Tag Archives: The Hen

Wilderness Times

For Christians this wilderness is a place of discovery (p88)

Amen and amen.  No one wants to be in the wilderness, we would rather be in a place of comfort and pleasure.  But it is in the wilderness we learn who and what matters.  What will support and sustain us.  Who we can rely on.

I once spent several months, deep in my own wilderness.  I won’t go into detail, but it was a place where no one could reach me.  I was functioning of a sort, but I was lost and lonely.  Things that I had been ignoring finally reared their head and had to be dealt with.  I always explain it as all the stuff that I had been just pushing under the carpet, pretending they weren’t there, that they didn’t matter – well I turned round and fell over that pile I had buried there.  It was not a good place to be, but it was the place I finally had to confront what had happened, how I really felt, and what I was going to do about it now.

I discovered a lot about myself, and that time went a long way to making me the person I am now, and informing how I deal with other people.  I matured a lot.  I learned things weren’t black and white.  I learned that however sore and tender scars are, better to know them than ignore them.  Even as I came out of the wilderness, the scars are still there, and I think for me need to be, but I have learned to live with them (most of the time) by acknowledging them.  That was something I never did while I was living life pretending everything was alright.  It was only in going into the wilderness that made me face up to what was going on, sweep out the pile, and start to sort it.

I would have much preferred not to go there, but once there, I knew I had to stay there, confront stuff and sort it out, otherwise I would be no good to anyone or myself.  I guess it was my broken and being remoulded.

But I knew the arms of God around me.  Giving me the space to allow me to break apart and come back together again.

The Hand of God by Rodin By Yair Haklai (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

It was the time when I grew to love the end of Habakkuk:

Trust in a Time of Trouble

17 Fig trees may no longer bloom,
or vineyards produce grapes;
olive trees may be fruitless,
and harvest time a failure;
sheep pens may be empty,
and cattle stalls vacant—
18 but I will still celebrate
because the Lord God
saves me.
19 The Lord gives me strength.
He makes my feet as sure
as those of a deer,
and he helps me stand
on the mountains.

The wilderness doesn’t always give us answers or make all things right, but it gives us knowledge of what is, how things are.  Broken I might be, but God will give me the strength to stand secure.

In Jesus arms in the picture of The Hen, there is a space.  God’s love and care is not crushing or suffocating, but makes a space in which we are safe for whatever to happen.  Like the chick in the picture stretching its wings to see if it can fly.  We know that God is there, wrapping his arms around us, watching over us, loving us.

I’m not sure I sat down to tell you any of that, but that’s what happens with art and a well written reflective book…

Hope it makes some sense and helps in the lenten, and lifetime, journey of discovery 🙂

These thoughts are reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s painting The Hen (seen here).

This year for Lent, I am reading Christ in the Wilderness by Bishop Stephen Cottrell, published by SPCK, reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s paintings of that title.

I’m not necessarily going to blog every day on it, just when something leaps out at me – and they will be thoughts rather than full blog posts

Stop and Stare

Cottrell reminds us of the nature of art (p87) “raising as many questions as they answer” – or as my tutor from college would famously say,

there are many meanings

We come to all forms of art at different times and from different places in our lives.  It will speak to us differently each time.  We will be fed by our experiences, the opinions of others, and where we are that moment.  All of what art triggers is valid, and joins to help build the bigger picture.  In that way art nourishes us.  Because Cottrell also reminds us that art “leads us deeply into the grace-filled mystery of Christ’s own relationship with the earth, his relationship with God and his relationship with us.”

And so art encourages to stand and stare a moment.  To soak in what is happening – which is not necessarily what always appears at first looking; to allow it to speak, not just to our minds, but to our souls.  And as Cottrell says, in these pictures we have to let them lead us into the wilderness (p88) – to be there with Christ.

By Julio Rojas [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons
Perhaps this is a metaphor for life.  To take more time to stop and stare.  To look not just at the obvious meaning, but to see what is lying underneath.  To take time to unlock the layers of meaning,  To not assume we know it all, but to keep coming back and see what more we can learn.

This is perhaps most famously expressed in this poem:

Time to Stop & Stare

What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep, or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

William Henry Davies 1871 – 1940

So, as Lent progresses, lets take the time to pause, to reflect, to stop and stare

at what God is doing

at what God is saying

at what is happening in the lives of others that we can help

to consider situations from a different angle

to see if there is more than we first thought

Lets take time,

stand,

watch,

consider,

live with the wilderness,

and know God with us

These thoughts are reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s painting The Hen (seen here).

This year for Lent, I am reading Christ in the Wilderness by Bishop Stephen Cottrell, published by SPCK, reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s paintings of that title.

I’m not necessarily going to blog every day on it, just when something leaps out at me – and they will be thoughts rather than full blog posts

The Person I Can Be

To return to where Cottrell was before I wandered off on a tangent, he continues, relating to Jesus’ vocation and self-understanding

They show us his great love for the earth, for the whole created order, and for all creatures in it (p87)

and then blows my mind with

They lead us to a profound reflection on what it means to follow Jesus and be a people of prayer; to be people who gaze at daisies and cradle scorpions; to be people who, like foxes in their holes, find their homes in Christ; and who, like the mother hen who gathers her chicks together, are ourselves gathered into the safe embrace of  a God who is Mother and a Father to us all, and who longs to gather the whole creation into a new creation.

That is the vision Jesus shows us, and what he calls us to be.  They give us a picture of possibility, of what I can be, of what God asks of me.

I, we, may be in the wilderness, but this is how it can be.  That is the kind of person I can be in and through Jesus.

I want to be that person.

These thoughts are reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s painting The Hen (seen here).

This year for Lent, I am reading Christ in the Wilderness by Bishop Stephen Cottrell, published by SPCK, reflecting on Stanley Spencer’s paintings of that title.

I’m not necessarily going to blog every day on it, just when something leaps out at me – and they will be thoughts rather than full blog posts