‘He veils the sky with clouds,
and provides the earth with rain,
makes grass grow on the hills ...’
(Psalms 147:8)
and provides the earth with rain,
makes grass grow on the hills ...’
(Psalms 147:8)
Without doubt each one of us has been gifted with a wider range of talents and abilities than we are likely to be given credit for.
That is how it should be, as the credit is not ours to receive: not for the abilities we use openly, nor for those of which we are aware but which we keep hidden, and, in the eyes and mind of no man should we ever be credited for those of which we ourselves remain unaware. For any ability or particular attribute received, credit is due to the source of the gift; the Giver is the genius, the worker of wonders, and the power that awakens the gift within us as we respond to His call in our encounters with sorrow, fear, injustice and despair in the lives of others. I believe it was Aristotle who said, 'Where your talents and the needs of the world cross, there lies your vocation.' Even in the most unbelieving hearts and minds, our talents are of little use on the wider expanses of this life and in the grand scheme of things, if they are used only for our own ease and pleasure, accumulation and ultimately futile advancement.
But it is not only the wonderful ‘above nature’ gifts God has given us that we can so easily neglect or hide, or even deny. The very fact that we have life is itself an awesome gift, and one we fail to recognize every day. Being alive involves countless processes, interconnections and inter-reliances that together maintain this temporary form that houses the creative miracle that is us. Our life as people upon this astonishing planet is utterly filled with the inherent gifts we overlook with every step and every breath we take.
The reasons that drove me towards the articulation of thoughts, and the subsequent writing that has conjured these pages from the mists that swirl around and within me, were, and still are, centred on our need to become the people we were made to be. My own increasing awareness that my journey to date has been of far greater importance than I could ever previously have realized, has brought with it a heightened sense of urgency with regard to the need for others to persevere with their journeys toward becoming the fully realized men and women God created them to be, and the need for those not yet walking their paths to find that indefinable spark, that moment’s pause, that strange inner glance, whatever the particular trigger may be for each of them to begin to discern that distant kaleidoscope of hope, love and light on their presently monochrome horizons.
And there, in that un-colourful word, is a reminder of what we regard as the everyday things of this life either obscuring what lies beyond, or hiding the beauty of their own truth within their too familiar sights and sounds, and scents and feelings. I could easily have refrained from describing other people’s horizons as being monochrome; In earlier years I would have anticipated voices with their ‘How dare you ...’ , and ‘What gives you the right ...’ , but from the reserves of excuses lying within our hearts, we can all conjure reasons to not do almost anything.
The word would not have been in my mind if it were not for the sort of day it has been, with occasional brightness, but clouds, heavy showers and mists making it a predominantly monochrome one.
The greening of the countryside with its Cowslip yellow, and the simple glory and natural purity of white and green that is the damp woodland carpets of flowering Ramsons, can never be made monochrome, but yesterday evening, having gone from the former to the even deeper peace of such Wild-Garlic scented woods gracing the western slopes of the Malvern Hills, I left their cleansing and healing power behind as I rose onto the bare hilltops above the Gullet Quarry.
My progress was purposeful – as it almost always is when I come here – but while always drawn to give silent praise to God by the natural wonders through which I pass, I rarely stop unless for physical reasons: the need to catch my breath, or in response to urgent pleadings from legs when climbing steeply to this point. But this time I had to stop, not out of physical necessity, but in obedience to God’s gentle unspoken word.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalms 46:10) With the display that awaited me, I could not have done otherwise.
“Stand! Be still! Acknowledge me, recognize me, know me for who I am.
That is how it should be, as the credit is not ours to receive: not for the abilities we use openly, nor for those of which we are aware but which we keep hidden, and, in the eyes and mind of no man should we ever be credited for those of which we ourselves remain unaware. For any ability or particular attribute received, credit is due to the source of the gift; the Giver is the genius, the worker of wonders, and the power that awakens the gift within us as we respond to His call in our encounters with sorrow, fear, injustice and despair in the lives of others. I believe it was Aristotle who said, 'Where your talents and the needs of the world cross, there lies your vocation.' Even in the most unbelieving hearts and minds, our talents are of little use on the wider expanses of this life and in the grand scheme of things, if they are used only for our own ease and pleasure, accumulation and ultimately futile advancement.
But it is not only the wonderful ‘above nature’ gifts God has given us that we can so easily neglect or hide, or even deny. The very fact that we have life is itself an awesome gift, and one we fail to recognize every day. Being alive involves countless processes, interconnections and inter-reliances that together maintain this temporary form that houses the creative miracle that is us. Our life as people upon this astonishing planet is utterly filled with the inherent gifts we overlook with every step and every breath we take.
The reasons that drove me towards the articulation of thoughts, and the subsequent writing that has conjured these pages from the mists that swirl around and within me, were, and still are, centred on our need to become the people we were made to be. My own increasing awareness that my journey to date has been of far greater importance than I could ever previously have realized, has brought with it a heightened sense of urgency with regard to the need for others to persevere with their journeys toward becoming the fully realized men and women God created them to be, and the need for those not yet walking their paths to find that indefinable spark, that moment’s pause, that strange inner glance, whatever the particular trigger may be for each of them to begin to discern that distant kaleidoscope of hope, love and light on their presently monochrome horizons.
And there, in that un-colourful word, is a reminder of what we regard as the everyday things of this life either obscuring what lies beyond, or hiding the beauty of their own truth within their too familiar sights and sounds, and scents and feelings. I could easily have refrained from describing other people’s horizons as being monochrome; In earlier years I would have anticipated voices with their ‘How dare you ...’ , and ‘What gives you the right ...’ , but from the reserves of excuses lying within our hearts, we can all conjure reasons to not do almost anything.
The word would not have been in my mind if it were not for the sort of day it has been, with occasional brightness, but clouds, heavy showers and mists making it a predominantly monochrome one.
The greening of the countryside with its Cowslip yellow, and the simple glory and natural purity of white and green that is the damp woodland carpets of flowering Ramsons, can never be made monochrome, but yesterday evening, having gone from the former to the even deeper peace of such Wild-Garlic scented woods gracing the western slopes of the Malvern Hills, I left their cleansing and healing power behind as I rose onto the bare hilltops above the Gullet Quarry.
My progress was purposeful – as it almost always is when I come here – but while always drawn to give silent praise to God by the natural wonders through which I pass, I rarely stop unless for physical reasons: the need to catch my breath, or in response to urgent pleadings from legs when climbing steeply to this point. But this time I had to stop, not out of physical necessity, but in obedience to God’s gentle unspoken word.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalms 46:10) With the display that awaited me, I could not have done otherwise.
“Stand! Be still! Acknowledge me, recognize me, know me for who I am.
All that is in the world is mine. Look! Open your eyes and see: I lay my glance and my touch on all before you.
Behold! My glory fills all heaven and earth.
You have brought yourself to me, and I reveal the glory in which I would have you bathe.
You have seen me in the ablutions of thundery rain, of dripping boughs, of trickled streams and soaking pools; you have prepared yourself as did my people of old. Their following of my Law, their preparations, their focus on my Presence in the Temple was tied to my covenant of preparation, my laying of foundations for my gift to all mankind: my Son, the world’s Saviour, your Redeemer.
My Temple now is where it has always been; it is time for mankind to see: it is time to grasp the fullness of all that has been revealed; it is above and beneath you, it is all around you: it is within you, and your coming to me is your part in the building of my dream: my Kingdom: my Will in all that I have made.
Behold! I reveal myself to you in cloud and rain, in swirling mist and caressing air, in swallowed horizon and obscured valley, in grumbling skies, in passing brilliance of sunlight shafts, in atmosphere laden with the water of life, in drenched rock, in sodden turf, and in wallowing mud.
Be still, and know that I am God.”
The magical scene spread before me was colourless, utterly monochrome, with every greyness – brooding and bright – from charcoal depths right through to bespangled and shimmering silver. With all woodland pattering of drips and drops left behind, and the last whispers of rain now ceased after the downpours: with the air held still, mists poised in suspense and no longer riding the billows of treetop and hillside, the only sound reached softly down from the vastness above me. The immensity, and the incomprehensible beauty of simplicity, spoke in creation’s muffled and slowly receding basso profundo, “Behold !” ........ “Behold !”................ ”Behold !”
‘... then the Temple was filled with the cloud of the glory of God.' (2 Chronicles 5:13)
Lord, lead every person to the time, the word, the touch, the spark, the gift, the loss, the joy or the pain, that will cause them to pause for that first moment, that first wondering, that first questioning.
Draw them into an awareness of Your Presence; lead all who already seek your face, to walk beside them on their journey into the wonders hid within seemingly colourless lives.
Draw them into an awareness of Your Presence; lead all who already seek your face, to walk beside them on their journey into the wonders hid within seemingly colourless lives.
‘Acclaim The Lord, all the earth,
serve The Lord with gladness,
come into His presence with songs of joy!’
(Psalms 100:1,2)
