To Fruit or Not To Fruit
From our garden today! We picked the first strawberries back in May, the blueberries began to ripen in early July, and our first plums added to our pleasure in this the third week of August. The raspberries are an ‘Autumn-fruiting’ variety so they are just beginning to ripen and should provide us with fruit up until early November. ‘Growing your own’ is never more satisfying than when the careful work of the rest of the year culminates in tasting those delicious first fruits.
It is that delight of ‘picking your own’ that makes ‘growing your own’ worth all the work and care.
What a disappointed gardener he or she would be, if all those months of work produced scarcely any fruit worth eating.

God speaks about ‘fruit’ that he wants to produce in our lives – “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
Jesus spoke about us bearing “much fruit.”
I hope I don’t disappoint him too often after all the work he has done for me.

John August 21st 2010

Apples and Clouds
Apples are the best fruit in the entire world in my opinion. In August, a ripe Discovery apple picked from the tree and eaten immediately is bliss.
Yesterday, our neighbour’s tree was spectacular against the dark clouds passing to the south; the darkness seemed to make the red apples all the more beautiful.

Sometimes a dark backdrop seems to overshadow our lives, often affecting us in a powerfully negative way. We may not always be deliberately thinking about it but it is there. It can exercise such a troubling effect on us, that even when we wake in the morning, it grabs our thoughts. Its influence can push God to the sidelines and we get things all out of perspective and proportion.

That is when we need to beware and take a look at the rest of the picture.
John Newton knew something about such dark episodes in his life, and he knew where to look. One of his less-known hymns has these words in reference to part of Habbakuk chapter 3.
“Though all the flocks and herds were dead,
my soul a famine need not dread,
for Jesus is my living bread.”

John August 7th 2010
The complete hymn is here – Dark Hour

A Song of Praise
Early this morning a song thrush was pouring out its unique music from the top of a big apple tree beyond the lane. The prolonged dry weather has made the grass beneath distinctly brown, and it has brought a severe shortage of invertebrates like slugs and snails, a vital part of the diet of the singing thrush. It will have to search carefully today to find enough food.
So what did it have to sing about?
It had rained in the night! Just the tiniest bit, but it was welcome moisture, and the thrush seemed to be filled with gladness.

Strange that we who have no uncertainty about our next meal, should be so slow to feel and express our hearts in thankfulness.

John July 12th 2010
For more British Bird photos and information, go to RSPB

Ladybird Restaurant
Growing your own vegetables is not problem-free. This summer our broad beans have been almost overwhelmed with blackfly, thousands of them, and spraying them with organic insecticide seemed to encourage even more of them to suck the life-sap from shoots and developing bean pods. I gave up. Let nature take its course.
And it did!
The ladybirds arrived. 2-spot, 5-spot, 11-spot, 13-spot versions, whatever they were, feasting on the blackfly. And in no time at all, there were their larvae, chomping away at the blackfly much faster than mum and dad.
OK, the broad beans are a bit stunted and won’t provide us with quite as good a crop as we had anticipated, but we are really enjoying watching ‘nature taking its course.’

Sometimes troubles and problems disrupt our expectations in life, and we try to sort things out on our own.
One of the most helpful promises of God when we are facing trouble is, “All things work together for the good of those who love him.” He can handle problems much better than we can, and even give us benefits through them.

John June 28th 2010

From Dust to Glory
Like grains of black dust – hundreds of round poppy seeds. Shaken out of their big round pods by the autumn winds, they lie in the cold ground through the winter months, waiting, waiting for the warmth of summer.
Suddenly, in our new garden at least, dozens of pale green poppy seedlings emerge, some bursting up from cracks in the paving and paths.
In the sunshine, they rush upward in a desperate hurry to get on with their life’s work.
Less than six weeks after germination, they begin to flower, each flower lasting just a day or two.
Excited bees pollinate them so that by late summer each poppy’s task is complete. Big round pods, each containing hundreds of those grains of black dust, crown the stiff drying plants.
What a miracle that such insignificant seeds can produce such lovely flowers.

God speaks about seeds, especially about planting the seed of his Word in our hearts. If we listen to what his Word says, even our insignificant messed-up lives can become beautiful through Jesus.
That’s a much greater miracle than any poppy.

John June 24th 2010

From Mud to Sky
Mud is not the most attractive residence, especially if it’s mud at the bottom of a sluggish river. Unless of course, you are one of those small creatures that has an inborn conviction that mud is life.
I wonder if those small inhabitants look up from their mud-bound perspective and marvel at fish swimming about freely, frogs happily plunging off lily pads, and herons silently waiting in the shallows for a meal. Are they able to see the maze of insects and birds whisking above the surface of the water on a summer’s day? Who knows?

Whatever, one summer, a tiny egg was deposited on the water’s surface. After several days, the egg hatched and a tiny larva made its instinctive route to the muddy river bottom. As it grew bigger, its tough skin split open to be replaced by a new stretch-suit until that in turn needed replacing.
Eventually, two or three years later, the full-grown larva had the urge to climb the stem of a reed. Climbing higher and higher, it even dared to climb above the water’s surface. There it stayed on the stiff reed, feeling the summer sunshine warm on its back.
Soon its tough skin began to split, not to be replaced by the stretch version this time. No, something much more miraculous was happening. It was different, hugely different. The old skin parted more and more, to reveal the most delicate fabric tinted by the faintest of colours. Eventually, its fragile wings and body broke free of the old casing. Clinging to that reed, a dragonfly cautiously spread its wings and a few hours later lifted off into the free air. Over the next few weeks, as it hunted over the water and the reedbeds and the meadows, the sunshine enriched its colours into exquisite shades of rusty brown and black.
A far cry from life in the mud.

This world can sometimes seem like a sea of mud. Praise God He loves us so much that He sent Jesus to live and die to rescue us from the mud of our own sin. And beyond that, he gives us the privilege and delight of living as new creatures to reflect the beauty of Jesus to the world around us.
And there is more to come!

“Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” 1 John 3:2 NKJV

John June 12th 2010

You’ve Just Got to Wait!
It won’t happen the next day.
In our UK climate, spring is the time for opening the seed packets. In the right conditions of warmth and moisture, Lettuce seeds can become little green seedlings within 4 or 5 days. Radish seed takes 2 or 3 days longer. Peas and Beans take maybe 2 weeks, while parsnip can take 3 or 4 weeks.
My grandmother could not resist hooking up one or two of the broad beans she’d planted a week earlier to check whether they were growing; patience was not her strongest point.

Many of us are just like that. We want tomorrow today.
We find it so difficult to wait. We expect other people to give priority to our needs; why don’t they get on and do something?
Too often, we behave the same with God. We tell him about our problems, and straightaway jump up and start doing things we think might get him moving more quickly.

Two thousand years ago, some Christians had difficulties.
James wrote to them, “The farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain.
“You also be patient.” James 5:7,8 NKJV

God is never in a hurry. In his programme, some things DO take time.

John May 21st 2010

Volcanoes and Spiders
Interruptions make people think. Sometimes.
The recent six-day interruption to air travel made thinking people think. Nature is stronger than we are, several people acknowledged. Clear blue skies generated thoughts about aircraft pollution and interference with our climate. Relative quietness for miles around airports made many realise the curse of noise.
Volcanic ash made many question the wisdom of unrestricted jet travel.

In the British newspaper, The Guardian, Adam LeBor wrote on April 21st, “There is something rather joyous about nature’s triumph over the thin veneer of modern civilization.”
Good for him; he talks sense.

The interrupting voice of a volcano has made people think.

However, nearly 3000 years ago, hurricane-force winds, an earthquake, and fierce fire were not the agents through which God made the prophet Elijah think and listen.
God communicated to him through a ‘still, small voice.’

A few days ago, the fine water droplets of an early mist had decorated many leaves and twigs with silver. Shrubs and fences were draped with intricate and delicate constructions – hammock-shaped webs of spiders decorated with mist jewels.
Even such a tiny creature’s quiet voice is there for us to hear, just as powerfully as an Icelandic volcano.

Taking time ‘to look and listen,’ to small things would redirect a lot of human thinking upwards.

John April 29th 2010

Too Busy?
When spring arrived in the middle of March, a pair of jackdaws frequently perched on the electricity wires near our house. Jackdaws pair for life and are very dedicated partners; they stick by each other even when they have nesting and rearing failures.
One of this pair was slightly bigger, but apparently, size is no indication of which is male and which is female.
On one occasion, when they were perched less than a foot apart, the bigger bird was continuously preening itself. The smaller bird repeatedly shuffled along the wire to get closer, but each time its amorous intentions were totally ignored; the bigger jackdaw’s preening programme did not allow for interruptions.

No doubt, I have often failed to give attention to someone because I also had important things to do.

When Jesus visited some friends, one of them sat and listened to what he was saying. Her sister hurried into the kitchen because she felt she had to get a meal, and she soon began to feel sorry for herself.
“Oh Martha, Martha,” Jesus said, “you are bothered about so many things.”

Are we too busy to give attention to the words of Jesus?

John April 12th 2010

Rainbow’s End
Elusive Beauty  Surely, no one could be negative about a rainbow.
Its beauty and elusiveness demand attention. Although its colours are always the same, and its curve unchanging, its height, width, and setting against cloud and land or sea, are endless in their variety.

God’s Sign  For me, it is the loveliest phenomenon of the natural world.
For a Bible-believing Christian, it is the glorious sign of God’s promise to Noah that never again would a universal flood destroy the human race.

God’s Visit. On a beautiful showery Spring day in 2009, the stubby end of a rainbow appeared briefly on the headland in the picture.
The colours of sea and land and cliffs were indescribable.
On the opposite side of that multi-coloured headland is the small fishing town of Newquay in Cardiganshire. It was there in 1904 that God chose to shine his powerful spiritual light on the minister and young people in the Calvinistic Methodist Church.

Like the rainbow, God’s glory touches the earth when and where He chooses. Man has no control over such events.

“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has become His counsellor?”
Romans 11:34   NKJV

John June 27th 2009

Flying Miracles

Sky Furrow.  A huge airliner is cutting its white furrow across a pure blue sky.

New Flyers.  At the same time, some young crows just out of the nest are making cautious experiments with their wings around the ash tree across the lane. A few weeks ago they were eggs.

A Wood Pigeon hurtles past in its powerful flight to somewhere.

An Insect dances through the sunshine doing its own thing.

A Painted Lady Butterfly recently arrived from North Africa, takes a rest on the Campanula flowers.

Machine or Creature? – Which is the greater miracle?

John June 1st 2009

Waiting Seeds
Disturbance.   An airfield runway extension, re-routing of roads, opening up of a dangerous junction, meant a huge shifting of the soil of old pasturelands.

New Clothing.   Within days of the reinstatement of the land by the contractors, in areas where neither turf nor grass seed had been placed, nature began its own programme of damage repair. Green shoots and leaves began to clothe the bare soil with life.

Yellow Peril.  Within a few weeks, one most striking newcomer appeared – Charlock – and although its yellow flowers are not as blatant as those of its oilseed rape cousin, it still provides a dramatic show of colour. Centuries ago, charlock was used as a vegetable, but for generations it has been a troublesome weed of arable farmland.   Strong-growing and hardy, it can seriously hinder the cultivated crops.

The Long Wait.  No-one sowed that roadside charlock seed. Its seeds had lain dormant in the damp soil for a long time – some say it can survive for 100 years – until conditions become favourable for germination.

Ninety Years.  Seed sown by a teacher in an English Sunday School remained dormant in the mind of one of the pupils.   Eventually, that seed of God’s Word germinated in the mind and heart of a 90-year-old man in Canada, and the old pupil found salvation in Jesus!

John May 15th 2009

White Lace of Winter
The Ploughed Field.  The cold furrows of the field lay dark and wet in the early December light.  The rain and wind of the night had moved away eastwards and all was calm.

Winter Sun.   Quietly, the climbing sun poured out sufficient warmth to bring slow drifts of steam from the waiting soil.  By mid-morning, the steam had dissipated in the unseasonal warmth.  An invisible movement of air provided the scene for a miracle.

Surprise Tapestry.  Two walkers came along the lane in the early afternoon.  They stopped in wonder.  Shimmering in the weak sunshine, a silver tapestry of gossamer threads clothed every furrow in beauty.

Instinctive Weavers.  Myriads of tiny spiders, unobserved by anyone, had been waiting in the hedges and grass in the surrounding landscape.  The quiet warmth had stimulated them for the grand dispersal.  Spinning threads of the finest silk, they had clung to their launch pads of vegetation until the thread was long enough to bear their weight as it waved above them in the gentle convection currents.

Unseen Migration.   We were too late to see the fragile glide of thousands of tiny spiders to their new residence among the cold furrows, to wait for the spring.  We only saw the silver glory they abandoned.

What a miracle that God can transform the dark furrows of our hearts by the beauty of Jesus.

John March 25th 2009

The Changing River
Compared to the sea, the little river that flows into Aberporth Bay is a trickle. From its source back in the hills, the river is secure as it flows along its rocky bed, having only known minor changes through the centuries. However, as soon as it ventures across the sandy beach, it has to submit to the power of the ocean.

The Beach belongs to the Sea. Its grains of sand are subject to every ripple and wave that flood back and forth day after day. When storms drive the waves ashore with awesome power, how can the bed of a minuscule river withstand the vast power of the North Atlantic?

Unstable Sand. Every time those stormy waves engulf the river‘s course across the sand, its meanders change shape. Sometimes the changes are small, but at other times, there are substantial movements of its banks and bends.
In comparison, the rocks alongside its northern edge stand unaffected by the watery onslaught.

Spiritual Meanders. Too often, we meander all over the place when the storms and tides of life hit us.
Without our life-course securely embedded in the Rock of Ages, we will certainly experience spiritual meandering. However, if our life is fixed in the Lord Jesus Christ, then spiritual stability can be ours.

King David testifies to that steadfastness, “He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.” Psalm 66:2 NKJV
And the apostle Paul urges us to live like that.
“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 15:58 NKJV

John March 30th 2009

More Scribblings about the Natural World – Scenes from a Welsh Season

The Unplacid Sea
Aberporth Bay was anything but placid today. After a belt of rain had passed eastwards during the night, a cold northerly wind swept into the bay, bringing showers and sometimes hail, and drove the sea onto the coast with unusual fury.
From our inland viewpoint, the sea was white with foam as it approached the beaches of Tresaith and Penybryn. Against the nearby cliffs, the waves were surging up 30 or 40 feet, as though they resented their ancient barrier.

We may not express ourselves in sea-like fury, but we can strongly resent the obstacles we come up against in life.  It is good to remember that when our plans are thwarted, our hopes dashed, or when unexpected difficulties fall across our paths, God is able to work through such experiences for our benefit.

Tomorrow, the storm may be stilled.

John March 28th 2009

Easter Sunshine
Aberporth Beach is not empty today. The combination of an Easter weekend and the sunshine will populate every sheltered beach in the UK.
It is a lovely feature of this country that our weather is variable, and the changing seasons produce such changing scenes. A year spent a few hundred miles north of Singapore some years ago made me long for our unpredictable British weather.

The first two swallows passed low over our garden yesterday – my favourite summer visitors. With beautiful regularity every spring, they abandon drier climates to enjoy the plentiful food supply that our changeable weather provides.

Wall-to-wall sunshine may be some folks’ paradise, but in some countries, unbroken sunshine means famine. So it is in life. Uninterrupted comfort and pleasure too often produce famine of the soul. Troubles and discomforts can be instruments to turn our attention to those things that are real nourishment.

John April 11th 2009

The Sun is There
Cloud and intermittent light rain enfolded both landscape and seascape this morning. Very briefly, the sky sometimes became lighter with the promise of the sun breaking through, but the cloudy veil was quickly drawn across the window again.

During our journey inland yesterday, a more active weather front was draped across mid-Wales, giving some torrential downpours in places. At one point, the sky to our west was so dark and threatening, the clouds seemed likely to break under their watery burden.

‘Every cloud has a silver lining.’ Some folk try to encourage others with those easy words and the simple saying can sometimes be a real help to many.
For others, there is the long haul when their sky rarely shows a hint of the sun, and it’s difficult to believe anything can shine brightly again.

But the sun is there somewhere – and its benefits can reach us, even through the clouds.

John April 17th 2009

Bluebell Blue
When the sky is blue, the sea is blue. Without that reflected colour, the sea would lose much of its attraction. That relationship makes blue the dominant colour of much of our world.

On our journey to Carmarthen a few days ago, we had the delight of seeing the first bluebells tinting the roadside banks and the edges of woodland. A few years ago, we stood in awe and wonder among the many acres of bluebells in the woods near Llyn Brianne reservoir north of Llandovery. Added to that beauty, the calling of a cuckoo from among the budding oak trees lifted us into another realm.

Our photographs of those scenes were disappointing. The latest camera technology may be capable of reproducing 16 million colours, but I have yet to see any photo that accurately portrays the colour of bluebells in their wild habitat. Neither have I seen any painting that accurately captures their beauty.

I have no idea what combination of tints and shades produces the indescribable haze of a bluebell wood, but I would challenge anyone to prove it to be merely the product of ‘chance’ or ‘survival of the fittest.’

John April 23rd 2009

Spring Expression
Spring is a season of hope. On our journey a few days ago, spring expressed itself in every scene.
Travelling the coast road to Aberystwyth and beyond, we turned inland along the Dyfi estuary before winding upwards through the fringes of Snowdonia National Park. Then the beautiful valleys of the Banwy and Vyrnwy took us gently northeast before entering England.

Soft greens and yellows singled out the awakening oaks and birches from the bare ash trees on the hillsides. A huge sycamore tree in Meifod car park was already in full leaf with its catkins inviting bees to their precious nectar. Roadside patches of bluebells claimed our attention. Lambs, nesting birds, fresh grass showing on the higher land, gardens parading their spring flowers – the multitude of activity expressed its eagerness for life.

Spring is a delightful season of anticipation.
There is another kind of hope that lasts longer than one season.

John April 29th 2009

Smiling Trees
Bank Holiday in early May was no copy of the previous day of glorious sunshine.
No doubt, for the children especially, the early May Bank Holiday in West Wales was a disappointment. Rainforest Centres, Folly Farms, Chocolate Factories and all the rest, good as they are, cannot replace the expected day on a sunny beach.

The intermittent rain and rushing low clouds printed a dull uniformity on the coastline and hills around Cardigan Bay. The boundary between sky and sea was non-existent.

That’s how it was for much of the day. Then, suddenly, in mid-afternoon, a blaze of sunshine burst through the clouds. The world was transformed. The flowers and the fresh green trees smiled with pleasure. Everything was OK after all.
Then the clouds closed up again!

Sunshine in the soul can smile, even briefly, through many of the clouds of life.

John May 5th 2009

A Country Lane
May is beautiful.
A recent stroll along lanes on the outskirts of Aberporth was full of discovery. The early celandines had already disappeared, and the violets and primroses were giving way to a wealth of new spring flowers. Red campions, bluebells, pennywort, cow parsley, speedwell, orchids, dandelions, daisies and stitchwort provided a display more satisfying than any gardener can produce.

Above us, the white hawthorn flowers were on show, and the clear yellow of wild laburnum flowers peeped from their pendant buds. Flower buds were visible on the dog roses, and the broad leaves of sycamores were developing their summer canopy. Clumps of ferns were unrolling their classic fronds to decorate the banks of the tumbling stream.

Even the best creations of landscape designers and gardeners cannot compete with the display we enjoyed along that mile of country lane.
In the simpler things of life, there are plenty of enjoyments to be had if only we took time to look.

John May 11th 2009

The Litter Picker
In Carmarthen the other day, I noticed a young man carefully collecting the litter that thoughtless folk had dropped. I admired his diligence. It was not exciting or interesting work – but essential.

It set me thinking. Would I be willing to do such a job? Would I be able to stick at it day after day? No. I would find it too public and too humiliating.
Supposing our Queen was asked to do such work! Would she be able to humble herself to that extent? The whole idea seems too ridiculous.

However, for the Queen to become a street cleaner would be but the tiniest humiliation compared to the humbling of the eternal Son of God.

Christians know that the eternal Son of God came from heaven to live as a real flesh-and-blood Man on earth. Theologians call that event The Incarnation. From heaven’s glory to a bloody death on a Roman cross was an immeasurable downward step, and Christians call that his Humiliation.
The Apostle Paul used simple words to describe one aspect of what Jesus did. ‘He humbled himself,’ he wrote in his Philippian letter. “and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!”  Philippians 2:8 NIV

As an antidote to our proud independence and self-interest, maybe we need to contemplate afresh what that Humiliation meant to the holy Son of God.

After all, to remedy the sin-littered condition of our souls, Jesus’ lowly work was essential.

John May 14th 2009

Silver Mirror
Mist had blotted out our view over Cardigan Bay a few evenings ago. From our hilltop home, only the closest fields and trees were visible.
Very early the next morning it was the same enclosed scene.
A thrush was singing, and through the mist we could hear the leisurely whisper of the sea washing the beaches half a mile away down the hill.

Around 6 a.m. the scene changed.
The mist thinned, and though unseen, the sun was up and its light poured down through the hazy vapours to transform the sea into a silver mirror.
The wisps and swirls of mist moved in unhurried motion around the indistinct hills and coastline, creating an otherworldly setting. Misty fragments seemed to weave a delicate tapestry, uniting the hills and sea in the streaming light.

Our normal view had been displaced by a far superior picture – almost a vision. For a brief interval, reality was clothed in something entirely beyond human control or design or imagination.

An unidentified poet once penned a phrase, ‘Stand small amidst mountains.’

Sometimes it’s good for the soul to feel small.

John May 18th 2009

Mountains and Fountains
From our bedroom windows, we can see the Gwalia Falls spilling 100 feet down the cliffs at Tresaith, just over a mile away. Only in the very driest weather does its flow seem to diminish appreciably, at least from our viewpoint. Its steady stream is always there.

After a few days away recently, we made a detour on our way home to visit Lake Vyrnwy. From the head of the lake, we negotiated the countless bends of the narrow road up to Bwlchygroes, the highest point on any public road in Wales. Above the tree line, the persistent rain and low cloud created a sombre scene in contrast to the vivid greens of the valley we had left behind.

However, that rain had produced some dramatic displays that more than compensated for the lack of sunshine. The small Afon Eunant had swollen into a series of rapids and falls worthy of anyone’s attention. As we turned from Bwlchygroes down into the Dyfi valley towards Llanymawddwy, a spectacular torrent of water was pouring hundreds of feet down the mountains in a series of silver cascades and fountains. It made the falls at Tresaith look like a trickle.
No doubt, a couple of days without rain and the mountain torrent would be unnoticeable.

We can rightly enjoy many of the dramatic occasions of life, but most of us would have difficulty in handling never-ending spectaculars.

More lasting pleasures can often be found in the steady flow of ordinary life.

John May 25th 2009

Migrant Millions
Thousands of migrants pour into Wales! That could be a provocative headline.
But it is happening.
On Saturday, enjoying the glorious sunshine in the garden, we noticed a succession of Painted Lady butterflies flitting alongside one of our hedges. The following day, there still seemed to be plenty, and I managed to photograph one on some blue campanula flowers.

Wanting to learn more about them, a quick search on the Internet revealed an almost unprecedented influx of millions into Britain in the last week or two. They have travelled 1000 miles or so from the Atlas Mountains in North Africa.

What beautiful frail creatures they look. Our photo is of one of those migrants, rather travel-worn compared to the photos of later home-grown specimens displayed on the website indicated below.

From that website: “An estimated 18,000 were spotted flying past Scolts Head Island on the Norfolk coast yesterday and were passing at 50 a minute over a 400 metre front today.”

Many of us know about the well-publicised butterfly migrations of North America, so it’s good to welcome plenty of these brave African Painted Ladies here
to West Wales.
Understanding their origin, it’s reason again to “Stand small amidst mountains.”

For more information about the Migration, go to Butterfly Conservation

John June 1st 2009

Ominous Conflicts
Just after sunrise last Saturday, the sky over Aberporth was ominously disturbed. Broken cloud at various heights showed that significant meteorological activity was taking place.
At the highest level, white patches of alto-cumulus were moving from the south, whereas a lower scattering of raggy grey cloud was drifting in from the north-west. Between those two layers, there were other scraps of cloud travelling from the northeast. Air masses were in a mixing-pot.

It reminded me of a Sunday afternoon in Dorset in July, 1982, when two layers of cloud were moving in almost opposing directions. I recorded it in my diary.
Not long after midnight, there was a lot of thunder, with the lightning appearing to be above the clouds, but not much rain. From 7 a.m. on Monday morning, rain, thunder, hail, and a strong northeast wind continued until 10.30 when it became very dark under a turbulent cloud base.
Suddenly it became very still for several minutes until low cloud started sweeping in on a strong south-west wind.
At 11.30, a violent thunderstorm with frequent lightning burst on the scene and continued for over an hour. It was frightening. Trees were damaged and a lot of flooding occurred.
While I was writing this last Saturday morning, there was a cloudy but dry sky overhead, and I wondered what the next 24 hours would bring.

Clouds moving ominously in conflicting directions may seem symbolic of our nation’s present political, moral, and religious turmoil. Such times can be frightening.
However, when a violent thunderstorm has moved away, what a beautiful peace can replace it as the warm sun regains control of the rain-washed air.

Read the Poem ‘After the Storm’
The Storm

John June 6th 2009

Sigh of Relief
Several days ago, the air over West Wales was coming from a south-easterly direction.  It was laden with tiny particles of dust after travelling over the landmasses of eastern Britain and Europe.   The thick haze, which made visibility poor, was itself made visible only by the light reflecting from each of its billions of particles.

This diffusion of light modified our view of the coastline and hills around Cardigan Bay in soft tones of pale grey-blue.   It made the contours of the hills more noticeable and gave the strong impression of the hills receding into the distance, each one fainter than the one in front of it.
The polluted air entirely masked the distant mountains.

A few days later, the atmosphere changed.   The airflow veered steadily during the morning from south-southeast to northwest, and the land and seascape breathed a sigh of relief as clear polar air flowed in like a cleansing flood.

Late in the evening and early the next morning when the sun was below the horizon, the outlines of the North Wales Mountains were dramatically clear.   The highest peaks of the Lleyn Peninsula were dark silhouettes against the pale sky 55 miles away.   Despite its 3560 feet, at 68 miles, Snowdon looked smaller than Cadair Idris and Plynlimon, both less than 50 miles distant.   It was a privilege to see their majestic outlines immovable beyond the sea.

Every so often, we need something to invade our view of life and make its issues become clear.   Too easily, those permanent spiritual horizons get lost in the haze of our modern lifestyles.

John June 13th 2009

Searchlights
Just before 5 o’clock several mornings ago, an area of broken cloud hid the sun as it was rising over the sea.  However, with the slow northward drift of the clouds, shafts of sunlight moved like gentle searchlights across the hills and sea and beaches.

We were deprived of directly seeing the sun, but other people in other places among the hills benefitted from its full light and warmth.
We didn’t envy them their sunshine – from our distant viewpoint, we could enjoy the greater blessing of watching those spectacular searchlights.

In ordinary daily life, it can be easy to feel discouraged when the advantages other people have are staring you in the face.  Even so, it is possible to enjoy significant blessing, even when difficulties and troubles dominate the day-to-day.

It was moving a few weeks ago to listen to a blind man walking in the countryside, describing its sounds and particularly the birdsongs he could hear.  He had a stronger experience than most sighted people do of the natural world around them.
In Ravensbruck concentration camp during the Second World War, two Dutch prisoners thanked God for the hordes of fleas that kept the Nazi guards away from their Bible reading.
They saw rays of light through the cloud.

John June 19th 2009

Clamour for Sunshine
It’s raining as I write this morning.  A steady moderate rain with almost no breeze.  It’s the perfect rain for gardens that have enjoyed a week of welcome sunshine.

Admittedly, sometimes rain can be inconvenient.  Sometimes an excess can cause serious problems, but generally speaking, rain is good for us.  Life is based on water, and without an adequate supply, our fertile land could soon become desert.

Over the last 40 or 50 years, the desire for endless sunshine has captured the majority of the British population.  Every year, millions of Brits travel abroad in search of the sun.  
The 1970s was a decade when the clamour for sunshine seemed to drive the foreign holiday craze in a big way.

For those of you with age to your credit, memories of 1976 are still vivid.  In southern England where we were living at that time, there was no significant rain from the middle of March to the end of August.  Crops failed, trees died, animals and birds suffered, and for many, life was quite a struggle coping with the heat and dryness.  The soil was cracked to a depth of 2 or 3 feet, and cultivations were well nigh impossible.
It was as if God had been listening to the chorus of moans about British weather and the wonders of Spain, and had said, ‘OK, you want endless sunshine.  Here it is.  See what it can do!’

Yesterday we watched a Song Thrush perched forlornly on a fence post for some time in the strong sunshine.  It is one of the most vulnerable of our songbirds when dry weather reduces the supply of its snail and slug diet.  It must be a lot happier today.

Hand in hand, sunshine and rain make the best life possible.  So it is in our hearts.

John June 26th 2009

Cloud Threat
This last week has been a season of showers.   High humidity, warm air, and strong sunshine have combined to create massive cumulus cloud activity.   The majestic anvils of cumulonimbus clouds have appeared almost every day, emptying their huge cargo of water in torrential downpours in many places.
On this sunny West Wales coast, we have only seen them moving slowly along, many miles inland.

From our perspective, the cumulonimbus in the photo were beautiful natural phenomena to be enjoyed and admired.
For those people on whom they were discharging their watery contents there was no admiration of their beauty.   Their dark sky contrasted sharply with our perception.

In the 18th century, William Cowper was a Christian who suffered from repeated seasons of depression.   Many of his poems and some of his hymns reflected his debilitating experience, but also indicated how God enabled him to cope with life.
One of his well-known hymns contains the words,
          “The clouds you so much dread
           are big with mercy and shall break
           in blessings on your head.”

William Cowper discovered that some clouds can produce surprising benefits.

John July 4th 2009