I have been home again for some time but focusing on writing here has not been among my thoughts until now. Indeed, the passage of time has not influenced my will to focus in that way, and I am sure that any attempt to do so before now would have resulted in failure. It was not meant to be: the time was not right.
I happily take that as being a healthy sign of unconfused priorities; that I write here at all must not be taken as an essential part of my life. However important it may feel to me at times, and however much it assists me in the discovery and clarification of my own thoughts when writing what I hope may be of help to someone else, it must never become an end in itself. I am frequently being reminded by the world around me as well as by the ever present awareness of the Spirit within me, that there is always something else, as yet unsuspected and unseen, beyond our present vantage point. Whatever I have been through, and am going through now, is teaching me and preparing me for something in my future. It may be something I am called upon to do tomorrow, or I may have to wait until the day before I die – not forgetting the possibility of those two being one and the same – but however much I still feel that I am meant to be writing here, I am increasingly aware that this is not the final answer to my long-running question, “What is it that You require of me?”
I happily take that as being a healthy sign of unconfused priorities; that I write here at all must not be taken as an essential part of my life. However important it may feel to me at times, and however much it assists me in the discovery and clarification of my own thoughts when writing what I hope may be of help to someone else, it must never become an end in itself. I am frequently being reminded by the world around me as well as by the ever present awareness of the Spirit within me, that there is always something else, as yet unsuspected and unseen, beyond our present vantage point. Whatever I have been through, and am going through now, is teaching me and preparing me for something in my future. It may be something I am called upon to do tomorrow, or I may have to wait until the day before I die – not forgetting the possibility of those two being one and the same – but however much I still feel that I am meant to be writing here, I am increasingly aware that this is not the final answer to my long-running question, “What is it that You require of me?”
All that has been roused within me during my time away is underscored with the same searching, longing, deeply internal Presence and sense of fellowship, peace and wonder that has accompanied me for so long. It is the same Presence that walked that other western shore with me: the empty strand in Ireland. Now, as then, I am able to shout from a mountain top, “Christ is risen!” as His Holy Spirit continues trying to get through to me. I have been reminded once more that He is leading me on to something else.
I trust that I shall know it, and shall know what is asked of me when I arrive.
I have seen and experienced so little of what British Columbia offers, and yet, in spite of having been necessarily based on the edge of a city (Vancouver) where my reason for going was to be found, the brief ventures made into forests and mountains have stirred me in ways I had to some extent anticipated, but which have brought home yet again the immense gulf between learning about something - imagining it, thinking about it, believing we understand and appreciate it - and having first-hand knowledge of it: actually experiencing it.
The degree to which I have been shaken, rather than merely stirred, stripped me even further of my limited ability to communicate my feelings. If what I found and felt had been simply a place, a landscape, a space, a people, another part of the world that could provide a worthwhile destination for visits in the future, then I could have written something about it soon after returning home. No doubt I would have done so had my writing here been primarily to do with such things. But my time away was always unlikely to focus on such aspects of time and place. And the pleasure derived from my meeting with others gathered there was beyond anything I would attempt to write about here, though that pleasure was wrapped in the ever felt presence of God, and therefore became an undeniable part of my ongoing soliloquy.
I have seen and experienced so little of what British Columbia offers, and yet, in spite of having been necessarily based on the edge of a city (Vancouver) where my reason for going was to be found, the brief ventures made into forests and mountains have stirred me in ways I had to some extent anticipated, but which have brought home yet again the immense gulf between learning about something - imagining it, thinking about it, believing we understand and appreciate it - and having first-hand knowledge of it: actually experiencing it.
The degree to which I have been shaken, rather than merely stirred, stripped me even further of my limited ability to communicate my feelings. If what I found and felt had been simply a place, a landscape, a space, a people, another part of the world that could provide a worthwhile destination for visits in the future, then I could have written something about it soon after returning home. No doubt I would have done so had my writing here been primarily to do with such things. But my time away was always unlikely to focus on such aspects of time and place. And the pleasure derived from my meeting with others gathered there was beyond anything I would attempt to write about here, though that pleasure was wrapped in the ever felt presence of God, and therefore became an undeniable part of my ongoing soliloquy.
I was one of seven people who had arranged to meet there. Seven is a beautiful number with its inbuilt pointers to creation itself and the day of rest, to the extent to which our forgiveness should extend, and particularly as a symbol of perfection and wholeness. But the beauty of seven – the wholeness of our group – blossomed while we were there and became a fruitful wonder through the addition of another person: someone of whom I had heard but had never met. Parting from much loved friends always has its difficulties but saying goodbye to this eighth member of our group, only a few days after first meeting, was unexpectedly painful. There was no anticipation of the emotions that were to rise within me, but it was barely possible to hide the sudden filling up that overtook me when we were all saying our goodbyes. Thank you Lord for making me aware once more that there are such people in this world, and thank you for awakening me through the reality of their presence in my own life and in the lives of all members of our group.
The experience has beautifully confirmed my reasons for always wanting to keep an empty chair at any small group meeting, however select, or formal, or otherwise; whatever the reason for the meeting and however ‘confidential’ the intended agenda may be. None of us must ever close ourselves off so completely that we believe our present circles of friendship, fellowship and trust to be unassailably complete. We sometimes long to be protected from the unexpected, the unscheduled, the apparently badly timed interruption, particularly from strangers whose needs cannot be anticipated, and who may distract us from whatever else seems important to us at that moment. Every one of us has a ministry within God’s plan, and we must never believe that people interrupt it or intrude upon it. Whatever our particular calling or gift may be, the underlying and universal truth is that ‘people are our ministry’. When we hear those words we must not assume that they are being spoken to others and not to ourselves: to priests and pastors but not to the laity: to him or to her, but not to me.
I made it to Heathrow; I boarded the plane, stepping through the open door; and in doing so my last written words became a form of personal prophecy.
The stirrings I heard and felt were of other breezes, in other trees, and they stirred me deeply. The waves from that other previously unseen ocean gently lapping upon my shore, placed me at the very edge once more – though somehow differently.
I was far from home but I knew that I was home. My home – so long as I have my Lord walking with me – is wherever I may be.
The stirrings and guidance already within my heart were given a deeper and broader meaning by the extension of a longing I have always had for the western edge of things; the western edge of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, and the western edge of Ireland. I am still trying to unravel what the Lord has given to me, and asked of me, in my experience of the western edge of another continent. He has spoken to me once more; I have no doubt of that.
Bear with me Jesus, while my meagre capacity for understanding catches up and tries to grasp your message to me. You have been so patient with me for so very long; I yearn for clarity and certainty, but until You decide the time is right for my stepping to wherever you would have me be, grant me the knowledge that my quiet waiting is according to your will.
The stirrings and guidance already within my heart were given a deeper and broader meaning by the extension of a longing I have always had for the western edge of things; the western edge of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, and the western edge of Ireland. I am still trying to unravel what the Lord has given to me, and asked of me, in my experience of the western edge of another continent. He has spoken to me once more; I have no doubt of that.
Bear with me Jesus, while my meagre capacity for understanding catches up and tries to grasp your message to me. You have been so patient with me for so very long; I yearn for clarity and certainty, but until You decide the time is right for my stepping to wherever you would have me be, grant me the knowledge that my quiet waiting is according to your will.
I sped away on the wings of the dawn, and dwelt awhile beyond the ocean,
but even there your hand guided me, your right hand held me fast.
Dear Lord,
never loosen your grip on my life.
