life – sethlewis.ie

It Isn’t Night for the Moon

Winter in Ireland. The time of year when the sun keeps shortening his hours, and the darkness encroaches steadily. It wasn’t late, but as I passed through our town that evening the sun’s face had already been missing for hours. And yet, I could still see his light. I saw it reflected off the full moon, beaming in the sky in all of its silver glowing glory.

The Never-Ending Novelty Of Staying With The Same Person

Love songs will never go out of fashion. But have you noticed that most love songs are limited to the very first stages of love? They’re almost always about two specific topics: either the excitement of meeting someone new, or the sadness of breaking up. It’s rare to hear love songs that focus on love in the decades after the “I do’s”. They’re out there, certainly, but they don’t make the top twenty lists.

It makes sense—by sheer numbers, there are a lot more relationships that start and end than relationships that go the distance. Perhaps the excitement of meeting someone new seems more interesting than the settled daily living of established relationships. There’s an appearance of novelty to it, except that when every song on the radio is about the same kind of novelty it doesn’t quite feel as novel anymore, does it?

The Little Weeds

It used to be a vacant lot, in the middle of town. Over months and seasons the grass and weeds have slowly given way to rows of potatoes, apples, carrots, pumpkins, onions, and more. This is our local community garden. We even have a poly-tunnel that fills up with tomatoes, lettuce, and courgettes that grow bigger than my forearm. Some of our volunteers are keen gardeners with plenty of knowledge and experience, and then there are people like me and my wife, ready to do as we’re told. This year, I’ve spent a lot of my time in the garden on one job in particular: killing things.

Threads (a poem)

It was the middle of September when Jessica and I went on our first date, while we were in university. That was twenty-three years ago, and ever since our lives have been woven together in too many ways to count. That’s what this poem is about:

In The Internet, But Not Of It

We went on a foreign holiday this summer and amidst all the uniqueness and differences, I noticed one thing that was all too familiar: we still had to dodge people who were too busy looking at their phones to notice where they were walking. I rolled my eyes at them, but then I remembered that one of the first things I looked for in our airbnb was the wifi password. Like it or not, the internet is ubiquitous, and even when we’re not using it our minds can easily turn to the things we’ve seen there, or the things we might post later. This is the way our world works now. But that doesn’t mean we should simply accept the internet’s new role in our lives without thought, or blindly take it on its own terms. There are still decisions to be made, and they are not insignificant. One of the biggest choices is where we will build our lives.

John’s Magnificent Pineapples

There once was a man named John the Magnificent. At least, that’s that he called himself. He lived near our home in Ireland a long time ago. I only know about him because of the effort he put in to proving his chosen name—because his manor house really is magnificent, and is still surrounded by gorgeous gardens that are now open to the public (I’m not sure John would approve of this, but he hasn’t said anything). In John’s day, a garden was a great way to display your wealth. His arboretum includes exotic specimens from around the world, and his greenhouses were so well designed and equipped that he was able to serve his guests home-grown pineapples—in Ireland!

Small (a poem)

A sunbeam
A bird
A smile
A word
A song
So revealing
So filled up
With feeling
A wrinkle
A fear
A sweat bead
A tear
A dance in the kitchen
A laugh in the hall—
A lifetime so big
Made of moments
So small

Of Birds, Baguettes, And Being A Creature

On a lakeshore in the French Alps, the old city of Annecy rises to meet the castle that crowns the hill. At the water’s edge, shops and restaurants trade in the same buildings that were used by medieval merchants. Our children were small when our family visited, but the memories are still clear in my mind. I remember the woman beside the water with a baguette, feeding the birds. I remember how fascinated the children were at how she could get the birds to come and eat bread right out of her hands. Then, when she noticed them noticing her, she generously gave the rest of her baguette to our family so that we could try it, too. Sure enough, a few bits of baguette was all it took to attract flocks of sparrows who flew around our heads, landed on our fingers and ate right out of our outstretched hands. Then again, who wouldn’t accept an invitation to share in a proper French baguette? As they came, we wondered at their tiny bodies, and we laughed at the feeling of their feet on our fingers. I suppose all animals will be this friendly and unafraid in the new creation. That will be glorious.

Wildflowers Anonymous (a poem)

Hello my name is
Wildflower
Here today and
Gone tomorrow
Bursting glory
In my hour
Then I fade away

With me are ten thousand
Others—each one with
The same bright colours
How will I stand out from these
If I am just the same?

I don’t mind
It’s not my job
My colours are
A gift from God
And if I bloom
For just one day
And if a million
Are the same
And if nobody
Learns my name
I’ll still bloom here—
I still will bring
My little piece of glory
Sing
My song into the story
For my Maker
For my King

A Personal Update

I’ve been living on this planet long enough to get used to a lot of things (probably too used to too many things), but I’m also starting to realise that there is—and always will be—more room for first-time experiences. The world is full of possibilities, and life is full of change. Things won’t stay the same for long even if I want them to, so I figure I might as well embrace the constant adjustments and do my best to keep learning as I go. That’s certainly the way it is with family life—our children keep changing and growing, with new experiences all around. Our oldest son just got his provisional driving license, our middle son got a drum kit, and our daughter—the youngest—is about to graduate from primary school. I’m about to be the father of three children in secondary school, a new experience for sure. It feels strange, but that’s ok. Life is like that. Bring it on. Another new experience for me is leading our local church, which just launched in February, so everything we do is new. It’s been a full few months, and I’ve loved it. I thank God every day for the wonderful people we get to share life with in our little church. If you’re not part of a local church, I can’t recommend it highly enough. Find one and get as involved as you can!