Come, let’s sail away, just you and I, floating on a dream, I have you tucked away inside me, and you are sleeping. You are tired from all this work of growing, and changing, and becoming. It is time to rest, and to dream about the big world that is waiting for us.
It is a world of light. We see the blue skies and the drifting clouds and the storms as they roll in. We smell the rain, and watch as the stars fill the sky. We look for the moon; now it is merely a sliver but it grows round and fat as the days pass us by. We will go driving and stop wherever we can find something beautiful. We will dip our toes into the bluest oceans, and strain our necks looking up at the tops of the tallest trees we can find,
I will cook, and we will eat together. Raspberry pancakes on a Sunday morning, mini pizzas on a Friday night, spiced biscuits at Christmas, special birthday cakes for you to celebrate the day that all of this started.
We will talk together, you and I. At first, we will share in the small conversations that only make sense to us, as your mouth learns to wrap itself around sounds and noises. Then the sounds will become words, and ideas, and stories, and songs, and jokes that no one else understands. Your mind will stretch around language, and learning, and discovering new things. I will tell you what I know about God and his world, and you will tell me what you know too.
We will discover the things that bring gladness to your heart, and try to fill your life with them, and with all of the simple things that you will need. You will have a warm bed, songs to sing, your father’s arms to wrap you tight, and all the love that I can give.
For now, all this is but a dream for you and me. But one day soon, we will be together in this big, big world. And it will be more beautiful than any dream.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Sunday Scribblings - When Pigs Fly
She imagined pigs flying – raising their front trotters and clawing at the air, before springing off the ground with their back legs, and setting off in flight. In her mind’s eye, the sky was filled with their rotund bodies circling gracefully above the earth; their legs leaping effortlessly through the air; a chorus of grunts filling the sky as they celebrated the sheer joy of flight.
She imagined a tree in blossom; the petals of the flowers formed from currency of every colour. Dollars, euros, pounds and yen are bundled into the bright blooms. As the seasons change, the flowers unfurl and the notes are caught on the breeze and carried throughout the town. The tree then drops its seed: the coins of gold, silver and bronze, which fall to the ground below.
She imagined snow on a hot summer’s day, drifting through the humidity and heat and yet not melting. The snow gathers and glistens on the ground beneath a glorious blue sky. The children dress in shorts and T-shirts, and then go outside and play in this world made new and luminous. They scoop their hot and sticky hands into the fresh snow, and fling it at each other, rejoicing in the welcome coolness.
She imagined a chicken smiling to reveal two perfect rows of teeth; gleaming white in the sun. The people gather to see this strange sight, and to discuss with furrowed brows how this could have come to be. The vet moves in for a closer investigation, but the chicken runs off, baring its teeth as it cackles wildly.
She imagined a sunrise in the west; people awakening to a strange morning light that meets all of the familiar places at unfamiliar angles. The western horizon breaks with orange and yellow, and the world is suddenly different, with dusk light in the dawn.
But of all the logically impossible, statistically improbable, laughably ridiculous and wonderfully marvellous things she could think about, the most incredible was this: that the God of the whole universe would become a baby: a baby who cried and got dirty and had nappy rash. How strange to think that the maker of the heavens and the earth would become a man: a man who worked until his strength gave out and who carried in his heart the burdens of everyone he met and who died an excruciating death. But this thought was more than an imagining. She knew that the people still gather in wonder to discuss how this could have come to be. And she knew that this had made the whole world different, as if the sun had started to rise in the west.
“Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death -even death on a cross!” Philippians 2:5-8
She imagined a tree in blossom; the petals of the flowers formed from currency of every colour. Dollars, euros, pounds and yen are bundled into the bright blooms. As the seasons change, the flowers unfurl and the notes are caught on the breeze and carried throughout the town. The tree then drops its seed: the coins of gold, silver and bronze, which fall to the ground below.
She imagined snow on a hot summer’s day, drifting through the humidity and heat and yet not melting. The snow gathers and glistens on the ground beneath a glorious blue sky. The children dress in shorts and T-shirts, and then go outside and play in this world made new and luminous. They scoop their hot and sticky hands into the fresh snow, and fling it at each other, rejoicing in the welcome coolness.
She imagined a chicken smiling to reveal two perfect rows of teeth; gleaming white in the sun. The people gather to see this strange sight, and to discuss with furrowed brows how this could have come to be. The vet moves in for a closer investigation, but the chicken runs off, baring its teeth as it cackles wildly.
She imagined a sunrise in the west; people awakening to a strange morning light that meets all of the familiar places at unfamiliar angles. The western horizon breaks with orange and yellow, and the world is suddenly different, with dusk light in the dawn.
But of all the logically impossible, statistically improbable, laughably ridiculous and wonderfully marvellous things she could think about, the most incredible was this: that the God of the whole universe would become a baby: a baby who cried and got dirty and had nappy rash. How strange to think that the maker of the heavens and the earth would become a man: a man who worked until his strength gave out and who carried in his heart the burdens of everyone he met and who died an excruciating death. But this thought was more than an imagining. She knew that the people still gather in wonder to discuss how this could have come to be. And she knew that this had made the whole world different, as if the sun had started to rise in the west.
“Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death -even death on a cross!” Philippians 2:5-8
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