Hello everyone

LENTEN REFLECTIONS

This week heralds the beginning of the Season of Lent. Over the past forty-eight weeks we have journeyed together praying for the world-wide pandemic Corona virus and its effects on us all, deepening our relationship with God through many different avenues of prayer and we have prayed and meditated on Gods Word through the Scriptures and the thoughts of others.

Today Our opening Prayer starts with “Lent is a time to learn to travel”

Christine and I are going to follow “Lenten Reflections on Thirteen Lesser Reported Followers of Jesus’ Passion” By Rosemary Power – A Wild Goose publication. We invite you to join with us for seven of the Reflections as we lead up to Easter Day. www.ionabooks.com

Lent is a time to learn to travel

Light, to clear the clutter

From our crowded lives and

Find a space, a desert.

Deserts are bleak; no creature

Comforts, only a vast expanse of

Stillness, sharpening awareness of

Ourselves and God

Uncomfortable places, deserts.

Most of the time we’re tempted to

Avoid them, finding good reason to

Live lives of ease; cushioned by

Noise from self-discovery.

Clutching at world’s success

To stave off fear.

But if we dare to trust the silence

To strip away our false security,

God can begin to grow his wholeness in us,

Fill up our emptiness, destroy our fears,

Give us new vision, courage for the journey,

And make our desert blossom like a rose.

From – ‘Waiting for the Kingfisher’ – Ann Lewin

WEEK ONE:  Joseph the carpenter

I come in at the start.

I didn’t hear the end.

Or say a word.

Many a man rears another’s child.

My bride told me. After the pain, the strain,

of living the best I should, and loving more than I could dream.

Called like Ruth to leave the land, my people and my home

to work in tears among the alien corn

that filled my barns with joy.

When the years turned

and we returned to milk and honey

we followed the path through the scrolls

together, in synagogue and home

in dim evenings or the hot night

under the rooftop stars. I taught him.

I told then how we’d fled

for our lives, under the dark; the stark fear and loss of leaving,

saying nothing, fearing all

on the long road to Gaza, chariots kicking dust in the face,

and us parched, but afraid of the proffered lifts and drinks

and hidden costs,

me powerless to protect: he’d seen with toddler eyes.

We reached the sea and the coast ahead – but no waves parted,

though the full boat foundered on the further shore. We lived.

Storytelling’s in the family. I taught him.

In the workshop I taught those hands

to carve and turn, bind and loosen

and work the best, for neighbour, traveller and friend,

soldier and sinner, stranger, leper, child;

then lost him to the vineyards and the hills

and that other father, and to prayer

too silent for a labouring, dreaming man.

He saw me carrying the soldier’s pack in the heat, I sensed

the quick tense anger for his dad, then

his voice soft, curious,

asking the man’s story, listening to wandering years

till the stilled thug found his mile complete.

‘Your lad’ll go far,’ he told me.

I found him talking in the temple, once,

among the men.

I saw the smiles of passing rich, the priestly youth

tolerant of a bright boy and tradesman’s accent.

Was there one

who’d listen in the years he’d come to teach?

It was clear from then

there’d be no compromise,

but love, consideration and firm purpose

that would cross the world in its strength

and cross the powerful in their pride.

He’d join and try the heart and the grain

of the wood for its place

in the workshop of the world.

My time was over and the work passed on,

so, called to other work, I said:

‘Just mind your mum’ to a strong smile, the shine of eyes

wide enough for a region.

We give thanks …

For those who hold families together, who labour that we may eat.

For those who tell stories, where God dwells in the depths.

For the gift of reading the scriptures, and for teachers.

We pray …

For children seeking an education, that their desire might be fulfilled.

For parents seeking to protect their children, through hunger, war or lack of

opportunities.

For children who head families, holding in their loss and putting their hopes

aside.

For refugees on the road and on the sea; for those who have lost loved ones on

the journey, for those prey to people-traffickers, that they may find freedom.

Our own prayers …….. Lord’s Prayer ……

KEEP SAFE ….KEEP PRAYING……Peter