Preaching with a purpose

I used to find life itself to be a treadmill, a continual circle of getting up, eating, working going to the toilet, going to bed ONLY to start the same routine next day. I guess that was a part of being depressed.   If we treat this life as all important we are going to get into trouble.  Even if you are rich and famous everything can become a bore.  We should be living this life as well as we can, but be looking forward to the next, something you can only do if you have Jesus as your Saviour.  When you are sorted for the next life this life becomes an interesting prelude to the next. A simple life on little income is but an hors d'oevers to the bliss which it will be to worship our Lord Jesus in heaven.

Sometimes I think that writing a blog is like working on a treadmill; you just have to keep plodding on.  No-one is interested in what I wrote about last week of last year, but only in the thought of the moment.  Perhaps I should go back over old ground.  So why do I keep going?  I think I have important things to say.  Of course a lot of what I say is quite commonplace but when I speak about Jesus I believe I am saying very important things.  I know that not everyone wants to spend any time at all thinking about Jesus, but I hope that what I have to say will reach to the heart of someone who longs to hear that there is hope and good news in Jesus.  This is for the person new to thoughts of Jesus as well as for the ones who already know Him.  We all need to remind ourselves of what Jesus can do for us, or has already done for us.  Sometimes we get depressed with this life and forget what a wonderful Saviour we have.  All this life's prob...

I have had five restful days in the Principality of Wales.  Apart from Wednesday even the weather was kind. The rain on Wednesday contributed to the enjoyment of rapids in a river next to the place where we were shown how coracles are made and used.  Many people think they are special to Wales, but we learnt that these small, flat bottomed boats covered in hide of various sort,s are known in many parts of the world, including Vietnam and India and amongst the Native Indians of U.S.A. If you know of any other places where they are used, please tell me in the comments. Our coach driver was very Welsh with a strong accent.  He kept training us to say Welsh place names, which was good, but I think I'll stick to Russian, even though I have to go further to use it. Our hotel was comfortable and the food good. It is good to get away but coming home is the very best thing.  There's no place like home.

I've just finished reading Dostoevsky's masterpiece.  I found it fascinating although I did not agree with all his conclusions.  I was surprised that Raskolnikov did not get the death penalty back in the 1800's.  Eight years in Siberia did not seem quite justice, but then I did not know what Siberia is like, until tonight.  I went to BBC iplayer to see if there were programmes about Russia and discovered one about prison life out in the wilds of Russia, probably Siberia, the exact location was not revealed.  It was a fascinating programme and tied in nicely with what i had read in the classic.  It always seems to me that the prison warders are also given a sentence although,of course, they clock off duty and go home to their families.  However, perhaps the whole family is kind of serving a sentence. Raskolnikov speaks of the woman he murdered as being a "louse." None of us has the right to judge another in that way.  From such thoughts come the ac...

Rushing and gushing The white water flows, Over the rocks, While the thundering grows Louder and louder. I can't hear you speak, As the mighty river travels down Hundreds of feet. Feel the mist in your hair And on your face, While the waterfall descends With consummate grace. I could stay here all day And be caught in wonder, My brain being numbed By the constant thunder. But turn away I must With a beautiful memory in time. Return to life from this bliss sublime. Gradually as we trek away the noise grows less, Saying "Come back soon O do say "Yes"."

I passed the 13+ and went to the Grammar School.  I cycled a mile each morning and then caught the bus to take me about ten miles to the school.  After a while a new music teacher came to our school and he wanted to start an orchestra. I was able to learn the violin.  We learnt in a group every dinner hour.  The teacher was very enthusiastic and it was catching. I put the same enthusiasm into violin playing as I now put into learning the Russian language.  If my teacher had known then that I would sell my violin to go on a Russian holiday he would not have been amused.  I have not played my violin for several years, to start with because of cataracts.  When thinking about if I wanted to play again I decided not.  It's not much fun to play on one's own and not practical as I live in flats.  Using a practice mute also makes the experience less enjoyable. I decided I do not want the stress of playing in a string quartet.  Keeping in the rig...

Now I have a computer, an iphone, a  tablet, a camera and a car, but what did I have as a child.  One of my favourite delights when it was raining was to go up the path to the coal shed.  Here the rain seeped under the top door and ran in a little rivulet down the dirt floor, through the shed.  I spent many hours making little dams with bits of wood and small pieces of coal, and deepening the bed of the "river" by scraping away the dirt floor.  That is the sort of amusement that gives you lots of time to contemplate about life and anything in general.  Down  the lane there was also a stream where I could walk up and down and walk under the bridge. There was some talk of polio but I survived.  Then there was the ancient yew tree which had branches low down and was easy to climb.  As a little girl of two I had been taught to stamp on the naughty berries, to keep me from eating one thus avoiding fatal consequences. Much of my childhood was spent...