Out of Moab

There is a new family in town. Mother says they are refugees from Israel. There is a famine there at the moment, and so they have come here to find food. But Mother says they have done the wrong thing in coming here. Their God would not be happy about them living here with us in Moab. I am not sure why though.

There are two boys, one the same age as me and another who is younger. They are terribly thin little things. And Naomi their mother looks unhappy, mouth twisted with bitterness and discontent. Elkanah seems the most alive - choosing a house here to rent and trying to dig in the dusty garden. He is working as a labourer already in the fields, just gleaning at the moment. Naomi has been at the well drawing water.

Ishvi, my Uncle says nothing breaks people down like famine. Counting each mouthful and wondering where the next will come from. I canot imagine it. I must go to the well, myself.
Yours truly, Ruthi.

............................

The evening cool comes on, dust settling at last. Suddenly dusk will come like a blanket, soon after the sun has disappeared. The girl waits her turn. Ahead there is boy holding the pitcher awkwardly under one arm. He walks up to the edge of the well and lowers his pitcher, attached to the twine. It swings back and forth on the way back up spashing half it's contents back into the well. He sighs, and trys again. The twine swings erratically again. The girl moves forward hesitantly.
"You need to hold it steady".
He turns and looks at her, face strained and weary.
"Here, I'll show you." He lets her lower it again, and they slowely raise it together - nearly full to overflowing. Without speaking they lower her pitcher and bring it back to the surface. He sighs with relief and smiles briefly.

They walk away from the well together towards home.
"We are new here", he says.
"I know." She pauses; "do you like the end house?"
"Its alright. Much smaller than our house in Bethlehem. But at least there is food here." He speaks with a strange accent.

They reach her home and pause briefly.
"What's your name"?

"Ruth".

"Goodnight Ruth. Thanks for your help". He starts to walk away.

What is your name"?, she calls after him.

He turns and looks back. "Mahlon, my name is Mahlon." They both smile, and he walks away, carefully balancing his pitcherful.

Rise

Rise

Yes I will rise
Out of these ashes rise
From this trouble I have found
And this rubble on the ground
I will rise

Yes I will rise
Out of these ashes rise
From this trouble I have found
And this rubble on the ground
I will rise

Cause He Who is in me
Is greater than I will ever be
And I will rise

Sometimes my heart is on the ground
And hope is nowhere to be found
Love is a figment I once knew
And yet I hold on to what I know is true

Yes I will rise
Out of these ashes rise
From this trouble I have found
And this rubble on the ground
I will rise

Cause He Who is in me
Is greater than I will ever be
And I will rise

Well I keep on coming to this place
That I don't know quite how to face
So I lay down my life in hopes to die
That somehow I might rise

Yes I will rise
Out of these ashes rise
From this trouble I have found
And this rubble on the ground
I will rise

Cause He Who is in me
Is greater than I will ever be
And I will rise

Shawn Mcdonald from the album Closer.

Fantastic tune as well- find it as an MP3 on amazon.co.uk.

The taste of dates and friendship.

Today I had dinner with friends. Friends who had not eaten all day. (I had eaten though).
They were breaking their fast, because they are Muslim friends who are fasting during Ramadan.

A few years ago I made friends with my neighbour and her family. She introduced me to her friends and here I am several years later, meeting old friends and making yet more new ones.
I come in and they are talking with great clamour - the conversation continues until it is time to break their fast.

It is broken as dictated by tradition with dates and milk. Very sweet. Followed by samosas, soup, flat bread and then cous cous, lamb and vegetables. More conversation, news of friends in Libya, what it is like to live in Abu Dhabi. Two children race about jumping on and off furniture. Some washing up ensues - ending with tea or coffee and chocolate cake.

The party starts to break up - time to go home, the children need their bed (and the adults do too). I kiss a friend from Bosnia goodbye and they laugh at me for being so "Arab".

I climb in my car and drive home, with a full heart, remembering laughter and conversation. Arabic flying around the room and brightly coloured head scarves.

How I love my friends.

Answered and hidden

I have been pondering in recent months answered prayers that suddenly fall into place. Circumstances that give hope. In May and June of this year, I prepared for an exam, sat the exam, applied for a job, was short-listed, went for the interview, got the job I really wanted, finished all the "official" hurdles for GP training, and then found I had passed the exam. All in the space of 4 weeks.

Which has really left me thinking how kind God is. And how caring. To have helped me finish something difficult and given me a job I think I will love, at the end of it.

I prayed another prayer at the beginning of the year and then was reminded of the prayer at the beginning of May through the comments of others. A few happen-stances have occured in the past few weeks that have made me think that perhaps even this prayer is being answered. But it is still hidden from view, and I am only wondering. It is a slowely lightening dawn. However even if the prayer is not answered in the way I perhaps hope, the few months past have showed me again how faithful God is. And how I must remember this, answered prayers or not. God's kindness is there whether we feel and see it very evident and when it feels most hidden.

New Blog

I am starting a new blog. In keeping with starting a new job in a few weeks time that will be quite different to what I have done hitherto, I decided that I also need a new location and new thinking on my blog. CS Lewis writes about quiddity in relation to thoroughly enjoying each moment, howling wind and rain and balmy days alike. I will write on this more in further posts but this is partly the basis of the title of this blog. Each day is to be lived, carpe diem ("seize that moment, it will not come again), but also the "essence" of things must be appreciated. The neighbours singing accapella. In Romanian. A cup of tea. A good book. A new season. Fresh beginnings. Not that I dissect an enjoyable thing because that is impossible but reflecting on it, and giving thanks to Whom It Comes From, is highly possible. Please come and visit and leave your thoughts behind.