More Poppies web Version · 2018. 3. 6. · More poppies Jim Smith ©Jim Smith.May 2018 This material may be downloaded and copied for private, group or church work. It is not to

Jim Smith

MorePoppies

More Poppies_Layout 1 05/03/2018 13:54 Page 1

More poppies

Jim Smith

©©Jim Smith. May 2018

This material may be downloaded and copied for private, group or church work. It is not to be changed and it is not to be sold.

[email protected]


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Softly you come to me, falling on me like snowflakes, drifting into my soul, healing my wounds with love. Softly I reach out for you, longing with all my heart to know your touch. Softly, I fall asleep into your arms Softly forever


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More poppies! “Thank you so much for Poppies. I keep it by my bed.” “I love Poppies. I read them day and night - especially when I need encouragement.” “I never knew what “Poppy moments” were before I read this book. Now I see them everywhere!” “After reading Poppies, and hearing you at a “Poppies” evening, I don’t feel so angry about my loss.” “Thank you Poppies. You have helped me smile again.” I could go on and on. So many people have responded to Poppies, and it has taken me completely by surprise. Since the original book, I have had so many more “Poppy” moments, that I have enough for a second book. Here they are, along with new sections - “Through the week” and “Night poems.” I hope you enjoy them.

I reached into my heart to find a gift to show my love. I wanted to bring you gold and silver, precious jewels, but I had none. “All I have is me” I said and I was sad that my offering was so poor. “It’s all I ever wanted” he said and smiled.


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Contents Poppies. All the latest Poppies. Through the week. Something for each day of the week. Poems to think about. Poems to explore in your mind. Night poems. For those who find sleep difficult and the nights long. A little bit of Bible. A look at Luke chapter 15 Prayers to lift our eyes. Nice prayers

Other books in this series

Poppies. This is the original “Poppies “book, still being widely read. A bucket of tears. Reflections on loss - also being widely read.

Note from Jim Smith

All the material in “Poppies” and “More Poppies” is my creation. Various Poppies have been put into many newsletters and magazines and I am very happy for that to happen. “Poppies” and “More Poppies” are always with us as we travel around. But they can also be downloaded from the POPPIES & MORE POPPIES page of www.prioryfellowship.org


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Sometimes only a puddle will do A young boy was holding his mother’s hand while the rain poured down and formed big puddles everywhere. She wanted to keep him safe and dry, but in his eyes, the puddles were lakes and oceans, waiting to be explored. She felt the tug of his hand. “Mummy” he said, “can I go and play?” A big smile swept over her face, and she let go of his hand. He ran out into the rain and jumped into puddle after puddle. His big yellow boots were soon full of water and his clothes were soaked through, but he did not care. He was an explorer! He jumped into puddle after puddle. The water rose up in huge fountains, glittering and sparking like diamonds in the sun – rising high into the air, only to crash back onto his head and run down his clothes. A little girl joined him and holding hands they jumped and jumped, giggled and screamed, laughed and laughed. One puddle was just too deep for them and they both fell down into the water. They laid there - a mass of arms and legs, hats and coats, boots and shoes, screams and giggles. Finally, exhausted, they stood up – bedraggled, muddy, tired and totally happy. Sometimes, only a puddle will do.

Only a puddle Life can be tough sometimes, and we all get worn down by the daily slog to exist, to overcome and to endure. But on the inside we are all children. So why not, now and again, jump in the puddles and just enjoy? It doesn’t solve the problems, but sitting in the biggest puddle, exhausted, laughing and happy seems to make the problems look smaller. When we take them up again, they do not seem quite so heavy. Sometimes, only a puddle will do.

Can’t I just enjoy for a while? Is this so wrong? Sometimes my adult world crushes my spirit in a grip of iron and I just want to be free. Is this so wrong? “No! Jump in!”


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Lord, you are the joy of my life, but sometimes things just get too much for me. Please be my puddle, and let me jump into you for a while, and be free.

Standing up on the inside!

The class was settling down for its lesson, but one little girl was standing at the window, looking at the children playing in the fields across the river. “Sally” the Teacher called, “It’s time to begin our lesson.” But Sally didn’t listen. She was fascinated by what she was watching and just could not turn away. “Sally” said the Teacher, “Can you sit down so that we can begin.” Still no response. The teacher, by this time very angry, shouted “Sally, you are a naughty girl. Sit down at once and behave.” Sally turned round slowly, and very deliberately sat down on her chair. The Teacher smiled with satisfaction at her victory. “There” she said, “that wasn’t too bad was it?” Sally pulled herself up as straight as she could and said “I may be sitting down in the outside, but on the inside I am still standing up!”

Made to be me! So many people struggle to be themselves. Sometimes we have been badly shaped by our parents who want us to be the person they wanted us to be, not the one we were meant to be. Sometimes groups we belong to try to shape us. We feel we have to live up to their pattern, when it is not the real us. Sometimes we try to conform to what we think society expects of a wife, a parent, a worker, a student. But trying to be someone else never works. God made me to be me, and when I am me, things work out in the end. But can I?

I just want to be me. Why is that so hard? I don’t want to be who you want me to be. I just want to be me. Is that too much to ask?


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I am in a prison made by others who want me to be what they want me to be - the good wife, the good mother, the good worker, the good Christian - good good good! They want to wash me and dress me, shape me and make me - parade me as they see me. But I want to build sandcastles on the beach and jump into the sea - feel the wind and the tide. I want to run into the orchard and eat rosy red apples. I want to dance in the moonbeams, climb every mountain and sing til the valleys ring. I want to be free. I just want to be - me. “I made you to be you. Not the you that others wanted you to be Just you - just to be you. And I love the you I made you to be. Take my hand - and I’ll let you be you.”


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We are going to need an angel! Mary and I left home at 03.30 to travel to Ghana. Now here we were in Accra airport and the Immigration queue was out of the door! We were hot and tired, and this was going to mean a long wait. Why did I take up this work! In a rather faithless way I said to Mary - “We are going to need an angel tonight.”

Just then an Immigration official touched my arm, and I assumed she wanted to see our yellow Fever certificates - or something. There is always “something!” But when she said “Hello Pastor Jim and Pastor Mary” I looked again. I recognised her from our work in Kumasi. “Your friend is outside and he asked me to help you. Give me your documents.” Somewhat surprised, I gave her our Passports and landing cards. She led us through the long queue to a separate desk, where we got our entry stamps. Then whizzing through Customs, we were out of the crowd and in our car. Some hours later, when I was settling down to sleep, this conversation started:-

“So” said the Lord, “you found my angel?” Yes. “I had the strong impression that when you asked for one you thought there would not be one. Am I right?” Yes. “You were rather grumpy. I almost thought you thought I wouldn’t answer you. Am I right? Yes. “But I still sent you the angel.”Yes. “That’s because I listen to your heart and not you voice.” “Wow!” I said “I am blessed.” “Yes you are – always.” Lord you are a true friend. Please always listen to my heart and not my mouth!


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What’s my problem? Life has a habit of tipping us up doesn’t it. I had just finished a whole day of teaching in central Accra, capital city of Ghana. I was tired and looking forward to getting home to our base for tea and toast. But the traffic back was terrible, and when we got near our base the heavy rain had caused the river to flood and we could not get the car through. Just to add to our joy the power was off and we were parked by the river in complete darkness. Nothing for it but to walk. I stepped out of the car and immediately my shoes were filled with mud and water. Great start! With Mary behind me holding on to my belt, I picked my way across the bridge and along the flooded and very muddy road, using the tiny light from my iPhone. Mary was clinging on to me and at one point I had to say to her “If you hold my belt much tighter, I will soon be in my birthday suit!” It felt like we were on another planet. I could only see dimly ahead. The rain beat down. Our base which is usually well lit and visible wasn’t even a black shape - the darkness was so dense. My world had shrunk down to a few feet of light which showed only mud, mud and more mud. Then this conversation began. “How’s it going then?” “Well Lord, to be honest, not so well.” “Oh why is that?” “Why is that? Look at the mud the rain, the dark..” “Yes I see it all. And your problem is?” I stopped in the middle of a big shoe-filling puddle. What was my problem? In his service there are no problems - only situations which, with his help, we overcome. Was I dying? No. Was I at risk? Only of becoming a mud baby! Was I alone? No – my wife was clinging on, and my trousers had so far stood the strain. Did I have a light? Yes, even if I had seen brighter fire flies! Soon we were home, the kettle was on and the smell of toast was filling our room. Outside the window the rain continued to fall, but inside all was well. Sometimes a little perspective will shrink the largest problem.


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The mountain looked so steep and I was tired of climbing. The darkness pressed in and I could not see the path. Then you spoke. “Don’t worry” you said “I have climbed this mountain before and I know the path. Hold on and all will be well.” I held. It was!

Lord, sometimes I lose my way. I’m so glad that you never lose yours!

Poppies can shine anywhere

Coming into a large town, I was stopped at “God’s eternal traffic lights.” We call them this because when they go red, I have most of eternity to wait until they go green! I was rushing to a meeting and got very frustrated at the unchanging red light. Then my eye was caught by a woman on the pavement right next to my window. She was in her fifties, with very poor clothes and was pushing a walking frame. She was a woman with Downs syndrome, and we have a friend who has this syndrome. I know, from being with him, how wonderful these lovely people are, but what a hard time they have in our society. I felt sad for her and all that she had been through. Then the Lord spoke to me. “Just watch” he said. Someone - obviously a young friend - stopped to chat and the friend had a dog. The Downs syndrome woman reached down, took the dog and held it. Suddenly she smiled a smile so bright and full of joy that it lit up the whole road. It was the most beautiful thing I had even seen. I could feel its warmth and its joy. Then the Lord spoke again. “Poppies are everywhere son. You just have to watch and wait.” He is right. Poppies are everywhere. In that moment the poppy was shining in the face of this woman, and it reached out and touched me. The “eternal” light went green and sadly, I had to drive away. But in my mirror the poppy still shone.


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In what looked like the wreckage of a life a poppy flowered in all its beauty In what looked like the wreckage of a life one dazzling ray of light and love “Can I pick it Lord?” “No. This poppy is for you to see but for me alone to own.” She – his poppy Me – his eyes to see how much he loves. Poppies – they are everywhere

Poppies are on the inside

Three women came into hospital on Christmas Eve. One of them caught my attention. She had no visitors - not then nor on Christmas Day. She had come into hospital after laying for many hours on the floor before she could reach the phone. Her life was very sad. Others in the ward had visitors, but she was alone and unloved – but not by the nurses. They washed her, gave her food and medicine. Slowly she brightened up. Christmas day – but she did not respond to Christmas greetings. She was shut into her own sad world. Then a Nurse appeared with a lovely present, wrapped in cheerful paper with a lovely bow on it. She took the woman by the hand and said “This is for you Julie - a present from the hospital – just for you.” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “For me? Just for me.”


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“Yes” said the nurse. Then the nurse did what nurses do - she gave this lady the best medicine there was. She took her in her arms and kissed her. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. The poppy was there – in the heart of a nurse, of a compassionate woman who saw that there was only one thing needed - a sharing of her own compassion with a woman so rejected and hurt. This is what the Lord does. He puts poppies in many loving hearts, so that when they are needed, they can be shared with those who so desperately need them.

I thought - I’m nothing Who would ever care for me? I am old and tired The icy winds have torn away my heart and here is nothing left. I am an empty pot, fit only for… “For what? Did you really think that on the day heaven rang with praise for my birth I would forget you? I came to you in the love of another who shared without thinking of the cost the love of her heart - and mine. She was my poppy and you? You are the love of my life.”


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On the outside? I was speaking at a meeting in a church when I noticed a lady at the very back of the room. She was behind a table and sitting in a wheel chair. She was hidden away. As I was speaking the Lord spoke to me. “You see that woman? Bring her forward.” During the coffee break I went to speak with her. At the end of our conversation I said “Let’s get rid of this table” and l lifted it away. I carried on and then the Lord spoke again. “That lady - bring her into the centre of the room.” So at the next break I went to speak to her again, and when we finished I got behind her chair and said “Let’s get you a better position” and wheeled her into the centre of the group. I did not think any more about it. Some years later I met her again and she said “Do you remember when you pushed me into the centre of the room? I have always felt an Outsider. When you pushed me forward, at first I felt a bit exposed, but everyone was so friendly that I was not made to be an Outsider. I always wanted to be in the centre of the room after that. On the day you moved me, I felt for the first time that I was not an outsider anymore. I felt I belonged. It changed my life.” She found her poppy, and it flowered gloriously. So many people feel that they are Outsiders. Maybe because they have a physical issue, or because in the past they have been hurt, ignored or rejected, and so feel that on the outside they are safe. At least there they cannot be hurt again. But outside is cold and lonely. We all need to feel that we belong - that we matter. Pope Benedict put his finger on it when he said “Not one of us is here by accident. We all belong and we all have a part to play” Of course it takes courage to stop being an Outsider and to move into the centre. It’s a risk - but it’s a better risk than staying on the outside. It is so lonely there.

Too many hurts crowd out love’s call. I hoped and longed but the glass shattered cutting my heart to pieces and there is no mending


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Now I am on the outside and I’ve locked the way to my inside No more hurts can ever come to shatter me some more. In here, inside here alone and more alone I will die unloved but no one will know or see. At least in here it’s only me and only me dare not risk to hope. A voice! A broken voice from a broken man who went to the farthest outside that I might not have to hurt alone. And all he said? “I love you.” I cried to know that I was and am and always will be to him that special on the inside


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Made to dance I was sitting in a café one morning, feeling rather fed up. Not a poppy in sight! There was a free paper, and casually looking it I came across this article about a man who was a 101 years old. He was asked “What is the secret of your long life? “I don’t know” he replied. “All my life I have got out and I like to dance. I took every opportunity to dance. It has kept me young.” “So” he was asked “what would you say to the younger generation today. “I don’t know” he said and then with a twinkle in his voice he said “I would tell them to go out and dance!” The thought of this 101-year-old man doing the tango with some flighty 80 year old chick made me smile, and there, leaping from the paper, was the poppy! Life can be tough, and it is on many occasions. But we were made to dance! We were made to enjoy! We were made to smile! It’s not always easy but doing the tango at 101 – that’s got to be fun!

I’ll just put in the old D.J. My wife says I look so smart! Just twiddle the bow tie, put on my dancing shoes and away we go again. 123,123,123, turn 123…

My – she looks a stunner tonight. Bombazine always suited her. She wore it the night we met. When I saw her - I just knew she was the one for me.

And I was right! 63 years – and we’re still dancing! She’s been gone these many years, and my dancing shoes are gathering dust! But some nights, when all is quiet, I put them on again and holding her hand away we go.


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123,123,123, turn 123 – what a couple we look. Because no matter how many years pass, you’re never too old to dance – on the inside.

Romeo and Juliet Early Sunday morning, and I’m in yet another airport lounge - this time Lisbon. We had left the hotel early, fought our way through all the security and now I’m having my first (or is it second?) coffee of the day. The lounge is very quiet, and as I settle back to read, a little scene is enacted in front of me and a Poppy is born. A young couple come into the lounge, holding hands and looking in every way a couple in love. They collect their drinks and sit down opposite me. They are both gazing blankly into space. Then the young woman takes a quick look round, and seeing only Mary and I there, and thinking that we are too old to care, throws herself into her lover’s arms and kisses him. He, all goggle eyed and gooey takes her in his arms, and it’s all “Romeo and Juliet” from there on in! Eventually they come up for breath, and seeing us sitting there, make a sheepish escape off into another part of the airport. That’s the trouble with young people - they think we haven’t been there! Mary has always been my Juliet. The difference is that I know all the discreet places in most airports in the world! Our young Romeo and Juliet will learn!

Love! But they set me thinking. Love is a spontaneous thing. It just bubbles up, with little warning and no explanation, and we end up doing the most unusual things. In the cold light of day we might say “Why did I do that?” But when the river is flowing, the human spirit just will, and that’s all there is to it - and is it so bad? Now and again, however tough the path, it’s good just to let love love, without any need to explain. Every now and again a poppy is born. After all, it’s what makes the world go round.


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Dare I? No - people will see. Dare I? No - it’ too embarrassing. Dare I? No really, I mustn’t, I shouldn’t. Dare I? YESssssssssssss! Dare you?

Two hearts - one love On a cold winter’s night a car is wending its way home through the dark and narrow lanes of Sussex. Inside the car, it is warm and all is well, until out of the night a steep bend looms up. The driver turns the steering wheel, but too late. The car clips the curb and flips over onto its roof. When it finally comes to rest the driver is hanging upside down inside the car -in the dark.

Just a light Desperately she calls out “God, if only I had a light.” Then to her amazement, the tiny light over the door flickers on. By that steady glow she unclips her seatbelt, pushes open the door and climbs out into the road, completely unhurt. Looking back into the car, she marvels at her escape. If it had not been for that tiny light - but wait. There is no tiny light on inside the car. There is no light at all. The electrical circuits are all broken and the battery smashed. How could this be? There can only be one answer. Someone heard her! In the most unlikely place, in the dark, upside down and very afraid she found -a poppy. They just get everywhere! But do we see them?

Just one tiny light and hope poured down Just one tiny cry and help poured down


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Just one tiny faith and love poured down Just one tiny child held in Father’s arms Two hearts One love All is well

Sweet nothings

On a Winter’s afternoon, the bitter wind was whipping through the terraces of the Amex football stadium in Brighton, where I had come with my son and grandson, and 30,000 other hardy souls to watch football. Sitting next to us was a young couple and they had eyes only for each other. Spooning away, football was the last thing on their mind. When our team scored, 29,998 people jumped up and screamed themselves hoarse. But Romeo and Juliet were untouched by anything outside themselves. They spooned on, gazing into each other’s eyes and whispering sweet nothings – although quite how you whisper sweet nothings when the whole Stadium erupts around you is mystery to me, but love conquers all! As the match wore on, the wind got sharper and Juliet, in her attractive little black dress - loved by Romeo but not very wind resistant – started to shiver. At this moment, Romeo showed his true love. He took off his super duck-feather filled “designed to climb Everest” jacket and draped it over Juliet’s shoulders. She snuggled down into it, and gazing into his eyes, kissed him. Ah – young love. You can’t beat it! Life can bash us all up from time to time, and the longer we live, the more “bashed up” experiences come to us, and it is easy to lose faith in life and in the future. The cold winds of the world can bite us and shrink us down, tearing away our real selves, and reducing us to blocks of ice on the inside. But love is still there, blocking out the cold and shining warm sunshine into our lives, reminding us that no matter how hard the winter is, spring is always just round the corner. Romeo and Juliet found, deep in his super duck-feather filled “designed to climb Everest” coat a poppy, and I saw it as well We were both encouraged. Poppies are everywhere. We just have to look.


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A wood fire, chocolate, a warm blanket and a door locked against the cold and being told “I love you, here - take my coat take my hand take my warmth take my heart take my life.” And knowing that I need to and I want to and I can and I will. Deep in your arms safe against the cold, held, secure trusting I fall asleep. Love conquers all

Tears are precious

A woman came into my office and we began to talk about this and that. I had the feeling there was something on her mind, but I have learnt to wait. Slowly we moved onto family - hers and mine. Then she mentioned her husband’s name. She stopped talking and I saw one tiny tear appear in the corner of her eye. In the silence it made its way out of her eye and trickled down her face and dripped onto her neck. It was a lovey, tiny, gentle tear, marking loss and love. She looked up. “I’m so sorry I am crying” she said. “My husband died last year.”


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Why do we feel that we have to apologise for tears? Perhaps it is our Englishness, which doesn’t like to make too big a show of our emotions. But tears are so special. Each tear is a poppy. They give value to our loved ones and help us recall them in our hearts, rather than our heads. They can arrive in our eyes at any time, and we should welcome them and let them be a memorial and a recall, a memory and an offering. They are poppies growing in the garden of our sorrow - a sign of love, of remembering, of hope.

Another night of tears. Why do I cry so much? They cannot get me back what I have lost. Yet each tear is precious, a treasure, an offering from my heart saying “You matter. You always did. You always will.” Tears - kisses of welcome and belonging to celebrate those we loved, lost still love and always will.

My coat needs zipping up! After a busy Sunday working in a local church, I accepted my daughter’s invitation to go out for coffee - especially as she was offering to pay! We settled down in our local coffee shop and put the world to rights. As we talked, we became aware of a tiny figure who had come up to our table, holding out her coat. “Need my coat on” she said. Dad was close behind, so we expected him to do the job, but this little girl was very determined. Holding out her coat to my daughter she said - “Want my coat on.”


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So Sarah put her coat on, but this did not seem to satisfy her. “Want my coat done up. My mummy always does my coat up, so I am cosy.” So coat was duly zipped up. But there was more. “Look, my coat has got a giraffe on it.” We admired the giraffe. “And a whale and a great big wiggly spider!” At this, she dissolved into giggles and ran away. What struck me was the very naturalness of all this. There was no “Do you mind helping me?” Or “I don’t suppose you have a minute to..?” A tiny one had a need. She wanted her coat done up, so she could be cosy. She wanted to share the fun of her coat with someone and she wanted to share it now! She was a tiny poppy, growing gently in our coffee house. What better place. Why then do we treat Jesus any differently? We hesitate to disturb him. We worry about our impurities and mistakes. We struggle to find the right words and would he really care about me? Would he care about the lovely giraffe on my coat, or the beautiful sunset I have seen, or the things that worry me - which must seem so small to someone so great. Why not be brave, like this little girl. Just go up to him and say “I need my coat done up so I can be cosy!” Do we really think that a Lord so warm and open to us would do anything else but help?

Sometimes I well I was wondering what I mean is do you think you could but I know you are busy and really its such a small thing I shouldn’t really bother you and..well.. “Pass me your coat then!” Thank you


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Batman! I was sitting in yet another Café with my daughter and this time Batman was sitting at the next table - or at least a young boy wearing a Batman helmet. Suddenly there was a huge scream. I turned round to see Batman’s mum pulling down his trousers and mopping his legs as quickly as possible. He had managed to spill his hot drink down him. But despite all the pain and tears, he had, like any sensible boy, held onto his biscuit! We left and went back to our car. As we drove past the coffee shop there was Batman running along the pavement, complete with mask but minus his trousers! But he did not care. He was happily munching his biscuit. It takes a lot to separate Batman from his supper! Sometimes it’s good to pick a poppy that makes us smile. We weren’t laughing at Batman. We were laughing at the priorities of a young child who, no matter what catastrophe struck him - biscuit first in all things! Life can be tough for all of us, and often there isn’t much to laugh about. But the “Smiling poppies” can pop up at any moment. Let’s not get so bowed down with life that we don’t have the time to enjoy them. I’ve done with smiling. Life is too hard for that. I must get on, get through, get over.. “I’m sad.” Who spoke? Who are you? “I’m a smiling poppy. I can’t do anything else but smile, so that you will smile too. I grow in every day of your life. Oh I l know you don’t always see me. I hide a lot, and then just pop out - smiling, like a big golden sun. I think I make your day better, but if you don’t want to see me..” Oh. Sorry. Yes I do. “So can I be your smiling poppy now?” Yes please. “Good! Come on then. After me. “Smiling poppy. Smiling poppy. Smiling poppy…”” I smile!


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Poppies get everywhere On morning I set off on my bike, and we were both in a grumpy mood. Me because on my last ride the bike chain broke, and I had to walk 11 miles home in the dark and wet. Bike - because I blamed him for this, whereas he thought it was my fault for pushing too hard. So in this grumpiness, we rode along a small and muddy track through the countryside. I came round a bend, hit a patch of mud and the bike dumped me in the hedge and fell on top of me, with a rather determined scowl which said, interpreting for those who don’t speak ‘Bike’ - “Serves you right. Don’t blame me for everything.” I was just weighing up my response, as I lay in the mud when I saw, just in front of my face, a tiny tiny yellow flower. In all that mud and rotten leaves, there it was, smiling at me. It looked so lovely. It was so beautiful. Perfectly made, it seemed to radiate a yellow glow of optimism and hope in the middle of the mud and rubbish. It was never going to be a big flower. People were never going to say “Wow! Look at that lovely flower.” They wouldn’t even see it unless they lay in the mud. But I saw it and I enjoyed it. I stood up out of the mud, picked up my bike and rode away – happy that I had seen such beauty in a strange place, and sad that no one else would see it - unless they fell off their bike! It seems to me that life is like this. All of us come off our bikes at some time. Life comes along and tips us into the mud - perhaps over and over again. Sometimes we feel so flattened that we think we will never get over it. But here is the joy. Even in the lowest, muddiest and most hopeless places, a poppy can grow. However bad it gets – and it can get really bad – there is always a little gem of hope growing. There is always a poppy somewhere. And maybe only when we are in the mud can we see it.

The old wind blows and there are no windows to keep it out Bitter rain falls and there is no roof to protect Gripped by an icy hand which stunts all joy I wither.


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And yet deep within this toil a tiny bud of hope has never died. Snuggled down it has endured and waited. I do not see it yet, but deep within I feel it’s stirring and it’s tiny voice, whispering “I’m here.” In this whisper I see beyond the ice and hope is born.

Thorns can become poppies

I am just writing this poppy as I saw it, with no explanation To those who find themselves in this place there is no need of explanation. I was standing in a lonely place. In my hands was a bunch of very sharp thorns, and they had pierced my hands and I was in great pain. A figure came up to me, and as he got closer, I saw that it was the Lord. I had thought many time, as the thorns had pierced my hands, of all the things I would tell him when I got the chance. I was angry and hurting. It was his fault. Now was my chance to shout at him- to scream, to blame him for all the agony and for failing to answer my prayers. But once he was there, I didn’t want to say any of those things. I just held out my hands and said “Can you take these away?” Great love poured from him, and I began to cry. He cried as well at my pain and my loss. “Give them to me” he said.” I held out my hands and he took the thorns into his, and I noticed that his hands were cut and scarred. Many thorns had been there before. I began to cry at the agony of my loss and at the pain - mine and his. I cried and cried until there was a puddle of water at my feet.


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I heard him speak to me. “Look” he said. I looked up and to my astonishment, in his hands where my thorns had been were the most beautiful poppies I had ever seen. They shone and soothed my pain. The Lord said “I can take any thorns and turn them into poppies if you will let me.” I fell to the ground in exhaustion and despair. “Please “I said “Please do it.” I looked, and on the ground where my tears lay, poppies were growing. Lord, sometimes it gets very hard to follow in your footsteps. They seem so deep, and I have little strength. Do not be afraid. Press on with me. When it gets too tough, I will carry you. Lord, give me the courage to place my thorns in your hands, because they are only hurting my hands. In my tears let the poppies grow.

Pearls need warming! I was sitting with a friend recently. The conversation drifted around a bit as it does among friends, and then he said “I’ve had better months.” Immediately alerted by the tone of his voice I asked him what he meant. There was a long pause, and then out it poured, like a mighty river. So many troubles and struggles had worn him down, and he had no one to talk to – until he met me. I guess me, being me, just chatting and drinking coffee had made a relaxed attitude, into which he felt he could pour his ocean of sorrow. It went on for an hour until he reached the end. “Thanks” he said. “I just needed someone to listen.” Queen Elizabeth was looking at her coronation crown recently on TV. Some of the pearls in it are thought to have been Queen Elizabeth 1st earrings “They look a bit sad now” said the current Elizabeth. “Pearls are like people. They need a little warming!” Well my pearl - my friend - certainly needed just a little warming. He needed to know that someone cared, that someone would listen, that someone would not brush him off, criticise, give useless advice. He just wanted someone to sit back and listen - someone to warm him and make him feel valuable. He wanted to know that he mattered to someone - and what’s wrong with that?


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Sometimes I feel that I am so alone. Life crowds in and there is no escape. Is there no one who for a few moments will hold my hand and tell me “You really matter?” A man with broken hands reaches out to touch my broken heart. “Of course there is” he said “You only had to ask.”

British Airways regrets… “British Airways regrets..” How often have I seen this text on my iPhone, and it always means trouble. This time Mary and I got the text from B.A. while we were in Lisbon. We could not check in on line, and so I didn’t know what was going to happen. B.A. regretted - and so did I! But into this confusion I heard the Lord. “Son, how many times has this happened?” “Hundreds!” “And what was my promise to you?” “You will always get me home.” Um. Perhaps the Lord could raise the dead but sorting out B.A. - that’s another thing altogether! But at the airport - what is this? Usually Lisbon airport is very crowded, but today the security area is quiet and there are plenty of seats in the lounge. We go in hope rather than expectation, to the gate, and right by it is a café, where we can sit and watch what was happening. We get out our laptops and begin to plan for Ghana. My phone pings – a plane will be there in an hour – and it was! But the best was yet to come. Boarding the plane we discover that the Computer (who, I have since decided, must have been a Christian) has allocated us the very best seats in the cabin.


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As we relax back, I heard a voice from heaven. “Was that an apology I heard?” “Yes Lord. You’ve done it again.” He replied - “Of course I have. Did you ever think I would not?” I decided that a diplomatic silence was the best answer! Why do we ever doubt that he would let us down? I am sad to admit that, under pressure, when I am tired and lost, I do. But he would have an answer to this. He would put his big cuddly arms around me, and say “Son, did you ever think I would not?” No Lord. Of course you wouldn’t!

Sometimes the storms are just too big And my boat is so tiny. Then I am afraid. “But didn’t you see me?” Where? “I am always in your boat.”

Lord forgive me. I am so often weak and afraid. I wish I was stronger, but the truth is that I am not. When the storms rage, I ask only one thing – that you stay in the boat with me. Then I know that I will eventually come safely to harbour. Thank you.


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Through the week Here are seven days of thought, reflection and encouragement to see us through the entire week. I hope they give us courage and joy as we walk our daily walk.

Monday

But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Esther, a Jewish woman, was queen to Xerses, King of Persia. One day Haman, who hated the Jews, made a plot to have all the Jews killed. Someone had to tell the King. But if anyone went in to the King uninvited, it was certain death. Into this dangerous situation came Mordecai, a Jewish man, and he said to Esther “Your nation will perish unless you tell the king what is happening.” But Esther was afraid. She told Mordecai “If I go in uninvited to the king, I will die.” Mordecai challenged her to do what was right, and with great courage, she said “I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” Women have been called on many times to pay a high price for their faith. Women have been raped, abused, assaulted, tortured and martyred for their faith in Jesus. We are seeing this today with the Christian women and men of the Middle East, as ISIS rape and murder them for being Christians. Women have great reserves of courage. I know that many are facing difficult situations which require courage. For sometimes family situations, work situations, sickness and mental illness require as much courage as the threat of being beheaded. Let’s draw on Esther’s faith, and make it ours. Three men from an earlier time faced certain death for their faith. They needed great courage, and this is what they said:- “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”


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Esther was a woman of similar courage. She took on her situation, without knowing what the consequences would be. For Shadrach and Esther trust was enough. Let trust be enough for us in the coming day.

Verse for the day: You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. (Isaiah 55:12) Thought for the day: Lord, let me walk thought this new day and have the courage to follow you in all things. No matter what I face, let me look up into the light of your face and be strong.

Tuesday The angel went to Mary and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favoured! The Lord is with you.” We live in a society where it is easy to feel worthless. Life is complex, and we can easily imagine that we have become a number, not a person! We don’t have money. We don’t have power. We don’t have influence, so our spirits sink down. Fortunately, the Lord works in the reverse way. People really matter to him. He knows all of his creatures by name. Not one of us is here by accident, even though there are billions of us. We have a name, a place and a value beyond anything we can hope for or expect. So we come to Mary. A country girl, young, inexperienced and uneducated. But the Lord used her, because he knew her heart. He knew that she would respond with a “Yes”, however amazing the request he made of her. Every person is valuable – loved, held, cherished and supported. The Lord made us, and the Lord loves and upholds us. Let’s not give in to despair. We are the diamonds in his crown. I read this recently. Think how valuable it makes us:- Christ has no body now, but yours. No hands, no feet on earth, but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks with compassion on this world.


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Verse for the day: “Daughter go your way. Your faith has saved you. (Mark 5:34) Thought for the day: Lord, I am a diamond in your crown. Hold me close and never let me go.

Wednesday Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Hannah was in distress. She had a deep longing for a child, but no baby had come. So she speaks to the one person she knows will understand her pain— the Lord. In the Temple, she poured out her heart, and shared her deepest longing. The Lord heard her, because as she left the Temple, we read “her face was no longer downcast.” One of the joys of being human is that we know how to express our longings, and the Lord loves this about us. So let’s use this precious gift for those who are in need but who cannot “pour out their soul to the Lord.” Let’s cry for the pains of the world. Let the Lord hear the agonies of his creation through us. Not only is this an intense privilege, but as we cry to him for others, a miracle takes place. He hears our needs as well and meets them. In giving away our hearts for the needs of others, we receive. I read this recently and it has helped me bear the burdens of others. As I have done this, I have found my own burdens easier to bear. Shall we try it together? “We identify with the suffering world to call down God’s blessing on it.” Verse for the day: “Go in peace and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.” (1 Samuel 1:17) Thought for the day: Lord, let me feel the needs of others and bring them to you. As I do this, I too will be blessed


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Thursday God said to Abraham “A son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.” God promised Abraham a son, but as he grew older and older, this promise seemed to be dead. Abraham managed to hold on to it, but his wife Sarah had greater difficulty. One day, three visitors turned up at their tent, and Abraham gave them hospitality. At the end of the visit, one of them said “I will return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.” Sarah was listening outside the tent and burst out laughing. “After I am worn out and my master is old, will I now have pleasure?” But she was in for a shock. Some time later, she became pregnant and gave birth to Isaac. “Wow” said Sarah, “God has brought me laughter!” Sarah had to learn that when God makes a promise, he keeps it. Our earthly minds present him with a list of reasons why he cannot keep his promises. He smiles, and goes ahead and keeps them anyway. Whatever God has promised us, he will do. Our job is simple - just to believe him. But mostly we give him the “Reasons why you can’t possibly do it” list and walk away. Let’s not do that. When God makes a promise, we should rush out into the street and shout “Alleluia. He will surely do what he has promised!” We serve a promise-keeping God. So away with “Can’t do it” lists, and on with “Alleluia!” Here are some lovely words from the Italian Monk Padre Pio, and we should receive the Promises in his way:-

“We should serve the Lord with laughter!” Verse for the day: I am confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus��(Philippians 1:6) Thought for the day: Lord, I often doubt you, but be faithful to me and increase my trust in you.


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Friday There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. Anna had been a widow for a long time. The centre of her life had been taken away. She could have become a sad wreck of a woman, complaining about being lonely, being ill, being depressed. We can understand that can't we? When a great tragedy strikes us, most of us struggle to rebuild our lives. But she had a secret. Like a really nice chocolate she had a sweet hidden centre - her faith in God. She wasn't a profound teacher or writer. She did not go every day to explain biblical or religious truth to a devoted audience. She went to the Temple to worship. And that was her secret. She put God at the centre of her life, and spent as much time as she could in his presence. She didn't write famous choruses or songs or share deep profound experiences of faith. She wasn't known as the “Great Anna!” She just put God at the centre of her life, worshipped him with her love, and got on with it! The Christian faith is made up of ordinary people, who in their simple trust and love, have had extra ordinary experiences - Sarah, Hannah, Abraham, Mary - and why should we not be next? Let’s see our value to the Lord, put him at the centre of our lives, and live in security and love – forever.

Verse for the day: I will never leave you or forsake you. (Hebrews 13:5)

Thought for the day: Lord, increase my faith and give me opportunities to serve you as Anna did.


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Saturday In Joppa there was a disciple named Tabitha (in Greek her name is Dorcas); she was always doing good and helping the poor. Dorcas lived in Joppa and everybody spoke good of her. She spent her time “doing good and helping the poor.” What a wonderful thing to say of anyone. She didn't gossip, slander or pull people down. She did not rejoice when people got into difficulty or leave them to struggle. She didn't like to see things going wrong, and with dedication, she set about “doing good.” Doesn't look like much does it, but we live in a society where “doing bad”, “doing people down” and rejoicing at their fall seems to be the usual way. We need more and more people who, in quiet and unobtrusive ways, “do good.” Such people do not make the headlines. They don't get the big appreciation, or the good seats in church. They don't get any reward - financial of otherwise. Quietly, with no show, they do good. The world often gives little credit to such people. But it is so important that Dorcas and her “doing good” found a place in the Bible. Her ministry, small and unseen, got the Lord's approval. What more could anyone ask? Those who “do good” are at the highest level of service. Is that you? Then rejoice! You are highly valued by the Lord Verse for the day: The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.' Thought for the day: Lord, let me do good today and encourage at least one person.


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Sunday When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” Lydia was a trader in Philippi. She sold purple cloth and was down by the riverside when Apostle Paul came along, speaking about Jesus. The Lord touched her heart, and she accepted him as Lord. Then she invited Paul back to her house. First Lydia gave her life to the Lord. Then she gave her home. Her home was a woman's home - welcoming, loving and caring. Into this atmosphere a church grew - of course it did! She loved the members into her home and let them enjoy all that she had made it. So many think that we have little to give. But we all have something the Lord desires and can use powerfully for his Kingdom. He wants to make our homes, our room or the place where we live an extension of his kingdom. Lydia was blessed to be honoured in this way. So will we be. Let’s make our homes places where Jesus can be and can touch and bless others. This is a precious gift to him, and he loves to receive it. Let him receive your home, today and every day. Verse for the day: When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” Thought for the day: Lord I give you my heart, my home, my room, my space – everything.


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Poems to think about We all need to be loved - whoever we are and however we feel. Here are some poems which reflect on this need. I hope it makes us feel more special. Let’s start with love - what better place?

Love is… Love is someone’s hand in mine, a glance which says “I am glad you are here.” The security of being, belonging, becoming precious to you and you to me. Love is not caring where we are or what anyone thinks. Love is reaching up to your face and in love’s embrace surrendering.

Remembering

Memories - they can be good and not so good. But we all have them.

Do you remember when we came here? We sat by the window and watched the sea. That dog - remember that dog? And the ice cream which ran down your shirt – and you loved that shirt!


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I laughed and you chased me and held the cone over my head! We had to come back to change, And you – you know! We walked on the beach and watched the sun go down. Remember that young couple! Really – and in public! But it made us think – we were young once. Sleeping that night, with you beside me Remember? Remember Always remembering and longing for what was and can never be again. In my head the film runs and runs never ending, remembering. Losing faith and holding on

It is easy to lose faith, but not so easy to find it again.

I tried to find something to fill the gap so that I would not be so empty but I cannot find anything to fit. In the end I turned to you, not because I wanted to but because there was no one else to help. It was a faithless turning


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but it was a turning. The hill was steep steeper than before. Now I have to climb “Yes” he said “but not alone.” He took my hand in his – a broken hand and held me tight. “Together we can climb.” All I ever wanted

We are very special to the Lord - every one of us. I reached into my heart to find a gift to show my love. I wanted to bring you gold and silver, precious jewels, but I had none “All I have is me” I said and I was sad that my offering was so poor. “It’s all I ever wanted” he said and smiled.


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Grey

I wrote this poem when life was really on top of me, and memories of sad days were swamping me.

Grey aching days another Gethsemane How many more til I am free of the grey days where there is no sun, no hope and only clouds to press in on me down on me until, broken I fall Only to rise again for more aching grey days where hope dwindles and even tears are gone to leave a void which can never be filled except by more grey aching days. Oh God - is there never any end?


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The Carpenter

Life can sometimes really damage us. Who can put us right? Who can make use of the wreckage which we sometimes become?

Drifting on the wind and tide a broken plank gnarled and twisted splintered on the many rocks it has been smashed against yet still alive It has survived its testing and now waits only a carpenter who will see its worth and use it once again and when he does it will not split or splinter for in its brokenness it has been made strong Perhaps for me as well the greater Carpenter can find a use and then I’ll serve his greater purpose In my brokenness maybe in me he’ll find a greater strength


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Desperate

Sometimes the path can seem so steep that we despair of ever getting home. The next poem “If” is an encouragement.

The night is dark and I am far from home. I am lost and lonely A child crying in the night. I cannot find a place To put my feet. The path is steep and I am so alone. “Do not be afraid. I have climbed steeper hills.”

If

If I call Will you hear me? If I fall Will you catch me? If I slip Will you hold me? If I drown Will you save me? If I’m hurt will you heal me? If I cry will you love me? If I’m lost Will you find me? yes


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Joy

Life can be tough and it can squeeze all the joy from us. This is sad, because we were made to dance.

I danced in your glory And then danced some more. “That’s O.K.” he said. Dance as much as you like!” I did.

The smile

I love this poem. It says more about the Lord than it does about me. But when I read it the smile seems to pop up in my heart - and I need it.

Deep in the heart of God a tiny laugh was born. It wasn’t much of a laugh and on the mighty lake of his love it hardly caused a ripple. But even so, it came to life. Day by day it grew, PUSHING up into the bright light of his hope. Sometimes, the storms would overwhelm it but this tiny laugh was tough. “One day I will” it said. And one day it did – rising up into the hearts of those who needed it. And then it died, content. For it had achieved its divine purpose.


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It had brightened hearts and encouraged joy. It had lifted the fallen and blessed the weary. And so it went away. But – deep in the heart of God another laugh was born, and another, and another. For God made us to live, to love and just occasionally –to laugh.


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Night poems

I usually struggle to sleep and this led me to write the “Night Poems.” Each one fits, for me, a different part of the night. I have given each a short introduction, which might help place them in their right setting.

Sunset

It’s hard when the sun goes down, the night fears gather around us and the hours stretch endlessly ahead. This first “night” poem sets the scene for the coming night.

Uneasy rest. Trapped in doubt, heavy darkness stretches out. Shadows trouble. No peace. “Please help me.” He came with a hand so soft, touching my troubled mind caressing away all fear. It’s beautiful. But will it last? “Please don’t go” I say. He smiles. “Don’t worry, I never do.”


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Outside If I can’t get to sleep quickly, the night becomes a weary experience. This poem tries to lift our eyes from the tyranny of the clock to the heart of creation.

Moonbeams caress the troubles of the day and they fade in a beauty beyond words. The trees are still, their busy day is done and now they rest secure Flowers, waiting their anointing of early light shine with unstriving beauty Nature, knowing the plans of its Creator rests. I want to rest too. Yet so many things disturb and I cannot find any peace. He takes my hand gentle, pressing, words so old “Peace, be still.”


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Suddenly I understand. I belong. The moon, the trees, the flowers - and me. Knowing the hand of my Creator I rest.

Worries

In the dark, when we cannot sleep and the hours drag, worries grow in size and they keep us awake and troubled. This poem tries to turn our eyes outward and away from them and like “Outside” towards God’s creation.

Water young leaps and sparkles diamonds in the sunlight Water slow, wanders through the meadows lazy and unhurried. Children’s voices splash the trees with joy. Water deep deeper, deepest cool and cooling resting in untroubled depths. Water ending journey over Spills into the mighty sea. Water’s journey never ending always changing always free.


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Water’s stillness ever calming. Water gentle gentle me.

Time passes

How weary a night can be. I look at the clock. 3.00 a.m. I look an hour later and it is only 3.10.a.m. Perhaps we have got to look for our peace in a different direction.

Golden light reflects the glory of the heavens on the restless sea. Golden light reflects the glory of the deep blue and the One who made it. Calmed by a gentle voice even the mighty sea must rest and delights to do so, becoming then the mirror of his glory. I long for that gentle voice to lullaby my troubled mind. In the dark I hear that gentle voice.


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”Gaze on my timelessness and rest secure. All is well and all is well and all will be well.” Lullabied, I rest, secure.

Desperate

The night can really upset us - at least it can really upset me. I can cope with difficult things in the day, but in the dark they just get on top of me. I pull the duvet over my head and know that I am defeated. Fortunately, I follow someone who overcame every defeat - the hard way.

The night is dark and I am far from home. I am lost and lonely a child crying in the night. I cannot find a place to put my feet. The path is steep and I am so alone. It’s finished for me. The hill – this hill, this last and dreadful hill, is too much for me. He spoke to me. “Do not be afraid. I have climbed steeper hills.”


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It must be fun!

Sometimes I can find a way through by thinking positive things:- I want to run out into the garden and pick flowers! I want to go down to the stream, take a boat, paddle it onto the lake - a beautiful mountain lake, cool and deep, surrounded by snow-capped mountains and a deep deep blue sky. I want to paddle for a while, being still. I want to dive in, swim ashore and eat ice cream without having to pay and without getting fat! I want to walk through still dark forests where birds don’t sing, and where I can kick up leaves with my feet, smell the scent of pine and wood. I want to throw stones into the sea and walk along the beach, watching the sun go down in a golden fire ball, and look at my wife, watching the light touch her face, see her smile, hear her laugh, know her close. I want to hold my children, my babies, in my arms. I want to hear them murmur, see in them the reflection of my wife. I want to hold my lost baby and have all my grief eased away by the warm smell of a bathed and powdered child. I want to walk talk with my grown sons, fine young men with all their lives before them, to share manly things with them and draw strength from their youth. I want to share my life with my daughter, enjoying her beauty, her tenderness her joy. I want to snuggle into a deep feather bed, safe against all the storms that rattle my window panes, with my wife beside me. And I want it to last forever. And the Lord replied “Sounds good. I think I can manage all that - anything else?”


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Love me

Love can overcome the night. I tried many times to write a poem on this love, and every time I was unhappy with what I had written. Then one night, I was with my wife, and I saw it. Sometimes our only defence is to throw ourselves into the Lord’s arms. It takes courage.

We walked out under the stars just you and me, your hand in mine. We didn’t speak what was there to say? I drew you close and moonbeams sparkled in your eyes. I held you close. The night sounds settled on us like a mist. We kissed and in that moment I asked “Lord can you love me more than this? In the warmth of your tenderness echoed back the answer “Yes”


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The light is coming again

What a relief when, at last, I can begin to see the faintest of light coming through the window. Furniture begins to take shape and the world comes alive again. The night is over.

So many troubled thoughts have hounded me in the dark stealing away my peace. But with the sunrise, their power has gone. They drift away like mist. A new dawn. Creation shakes off its rest and rises to begin again and so do I Morning. I hope for better things and hope brings courage. Thank you.


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The day begins again So it is over at last! Daylight, coffee, a shower, breakfast and to live again. I have survived another dark and long night. The next one will come, but it might be better. But for now the day holds challenges, worries and joys. I see people walking, talking, travelling. The shop is busy. Thank you Lord for journeying with me.

In the gentle sighs beauty came like a lazy afternoon when the sun is high and the meadows sleep Gently, so soft I hardly notice the beauty touching my face my heart my soul Sighing beauty came I yielded and sank without knowing into a love beyond words and was calm and whole and free Sighing I surrendered life and love into your loveliness and sighed into eternity


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A little bit of Bible! Sometimes it’s good to have something to think about. So let’s look at Luke’s Gospel chapter 15 together.

Luke 15:1-7. The Lost Sheep Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Then Jesus told them this parable: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbours together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

Number 100!

Night is settling in and the Shepherd rounds up his sheep to put them in the sheep pen for the night where they will be safe. The Shepherd is tired, cold and hungry. It’s raining and he is ready for his supper. 98, 99 ? But where is number 100? Probably eating grass in another field somewhere. That number 100! He always a very stupid sheep! Still, with 99 safely in he can spend the night out in the cold. Supper calls. No - not this Shepherd. Locking the sheep in the pen he walks off into the night, walking muddy pastures, looking in streams, slipping down banks, but never yielding to the call of home and bed. 99 is never enough for this Shepherd. Finally there he is - number 100. Wet, sad, lost, lonely, hungry, bleating. Does the Shepherd give him a few whacks with his crook? Number 100 certainly deserves it and was probably expecting it. But not this Shepherd. Hoisting the wet soggy sheep onto his strong shoulders, back he goes across wet meadows, slipping and sliding. And when he finally gets back to his friends after locking number 100 safely up, he says his “That 100! He’s just not worth the trouble. Look at me – hungry, wet covered in mud! Next time I won’t bother.” No - not this Shepherd. He calls out , “Rejoice with me. I have found number 100!”


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Valuable

* Every sheep is valuable. Jesus said “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matt 10:29-31) * None will be lost. Jesus said I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. (John 10:28) * He will always come for us. Jesus said For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." (Luke 19:10) We all get lost from time to time. But the Lord will always come looking for us, bring us safely home and rejoice over us. Have faith and trust. All will be well. Julian of Norwich a strong Christian woman from the 14th century said this and let’s write it in our hearts:-

All is well and all is well and all will be well

Luke 15:8-10. The Lost Coin

“Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbours together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

She would always remember her marriage day - what bride would not? There were so many presents, but there was one above all which she would treasure forever – the precious ten silver coins - her dowry and her inheritance. She had always kept them safe, but when she looked at them the other day, disaster! One of the coins was missing. How could such a thing have happened? But she was not the kind of person to sit and despair. She got out her brushes, her lamp and set about searching every single part of her home. Hour after hour she searched, and never once gave in to despair. This coin was precious and deserved all her effort. Then at the end of a long day’s search, just as she was about to put her brush and lamp away she saw a glint of silver under the bed.


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She was so excited, that she called all her friends in. “I have something to show you” she said. They wondered what she was talking about. When they were all there, she got her coins and counted them out one by one. But only nine? Then triumphantly she pulled number 10 out of her pocket. There was a great shout of joy and lots of clapping. “Yes” she said ”rejoice with me. I lost it, I searched and now I have found it.” That night she slept content, and under her pillow safe from loss were 10 coins.

The Lord never changes The sheep was foolish. It got itself lost by accident. The woman in this story was careless. She lost something very precious because she was not looking after her coins. But Jesus does not change. Whether we get lost by accident or by design, he reacts in exactly the same way. He comes looking for us and leaves no stone unturned until he has found us. He said this: “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” (John 14:23) That’s it. If we give our lives to Jesus, he and the Father come and make their home with us. If we wander off, by accident or design, like any good parent, the Lord will come looking for us. We are secure in the Father’s house – because of God’s love for us. Nice isn’t it! Julian of Norwich heard these words as she was praying, and I think they sum up the message of the coins very well. We must learn to live inside them:-

The Lord said to me “I protect you most safely!”

Luke 15:12-24. The lost son “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. (11-13)

“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to his father. (17-20)


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“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. (20) The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. (21-24)

Coins, sheep and now a person - all lost and found. This last story is the one we all like the best, because most of us can see ourselves in this young man. Excited by the world, he took his money and spent it big! But like so many before him and since, he discovered that what he had bought was dust and ashes and what he had left behind was pure gold. It took him a long time to wake up. Only when the money ran out, the friends ran out and he was eating the pig’s food did he realise just how empty a life without father can be. Sadly many never wake up to this reality, but blunder on, getting deeper and deeper into the despair and emptiness of life without God. While he was struggling with himself, Father was waiting. On this occasion he came no further than the gate and longed for his son to return. We know from the lost sheep and the lost coin that he searches for us when we are lost. But in this story his search is in waiting and longing. His arms were ready, but this lost one had to come to his senses first. Sadly this Lost One had not read the stories of the sheep and the coin. If he had, he would have run home as fast as he could. But he saw father only as a judge ready to punish. How sad. God is nothing like that is he. So he eventual gets his story ready and returns. “But not as a son. I know I have lost that position.” I wonder where he got that idea from? I see it in lots of people. They see father a standing with a big stick, ready to punish They do not know the God who is waiting to say “Rejoice with me.” So back he comes and starts his speech, only to find himself smothered in Father’s love. What a wonderful picture. Father and Jesus do truly rejoice when the lost come home. They offer nothing but acceptance and love. What about judgement? They know that those who have returned have judged themselves, and probably punished themselves enough already. The Lost need love, acceptance and healing.


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From that good beginning a new life begins, and all that was wrong can be right. But this is done within the love, not outside of it. This lost son had his own poppy moment - and what a spectacular poppy it is. It has been flowering in lives for 2000m years and will go on doing so until the Lord returns. Let Julian have the last word:- So I chose Jesus for my heaven. No other heaven was pleasing to me than Jesus who will be my bliss when I am there and this has always been a comfort to me that I chose Jesus as my heaven.

Prayers to lift our eyes

Here are a few prayers we might like to have beside us for those times when we need them.

Teach us good Lord

This is the well-known prayer of Ignatius Loyola, a very godly man and a very sincere servant. It is so encouraging

I Teach us, good Lord, to serve you as you deserve, to give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not to seek for rest, to labour and not to ask for any reward, save that of knowing that we do your will.


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Thanks This is another well-known and lovely prayer from Richard of Chichester.I have left it in its old style of language.

Thanks be to thee, my Lord Jesus Christ, for all the benefits thou hast given me, for all the pains and insults thou hast borne for me. O most merciful redeemer, friend and brother, may I know thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, and follow thee more nearly, day by day. Amen.

Make me a channel of your peace This prayer comes from the heart of St Francis. It is beautiful. ��

Make me a channel of your peace. Where there is hatred let me bring your love. Where there is injury, your pardon Lord And where there's doubt, true faith in you. Make me a channel of your peace. Where there's despair in life let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, only light. And where there's sadness ever joy. Oh, master grant that I may never seek So much to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand. To be loved as to love with all my soul. Make me a channel of your peace. It isn't pardoning that we are pardoned.


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In giving to all men let we receive. And in dying that we're born to turn around. Oh, master grant that I may never seek So much to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand To be loved as to love with all my soul. Make me a channel of your peace. Where there's despair in life let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, only light. And where there's sadness ever joy.


“Thank you so much for Poppies. I keep it by my bed.” “I love Poppies. I read them day and night. “I never knewwhat “Poppy moments” were before I read this book”. Now I see them everywhere!” “After reading Poppies, andhearing you at a “Poppies” evening, I don’t feel so angryabout my loss.” “Thank you Poppies. You have helped mesmile again.”

So many good comments came after “Poppies” that I havepicked many new Poppies and here they are – enjoy!

There’s always a poppy somewhere


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