This photograph was taken near the little village of
Maidens in South Ayrshire. The two
‘maidens’ on horseback are Sarah and Simone, daughters of my German friend
Meike. In the background is the island
of Arran, often referred to as ‘Scotland in miniature’ because of the mountains
at the north end. All year round the
lovely combination of sea, mountains and sky attracts visitors to our Ayrshire
coast. But the view is not always this
good. They are disappointed if adverse weather conditions conceal the island
completely.
Seen from the ferry port of Ardrossan, the mountains are
nearer and therefore even more impressive.
The story goes that back in the late 1870s a visiting preacher was given
overnight accommodation there by the local minister. He was assured that there would be a
wonderful view of Arran from his bedroom window. But when he arrived on the sunny Saturday, a
warm sea-mist completely obscured the view; then on Sunday heavy rain resulted
in the island disappearing behind grey clouds.
However, despite his disappointment, the preacher knew that
Arran, though invisible, did exist!
Seeing here an analogy with the question of belief/non-belief in the
existence of God, he was inspired to write the hymn which begins:
Immortal,
invisible, God only wise, In light inaccessible hid from our eyes.
The whole hymn expresses awe at the grandeur of God and His
creation. But I feel that it is a pity
that the writer used the word ‘inaccessible’ – implying that God is far away
and unapproachable. Experience over many
years has taught me otherwise, as you will perhaps understand from the
following account, written over thirty years ago.
Timely
Help
‘Let
us therefore boldly approach the throne of our gracious God, where we may
receive mercy, and in his grace find timely help. (Hebrews 4, v 16)
The situation was desperate. Bob, my beloved husband, had been told that
the cancer in his bladder had now spread to his lymph glands and spine. After five years of courageous refusal to be
defeated by pain and discomfort, he was finally forced to admit that he could
no longer continue to teach. Now he was
at home alone during the day while I was at my fulltime teaching job. Fortunately, our home was only a five-minute
drive from my school, so at lunchtime I was able to rush back to keep him
company for half an hour.
Although, of course, I was glad to do this, the physical
and emotional strain was so great that I prayed desperately every day for the
strength to keep calm and cheerful for Bob and for our son and two daughters. I
felt that my system was running on prayer power alone!
Looking back at my diary from that challenging period, I am
reminded of a remarkable occasion when, by God’s grace, I did indeed ‘find
timely help.’
One lunchtime, as I dashed into the staffroom for my
jacket, I was surprised to see the peripatetic cello teacher, who was busy
replacing a broken string on a pupil’s cello.
The previous string had probably snapped while it was being tightened to
the correct pitch. As an amateur
cellist, I am familiar with this problem, so I stopped to exchange a few words
with John before rushing off to my car.
When I
arrived home, I discovered, to my further surprise, that Bob had had a visitor
that morning. Our friend Marilyn, just back from Austria, had called with a
present for him Remembering Bob’s illness, she had kindly bought
him a little bottle of liqueur, made in Salzburg. I gasped in amazement when I saw that it was
in the shape of a cello with a broken string!
The label was ‘Saiten-Sprung’, which means ‘burst string’.
This astonishing coincidence amazed and delighted me,
lifting my spirit and reassuring me that an unseen source of ‘timely help’ was
indeed at hand! ‘
Recently I discovered a modern hymn, written by one of my
contemporaries, Christopher Martin Idle, which expresses the joy when, as it
were, an unexpected shaft of sunshine lights up a dark unhappy place.
Here is the first verse:
Lord,
you sometimes speak in wonders, unmistakable and clear, mighty
signs that show your presence, overcoming doubt and fear.
Thank you, dear Kathleen, for sharing those coïncidences with us ! While I was reading your last post tonight, I thought about the wonderful verses by Saint Exupéry in Le Petit Prince : "On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." What would our lives be without those signs of hope and how lucky we are when we are able to feel this invisible power of love ! Thanks again dear friend! I am greatly looking forward to your next post.
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