I'll do it my way.

Jesus asked the man "Do you want to be made well?" The man did not answer the question, instead he gave the reason why he did not get into the pool. Nothing at all to do with the question Jesus had asked him.
The man was blaming the world around him, or rather the lack of helpful companions for his reason for not getting into the pool. It was somebody else's fault that he did not walk. He did not even address the question of whether he really wanted to be well. If he was well he might have to be fully responsible for himself, he might have to work, he could not rely on his disability for his inability to fend for himself.
How often do I make an excuse without addressing the underlying reason for my current state? How often do I leave Jesus out of the equation? How often do I ask him to help me into the water without expecting him to heal me in his own way? How often do I tell him what I want him to do? All I have is a stationary view from the poolside, he is the one walking around who can see the whole picture.

good wine

We are in the midst of the season of excess. The fridge is overflowing with scraps. The massacred  turkey and remains of the turkey curry, a half used jar of mincemeat. There is still plenty of food to be eaten. We hoard food at Christmas as if the shops still close for a week though life has changed. One of our village shops is open normal hours on Christmas Day - 7 30 am until 10 pm. But still I bought with a fear at the back of my mind that we might run out of food or drink. It is even worse when one gives a party and is not sure how many people will arrive, you do not know their appetites. The 'will there be enoughs' is a real fear.
Jesus went to a party where the calculations were wrong. Not wrong that they had so much food left that they did not know which shelter to take the left overs to. They ran out of wine, and at a wedding. How embarrassing. Jesus' mother came to the rescue. "Fix it" she whispered. Typical son answer "Not ready" Why do they never give a straight answer? I wonder how many times Jesus had "fixed it" at home? He did now too. he got some wine and good wine too.
The man in charge of the party had got it wrong and Jesus provided the best wine ever tasted in place of an empty jar. I find it a great relief that Jesus can take my embarrassing situations and make some good wine from them.

Sore

Sore nipples. It was winter, January. There was snow on the ground. One of the dogs, Bongo, had to have his cast off as he had a broken foot (another story). A friend was coming to lunch. The old car decided that this was the day to take to its deathbed.  David came home frozen after trying to sort out the dog and the car. My nipples were sore and the baby hungry. I was the sole solution for the hunger. I had to overcome the pain and feed the babe. I still remember the pain, I still remember the toothless grin looking up at me as Matthew took a rest from his guzzling. I still remember Matthew though he is no more. A mother does not forget her baby.
God remembers each one of us more than that.

"In Bruges"

Judas left to go to the Jewish leaders. He was going to betray Jesus. Jesus knew what was going to happen and his comment was "Now the Son of Man has been glorified". He knew that the next step would be a mock trial culminating his cries for his blood. Cries that would be conceded to by the Roman authorities. Crucifixion  would be the result. Crucifixion, the lowest of the low in methods of capital punishment was good enough for our God.
Four letter words, colloquial language for excretion keep coming to mind. It happens. Jesus saw the whole picture and was able to see that the end was Glory to God. We only see a small fraction of the picture.

Yesterday we went to Bruges, saw a few Old Masters. We did not see them as the artist saw them. The paintings had experienced the effects of life. We do not see our life in the same way as our Creator does. He sees the whole picture in all its newly painted glory.


Picture
Crucifixion (1626); Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk, Brugge, Belgium
Anthony van Dyck 


This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or fewer.

Footsteps in the snow

All our children have biblical names. We thought we would like three children and so chose three sets of boys names and three of girls, none of the first initials being the same or the same as our first initial.
Thomas Daniel
Stephen James
Matthew Peter

Rebecca Mary
Naomi Ruth
and the one we did not need
Lydia Sarah.

Most of the names were chosen primarily because we liked the name but we were also influenced by the character of the person, especially Stephen.

Stephen, a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit. Today is St Stephen's day. 

The first time I was aware of St Stephen was nothing to do the the man himself. It was Good King Wenceslas, one of my favourite carols. I loved the story of the King noticing a suffering subject then trudging through the snow with his page in tow in search of the old man who lived by St Agnes Fountain. The snow was crisp and even. How seldom is snow crisp and even. I still have a fascination with crisp and even snow, particularly in forests. In the snowy winter two years ago we lived across the road from a forest. It was magical for me.

King Wenceslas was a man motivated by compassion. He strode through cold deep snow to bring relief. His page followed, his way made easier by following in his master's  footsteps.   

Both Wenceslas and Stephen are patterns to follow. Compassionate and caring, personifications of faith and the Holy Spirit. I pray this for our Stephen too.

Beginning and End

How much is Jesus the beginning and end of my day? Do I say hello to him the moment I get up and is he the last person who I talk to before I go to sleep? Do I talk to him at lunchtime too?
I sort cover the first one as I read my bible as I drink my wake up cup of tea. I am not so sure about the rest of the day.

His Name is John

Jubilation at the naming of his baby boy, the boy born in his old age, the child he thought he would never have. No wonder Zechariah was filled with thankfulness for God. he had been the first person that God had told about this plan. He had scoffed at the idea so much so that God had given him a sign, the sign of a no voice from the announcement of the plan until this day. Imagine Zechariah going home and explaining to Elizabeth that he could not speak because God had spoken to him and they were going to have a child. God had spoken to him! Yes, of course I believe you! Elizabeth came round after she was pregnant, she supported the idea of the out of family name, John.
Now Zechariah speaks. His will is at one with God's will. He is filled with the Holy Spirit.
May my will be aligned with yours O Lord. May I hear your promptings and act upon them.

My friend believes we had a minor miracle with a Russian doll with 10 babies for her grandaughter.


Picture
http://www.dinodirect.com/wholesale-russian-dolls-nesting-matryoshka.html

My opinion on those who pontificate

I hate it when people drone on and on giving us their opinion. The one that I really hate are those who have one child and tell the rest of us who, in my case have four live children how to raise a child. I get restless and want to give my opinion too but usually they are talking so much that it is difficult to get a word in edgeways. I become frustrated. 

Now I am going to pontificate. I apologise before I start.

If I follow a set of rules I feel guilty when I err from the path. In fact I often feel guilty for not doing this or doing that though usually my guilt is of omission. Guilt implies that there must be a set of rules but Jesus came to free us from the rules. That was the 'Church Leaders' problem with him,  Healing on the Sabbath was his main offence- acting in a loving way towards mankind. Two things in general motivated Jesus' every action- magnifying God and loving actions towards people. 

No what is the right thing to do by Jewish Law. I believe he acted every moment by instructions received on his internal telephone line from his father. And this was before the days of GSMs.

Photograph

({{Information |Description= The Android Emulator home screen. |Source= http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Android_home.png |Date= |Author= Unamed102 |Permission= |other_versions= }}Category:Free screenshots )

Magnify the Lord

Mary was  betrothed yet pregnant and but she could say "My soul magnifies the Lord". Magnifies, makes bigger. In my hunky-dory life how much do I make God seem larger then life to those I meet?

Tuesday  20th December

Today I wrote the page for our church meditation book so I am taking a short cut and sharing that with you. The reading is from the UK lectionary rather than the Daily Office readings. It is short, I was filling in for somebody who had failed to give in their meditation. As usual we were well behind schedule.

Like the sentiment of the thought it is little.  Most of our life is made up little things yet each of them is important to God and so it should be to us too.

Matthew 19:13–15 

Matthieu 19:13-15

Little children are enthusiastic, they sometimes say things that they should not. They get in the way of the important things that grown ups want to talk about.

Am I so self absorbed that I do not notice the little things in life?

Les petits enfants sont enthousiastes, ils disent parfois des choses qu'ils ne devraient pas. Ils obtiennent de la manière des choses importantes que les adultesveulent parler.

Suis-je si l'auto absorbée que je ne remarque pas les petites choses de la vie?

http://holytrinitybrussels.blogspot.com/

My mother-in- law and the 'what-ifs'

What do you buy for the person who has everything that they want for Christmas?
One year I bought my mother- in- law a book of poetry. I don't know what possessed me to do that. I cannot even remember if I knew that she read poetry.

My mother-in - law liked books but she only had two shelves of them. Those books were very precious. Perhaps my father-in-law thought that buying books was too frivolous. My mother-in-law passed on her love for books to her son. Later today I will try to find this book of poetry. It was by Frank Topping, a Methodist minister who often spoke on the radio. It is either  in the 32 boxes of books that we have waiting to be unpacked or on the many shelves distributed around the house and filled in a very random order- the order in which they were found or fitted.

Iris' life was full of anxiety, "Be careful-  what-if..." were thoughts and words that were common to her. One poem met her where she was in her worry. It was something about a letter which might be bringing bad news fell through the front door onto the doormat. Letters meant anxiety. But Frank Toppings letter brought good news and relief.

Iris bemoaned the time and energy she had spent on worry, time when she could have enjoyed the present rather than be anxious about the future.

We had the poem read at her funeral.

My Friend Pat

This is Pat's favourite verse. My friend Pat died on Monday in April 2008 but I use the present tense because she does not believe in death. Pat was just going to join her two sweethearts, Ric and Jesus.

We drank coffee and put the church to rights. Sometimes we went to church, the special midweek Wednesday service which I have told you about, sometimes we went to lunch and sometimes we did both. But we talked, then we talked some more.
It was a minor miracle that Pat could talk and walk at all. She had lived through lung cancer and a stroke. Her hub had been told that she would always need care, probably would not talk properly and the likelihood of a normal life was minimal.

Pat had a fake grass carpet on her patio and in part of the garage. The garage had a little table and chairs, like a summer house. Pat went there to smoke. She knew she was doing herself no good.

Pat had a lot of tales. My favourite was her recounting of going to buy her coffin. She and her husband did this before he died. There was a sale on coffins so she bought one. She liked the idea that she was not even paying full price for her final resting place.
My next favourite was the one about the lady being raped a the store on the east of Houston. Pat was a district personal manager. The manager of the store involved called Pat to tell her about the problem. her reply was "I think you should call your local police. They will get there sooner than me." (The end of the story is long and complicated. For some reason the woman was just shouting wolf.)
There was also one about their move into investing in real estate. They bought a 'ranch' in the country. It consisted of a shed. They used to visit it for picnics but that was as far as it went.

I still miss Pat and our conversations. Often I think "I must tell Pat that. She would have a good laugh over that." There is no Pat to visit. I don't even live near her house any longer. But I do have the memories of the joy and the faith that we share.

Prison visiting

La Prison de Saint-Gilles

Perhaps we gained some heavenly brownie points yesterday. We did some prison visiting. La Prison de Saint-Gilles is imposing, dominating the streets of the neighbourhood. It is old and outdated. It is condemned. In 3 years it will close. Edith Cavell was here before she was taken to the firing line. It was almost as difficult to enter as for an inmate to get out.

It seemed strange ringing the doorbell of a prison almost like Gandalf finding the right word to open the great dwarf Doors of Durin. A little door in a big gate leading to another.Another bell to be pressed, another door opening remotely from the interior. Thus we started the process of getting into the prison.
A man behind a glass screen, no friendly greeting. We handed in our identity cards. Nothing untoward in this. For David and I it was a slight problem as the glass screen only barked in french, well maybe flemish too but we did not test that. Returned was a photocopy and a number. It was the number of a locker, the receptacle for everything electronic and metallic. We survived.

It is general practice in Belgium for women to be known by their maiden name on official documents throughout their life. Since I was so old when we arrived in the country and all my other legal documents were in my married name we managed to be allowed an exception. However one of our party, much younger, I must add followed the local customs for official dealings and english customs for all other matters such as introducing herself to friends and church. Church had the wrong surname on the prospective list of carol singers. That was a problem for the glass screen. Sally is a very friendly person with a big smile, a big heart and fluent french. But Sally is not Sally she is Sarah. Not only is her ID card in her maiden name it has also the official name of Sarah. Two wrong names for one person and one card. Definitely suspicious. Higher authorities had to be appealed to. Fortunately the one ID number for the two people was sufficient for the nod from The Director.

Across the gateway to the metal detector. Here we caught up with Lynda who was in a state of undressing. Coat off, jacket off, shoes off. Maybe the little earrings. Every time she took off a layer the alarm rang. The next layer would render her indecent not that there was metal in those items of clothing. The worst thing was that the prison officers seemed to be treating us with suspicion rather than as an assorted group of churchgoers about to sing to those in captivity.
It was the pin in the wrist causing the problem. A necessity after a bicycle fall in the summer.

Eventually we were all in. We sang. They listened. They clapped. They sang with us. They clapped as we sang. They smiled as we sang. We chatted. We went our separate ways. Them behind the locked doors, us onto the snowy streets. I remember their smiles. I hope they remember the love of Jesus whihc took us there on the winters night.


Coincidence?
I was thinking that I would like to write about this incident. We read the Lectionary for today which is my usual source for a verse. It was there waiting for me.

Photograph http://www.brusselspictures.com/2009/06/16/prison-de-saint-gilles/

Growing to God

I have a garden. If I plant a few seeds then I will get even more plants. Or I can leave the land fallow and grow some more grass and wild flower seeds. If I grow vegetables my land is being put to use and my tummy is being filled.

If I share my pleasure in mathematics perhaps others will come to like it too- I failed here with my daughters.

Here I am attempting to share my joy bible reading and trying to keep a mind open to what might be promptings from God. I hope my joy will be increased by you joining me in this journey to Jesus.

Glory and elbow grease to God

Today might be short and not just because I am busy. Most of the readings today praise God and that is just what I am going to do.

Whilst making Pumpkin Bread- give thanks for people who have given us this cake- Janice & Parkes Craig, Leah Taylor.

Give thanks for the ingredients and all the places where they have come from. Should I be using spices that have travelled so far but surely yes for such a special occasion- the celebration of your birth.

Shopping in the village give thanks that there are shops in the village

Walking the dogs give thanks for the beauty of creation as they sniff their way through the lanes lined with orange and red and rust fallen leaves

Cleaning the house after the attic conversion give thanks for the extra room as I remove the 3mm of dust from the whole house. How can work at the top make so much mess at the bottom?

It is always good to take time to praise God for his bountifulness. Yes it is always possible to find somebody with a bigger house, a better car, more children, less children, an organized life, no problems buying what they want when they want it.

But today is the day that God has given me and thus I will give him glory and honour and power. Praise and thanks and elbow grease.

Rich clothes for a festival.

You know what it is like. You see the sign "Closing Down. Everything must go" and all you can do is go in. I fell for that this summer. There was a dress in the window which I liked so in I went. Well the bright red dress in the window and I were not the same same and neither was another bright red dress but they did have a fawn one that fitted quite well. A very different sort of dress. It was a great bargain- a rich dress that I could afford. I bought it and wore it to the wedding.

Two versions of verse 4 are rich garments and festal clothes. Special clothes to signify our new relationship with God. The relationship that exists after he has taken off the clothing of our sin. I think this makes me want to wear my best clothes all the time.

Jesus is coming to dinner

I don't have to invite him. He is coming anyway. In fact it probably would not occur to me to invite him- he's somewhere out there- not in my daily life.

He says that he is already standing at the door and knocking. Oh, dear. What's in the fridge that I can make into something presentable for a king? Panic. What shall I do? Dither. Perhaps if I stand in a quandary long enough the knocking will stop and he will go away and I can carry on with what I was doing.

I wonder what he wanted to say to me? What was that thought that would not quite come into my conscientiousness?

Today is a day for new beginnings

There was an envelope lurking in one of the dining table piles. In it I found the CD of photographs which Sharon had taken whilst we were in Wyoming. In Wyoming we rested and we walked. We ate and we talked. It was a time away from work and the piles on the dining room table. It was a time to renew or at least recharge our energy batteries.

But in fact every day is a day for a new beginning. Today I am starting the rest of my life. Every day is a birthday when we should celebrate the life that we have been given. It is a day to rejoice. A day give thanks for the wonderful world in which we live. A day to thank God that He is here, with us. We have our own special reasons for celebrating.

Of course there is the flip side-responsibility. Responsibility for maintaining the planet. World peace will not exist without humans being peaceable, Responsibility to be with God since he is with me...

Moses- murderer and divorcee.

Moses' name cropped up in the gospel today and then in something else (Scripture Union, Closer to God- paper version) that I was reading. Moses of burning bush fame, the man God had earmarked to lead the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt. The man who later talked to God face to face as a man speaks with his friend. (Exodus 33:11) This is the same Moses who killed an Egyptian, maybe as a result of racial aggression, thought it was OK and when he found that it was not, ran away. He married an alien though of course it was not taboo when he did it as he had yet to write, with God's help, the foundation of the Law. Moses worked long hours and neglected his wife and family. His wife took the sons and left, not once but twice.

And yet Moses planted the Ten Commandment in Moses' heart and talked with him face to face as a man speaks with his friend.

God accepted Moses as a friend. Moses accepted God as a friend.

God placed Moses in a position of authority.

We search the scriptures to find the rules for our leaders, who can, who cannot, male, female, legally pure. We have a long list and it changes from church to church as we choose to interpret what we read.

But God chose Moses and Moses chose God. and they talked face to face as a man speaks with his friend.

May I have the love of God in me.

Burning Bush, Common Presbyterian Logo, created by theKeith

Don't stop to think.

Our main route to Brussels is through a little forest. Between our village and the next town there is the deer warning sign. Deer can do a lot of damage to themselves and the car with which they coincide.

We were once driving between Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Parks at dusk when an elk decided that it had to cross the road. The driver of the car which hit the elk was really shaken. We do not know what happened to the elk as it turned and ran back into the forest.

I always hope, particularly at night that a deer does not cross my route because I would be doing too fast to prevent a casualty. Deer just don't STOP, LOOK, LISTEN before they cross the road. If they want to cross the road then cross they do.

What am I equally bent on achieving? What makes me put down everything so that I can concentrate on the ONE which keeps me going? What do I just HAVE to do? I hope it is no longer Sudoku. Hopefully for at least Advent it is sharing my stories of Jesus.

Simple arches, simple prayer

Yesterday I went to England for the day. It's not so far really. I drove, I took a friend. We went to Canterbury, to the cathedral.

Even though I instinctively gravitate towards the more contemporary style of worship ancient places of worship always have a special place in my heart. The fact that people have been quietly moving about the space, silently praying for a thousand years is an awesome thought.

We sat in the Chapel of the Holy Innocents in the crypt of the cathedral. A Romanesque space, simple arches simply decorated, simple spirals on short stout columns.

The masons who carved them rested from their labours, I was resting from my walking. How many others had rested in that same space? From what were they resting? What was their prayer - in the silence conversing with God?

The masons carved those pillars with an axe, the chisel had not yet been invented. Work done to the Glory of God. And it still is. I shared their space. May my work be to Your Glory too.

Photograph

This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

Your time, my time

Five verses each four lines long so when we get through two lines of the third verse we are half way through. They say that the average time for a hymn is seven minutes. Now I need a piece of paper- the service sheet will suffice- good job they provide pencils in the pews- what was it that I want to buy, need to do this afternoon?

Unfortunately these are all thoughts and actions of mine during a Sunday Service. What difference is there between me and Amos' audience?

I could at least devote the time that I am in church to God then perhaps later we can work on 24/7.

An oasis

Today is Tuesday but it should be Wednesday. This is a Wednesday verse.

For with you is the well of life: and in your light shall we see light.

The deep down cold refreshing water drawn up and given to me. The well from which I am given the water of life. How do I get this water? I come and drink.

This verse was one of the lines in the liturgy of the Wednesday healing and communion service at Holy Spirit Episcopal Church in Houston. It was my oasis in the drought of the week.

Sundays I went to the Contemporary Service, a good ole sing and some prayers. A time of worship. We stood to sing and we stood to pray. Well some people sat but I don't hold with that.

The Wednesday service was different. It was quiet. It was an agglomeration of people from all three Sunday services drawn together by a desire for the quenching waters of Christ. We came to the well to drink.

Often I did not go to the Wednesday service because I was working. Seldom did I not go when I had the opportunity. As a moth is drawn towards light I came to the light. I do not understand why moths go to light and I do not understand why I found it necessary to go to church on a Wednesday but I do know that there there was peace.

^{John 14:27}

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Photograph desert_oasis_by_wonenownlee

Plumb-Line

Ever since I discovered plumb-lines I have been fascinated by them. How can a weight on the end of a string be so mesmerizing? Such a simple thing and yet so informative and technically. Another instance of how those of 2500 years ago were just as advanced as us. But I just sit and watch. The line hangs, pulled by gravity directly to the centre of the earth making the perfect three dimensional right angle. This is so simple and yet so awesome, more so than the autumnal fall of leaves or the cry of a newborn babe.

God built the true wall. God is holding the plumb-line, he is measuring his own work. What a relief. We do not have to build ourselves we only have to allow God to work in us.

Why the picture of a ruin? Lonely Planet Belgium describes the Abbaye de Villers-la-Ville as one of the most beautiful places in Belgium. It is indeed very peaceful. I am sure that the monks who were living there at the time of its destruction by the French in 1796 were distraught at leaving their spiritual home. God works in mysterious ways, even through ruins. He sees walls from a different angle. His is the true view.

Pecking Order

Our dogs fight. It irritates me. When my hand gets bitten as it did last week whilst I was trying to separate them during a fight it does a lot more than irritate me. It hurt. Usually they squabble because they cannot decide who is the boss, the alpha, the one who 'waters' the blade of grass first.There used to be a programme on BBC radio called "Does he take sugar?". It was a help for handicapped people. Sometimes we who are fit really do treat handicapped people as if they are not quite right in the head just because they maybe cannot see or hear or walk. So it was with Zechariah. He could not speak so rather than ask him what to call his son they asked his wife! Zechariah was only appealed to after the neighbours did not like his wife's answer.

This leads to two questions. Do I keep asking questions until I get the answer I want or am I prepared to listen to God straight away? Do I give people the respect they deserve or go by outward appearances?

Quiet Day- Devoted to prayer.

Today was the Holy Trinity Brussels Ladies Quiet Day. It was a quiet day, not silent but gentle like waves lapping against the wall. One of the first Sunday Schools I was sent to was in a church by an estuary. When the tide was in we heard the waves going slip slop on the other side of the wall. It was like that today. We were not hasty, it was a day away from the rush, a day out the ordinary Saturday runs. We sat and listened, we prayed and sang and we shared ourselves.

Out side the walls the city moved as usual. The trams rumbled by, cars and people bustled on their pre Saint Nicholas, pre Christmas, normal Saturday schedule. Passing by the Friends of Jesus Centre they had no knowledge of the peace within. I looked out, I heard the trams, I saw the ladies wrapped up in their coats hanging onto their hats in the wind. They knew nothing of the peace that we were sharing. How can you tell from the outside? Is it the same with faces as it is with façades?

How can I tell what pain is behind the faces on the street? Jesus seemed to know and sense inner anguish. How can I grow his sensitivity?

Acts 2:42 They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

Today we listened to teaching, we shared a banquet and we prayed. I pray that I be devoted to prayer.

photograph

http://www.churchinwales.org.uk/parishholding/david/d318-en/churches-en/st-tudwals_-en/church_view

Stone Mansions

We think that we are so successful, that our generation has progressed mankind yet over 2500 years ago the upwardly mobile were building their over-sized stone houses. What has really changed?

What are the really important things in life? I was listening to the BBC this morning. They had a interview with a man from Halfords- the chain of shops which sells accessories for cars- roof-racks, spare windscreen wipers, wash-cloths, you name it for cars but also bikes. He was saying how much their automotive sales have fallen recently and how much their bike sales have risen, partly due to a movement to respect the world that God has given us. Stone houses and all that goes into them are not environmentally friendly and that begins with the moment the first stone is hewn from the mountain where it was 'grown'.

Looking after God's world is only a small part of the good that we can do but it is a start. Just as not cutting the first stone it is a step towards in an attitude that takes God into account in all that we do.

Getting to Know You

2 Peter 3:18

The King and I was one of the first movies which I remember going to. I was enthralled. Anna and the King built a relationship, probably based more on mutual respect rather than love. But that knowledge went some way to starting a relationship.

The more you love somebody, the more you want to spend time with them. The more time you are with them the more you know them. You learn more about their good points- and the bad. But if you love them those bad aspects do not stop you wanting to spend time with the person. I am glad God loves me!

However Peter is exhorting us to grow in the knowledge of our Lord and I am purporting that the way to do this is to spend time with God. I can read about Isaac Newton, I can even attempt to read- though probably only slightly understand his writings but I will never know him and that is not only because he is dead. It is the same with Queen Elizabeth II, not that I know if she has actually written works herself though we did meet her cellulose self through Helen Mirren.

We can read books and watch biographical movies but nothing is a replacement for a first hand encounter for creating a real knowledge of a person.

When we were reading the Daily Devotion this morning this verse reminded me of a marriage. In our 37 years together we have our days when the bad parts seem to be emphasised too much but nothing can change the fact that we love each other. My mother told me soon after we were married that she had gone to our wedding intending to be sad and cry but that I looked so happy that sadness had no place.

We, the church are Christ Bride, how awesome is that. Let us grow in the knowledge of our husband by spending time with him.

Now I am going to spend some time with Jesus.