The wind blows where it pleases
Sometimes barely breathing
-hardly moving the tender grass
Sometimes raging
-bowing the trees like penitents
But no-one knows where it blows from
Or the place it now is heading
So it is with you, child of the Living God
So give yourself to the wild winds of the Spirit
Ride them like a Storm Petrel
Inches from a dancing sea
Held in the curl of creation
Full of the joy of it all
From John 3 7-9
This weekend our eldest nephew Josh and his girlfriend Alice are up to stay with us. It has been a great day- we took them over to Ostel Bay, wrapped up against the wild wind.
Rain hail and sleet came across a massive sky in horizontal sheets, curtaining off the island of Arran in the distance, then parting to give a tantalising glimpse through and beyond. You could lean into the wind like a cushion.
Lovely.
(Praise the LORD from the earth…)
stormy winds that do his bidding,
9 you mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars…
So I was thinking about wind-
The sort that fills a sail with purpose and
Cracks flags in front of the pavilion
That raises up a litter dervish from the gutter
And streaks hair across pretty faces
It choreographs the sway of the marram grass
And cools the evening rest
.
But there are other winds that scare me
Desert winds that strip the skin from bone
And clawing winds that rip the fruit from the summer trees
Shaking the cedars to their ancient roots
Katabatic acrobatic angry winds
Howling down the holy mountain
.
I am stirred like the sea by a distant storm
With more questions than answers
For this wind blows wherever it pleases
The sound of it is in the branches
But who knows where it comes from
Or where it is going?
.
So it is with every child born of your Spirit
Beckoned into the glorious uncertainty
Of the Kingdom
this fragile tent 