God, Calvin said, speaks like a nursing mother lisping to her child, making room for “our feebleness”, as though cuddling us with words. And so I turn to the comfort of Psalms where the wounded Christ opens His arms to make room for my wounds, to the God who calms a lamb sleeping by aContinue reading “The Lisping God”
Heaven’s chimes are slow, but sure to strike at last; Earth’s sands are slow, but surely dropping thro’: And much we have to suffer, much to do, Before the time be past. Christina Rossetti, “Heaven’s chimes are slow” One of my favourite stories is a little-known work by J.R.R. Tolkien called “Leaf By Niggle”. ItContinue reading “Ordinary Wednesday: In Between Poems”
This one has a stone wall that you saw driving north at sunrise on your last day at work. You thought, “I’ll write a poem about that”, but by sunset it was lockdown again and you went home to stay home. No poem. This one has a glimpse you caught of your face reflected inContinue reading “For all your unwritten poems”
It’s a curious thing, keeping ordinary time these last two years. In some respects everything is very ordinary. We don’t leave our homes very much; each day feels much like the previous one; we see the same people, the same walls, the same garden beds. Yet in other ways nothing is ordinary. We long forContinue reading “Ordinary Wednesday: The New Ordinary?”
“Dada! Find wiggly-woo!” the twins cry,exultant at the chance to dig fingers in earthand find its inhabitants in their hands. And so, on my lunch break, I fossickin our newly dug garden bed,each patch of earth yielding a companion for these delighted fingers,and I store the moment like compostto ferment within, to wriggle me alive.
As a teacher, I have strange dreams. Often they involve classes wildly out of control, or me being absurdly late to a class. The schools in which I teach are often an amalgam of all the schools I have known: the primary and secondary schools that I attended, as they were in the 90s, andContinue reading “Ordinary Wednesday: Unfinished Business”
Since awe sometimes is out of reachand mind strains in its own finitude, I will take the elements, the staples of the day’s endand breathe in their meaning: grace like the sourdough I stir through the bowl,holiness like the wine I savour though kids tip their food and yell,a table ripe with Godeven now.
I’m not sure how science describes it butsometimes a neuron seeking safe passage yetfinding nonesimplyenters black spacewhere nothing is thought or feltas reprieve from thinking,feeling too much.And in that spaceis only staticonly the humming oflost signals.Emptied, what canspeak or console?What can reconnect?Devils silenced, but sothe voice of angels.In this deadness no strong manneed cast theContinue reading “Neurochemistry”
Itching ears may long to hear,All is well. Everyone relax.But truth is rarely so welcome, or simple;more often we hear All is not well before it is well.More often the doctor diagnoses before healing;the exiles must first be exiledbefore coming home.All shall be well. All manner of thingsshall be well. But first we must learntheContinue reading “The plans I have for you”
When those 12 ships turned up in Sydney, all those years ago, it wasn’t a particularly flash day for the people on those vessels either… Prime Minister Scott Morrison It was not a flash day at Sydney Cove,not a flash day for anyone.Not flash for the sailors, turning aboutfor a week in that blasting SouthernContinue reading “Change the Heart”