Psalm 16, 17
1 Peter 3:13-4:6
John 16:1-15
Psalm 16
Cups
We are in the midst of having our kitchen redecorated. I have certainly been assigned a lot of cups! Unfortunately most of them have some memory associated with them so it is difficult for me to give them away which is probably what I should do. I could take a photograph of each and write a little about it and then give them to the thrift shop thereby supporting somebody less fortunate than me, somebody who has not been assigned so many cups.
There are the mugs which David and I each had when we were in college. Perhaps some of the memories that I keep with those could best be aired in a confessional. There is the cup that my Grandmother used daily for her afternoon cup of tea, it is white china with pink roses, just the same shade of pink as the rose tree in my yard. It is covered with blooms.
The cup I use for my coffee every Saturday morning commemorates the Welsh poet Waldo Williams. The first time I remember anything about Waldo was when we were driving by the prison in Swansea- it is near the sea front. My mother commented that Waldo Williams was in there. Why that was significant to my mother I do not know. He was in prison for refusing to pay income tax as a protest against the Korean War.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waldo_Williams
I learnt poetry by Waldo for the Urdd Eisteddfod and even won prizes for reciting it though I had know knowledge of the language. The poems were music to my ears.
http://www.100welshheroes.com/en/biography/waldowilliams
Later after he started working again when conscription finished he became friendly with my 'almost parents' and we saw Waldo every weekend. He was gentle and kind with a large smile.
Yes I have my cup. The precious people who God has placed in my path, those who have led me and supported me.
There are the mugs which David and I each had when we were in college. Perhaps some of the memories that I keep with those could best be aired in a confessional. There is the cup that my Grandmother used daily for her afternoon cup of tea, it is white china with pink roses, just the same shade of pink as the rose tree in my yard. It is covered with blooms.
The cup I use for my coffee every Saturday morning commemorates the Welsh poet Waldo Williams. The first time I remember anything about Waldo was when we were driving by the prison in Swansea- it is near the sea front. My mother commented that Waldo Williams was in there. Why that was significant to my mother I do not know. He was in prison for refusing to pay income tax as a protest against the Korean War.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waldo_Williams
I learnt poetry by Waldo for the Urdd Eisteddfod and even won prizes for reciting it though I had know knowledge of the language. The poems were music to my ears.
http://www.100welshheroes.com/en/biography/waldowilliams
Later after he started working again when conscription finished he became friendly with my 'almost parents' and we saw Waldo every weekend. He was gentle and kind with a large smile.
Yes I have my cup. The precious people who God has placed in my path, those who have led me and supported me.
1 comment:
Orthodox? I'd say yes... very interesting message your post for Friday of Second Easter (4 Apr 08) suggested and I went seeking.
"It’s certain that Williams is the only Welsh language poet to be quoted by an Archbishop Of Canterbury. In an attempt to define what is life during a sermon in an international conference in New York in 2003, Rowan Williams stated the Welsh poet was as close as any to the definition in his poem Pa Beth Yw Dyn (What Is Man), when he wrote ‘Cael neuadd fawr/Rhwng cyfyng furiau’ (“Inhabiting a great hall/between narrow walls)."
Hope I can find this poem translated to English.
Post a Comment