Reflections on something glorious

 When I last wrote, I was on the eve of an adventure of a lifetime. The anticipation of returning to a place that I hold dear in my heart and the thrilling thought of seeing new places that have only lived in my imagination, fuelled my enjoyment of preparation. This adventure was fanning the embers of excitement and delight that had long lain dormant within me; there is a purity of joy that comes with feeling free, being curious, and beholding beauty.

Childlike energy, fascination and wonder are hard to capture as an adult. The inevitable progression of growing up is taking responsibility and handling life pressures. Throw on top of that, other peoples expectations and circumstances you never planned for can make for heavy life loads that steal your joy and put you on the treadmill of mundane but necessary adulting. This is a reality of being an adult, but it doesn’t mean circuit breakers aren’t possible. I’ve come to appreciate that being intentional about making space for time to play, is an essential tool in the kit of enjoying the life that God has given me to live. 

It was on our first day in London that I first had the experience of having my breath taken away. I had roused myself from resting under the cool shade of trees in St James Park, to accompany my family to evensong at Westminster Cathedral. I had no preconception of what to expect; but walking in the door and lifting my gaze, I was instantly awestruck by the majesty of the place. Its beauty was like nothing I had ever seen before, transporting me out of the ordinary into a place far beyond my daily reality. 

Everything about the experience made me think of heaven; the place in which God dwells. When evensong began, and the pure angelic voices of the choir rose to fill the space of this magnificent church, my daughter leaned over to me and whispered, “I feel like I’m being taken up into heaven.” For the next hour I was completely enthralled by the wonder and beauty of this time and space.  

The second was St Paul’s Cathedral. Within this church I encountered a number of things that caused me to pause, be still before God and contemplate things on my heart. As I walked in its grand doorway there was a discreet memorial for all those who lost their lives due to the Covid Pandemic. This visual reminder gave me reason to pause, for while I didn’t have the heartbreak of loosing a loved one due to the covid virus, the covid years were full of challenge and the past 2 years have been punctuated by the deepest grief. These thoughts naturally resurfaced, as I entered this beautiful church.

This grand place with its vast domed ceiling adorned with golden flecked mosaics depicting many familiar biblical scenes, become a space of quite contemplation with God. While my family went on to climb the dome (something I was very happy to forgo due to my phobia of heights), I found myself a quite nook seated before the painting ‘The light of the world’ by William Hunt. Its beauty lies in the simplicity of its message…Jesus, the light of the world stands at the door and knocks. I was gifted time and space to sit, reflect and be truely grateful for who Jesus is to me.  

Delight and awe didn’t just come in beautiful buildings made to bring glory to God. They came also in nature and in people. In London I was reunited with a dear friend that I’ve stayed in contact with, but hadn’t seen in over 12 years. A day with her was so special; I valued every moment. It was a family highlight to reconnect with a place and people who have been apart of our families history. 

As for nature, swimming at dusk, in the Gulf of Naples, with Mt Vesuvius in the distance, was a pinch me moment. Being buoyed along in the salty clear, cool water with not a care in the world was a peak experience, that even now seems surreal. I can still see the fairy lights twinkling high above me from the restaurant perched precariously on the cliff top above. I can recall the burn in my legs as I traversed through the cool steep tunnels carved through the rock, to make safe passage to the water below. I can still feel the impression of my face smiling as I watched my husband and children share in the delight of swimming as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. 

These experiences are all positive imprints that have imbedded themselves in my psyche; memories that leave indelible marks. I am in someway changed by them, for the experience has in a small way achieved what I hoped it would. Taken me outside of myself and reminded me that play and awe and unexpected beauty can still be experienced no matter what age or stage of life I am at, and these things are all good gifts from my Heavenly Father. 

PS: It was noteworthy that while out of my usual routines and environments I experienced relatively no pain, and only the tiredness that comes from an entire day of walking as opposed to my usual crippling fatigue even after a good nights sleep. Conclusion, times like these do me good.