Where Do You Find Refuge from the Storm?

Small Harbors

We need small harbors in our soul

where we can slip out of the sea

to wait a moment and be whole.

A book, a poem, a song may be

enough, some exercise, a walk.

A time of solitary labor,

a dog, a cat, a garden, talk

shared with a passing friend or neighbor,

sometimes the merest human touch.

A silent prayer is such a place --

Small harbors may be nothing much,

but ah, they have a saving grace.

(James Dillet Freeman)

Where do you go in a time of trouble; when you need shelter from the storm, or just a little peace and quiet?

What is your favorite 'small harbor' -- a sunset, a special verse, shopping?

The Storm

I'm not sure if this can be called a poem. I wrote it 25 years ago, when I was going through a really tough time in my life. I found it again recently when I was sorting out some papers.

The storm clouds gather and the familiar thundering brings furrows to my brow.

My mind flees for shelter, as the tumult rolls in upon me.

The winds of pressure rise and I'm tossed this way and that, until it seems my very being will break under the strain.

The downpour strikes at my heart with icy spears of apprehension and dismay.

Lightning shafts of discouragement penetrate my spirit as I submerge beneath a deluge of self-pity.

My vision is impaired; this tempest is an affront to my plans - the future is bleak and desolate -- foreboding.

Oppression broods ponderously overhead.

Lord, is there to be no end to this strife?

But wait! Off in the gloomy horizon is a tiny patch of blue!

My heart takes flight, out of the storm and into the dark dispelling Light.

With a sigh of resignation, the now-defeated squall sweeps away the last dark cloud, as the song bird in my heart breaks tremulously forth into melody.

Living, loving streams bubble up through my spirit, cleansing as they flow.

The heaviness and dross have been washed away by the fiery rains of the Holy Spirit.

Now the air is cool and fresh; my vision breathtakingly clear, as shafts of Son-light reflect through a rainbow of hope.

Lightness and joy envelop my very being, as I step forth with renewed vigour; determination in my heart, and a fresh commitment on my lips.

The 23rd Channel

The TV is my shepherd; I shall not want.

It makes me lie down on the sofa.

It heads me away from my faith.

It destroys my soul.

It leads me in the path of sex and violence

for the sponsor's sake.

Yea, though I walk in the shadow of Christian responsibilities,

there will be no interruption,

for TV is with me.

Its cable and remote, they comfort me.

It prepares a commercial for me

in the presence of my worldliness.

It anoints my head with humanism and consumerism,

my coveting runs over.

Surely laziness and ignorance shall follow me

all the days of my life.

And I shall dwell in the house watching TV forever.

(from a church bulletin, July 20, 1986

author unknown)

Christmas in July (and all year round!)

It says a lot about life, when you are so busy that you've not been able to exchange Christmas gifts with a friend until the middle of July!

My gift to my friend was a tin of really nice cookies (I hope they are still nice - and worth waiting for - after seven months), along with some home-made greeting cards.

Her gift to me was well worth waiting for:

She knows I love birds, and especially cardinals, and these are kind of cute: - but her gift means more to me than just that.

I've been thinking and praying a lot about JOY recently. Sometimes, in the midst of a busy and somewhat stressful life, JOY can be a bit elusive. I have made it a priority to seek out JOY and and put it into practice as much as I can.

Someone has said that happiness is dependent on our outward circumstances, whereas JOY flows from the life of Jesus within us.

I think that's why, even though we can be pretty 'down-in-the-dumps' sometimes, there can still be song, a hymn, or a chorus flowing through our heart and making its presence known in our mind. Even as I write this, there's a little Hillsong Kids chorus running 'round in my head:

Never give up, 'cause He's always there

Never give up, anytime, anywhere

Never give up, 'cause He's always there -

remember God is always by your side!

I have determined to stop and listen for a song that's running 'round in my head and heart, when I am a little down. Especially so that I can give expression to it by singing it out loud (well, maybe not in public -- but I can still hum it!) ...and allow the JOY of Jesus to well up from within. I've said before on this blog that I may have to grow old, but I don't have to be old and grumpy!

So, although this gift is a little tacky (I can say that, as my friend is completely computer illiterate and will never read this!), and although it is a Christmas decoration, it is going to stay out on display, in my office, all year round.

Do you have a Christmas decoration that stays up all year round?

From Generation to Generation

Thirty-six years ago, my sister published her first book --

a book of prayers for boys:

She sent a copy to my son, Kevin, who was eight years old at the time. He's 44 this year!

This is what she wrote in the flyleaf in 1973:

Her prayer was answered!

This year, my sister had the book updated and reprinted:

Kevin now has a son, Boyd, who has just turned 12. Chris really wanted to have his photo on the new cover of the book, but the publisher resisted.

She did, however, recently send Boyd a copy of the book, with this inscription in the flyleaf:

I pray that Boyd will always follow in his daddy's footsteps and make Jesus the most important person in his life!

Here's one of my favourite prayers from the book:

Man-Made Brain

Computers are marvellous things, Lord.

I love playing all kinds of games on them,

looking up strange facts and answers to questions.

I love to push buttons, play on the keys

and see all the exciting graphics.

Computers can do just about anything,

they're almost human.

But that's the really marvelous thing, Lord;

to think that you made man

with such a brain

that he can almost make a brain himself!

Thank you, Chris, for a great little book!

And thanks for sending it to my boys!

This is God Speaking....

A few years back, billboards bearing "messages from God" appeared along American highways. Those arch one-liners were commissioned anonymously and conceived by Charlie Robb, former creative director for the Smith Agency in Fort Lauderdale.

Some sample messages, each signed, simply, "God":



Loved the wedding. Invite me to the marriage.

Will the road you're on get you to my place?

That "love thy neighbor" thing -- I meant it.

Do you have any idea where you're going?

Follow me.

Keep using my name in vain, I'll make rush hour longer.

Need a marriage counsellor? I'm available.

I don't question your existence.

What part of "thou shalt not" did you not understand?

We need to talk.

Don't make me come down there.

(Tom Kuntz in The New York Times

Can you think of others you'd add, if you were God?

Three Men in a Boat...

(To Say Nothing of the Dog!)

Well, many thanks to my hundreds of followers for all your comments :)

It seems it's not altogether easy to assess exactly what it is that makes us laugh.

In my research for the magazine article, I remembered something that, many decades ago, really made me laugh. Maybe you will get a chuckle out of it too:

But I want to share with you something that my British sense of humour really enjoys.

I am reading Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat. Jerome wrote it in 1889. I've probably read it three times in my life -- that's a lot, considering I rarely read a fiction book more than once.

Here's the introduction:

...a merry, but scandalously lazy band of well-to-do young men -- and a plucky and rather world-weary fox terrier named Montmorency -- (decide to take) an idyllic cruise along the River Thames.

Feeling seedy, muses one of them dreamily, "What we want is rest." What they find instead is one hapless catastrophe after another.

Soggy weather, humiliating dunkings, the irritating behavior of small boats, and the "contrariness of teakettles" are just a few of the barbarisms our genteel heroes are forced to endure. But to which a delighted reader can only sing, Hooray!

But it's a passage about Montmorency the dog I'd like you to read:

To look at Montmorency you would imagine he was an angel sent upon the earth - for some reason withheld from mankind - in the shape of a small fox terrier.

There is a sort of Oh-what-a-wicked-world-this-is-and-how-I-wish-I-could-do-something-to-make-it-better-and-nobler expression about Montmorency that has been know to bring tears into the eyes of pious old ladies and gentlemen.

(At first) I used to sit down and look at him, as he sat on the rug and looked up at me, and think: "Oh, that dog will never live. He will be snatched up to the bright skies in a chariot, that's what will happen to him."

But, when I had paid for about a dozen chickens he had killed; and dragged him, growling and kicking by the scruff of his neck, out of a hundred and fourteen street fights; had had a dead cat brought round for my inspection by an irate female who called me a murderer; and had been summoned by the man next door but one for having a ferocious dog at large that had kept him pinned up in his own toolshed, afraid to venture his nose outside the door for over two hours on a cold night; and had learned that the gardener, unknown to myself, had won thirty shillings by backing him to kill rats against time, then I began to think that maybe they'd let him remain on earth for a bit longer after all.

If you've never read Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), I can only encourage you to get a copy. If you don't have much to laugh about, this book will change everything!