Light

The Dawn of a New Day

The sun woke me up this morning before my alarm went off.  Our dog walk was taken under blue skies. The birds are chirruping away and the crocuses are out.  The sun was warm enough to dry my washing and the daffodils are about to explode into bloom.  Spring is on its way.  The long days of summer will soon be here.  It should be a time of rejoicing, but there is a heaviness in my heart.

Anyone that has been bereaved or that has received a devastating diagnosis will know the feeling one has while these questions go through one’s mind: “Why is the sun still shining?”, “Why are the birds singing?”, “How can people be carrying on with their lives?”  It is almost as if we wish for the weather and our surroundings to reflect our mood.  It reminds me of the song “The End of the World” sung by Skeeter Davis – “Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don’t they know it’s the end of the world? ‘Cause you don’t love me any more. Why do the birds go on singing? Why do the stars glow above?” (The lyrics are by Dee Sylvia & Kent Arthur)  

I know that I am not alone in feeling distressed by the situation in Ukraine.  The outpouring of protest, the generous donations and the social media posts all point to the fact that there is huge support for Ukraine and that people are being driven to “do something”.  The fact remains that, for the majority of us, there is little we can do. It does affect one’s mood and one feels as if darkness has descended.

I have been much encouraged by the Facebook Posts from Donna Ashworth Words. In a post two days ago she said:

"It’s been ten days my friend and if you have achieved little in that time, you are not alone.
It is hard to act when frozen in disbelief.
What you have done is you have hoped, and you have cared, and you have educated yourself.
And vitally, you have sent your love out to the displaced and made space for them in your heart."
Sunrise

On a visit to Holy Trinity Church in Skipton, I found these words next to the votive candles:

The Light of Christ brings hope into our world

Hope to steady anxiety
Hope to calm fear
Hope to accompany illness
Hope to befriend loneliness
Hope to thwart despair
Hope to reconcile hatred
Hope to forgive
Hope to be forgiven
Hope to dream of better times
Hope to encourage the future
Hope to re-build what lies in ruins
Hope that God’s Kingdom will come

Pray for the Light of Christ for anyone who needs Him

It is a reminder to never lose hope.  No matter how deep the darkness, one small candle will bring some light. No matter how long the night, the sun will rise in the morning. No matter how harsh the winter, spring will come.  As we unite in prayer and support of Ukraine, let us never lose hope.

Marlene

I am a South African expat living in Scotland. My late husband spent his working life in South Africa, where we met at a Scottish country dance class. We returned to Scotland on his retirement 20 years ago. I taught Chemistry at a local secondary school until my retirement just weeks after my husband died.

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2 Responses

  1. Mary Macintyre says:

    Red Harvest
    The fields where I walk have become a fruit farm.
    Last summer I passed the migrant workers kneeling
    under the polythene domes, as if in homage
    to the god of the ripening sun, deft fingers
    plucking the strawberries without bruising.
    At the end of one long row a young woman,
    hair coiled into a golden crown, raised the last
    of her daily allowance to her lips, sweetness
    making her burst into song, language unfamiliar,
    yet I knew she was serenading her native land.
    At the day’s end you gave me a strawberry
    and conversed fluently in English, Irene.
    ‘Are you from Russia?’ ‘Oh no, Ukraine.
    We are a free country from Putin.
    I’m in Scotland to save plenty of currency
    for the winter support of myself and family.’
    When I asked if you would be back next year,
    you said: ‘Oh for sure, it’s my second home.’
    The strawberry plants are thriving
    and they’ll soon roll out the polythene domes.
    But are you lying on a slab in Ukraine,
    the crown of your hair in ruins,
    or pleading for your life as an invader trains
    his gun at your head? Will the berries waste
    because your compatriots are dead or detained
    and there will be no squad to harvest them?
    Or are you emulating Lyudmila Pavlichenko,
    Ukraine-born, world-famous female sniper,
    by kneeling by a burnt-out tank tonight,
    future of your native land in your sights?
    Lorn Macintyre

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