Nature – Page 6 – sethlewis.ie

Another Chance (a poem)

It’s been months since I paid any attention to the long-lost autumn leaves that are lying in the grass alongside the roads and paths that I walk on. The glorious colour they impressed me with when they fell is nothing but a memory now. Then again, have you seen what frost can do to a leaf on the ground? This morning, every vein of every leaf is highlighted in white—the intricate patterns stand out in shimmering relief—and once again my eyes are drawn in renewed wonder. A few weeks ago, I would have told you that these leaves were far beyond their glory days. This morning, they shine unexpectedly with a new and different kind of glory. Our Creator can make beauty shine from a pile of dead leaves, and anywhere he wants, and long after we’ve given up hope of it ever coming again.

Stop Looking For Friends, And Start Making Them

The treasure of true friendship is some of the richest, most valuable wealth in the whole world. If financial poverty eventually makes life unsustainable, friendship poverty makes it unbearable. By true friendship, of course, I don’t just mean acquaintances you enjoy a laugh with every once in a while, or online “friends” you can share pictures of your dinners with. I mean the real thing. The deep thing. The close thing. The uninhibited, understanding, unhurried and unbreakable thing. I mean the people who stick even when other people let go, the people who love you even after you’ve done wrong—and too much to let you get away with it. I mean the people who laugh with you about stupid inside jokes and cry with you about losses and disappointments and who know exactly what you’re thinking just by the faces you make. I mean the people you can trust enough to share life with—not just the social media highlight reel life, but the really real life, in all the mess and joy and shame of it. Friendships like these are more valuable than Blackbeard’s buried treasure (which is still buried, by the way). If we discovered his treasure hoard without ever developing true friendships, our lives would still be impoverished. Which raises the question: how do we find the treasure of true friendship?

A Compass For Our Changing World

We’re a few days into another new year, and nobody knows what the next 12 months will bring. What we do know is this: the world is changing fast. Culture is changing. Economics are changing. Demographics are changing. Beliefs are changing. As the world shifts around us, there’s plenty of disagreement about which of these changes are moving us forward, which are holding us back, and what the path of progress should look like. That’s a vital question. Years ago, C.S. Lewis made an important point about it:

Top Books Of 2023

I’d like to finish the year out by sharing the six best books I read this year, and some recommendations from my family as well. These are not books that came out this year—some of them are old, but I read them this year and enjoyed them. You might, too.

Don’t Let All The Conspiracies Be Evil

The headlines are usually bad. Nations conspiring against nations, scandals and corruption in governments, corruption and abuse in charities, organised crime, businesses cheating the system, people cheating each other, and so on. It seems there are a lot of people in this world working hard to devise evil plans and then working together to carry them out. Which is nothing new. Isaiah wrote about the same thing hundreds of years before the first Christmas:

“…the schemes of the schemer are evil;
He devises wicked plans
To destroy the poor with lying words,
Even when the needy speaks justice.” – Isaiah 32:7 (NKJV)

Finding A Bigger Story

This is a guest post written by my friend, Isabel Quinlan. She shared her story with our local Bible study group last week, and I asked her to write it up for you as well. Isabel writes a blog at https://isabelquinlanblog.wordpress.com

“Ruairí wants to go in there” my 2 year old said excitedly, prodding the picture of a farm in the board book i was reading him. I had a jolt of realisation, struck by the profound nature of stories. My 2 year old doesn’t yet know that this little farm is fictitious, but he instinctively knows that stories contain little worlds. Little imaginary offshoots of our own world.

I grew up with a Christian worldview. A view of our world as the creation of a being outside it, a 3D offshoot of his imagination. Through my teens my view changed. Like many other young people in Ireland at the time, I shed the narrative of a creator and dove into atheism, and began to view our world not as an imaginative creation spoken into physical existence, but rather as a collection of matter, governed by laws of physics.

He Didn’t Have To Promise

What do we have that God didn’t give us?

Our bodies are the work of his hands. Our hearts beat with his gift of life. Our lungs fill with his air. Our minds are aware with his gift of consciousness. Our strength and abilities come from him. Even the abilities we work hard to develop ourselves come from him, because what are we developing except his gifts, using the strength and life he gave us?

Around The Web

Today I’d like to share a few articles from around the web that I’ve enjoyed recently. Maybe you’ll enjoy them, too.

How Satellites Changed How I See The World

I grew up on the edge of a new world. I was the first of my friend group to own a mobile phone—an indestructible Nokia that could call and text, but I didn’t use it to text because that was expensive and who would I text anyway? No internet. No satellite navigation system.

I was 16. My parents gave me the phone because we lived in the country and I had just gotten plastic proof of my adulthood: a full driver’s licence. I drove our little Toyota pickup truck with a tape deck that was so old the tapes would play faster or slower according to the engine rpms—so the tempo of the music changed every time I changed gears. It was hilarious. And really annoying. That truck was mostly reliable, but only mostly. I remember it breaking down on top of a mountain and how thankful I was that I could just barely coast into the driveway of the first house after miles of forest. I didn’t know the people there, but they helped me. I couldn’t always depend on the car, or the phone signal, so I had to depend on strangers. Gradually, as the cellular towers sprang up and the satellite networks became more reliable, our family breakdown stories changed. Helpful strangers began to feature less often in them.

After The Flood

When the children went to school last Wednesday, it was raining. This is Ireland. We’re used to rain. Met Éireann gave an orange weather warning, but that almost always just means a bit of gusty wind or extra rain. I barely noticed. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I realised that this time it was not just a little bit extra—it was a month’s worth of rain, in 24 hours. The ground, so green and lush and well-watered, refused to take any more. The rivers carried away what they could, but they couldn’t carry it fast enough. Their banks broke. The green fields quickly became brown lakes. Then the lakes came into the streets, and the streets became rivers. And rivers don’t knock before they come inside.