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faithbook     A message for quiet meditation

by JAN FARROW, Lay Reader at Holy Epiphany

 

 

As usual I can’t help but say, isn’t it wonderful to see the magnolias, and at last my cherry tree is out; it always fills me with such joy. The bluebells are also now appearing, and interestingly I see they are a symbol of constancy, humility, gratitude and everlasting love. I can certainly testify to their constancy; they and the wild garlic are getting ready for their usual battle to take over the bottom of the garden.

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May is often the month when everything seems to finally wake up, I have seen gambolling lambs, greenery bursting forth, and even some prolonged sunshine - we shall soon be praying for rain! Last month I talked about change: losing an hour with the clocks going forward, and then Easter being the biggest disruptor of all as far as Jesus’ followers were concerned.

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May is undoubtedly the season of change and growth, and maybe a good time to ask: what am I growing, what am I nurturing? Jesus often spoke about seeds, soil, and fruit. He knew that what we plant - and what we allow to grow - shapes the kind of people we become. Whether we realise it or not, we are always tending something. Maybe, like me, it’s a habit of worry that we are feeding more than we mean to. Perhaps its kindness that’s quietly taking root. Maybe its prayer, that needs a little sun and space again.

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Jesus says: ‘I am the vine, you are the branches. Abide in me and you will bear much fruit.’ It’s a wonderful reminder that we are not left to grow in our own strength. We are an Easter people, celebrating new life, the life of the risen Christ. That new life is ready to nourish and renew us, if we make space for it.

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So this May, as you pass a garden gate, or catch the scent of lilac on the breeze, take a moment to ask: what am I nurturing? What needs tending in me? What needs pruning - or planting?

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Above all, remember God is a patient gardener. New life often begins unseen, in quiet corners. But with a little light and care, and a willingness to let grace do its work, something beautiful may grow.

 

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