Carol Purves

The Carlisle Christian Writers had a great afternoon with a few exercises and readings of our homework ‘Windows’.

Some gave wonderful  expositions on windows, glimpses of heaven and the difference between looking out and looking in.

One  beautiful poem was submitted entitled ‘I can’t hear the blackbird sing’, explaining that with double-glazing we insulate our lives against the plights of others, we don’t hear the cries of those in need, don’t hear the sirens signalling people in distress.  We don’t see the troubles of others with our spiritual double-glazing and it finished with the cry ‘ I want to hear the blackbird sing’.

One member cheated a bit by writing about glass and mirrors, ending with the Biblical quote ‘Now we see a poor reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face’.  And finally quoted a verse by George Herbert, ‘A man may look on glass , on it may stay his eye.  Or if he pleases through it pass and then the heaven espy.’

The subject for the next meeting is ‘What is time?’ 

Keep watching.

Carol, the windowless

Home beckons – walk, train, plane, plane, train, train, taxi.  The walk to the first train was 15 minutes uphill, made worse because my case was so heavy; containing wellies, which I had used a lot, a jacket, shoes and a skirt, which I didn’t use at all.  Everyone, but everyone wore boots, trousers and thick coats. 

The first plane was belatedly scheduled to take off 15 minutes later and the second plane was belatedly scheduled to take off 20 minutes earlier.  I will keep my secret as to how I managed it across Frankfurt airport.

The time gap between the train and the train here in England was 5 minutes.  Managed to make the connection with help.  The taxi, well it was just a very welcome taxi.

Carol, the European traveller

Sorry I’ve been off the air for a while.  Computer trouble.  Solved by good friends.  Thankyou.

During my nine day visit to Austria I did a great deal of child minding (18 month old & 4 1/2 years).  I was able to red to them in German although I didn’t really know what I was reading.  They listened well.  Maybe they were fascinated by my pronounciation.

We spent one day in Weithoven, full of memorials, especially those to record the defeat of the Turks.  Train journeyed to the other set of grandparents and my friends own home, Voecklabruck.  Right opposite a park, ideal for the children.

No tourist shops, so my home friend got no presents.  Sorry.  To be in Austria at Easter was fascinating.  At the Lutherian church there were services Friday, Sunday and Monday.  Managed two services, but the local dialect of German meant I could only join with the lords Prayer and a collect, quietly in English.  Good Friday hymns slow and sombre so I followed with my finger.  Easter Sunday fast and lively, so I didn’t stand a chance.

The shops and homes I visited all had decorations of small eggs suspended from twigs of pussy willow and winter jasmine.   I hope to create my own.

Culinarywise , I discovered that each meal consisted of just one course (at least where I was staying) either savory or sweet.  I didn’t have a chance to visit famous Austrian cake shops

To be concluded ……………

Carol, the non-German dialect speaking English woman

One of the advantages of having friends in other countries is it gives an excuse for them to be visited.  Two friends with their two small boys living between Salzburg and Vienna necessitated a visit.

As the plane rose up from Manchester Airport the brilliant white snow-covered mountains soon blended with the brilliant white clouds.  Beautiful and I ws still in England.

My German is limited but I found that a smile and a few ‘danke sehns’ could get me through anything.  Changing planes at the large Frankfurt Airport I arrived at the small Salzberg Airport.

The views from the train on the way to Amstetten revealed Christmas card views of Austrian villas deeply covered in snow.  My wellies were going to be useful (good, as they were very heavy)  Darkness had fallen when I was met by my friend and her father and driven a further 15 miles (you can work it out in kilometres) where we stayed at her isolated parents home high up in the mountains.  They laughed at me for calling it high up, as when daylight arrived the next morning, I could see why; there was much more up and up.

to be continued ………..

Carol, the European traveller

The Carlisle Christian Writers meetings are fun and we hope beneficial to our writing. 

Our  speaker this time was one of our members, who spoke on the ‘mechanics of poetry’ and introduced us to different styles of poetry, where the metre, stress and rhythm vary.  We all learnt a great deal and personally I realised how difficult poetry writing is.

Space, was the subject of our homework which we approached in different ways.   One member played a CD by Thomas in Alium, centuries old yet relevant for today.  We likened it to angels singing.

One member wrote of the teenagers plea ‘I just want my own space’, no doubt a long suffering parent.  Another observant person wrote of two dog walkers passing daily in the park and shouting ‘hello’ whenever they met and yet when they saw each other on the train, ignoring each other.  The lack of space seemed to make a difference.

A prose poem was offered and ‘If I could rent a space’ and ‘What is space?’ were the titles of two other pieces of work.  ‘There is space in a matchbox’ observed another.  That needed thinking about.

Our exercise for the afternoon was to write a book review on one of the books of the Bible and the others guess which.  – Job, Ruth, Esther, Habakkuk, Psalms, Jeremiah and others were tackled.

It’s a pity some of you don’t live nearer; you would have enjoyed the afternoon.

Carol, the co-ordinator

‘The red of the rust blended with the red of the blood that was dripping down the handle of the axe, over the fist that held it and down to mingle with the dirt on the ground.

Gladys stared into the demented eyes of the axeman.If ever she needed the protection of her God it was now.  Thoughts of Moses, Gideon, Daniel, Samson all floated through her mind.  God had saved them, the same God whom she worshipped.  Her simple logic told her, He would save her, but she was afraid.

‘God help me, help me now’.  She held out a shaking hand, her dark brown eyes still firmly fixed on the man.

‘Give – it – to – me’.

In a quiet authoritative voice she spoke the words slowly in her best Mandarin.

She waited.  The prisoners huddled round the walls waited.  The governor and officials outside the locked door waited.  Even the birds seemed to hush their song and the wind paused on its journey across the mountains.  Would the axeman obey the simple order or would he add Gladys to his victims?’

What happens next?  To find out you can buy my book Chinese Whispers from www.dayone.co.uk  01568 613 740

Carol, the author

It was great to have a writers’meeting in another part of Cumbria.  The day started overcast but by the afternoon the sun had managed to make holes in the clouds.  Life is so much better in sunshine.

2nd March, Spring has officially arrived and nature has caught on to the fact.  Along the waysides there were swathes of snowdrops like fallen stars onto the lush grass.  Sheep were munching in the fields; although I’d been told there were lambs in the region, I didn’t see them. 

As the gradient rose I caught sight of the views all around.  I hadn’t expected any snow to still be lying; but there it was like discarded tissues in the crevices of the hills.  If the snow continues to lie, it’s waiting for more to join it, so the country saying goes. Rivers were not in spate, a reminder that rain will be coming to increase their volume and in Cumbria when it starts to rains, it forgets to stop.  You can tell I’ve been to a writers’ meeting by my eloquence!

Don’t say all this comes about by accident; I have to believe it is all there for a purpose being for us to enjoy .

Carol, the country lover

I’ve proved it’s possible to get a cheap train fare as I managed to pay about half what I usually have to pay for a 350 mile journey.  Can’t be bad.

Although I was only going away for a few days, I started out on one of the few days of the year with the whole country under snow, from the north in Carlisle to beyond London.  But I don’t need a `sympathy vote, it had all cleared the next day.

Going back to my original area I noticed quite a few changes, not all for the better.

Meeting old friends, eating sumptuous meals and looking around took up most of my time.  Sunday was spent visiting my old church, where some faces were missing and some were new.  The encouraging thing was the gospel message was the same as it always has been and what I am used to up north.

Carol, not an Essex Girl.

No this isn’t a second take on James Bond; the hero of my book was born in Prussia, a country no longer in existence.

George Muller, born in Prussia in 1805 started life as a thief, womanizer and heavy drinker.  By the grace of God he repented and for the rest of his long life spent his time in serving others.  As part of the Brethren movement, he moved round England, lived in Exeter and Bristol, where he eventually started a number of children’s homes where thousands of children were saved from the unhealthy streets and lives of poverty, prostitution and begging. 

The remarkable thing was that George never appealed for money, but prayed to God for the provision of his needs.  There are numerous stories of his prayers being answered in a number of ways.

Although the work as such does not exist today, the Muller Foundation works among the elderly and with needy families in churches.

My book about George Muller, entitled From Prussia with Love recounts all these stories and many more facts about his godly life.  Read the story for yourself, obtainable from www.dayone.co.uk or from myself.

Carol, the writer

Thank you to the dozens of you who visited my web-site and e-mailed me after reading my meditation in the Upper Room, especially those from America.

In brief what I wrote was –

Two football team played a home derby.  When the visiting team won, a supporter said that they won because they played with passion.  Which begged the question, are we passionate in serving God?  Biblical references – Hebrews 12:1 and Phil 3:14.

Carol