4    Behold, he who keeps watch over Israel  ♦
shall neither slumber nor sleep. 

5    The Lord himself watches over you;  ♦
the Lord is your shade at your right hand,

6    So that the sun shall not strike you by day,  ♦
neither the moon by night.

7    The Lord shall keep you from all evil;  ♦
it is he who shall keep your soul.

8    The Lord shall keep watch over your going out
and your coming in,  ♦
from this time forth for evermore.

Psalm text is from Common Worship: Daily Prayer, material from which is included here,
is copyright © The Archbishops’ Council 2005 and published by Church House Publishing.
used under terms of agreement.

Spiritual sparks flew

photo copyright to Gabriel Pollard

Pentecost (Spiritual sparks flew)

They heard it, 
a distant rumble like thunder clearing throat
for some announcement,
an important cosmic moment perhaps?

Sky storm-dark, twists and spirals,
trembles as clouds are seared open,
rent asunder.
Thunder claps gleefully.

Wind blowing, strength growing, 
Growling, rushing towards its destiny.
It comes.

She comes,
To stir up lives.
Celestial expectancy
melds with devoted self-offering.

They gather.
They wait.

A sudden, violent cacophony of sound,
Wrenching, twisting, gyring.

Then heaven opened its treasures,
tongues of fire, cascading down.
Dervish flame, whirling ecstatically through the sky.
Descending, anointing,
love flowing into lives gathered for meaning.
Commissioned. Sent out.
Spirit filled joy-givers proclaim Jesus, bright God.

And so, spiritual sparks flew. *

[Mr. G. 6.6.2022]

*this phrase was suggested to me by an article I once read by Bishop Richard Harris.

God’s spring sunshine flower

Dandelion photographed in Old Harlow by Mr G

If someone could invent a garden lawn that was always perfect, never needed mowing and was weed free there is a strong chance that they would be onto a winner.
Meanwhile, those of us with gardens must do the best we can with grass seed, mower and various kinds of weed killers, organic or, perish the thought,  otherwise.
At this time of year, along with the grass other, less welcome things grow like daisies, buttercups and dandelions.

Which reminds me of a story of a man who had a beautiful lawn except that Dandelions persisted in growing to spoil the effect. He tried rooting them out but they kept coming back. He tried weedkiller but that only worked for a time.
Finally he wrote, in despair, to the Department of Agriculture (or DEFRA, as it would now be) and he told them all that he had tried to do to eradicate the Dandelion, ending his letter with the question: “What shall I do now?”
In due course he received their reply.“We suggest that you learn to love them.”

For those who want a perfect lawn that’s probably a hard thing to do but actually, the Dandelion is quite a lovely flower. It’s just that it is an unwelcome visitor to our garden. We don’t mind so much when it grows in the hedgerows or by a woodland path or on waste ground but we don’t want it in our gardens.
God, however, seems to have a different idea. He seems to love that sunshine flower we would perhaps prefer to eradicate. There’s no accounting for taste – especially divine taste and God does seem to love a lot of things that we might prefer to reject.

There’s a lesson there for us all to learn.

Meanwhile, I confess that I love Dandelions. They are always welcome in my garden. They brighten the early Spring and they are a wonder to behold.
Maybe if we didn’t take them for granted or, worse, wage war on them, we might appreciate the intricate sun flower in all its bright array.
The golden dandelion, with its intricate and gorgeous leaf formation will still be bringing bright joy to otherwise dull verges, hedgerows, fields, wastelands,  and almost anywhere, whatever we feel about them

We should indeed learn to love them, though I am not expecting total agreement about that!

Meanwhile, here’s a little poem by Sister Donna Butler of the Sister of Providence

Unwelcomed
Save by children,
Dandelion,
I declare you
Patron flower
Of prophets.

Who would
believe such power
Lies within
the beauty
of your soft
Geometric fluff
Poised to take
a ride
on the wind
and land in
Uninvited places?

Play the Piano for me.


I call this ‘Broken Music’. It is by the Afghan street artist Shamsiah Hassani.
She did much to inspire women in Kabul to be empowered and confident in a male dominated society.
After the Taliban took over, she moved away from Afghanistan and her work now has a global perspective. One of her recent paintings, Damn the War, was addressed to the people of the Ukraine.
I have chosen this one to illustrate a poem I wrote on International Piano Day.

A poem on International Piano day  

Play the piano for me.
I wish to hear music.
Play notes to calm my fears,
Soothing my soul from anxiety.

I live in a world ripped apart by sounds
gurgling up from the bowels of hell.
Bombs, missiles, bullets,
Angry tanks, guttural sounds of soldiers.
Many are far from home, tired too, hungry.
bewildered.
Sucked in by masters whose only language is hatred.
Their words a cacophony of crashing disharmony
mixed with disillusionment.
Such cankered and disfigured hearts,
no longer at one with the music that created them.

Buildings shake and discard the rubble of their former life.
Incessant noise, unceasing ruin.
No symphony.
No sympathy.

Wars begin in hearts crumpled by demonic blackness.
Is this hell?
Despair. The concerto of annihilation.

But, if you play music to us,
We may find a way out of all this.
Your sound of note caressing note,
sprinkles  kindness over us ,  and love;
showing us where we need to be.

As the piano music  lifts my heart,
I hear it’s tune –
There is more than hell on earth.
There is earth raised up to heaven.

Mr G. 29.3.2022

Please look at the work of Shasiah Hassani either on Instagram or by Googling her name.
There are a number of interesting and informative articles about her,