Time Waits for Nobody

I arrived at my first church full of the enthusiasm of youth and the newly graduated. I was ready to evangelise the parish. But before we begin that said the church officials there are some vital repairs that need doing and the church organ is badly in need of repair or replacement. So fundraising began and slowly but surely the church buildings were looking in great shape. Now we can start to evangelise the parish. “We still need to replace the organ,” said the session clerk. So another year of fundraising and a new organ was purchased. “Now we can evangelise the parish,” said the session clerk. “Well,” said I, “we could but I have been called to another church and parish. The evangelising of the parish will have to wait for the new minister.”


So I arrived at my second Church and parish. At the first meeting I was made aware of the seriousness of the church roof. The plaster was in danger of falling in on the congregation to serious injury. Also there was the problem of church out buildings there was a real serious health and safety issue there also. So the first year we spent with a group of volunteers repairing the roof. The next few years fundraising and repairing the halls and buildings. The place was looking good. The session clerk said, “What was it you had in mind to evangelise the parish?” “Well I had all sorts of ideas but I have been called to another church and the evangelisation will have to be done by the next minister.

I moved again to a lovely parish nestled under the hills. Here I was aware of a real shortage of accommodation. The problem could be solved by rebuilding the old garages and washrooms and servants quarters at the back of the manse. Volunteers were called for and the massive building project began. After a great deal of effort and dedicated toil the church boasted a beautiful suit of halls and offices.

“Now,” said the Kirk Session, “we can begin that project you had in mind to evangelise the parish.” “Sadly,” I said, “I have decided to return to university and take up the challenge of teaching. It has been pointed out to me that I have a skill at communication and maybe I should put it to use. I hope the new minister is successful at evangelising the parish.”

Isn’t it amazing how we can always find time for things, but often never for the things we should be doing. All the dreams and projects that are laid aside and time made for other things. We have no time, is the clarion call.

This blog is linked to my other blog where the artwork used is discussed:- The Mirage

Barriers

Have you noticed the increase in the use of barriers in modern society? Some are being erected because of the increased threat of terrorism others because of growing awareness of health and safety. Where in the past there was an open concourse in front of the houses of Parliament now there are very large concrete barriers. They have tried to disguise them to make them less obtrusive but they are still there as a constant reminder of the daily threat.


No all the far from Parliament is Downing Street the residence of the Prime Minister and Chancellor. I remember being able to walk through this street passed the famous Number 10. Now they have erected large iron gates manned daily by police. This is of course in Great Britain but I am sure it is the same elsewhere.

I have two souvenirs of barriers of history. I have a piece of the Berlin Wall, just a small section but enough to see some of the graffiti that covered the wall. This was a barrier erected to keep people in and to keep people out. My other souvenir is a section of the fence from the nuclear base in Scotland, the home of Trident. Yes in my wild youth I was known to enter such premises in some vain idea that government and the world might pull back from the creation of weapons of mass destruction. Here I am forty and more years later and they are still there and I have a little bit of fence as a poignant reminder.

I saw on the news, a scene of crime, in a graveyard. The police had stretched tape across all the entrances. Now was that to keep people out or to stop the deceased from fleeing the graveyard?

We are surrounded by barriers of all sorts supposedly for our protection. Little fences and notices warning of deep water beware. The same deep water I paddled in as a boy as I tried to catch minnows. At times we have gone mad with barriers.

But the real barriers that we need to be aware of are the barriers we create ourselves. The barriers we erect in our heads that stop us being all that we could be. Those little mind barriers that tell us we cannot do this or we cannot do that. This is too difficult or I could never do that. I was brought up being told daily that I was not going to be able to do certain things. The trouble was I often accepted the invitation to believe it. Before we erect and decorate these barriers, give it a try you might be surprised.

 
This blog is linked to my other blog where I discuss the artwork:-The Wall

The Guidiing Hand

My daughter from day one showed an independence that has continued throughout her life. From a very early age she new what she wanted to wear each day and no matter how hard we tried to convince her otherwise she had made her mind up. This often meant that after having her breakfast she headed off to get dressed you just never knew what she would be wearing. It would beautiful summer morning and she on her mothers suggestion she would have her summer skirt on accompanied by a heavy woollen jersey hat and gloves. We look back now at some of those early pictures and comment on her wonderful dress sense.


When she was four she wanted a shopping trolley, the kind you pull behind you on two wheels. Monday was my day off, treat day. Lindsey prepared to go shopping. Cherry lips and floral gums and two ten pence mix ups. She insisted on going to the shop on her own. This involved discreet organisation. A phone call was made to the shop keeper that she was on her way and another to the organist who lived halfway between the shop and the manse. She always returned walking proudly with her purchases in her trolley.

I was the same with speaking. We wondered if she ever would. Then one day when her Gran was around and giving our dog a ticking off, Lindsey said in a loud voice, “Don’t shout at my Tara.” She really has never looked back in the talking stakes since then.

At the age of 17 she left home to go to university and live in a flat. It all happened so quickly the university called in the morning to confirm her place and she had to move in that afternoon. As we left her at the flat her mother was in tears but Lindsey was the one saying I will be fine. Of course she was just that. She is still the same independent person as she was then as today she celebrates her birthday.

The hand that guides is the gentle hand that lets people feel they are doing it all by themselves. The teacher who encourages self discovery is will always be the one remembered. The greatest lesson of all is the lesson that says, “You cannot love or heal the world till you have learned to love yourself.”

This blog is linked to my other blog where I speak about the artwork used. It can be seen at:-The Jazz Player

The Fidget

My son has always been one who needed to know how things work and what everything does. I took delivery of a new car recently. I was very pleased with it even though it was the same make as my last one it had so many things that were very different. I invited him out for a drive in it so that he could experience first hand what it was like. As we drove along all I could see on my dashboard were lights coming on and going off as he pressed every button the car had.


When he was very young we and friends selected presents for him on the basis of their fidget value. This fidgeting had no bounds. Clocks were taken apart never to be put together again. One day he was found sitting in front of the kitchen cupboard. All the tins were lying in front of him with a nice neat bundle of labels. So we knew what was in that cupboard but we did not know in what tin was what. Some of the tins we managed to guess others it was impossible. So for the next few weeks it was a case of, “Lets open a can and see what we are having tonight.”

I remember when I became a teacher in the first school I taught in. The head teacher told me I would get a weekly bulletin telling me about students with discipline problems. She thought this would be a great help to me. I asked her if it would be ok to delay those for a bit. She asked my why. I said I would rather not label the students, would prefer to take them as I found them. Told her I was not afraid to face whatever came my way. When I eventually did get those reports how glad I was I had not seen them, they were talking about students I did not recognise as the ones in my class. I taught for almost 20 years and I can count on the fingers of one hand (and I have to I am hopeless at counting) the times I had a problem with a student.

We are too fast to label people and when we do they often live up to the label. Without the labels they are full of surprises and they often surprise themselves.

Labels belong on cans in cupboards they sure do not belong on people. Maybe if we forgot that we were abstract painters we might find we painted good seascapes and so on. I am aware that some friends who visit my blog do not like abstract art and I respect that.

The abstract used above is discussed at :- The Painting With no Label

Age Matters Not

I had an old aunt who lived in a tenement block in Dundee and a marvellous lady she was. She was of that ilk who never said die, always positive and always full of joy. She had a leg amputated at a very late stage in life and was offered a place in an old folks care home. Her sister had died at the age of ninety-four so she lived alone. Her reply to the offer was exactly what we expected from her, “Oh no I could not live there it is full of old people.” Her mind was as sharp as a knife and she insisted on her independence. She reluctantly agreed to have a telephone installed but drew the line at washing machines and all those new fangled gadgets.I still have her old washing board which she used right up until her death.

 My daughter studied in Dundee and she and my aunt became very close friends neither treating the other as if there was an age gap. Dundee boasts a nightclub called Fat Sams; she always had a notion to go there. She saw each day as a day full of new possibilities and would not tolerate people saying they could not do anything. She died aged 104.


Three sisters lived together aged 90, 92 and 94. The 90 year old went to have a bath as she was getting in she wondered if she was getting in or out, her 92 year old sister told her to wait she would come up and check. When she got to the top of the stairs she asked if she was on her way up or on her way down. The 94 old knocks her knuckles on the table and says,” I hope I never get like that pair.” She shouts up to them, “Just wait till I answer the door and I will sort this all out.”

Every day is a day with wonderful possibilities and today might be one full of surprises.

I am keeping this short today because I am up early, I have my trainers on and ready to go out for a ten mile run. Those who follow this blog and know what has been happening in my life this last week will now turn their heads and look at the calendar.

Have a lovely day and look again at my picture on the profile of this blog. Is that the little twinkle in the eye I used to see when I looked into the eye of my lovely aunt Liz.

To quote her, “Smile or I’ll kill ye deed.” For those not from Dundee that translates, “smile or I will kill you dead.”

This blog is linked to my other blog. On this other blog  I  have been looking in detail at  some of the art I have used on this blog in the past:-New Beginnings