I was born into a Christian family. It was a mix of Catholic
and Protestant and some had a stronger faith than others. I was baptised in a
Church of England church, but my Sunday Schools were always Methodist. One was
a strict Wesleyan Chapel that could not accept monetary gifts from my father, a
publican. I have always had my faith, never faltering in my darkest of days,
and believe me, I have pulled through some dark, hard times. I believe in ‘each
to their own’, respectful of family and friends beliefs, non-beliefs, thoughts
and preferences. If I have a grandchild sleeping over, they always get a
‘night-night, God bless’.
My christening gifts included a C of E Book of Common Prayer
and a bible with my initials on. These were from both sets of grandparents, I
think. As a child, I was fascinated by the picture inside the prayer book, ‘The
Light of the World’ by Holman Hunt, and found the person, who I later learnt to
be Jesus, a bit scary looking. The light in my darkness.
Our recent stay in Dumfries and Galloway got off to a
confusing start when there was a mix up concerning our accommodation. We’ve
stayed in the same lodge so many times that we consider it to be our own. It
took a few moments to accept that it was occupied. All turned out fine. There are
only six lodges spaced between trees and shrubs, all very private and all much
the same. We soon found ours. It was only tea-time, around five, but dark
already. This is a recognised Dark Sky area and glancing up, I couldn’t believe
my eyes, especially my peculiar eyes. The sky was full of more stars than I’d
ever seen, sparkling brightly, some tiny, some big, millions of them. We
stopped unloading the car and switched off the lights and torches we were
using, and just stood, staring at the sky. I could actually see them, my eyes,
with problem vision giving me a struggle to focus all the time, could process
this wonderful night sky. The most amazing lights in the darkness.
On Christmas Eve, my daughter and I took her three children
to the Christingle service at our local church. The children had been before to
various services and to Christingle last year, so knew to sit quietly. After a
while they were a bit fidgety. Matilda had seen a classmate across the aisle
and wanted to sit with her, but was too shy to move. The boys, who had been
sitting together, now had their mother between them and the threat of no
Christingle orange. There was respite in the chance to sing as a well-known
hymn began. As we stood, I heard one of the boys say ‘It’s Nanna’s God bless
you song’ as I popped Matilda to her friend, with a ‘thank you’ to her Nanna
who is a friend of mine. Shine, Jesus, Shine. I used to choose it a lot when my
children were small and part of my Sunday School class. With all the children
joining in the chorus, it must be a popular hymn from school assembly. A little
later a loud chorus of ‘Sing Hosanna’ was raising the roof. At the end, all lights were switched off and flames from all the Christingles flickered
around the church as everyone sang Away in a Manger. Beautiful lights.
A light in the darkness, a light at the end of a tunnel, a
flicker of hope, that cloud with the silver lining. There is always hope for
everyone, faith or not.
No poem today, sorry, but thanks for reading. A Happy New
Year to everyone. Pam x
4 comments:
How lovely.
A fascinating read, Pam. I'm familiar with a Methodist upbringing, my father having been a Methodist minister, and although I am not a believer myself I understand that religious faith can be a great comfort in difficult times. By the way, that Holman Hunt 'Light Of The World' figure reminded me immediately of The Hermit as depicted in Tarot packs. I guess it's an image with universal resonance. As for Christingle services, they were magical events for my daughters when they were small but as a parent of girls with long hair I was always having to make sure they didn't set themselves on fire.
That's a very interesting blog Pam. Thank you. The Holman Hunt painting "Light of the World" is in the Manchester Art Gallery as part of the Pre-Raphaelite collection. It is well worth a visit for this collection alone.
What a wonderful description of the joy in seeing all the stars.
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