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:
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.
Continue reading In The Internet, But Not Of ItThere 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!
Continue reading John’s Magnificent PineapplesA 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
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.
Continue reading Of Birds, Baguettes, And Being A CreatureHello 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
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!
Continue reading A Personal UpdateOn a sunny day in the Spring, we pulled the car into a gravel parking area at the end of a remote peninsula in Ireland. The sea shimmered in the light beyond the deep green fields lined and dotted with grey rock walls and white sheep. We opened the gate and crossed a field, and then another, and another, carefully following the faint paths worn by the feet of those who had come here before us. Sometimes we had to make a choice—it seems not all of our predecessors had gone the same way. Or did hooves make one trail, and feet another? Eventually the grassy fields gave way to rocky hills, and we scrambled up one side and down the other where the grass and mud and boulders and the sound of the sea all blend together into a kind of otherworldly magic and I had to remind myself that I wasn’t looking at an illustration of the Wild Lands of Narnia—I was in the real, tangible, wild of the actual world.
Continue reading Three Castle HeadEaster Sunday was a few days ago now, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. The effects of what we celebrated last Sunday continue to grow, slowly, like the buds of spring continue to open all around us and the fresh green continues to deepen into maturity and the apple blossoms transform themselves, somehow, into delicious fruit. Jesus said, “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). Then he died—for us. Now, 2,000 years later, his resurrection is still bearing fruit—transforming the cold, dead hearts of sinful, proud, selfish people who trust in his forgiveness and salvation into living, loving, new creations—a transformation that is every bit as glorious and surprising as the growth of a tiny, dull little sunflower seed into a towering, thriving wonder of nature. This is how God works. He does nothing by half-measures. He doesn’t ease off once he’s done enough to get by. He goes on, and on, and on—working wonders far beyond anything we could ask or imagine, and glories no mind has conceived (1 Corinthians 2:9). That’s why, in 1 Corinthians 15, Paul uses seeds as an illustration of the resurrection of God’s people:
Continue reading Easter Isn’t OverI sat down to write a poem about life
The roof is leaking.
I began to think about the happy and
The dryer’s squeaking.
I got up and sat again and thought
Of mysteries
And things I ought
To have done yesterday.
Life is full of joy and
I’d better fold the clothes.
How it goes so fast
Nobody knows.
Again, it’s full of joy and
Interruption
Moments of construction
Of this messy
Happy gift of
What was I saying?
Oh yes the gift I love—
Life
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