A nest of twigs

 God be in my eyes and in my looking. Sarum Prime 1527.

There is a holiness and a sacredness in those moments when the fading night and rising dawn meet. Its a 'thin ' space and the quietness of those moments are the quietest of all quiet. Sacred, holy, and from my sacred space I listen to the quietness and I just want to be there, in the moment, not seeking to be elsewhere or urged to hurry along and had I not heeded that urge I would have missed the tangle of sticks  in the fork of a branch  of the gumtree, so high up, a hidden nest where a miracle had occurred, where baby birds were born, and their tiny heads were peering over the rim of the nest, mouths open wide in expectation of breakfast.  

May we never miss the ordinary things of life from dawn breaking into day and nests of twigs with baby birds looking expectantly for breakfast.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.  Anne, servant of the Lord.

                                        A nest of twigs.

so glorious, so beautiful, so lovely.

' Singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart.' It is to him and about him that we sing. Ephesians 5:19

Is there nothing so glorious, so beautiful, so lovely as the sound and sight  of the magpies warbling in beautiful harmony together breaking the silence of the new day. What a blessing to behold. What joy that puts a smile on my face before I even reach the sacred space to take in the numerous blessings around me. I pause, I listen and I thank God for all his wonderful creation but especially the melodious sound of the magpies warbling at the break of day. J.E.Tada says: 'That joy is a gift of the Holy Spirit.  Be my help, my  strength and my song today.'

May the God of life bless you and keep you today and always.     Anne, servant of the Lord.

                                                Sing to the Lord

Transported to heaven.

 My ears have heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Job 42:5

Well I can say that my eyes have seen you, as from my sacred space I see the glory - the absolute glory of the Lord in a green rose bush so covered with roses that its dazzling!  They have  positioned themselves in such a way on the bush that its like a cascade of colour and styles. Some are just buds, others more open and yet others fading from a full flush. It makes me want to sing that lovely hymn, 'Glorious things of thee are spoken.' I venture forward. I touch a rose. I smell a rose, and thank God for the joy and delight it brings me, this glory of his creation. So today, stop and smell the roses and you will be transported into heaven.

May the God of life bless you and keep you today and always.     Anne, servant of the Lord.

                                                        Cascading down the bush.

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