Last week we had a couple of days of stormy weather to contend with. Those of us whose hair is growing rapidly out of shape and is now too long hard to face even worse bad hair days with the strong gusts of wind. It was time to batten down the hatches and hope that not too much damage was done. One morning after a particularly windy night we got up to discover a large branch had broken off in one of our trees in the garden. A rose bush met a similar fate. To say nothing of a lot of petals from flowers covering the ground.

The storm and its aftermath made me think our unique 2020 Covid-19 storm. It has been raging for the whole of this year in some part of the world. It has done untold damage in its wake. Our hearts go out to all who have lost loved ones and dear friends. We feel for all who have been battling the virus and the toil that it has taken. It has raged against industries, economies and employment.

We are still in the middle of the storm at the moment. We do not yet know what life will be like when we come through this particular storm. That uncertainty can be like a storm within us as well. We can only hope that the damage will be as little as possible and that we will be able to pick up our lives and go on as best we can.

Jesus was a pillar of strength when the disciples faced a storm at sea. He was the one who got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

⁴⁰ He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

He is still our pillar of strength. He can say to the storms of uncertainty that rage within us,

 “Quiet! Be still!”

A time to wait

Gordon and I have been going out for a walk every couple of days. We are fortunate to live in Angus as you are never too far from countryside or seaside. We have enjoyed exploring local nature walks and looking at the trees coming into bud and the wildflowers. In particular, the bright yellow of the gorse and broom bushes are quite spectacular.

Seeing them always remind me of Betsy Whyte’s book, ‘Yellow on the Broom’. Betsy was born into a traveller family in 1919 and brought up in the age-old tradition of the ‘mist people’–constantly moving around the country and settling down in one place only during the winter. As a sign that it was time to start traveling again they would wait for the yellow to appear on the broom.

Adam MacNaughtan, the Glasgow songwriter, read the book and then composed a song about it.

I'm weary for the springtime when we tak the road aince mair Tae the plantin and the pearlin and the berry fields o Blair We'll meet up wi oor kin folk frae a' the country roond 

When the gang-aboot folk tak the road and yellow's on the broom.

Betsy and her folk lived their lives appreciating that there was a right time, for them, to do things. A time to stay in one place and a time to move on.

Those words echo the ones found in Ecclesiastes – ‘To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.’

It is our time just now, during the pandemic, to wait. To wait in our homes. To wait on the pavement and shop to let people walk past us at a safe distance. To wait for the news of when things will be changing.

We know that we do not wait alone. God waits with us. This is a time for waiting. And one day, there will be a time for us to move on. 

Giving thanks for the carers

The 12^th May each year is the International Nurses Day. The date chosen as it was the birthday of the founder of modern-day nursing – Florence Nightingale. This year celebrated the 200^th anniversary of her birth. An anniversary that seems rather poignant to remember at this time when we are all coping with life with the corona virus.

I wonder what she would make of it all?

I think she would tip her cap in admiration at all the medical staff and carers, up and down the length of the land who have gone over and beyond the call of duty. We too tip our caps each Thursday at 8pm as we clap in thanks for our carers.

It was a call from God that encouraged Florence herself to embark on her journey into nursing – against family approval. She felt that genuine religion should manifest in active care and love for others. This she displayed in abundance.

She was a strong force of reform in the care of soldiers fighting in the Crimea.

Stephen Paget asserts that Florence reduced the death rate of soldiers from 42% to 2%, partially by implementing hand-washing and other hygiene practices in the war hospital in which she worked. Florence would be first in line today to encourage us to continue with our hand-washing routines. 

She was also known as the Lady with the Lamp. This title stemmed from an article in ‘The Times’ which read:-

She is a "ministering angel" without any exaggeration in these hospitals, and as her slender form glides quietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens with gratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers have retired for the night  and silence and darkness have settled down upon those miles of prostrate sick, she may be observed alone, with a little lamp in her hand, making her solitary rounds.

Today there are many such men and women of the lamp walking the corridors of our hospitals and care homes. May we give thanks to God daily for their care, devotion, and sacrifice.

Longing for freedom

As I was sitting in my study the other day some movement out of my window caught my eye. The most amazing sight of five geese flying across my garden! They were so low that I felt that I could almost reach out and touch them. As I was gathering my breath at this encounter with nature, they flew back across again. Just wonderful. 

They brought to mind the lines from Violet Jacobs' poem ‘The Wild Geese’. 

‘And far abune the Angus straths I saw the wild geese flee,
A lang, lang skein o’ beatin’ wings, wi’ their heids towards the sea,’

It is a poem about longing for home. So many of us can identify with such longing just now. Longing for life to return to the way it used to be. Longing to be able to earn a living again. Longing to do the simple things in life that we used to take for granted – visiting the library, coffee with friends, wandering around the shops. Longing to be reunited with loved ones.

We are called to be patient in these times of longing. Patience is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit and we can tap into that through our faith. Through our belief that God is with us in our longing and can give us the patience to keep going, no matter how tough it can be, until the day when we again have the freedom of the geese to go wherever we want.