A boy of seventeen was taken by cancer early this month. I learned of it through an Islands friend, learned that this young member of the tiny English community on les Iles, had passed on. And the worst of it? He was without Christ, as far as anyone knew. Islands youth are not exactly known for their virtues; drugs, alcohol, fornication, and the rest all play a large part in this weary generation of lost souls, and though the field is white unto harvest, the labourers are few. Very few. Maybe that is why this untimely death struck me. It is tragic, yes: yet should this not be a reminder to us of the reason behind it all? Should not the people of my generation be standing up and crying out against the distractions of today, leaving behind the hopes and fears of our own humanness, and abandoning ourselves for the sake of the Gospel? It is not necessary to travel thousands of miles to foreign countries to find those in need of Christ's love. You are surrounded by them. It is your duty, my duty, our duty: and let us not shirk the responsibility. Perhaps that is one reason for such a poignant reminder -- that we could more clearly see the needs, feel the urgency, hear the cries of a godless culture.

May we all heed the call, and run with enthusiasm on the long road of Kingdom service.

Vision

A few days ago, I read this: "If we do not run our belief about God into practical issues, it is all up with the vision God has given.... The test is the sixty seconds of every minute, and the sixty minutes of every hour, not our times of prayer and devotional meetings. 'Though it tarry, wait for it.' We cannot attain to a vision, we must live in the inspiration of it until it accomplishes itself. We get so practical that we forget the vision. At the beginning we saw it but did not wait for it; we rushed off into practical work, and when the vision was fulfilled, we did not see it.... It is essential to practice the walk of the feet in the light of the vision." It is still very fresh. Actually I keep turning back to it, every time I open my little brown copy of Chambers, finding myself struck again and again at the heart-piercing truths contained there. And I am ashamed to look willfully at my own soul, to know that I too am guilty of running ahead in the practical out-workings of the vision, then becoming suddenly disillusioned when I miss the fulfillment of it. Once there has been kindled that enthusiasm and vigor for the task of running the race, I still must wait, and walk in the light of God's will. The practical is good, and profitable, and absolutely necessary. But all in His time, not mine.

A sign of spring

This morning I saw a crow for the first time in months. It struck me because I realized that it's been a long time -- a winter's time -- since the last sighting, unless you count the ones you see when traveling. Which I don't. (when I'm talking about home-crow-sightings, that is.) The one I saw this morning was large and hulking and the color of a starless night, which is the way most crows look, and he reminded me so much of our friend old black-toed Bob that it made me start missing Bob all over again. Bob is another crow, actually, a French crow from the Islands. We have lots of good memories of him, sitting on our deck or knocking on the windows to be fed, and then greedily munching whatever we gave him. I think, if we would have been there for just a little longer, Bob could have been a very tame bird.
But, back to the one I saw this morning, it made me wonder if it was a sign of spring? If crows don't like winter, or if they generally head south when it gets cold, I'm not aware of it. That's probably because I am only used to the habits of Bob, who liked to roll around in snow drifts and perform impressive acrobatic stunts in the frigid North wind. Nonetheless, I am hoping that today's sighting does mean that spring is on the way. If it's any indication, crow #1 was just now joined by three others, and they are all sitting in the tree outside my window, cawing wildly. Happy almost-spring!

Ed

May we all live lives as yours,
devoted to our Lord,
precious to our family,
selfless in service to a cause
that is the only one
Worth fighting for.

1938 - 2014

March 1st

The Month of the Olympics has come to a close, but the spirit of high achievement and inspiring stories lives on. And there are many things that remind us of good memories. There are exclamations of delight when someone opens the cupboard and finds a cereal box emblazoned with pictures of athletes and handy pictures of said athletes gobbling corn flakes. There are a few certain tunes that keep getting stuck in our heads. And down the hill, at the snow-covered golf course, our cross-country ski tracks have become punctuated by several large snow piles... somebody has been crafting some impressive ski jumps, and, judging by the tracks, has actually been using them quite successfully. We are considering posting a sign down there -- perhaps "the Kremlin" or "welcome to Rosa Khutor"... or maybe, "See you in Rio"?