It’s one of those blustery November mornings around here. The garden gate is crashing open and clamming shut. The sky is empty of birds, but full of leaves, and the trees are madly shaking their branches as if trying to get everything to stop and sit still for just one moment.
I know just how they feel.
Last week was a bustling kind of week. Far too much rushing and doing and organizing and arranging and everything all on top of each other. It was marvellous – most of the things that had to be done were fun and happy ones – but by Sunday afternoon I was spent. I had most certainly filled my mind too full and was losing the plot. Rest was essential.
And then this morning trundled along and a loud wind got the family out of bed. It called us to the windows, and the kids found that the garden bench had toppled over. The hedge was looking decidedly ruffled. Everything was slick and dark with rain. And the wind wasn’t finished. Luckily, it also provided a good story for the breakfast table. Our recently gap-toothed daughter was disappointed to find that her lost tooth was still in its box by her pillow (oops) but of course the wind – that wind! – must have blown fairies off-course along with everything else.
We pulled on hats and boots and headed off to school. It’s only a few blocks away, but long enough for a good chat about chilly fairies. Often, it’s the Spouse who takes Beangirl in, but Mondays are always mine. We’re still at the holding-mittened-hands stage when it’s just we two. I like that. And this morning the wind circled us as we walked, sometimes pushing against us and filling our jackets like sails, sometimes pushing from behind as if it was chasing us up the street. Herded by the wind and into the funnel of the school gates. A quick woolly-coat hug and then she was blown off through the doors and I turned back towards home again.
My mind filled up again with last week. Specifically with last Thursday. On the 3rd Thursday of the month, we have Dinner Church. We got the idea from St Lydia’s in Brooklyn – check out their site. It’s a good vision of church. It’s an evening service around a potluck supper table – a bit of an experiment that started last spring and it’s going well. Some months, we have a large crowd and sometimes it’s a little group. Our church hall is being renovated, so we’re meeting in a committee room in the manse. It’s nice to eat in a room where the table fills the space and the walls have bookshelves. At Dinner Church, we read and pray and talk a lot and sing some, too. Each month we have a theme, and this month, we looked at Psalm 23. Looking towards shepherds, perhaps, without stepping on Advent’s toes. It was a lovely evening and remarkable reading the Psalm slowly with a group, wondering together about the familiar words. For some, they were funeral words – full of deep comfort. For others, they were musical – words to sing to remind ourselves of God’s promises. We sang the words to a new tune – an unfamiliar one for me – which helped me pay attention to the depth behind the familiar lines. You can find it here.
Two things that struck me in reading the 23rd Psalm with Dinner Church: first that the centre of the Psalm is You are with me. Before that verse, everything is about God – the Lord is my shepherd, etc. After that, it is addressed to God – You spread a table… And in the middle, there is a confession and proclamation of faith. You are with me. That is the heart of the psalm.
The second point is more wind-related, perhaps. Verse six reads: Goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. But follow isn’t gentle – in the Hebrew, it is akin to chase. Goodness will chase me. Mercy will pursue me. I will feel the strong force of God’s good love against my back and I will be strengthened and guided. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, all my days. I will be at home with God forever.
Maybe a good book recommendation for today would be Jeanette Winterson’s The King of Capri. It’s about the wind and about goodness. It begins with a greedy king who wonders why he has two hands but only one mouth. But a storm comes in the night and blows away all that he has, and he meets Mrs Jewel, the washerwoman who teaches him about kindness. It would be a good read for a blustery day like today. I hope it’s on the shelf at your library. Happy Monday.
