Living Psalm 23

I’m sitting here in our cottage, in the bay window seat, overlooking Psalm 23. Sheep lying down in green pastures. The green pastures leading to the still waters of Grasmere Lake beyond, and all that framed by the fells that lift my eyes up. Madam Day lectures when the sun shines; Professor night does his swing shift.   Here's a picture, below, out our back window.   The one above is on a nearby walk.  

I just returned from a walk high up along a ridge.  It was softly raining as I left The Barn and that changed to bright sunshine for awhile. Then the rain came again and turned white into pelting hail and snow coming down sideways. I pulled up my hood, strapped the chin Velcro tight, gloved up, and otherwise mentally battened down the hatches. The sheep didn’t seem to either notice or mind. As they grew longish ice beards mouths moved, green disappeared, and hoofs shuffled forward in a slow grass mowing operation.   Once I came down, the walk around Grasmere lake yielded this photo.

Three nights ago was interesting. The vicar of Chapel Stiles, George, picked us up and off we went into the dark hailing night thru windy narrow lanes some 20 miles. We pulled out of the dark into a puddle of light around a tiny community hall. When we entered the community hall there were about 30 folks drinking BYOB whatevers and others, tea, coffee. Two folk singers on guitars, viola, and wind pipes of various sorts. For seven quid a head it was a great evening’s entertainment. We clapped and sang thru ballads, toe-tapping Scottish reels, tear jerking stories of love longed for and lost. It was a great introduction into micro-community.

I’m reading a great book, Flickering Pixels: how technology shapes your faith, by Shane Hipps. He was an ad exec and converted to pastor. Here’s a sentence from the beginning chapter: “my task was to hijack your imagination, brand your brain with our logo, and then feed you opinions you thought were your own. You’re welcome…. My job was to save people from feeling impotent, unattractive, or powerless by offering them a Porsche, which promised to fix those problems…. Before you start judging, you should know I never offered cheap grace—the gospel according to Porsche will set you back between $80,000 and $150,000 depending on how much salvation you need.”   Personally I'm glad I need both much more and much less than that, depending on what's being saved.

Scripture memory is moving along slowly. I memorize as I fell walk most generally. But I do find it re-shaping my synapses and perseverance. It’s like slowing a race car down into a plow share. You don’t see as much but you leave deeper tracks, within you primarily.  I hold onto the verse “I am the Vine. When you are joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant…” John 14-17 is my current project; half way home there; entering the first few verses of chapter 16.

Welcome to our new home.   Here we are smiling at you over dinner, our first week in the Barn.   We love, love, love having a fire in the fireplace once again.   When we're not looking out the windows we spend a lot of time reading and gazing into the fire, resting.   We're so grateful to God for this sabbatical.