Watching the Sun set over the Mediterranean Sea was spellbinding. The glowing globe grew as it approached the horizon, and the thick atmosphere screened enough of the light so we could watch the Sun without being dazzled or blinded. Distant mountains were merged into the mist, vague shadows of deeper darkness.
Then, as the Sun kissed the mountain tops, wispy clouds were etched as dark shapes against the Sun. We could make out only the outline of the drama of the eternal cycle of Day and Night- and within minutes, the Sun had vanished, leaving only the embers of a perfect day.
Sometimes our faith-journey is a story of shapes against the sun. We can make out the highlights and the drama of key moments- but we have to move on, trusting that the play has a script that God has written, and that our part may be as a…
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You see this leaf? It’s floating in the bird bath and making an intriguing pattern. Subtle colours and muted tones suit its retired status. The only thing left for the oak leaves is making leaf mould. But for now it makes a nice photo.


To stay strong, the tree sheds its leaves: it lets go of the growth that would endanger survival. Fully leaf-clad, the tree would be far more vulnerable to strong winds or heavy snowfall.

