August 2008
August! No Little Dragon Meetings so there is time to take stock, catch up on chores (ughh!), do some decorating (double ughh!), read – read - and more read.
My reading always has purpose – knowledge, interest, learning a new skill – but mainly escapism. I know that many who lead exceedingly busy lives, packing each day full with various tasks, need a little time to escape in order to retain perspective. It isn’t always possible to take sufficient time to put all cares and responsibilities on hold, but a few minutes enjoyment in a book can work wonders.
 When I was a young teenager I used to walk to a small valley near to my home. There, perched above a small stream, I would sit in solitary silence and enjoy the stillness of the air around. In the midst of the bustle of teenage whizzing around I found that stillness to be a means of rejuvenation and, I now realise, that I spent that time developing my spiritual self sitting by those almost still, quiet waters.
 When Frank & I spent a month backpacking in India following our retirement, we visited the Taj Mahal– a magnificent tribute to a much-loved wife, but were more spiritually affected by the nearby Agra Fort. As we passed through the entrance gate to the Fort, early in the morning before other visitors arrived, we were struck by the silence and a feeling of awe. The touch and feel of silk is the nearest I can get to describing the emotion. 
No doubt many of us have different places in our lives where we have experienced a similar emotion. To stand in our church in Pontesbury, alone in the silence, particularly when the sun is slanting through the stained glass windows, one can experience the feeling of support and sustenance of the spiritual self. Yesterday I stood in a green, green churchyard and felt that spiritual oneness with the natural world; alone, yet not alone.
I well remember as a child singing a hymn, ‘Hushed was the evening hymn, the temple courts were dark; the lamp was burning dim before the sacred ark: when suddenly a voice divine rang through the silence of the shrine!’ Such was the boy, Samuel’s, experience as in a special place he became aware of God’s presence. In my childhood memory I hear Samuel replying, ‘Speak Lord, for thy servant heareth!’ Do I hear when God speaks to me? Do you?
Val Butterworth |
