Carol Purves

My great nephew and niece were going to stay with me for a while. I intended that they would look back on their visit with happiness.

For days I cleaned and polished; my house would be perfect when they arrived, even if it didn’t stay that way. I had baked foods that I thought they would enjoy and also prepared special activities which would keep them happy, come wet or shine. I was prepared for every eventually.

But just hours before they came I was completely exhausted and then dreaded the time spent together because I was so tired.

In the event all they wanted to do was play in my garden. I hadn’t needed to prepare alternative exciting activities. They woofed down my carefully prepared meals but would probably have been just as happy with takeaways. Had I acted like a Martha?

How often our spiritual life like that. We are busy with meetings, committees and doing good works. Very commendable, but God wants us to spend time with Him, enjoying His company.

Carol

Yes, that’s how many Keswick Conventions there have been. No jokes, please, as to if I was at the first.  But I was there at the first Sunday evening meeting this year. The same crowds, the same atmosphere and the same message and meaning. A warm sunny evening that was unusual. The theme this year is ‘Power to Change, becoming like God’s Son.’ The message was from Jeremiah, so appropriate for today’s world.

The strap line is ‘hearing – becoming – serving.’ I had a passing thought to which there is no answer. Looking back over the last year, have I grown spiritually?

Carol

I watched as the three children reluctantly scuffed their way along the road to school. Their bags seemed heavy and their uniforms sat uncomfortably on their backs.

Then only a few hours later I watched these same children on their return journey. They skipped, they ran, they laughed and shouted. School was over for the week, freedom lay ahead and play not work would dominate their time.

With the rich young ruler in the Bible, it was the opposite story. He came running to Jesus but because he didn’t like what he was told, to give up his wealth, he walked away with a heavy heart.

Contemplating this story I wondered if I ever ran to Jesus in anticipation, then didn’t like what He told me. Did I then walk sadly away because I loved the things of this world more than Him?

Carol

For those of you who follow our happenings at these meetings, here is another update.

When we met we read our writings about Change/Transitions.  This was appropriate as one of our members was having a change, a move to another house. Another wrote about moving continents, an American lady who married an Englishman. Quite a few people wrote about moving house, though surprisingly hardly anyone mentioned the great transitions that our country are going through.

One member wrote about Tom, the cat, whom he described as his pulpit companion. We were in fits of laughter as the antics of the tip of this cat’s tail, was described.  Any cat owner will know how they ‘speak through their tails!’

The delicious cake was brought by our ‘leaver.’ Really we should have bought the cake for her.

Carol, the writer

Made the most amazing discovery yesterday. I had a writing conference in the delightful Seven Stories Museum for Children in Newcastle. Housed in a disused mill which has (yes, you’ve guessed it) seven storeys. A child’s dream come true with whole floors dedicated to nursery rhymes, exhibitions and original manuscripts. The building is full of children’s books.

One of the exhibitions that I visited yesterday was about Michael Morpurgo. I’m now going to rush to the library and get out as many books as I can. (He wrote over 300!! and more to come.)

Carol, the writer

I knew when I visited Cyril in hospital it would be a joyful and blessed occasion. When fit, he’d lived in a small flat at the top of a high-rise flat, with little money and limited mobility. Now he was ill, unlikely to recover and according to the nurses in pain.

When he saw me his face lilt up, he was genuinely pleased to see me. He then proceeded to tell me all the good things about the hospital – a wonderful choice of food, comfortable bed, great company. the list went on and on. There was no mention of his pain, the fact that he couldn’t keep his food down or move out of his bed.

Cyril is no longer with us but he had left behind the legacy of his strong Christian faith which sustained him in all adversity.

Carol

I sometimes forget how wonderful it is to live on the edge of the Lake District. The area is full of walks both high and low, short and long. Maps are usually needed but for the low  walks, maps are now inaccurate. Because of the floods last December a number of bridges have been swept away. Their non-use does not appear on any map and sometimes the fact that they are temporarily defunct is not signposted.

We found this to our cost when we were walking half a dozen miles in the Newlands Valley. I suppose it didn’t really matter as all the scenery was beautiful, added to by a day of sun.

Carol, the walker.

On the pavement outside my house were three broken paving slabs. One day the council came along and replaced one of them while the others remained broken. The next day the council sent the lorry along again and replaced to other two broken slabs. What a waste of time, sending the lorry twice and mixing up two lots of concrete

How like our Christian life! Some bad habits are corrected, some wrongs set right, but the fundamental problem of sin remains. The power of sin has not been broken. On our own we repair just part of our lives, while the trouble remains.

Praise God that He make a complete job on us. There are no half measures when God sends His Son to completely and once for all, die for our sins.

I had the occasion to visit a small village in West Cumbria and was stunned by the views of the area. As I drove south I could see the sparkling sea to my right, twinkling in the June sunshine. To my left were the majestic mountains experienced from an angle which tourists seldom see. Central Cumbria has the many visitors, the west is quieter and just as stunning.

As I travelled down small country lanes hoping I wouldn’t meet a tractor and taking note of each passing place, I wondered at the beauty of the area. I could see God’s hand everywhere. How sad to call it ‘mother nature’ and not realise it was created by ‘Father God.’

The hymn writer was able to put the thought into verse –

Heaven above is softer blue, Earth around is sweeter green,

Something lives in every hue, Christless eyes have never seen.

Carol

Yes, that seems a lot, though that was the figure the papers published.

Most of the churches in Carlisle together planned a party to celebrate the Queen’s 90th birthday. The object was to lift the spirits of our City which had suffered so drastically during the floods of the previous December.

People came, the sun shone, bands played, faces were painted, nails were painted, coffee, tea and cakes were freely dispensed, children’s stories told and candy floss licked. The miniature football and picnic areas were well used. Every visitor was handed a booklet about the Queen.

Everything was free and the atmosphere uplifting. Whether people sat, rested, talked, strolled, ate or drank, the spirits of the City were definitely lifted.

Carol, the party-goer.