inkhorn

So here I am, at another Blogathon. This one is turning out to be more of a discipline than I’d bargained for - learning to be still in the midst of chaos and putting pen to paper. As difficult as it seems today, I believe it needs to be done. Thanks FD for understanding, and those kind thoughts of comfort. My grandfather, went home to Jesus last week. He was 99 years old. There are so many thoughts flying through my mind right now as I try to straighten out and put down my feelings. Even though I knew this day would come, it still doesn’t lessen the pain and shock or prepare you in any way. I still feel sad. I still wish he were here. I still miss him. There are so many things I remember about him. Thatha , as we lovingly called him, was a force to be reckoned with. A brilliant sportsman, he had a whole trunk full of trophies and medals, garnered over years of competing and winning. But I admire him more for never boasting of his laurels. He had more to boast about than...

So what drives me – the seen or the unseen? Is it the money MD/I earn and the things I can buy with it (like all the books on my wishlist! *sigh*)? Or is it the desire for these “essentials” that motivates me to do what I do? Chesterton argues that it is the unseen;* and as I grapple with this issue, first hand, I wonder… For a while I thought I’d gotten over my hardfistedness, until it chose to rear its cynical self again. I thought my annoyance was justified; so I allowed myself to go over and over the issue until I’d been reduced to a mass of irritated nerves! I also knew that MD wouldn’t agree with my opinions, which just added fuel to the fire! After a fine imaginary argument with an absent MD, (during which I came up with several witty and pithy retorts!), I finally went to my Father and complained. I thought I was right to be angry at MD’s generosity  foolishness. Until He said that I ought to be ashamed of myself! “…And all shall be ashamed who are incens...

Dear B, As sisters go, we’re probably a unique pair. Such opposites, yet we get along so well. (As you probably realised by now, yes, I miss you!) I came across the poem that I wrote for you before I left home. And it brought back so many memories of you. I love so many things about you. Your buoyant enthusiasm and the tendency to jump into every enterprise, feet first! (How many times have I had to be the voice of sanity, if not reason!) Your unflagging loyalty and your penchant for flying to the defence of the three most closest to your heart, then (am adding L to the ranks now!). You have this amazing gift of reaching out to people and giving so much of yourself without expecting anything in return. I love the generosity of spirit and heart that sets you apart from all the rest. You feel things so deeply, yet you have a childlike joy and delight in the silliest of things! Your optimism surrounds you like a cloud (remember the stained glass painting of the butterflies and bubble...