AUTUMNAL HUES

 

 MELTING SHADES

 

The summer-flower has run to seed

And yellow is the woodland bough ;

And every leaf of bush and weed

Is tipt with Autumn's pencil now.

The woodbine- trees red berries bear,

That clustering hang upon the bower ;

While, fondly lingering here and there,

Peeps out a timid dwindling flower.

Beneath a yellow fading tree,

As red sun light thee, Autumn- morn,

In wildest rapture let me see

The sweets that most thy charms adorn.

O while my eye the landscape views,

What countless beauties are display'd,

What varied tints of nameless hues, -

Shades endless melting into shade.

John Clare (from 'Autumn')

DOON LAKE, BROADFORD

JULY EVENING

A cold pasta meal

By this windswept lake

Deep in county Clare,

Fingers nipped

In unseasonable cold -

Scurry back to car

And window sealed warmth,

Sipping hot tea.

Settling after chocolate 

To write these lines 

Of record...

Gerard O'Shea

CHAINED TO CHRIST

NEVER AS FREE

"A wealthy man, a southern land owner went to a slave market. Upon arriving, he noticed a young African-American man being auctioned off to the highest bidder. He bid on the young man and won. The land-owner noticed the anger sparked in the slave's dark eyes. No doubt the young man wondered how badly he would be abused at the hands of this new owner.

As the wealthy man walked off with his new 'slave', he turned to the young man and said, "You're free."

The slave looked at him in surprise. "What? What do you mean?"

"I said you're free."

Puzzling this unexpected announcement, the young man's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Does that mean I can say and do whatever I want?"

The land owner smiled. "Yes, of course."

"Can I be whatever I want to be?"

"Yes."

"Can I go wherever I want to go?"

Smiling again, the older man replied, "Of course."

Tears began to fill the young man's dark eyes. "Then I think I'll go with you."

Isn't that a beautiful picture of Christ? He bought us with an invaluably high price. And once He bought us, He set us free. Who better to stay with than the One who loved us enough to give us a choice!

You see, I am a slave for Christ. Joyfully free, but choosing to follow the One who gave me my freedom. There are some amazing things about being chained to my Saviour:

 
1. I am His. I am joined with Him in all things. We live together, we die together. He is with me every step of my journey. (Galatians 2:20)
2. When I feel like I'm struggling, the Lord lifts me up. (Romans 14:4)
3. I am one of the secret keepers of God. He reveals mysteries that the rest of the world is dying to discover. (I Corinthians 4:1)There are so many other beautiful gifts to being chained to Christ. But I know this: since being His slave, I have never felt more free.

Tara Johnson from ‘Christianity Without Religion’

DEATH OF PHYLLIS DOHERTY

 Phyllis Doherty

1926 ~ 2012

I know the Lord is always with me.
    I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.

 No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice.
    My body rests in safety. For you will not leave my soul among the dead
    or allow your holy one to rot in the grave. You will show me the way of life,
    granting me the joy of your presence
    and the pleasures of living with you forever.

Psalm 16:8 ~ 11 

A RACE WELL RUN

 There were emotions of sadness and joy yesterday at the Baptist Church in Limerick as a capacity crowd gathered together to celebrate the life and witness of  Phyllis Doherty from Adare.Phyllis passed away to her eternal reward after a short illness and a long life dedicated to her Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

 I remember her from my years in Mallow Street Hall Christian fellowship where she faithfully worshipped and served and in the words of Peter Child’s  ( Church Elder) became an unofficial Elder in the little assembly.

 My abiding memory of Phyllis was on my visits to Graigue farm in Adare where she lived with husband Bill and a houseful of children ( 7 in all I think). As a young Believer I was often a guest there, where Bill supplied the lively conversation while Phyllis always lavished the table with irresistibly wholesome fare. As her daughter Jean recalled at the Service of Thanksgiving, her mother loved people and always kept an open house for visitors. Only occasionally did she deviate from her welcoming persona, like the night a couple rang from Limerick and more or less  demanded to visit, at 10 pm ! Even though the family had retired to bed it was all hands on deck and a slightly forced smile of welcome greeted their nocturnal visitors. 

Her marriage to Bill was recalled as an enduring love affair. From an early age Bill had his eye on her but propriety demanded that he would wait until she was 21 to formally ask her out. They suited each other well and worked together to raise a family and become involved in a wide variety of work for the Lord, Jean, her daughter revealed to the congregation that Bill tenderly referred to Phyllis as his ‘Peach’

.The Gideons International was an organisation that she became hugely involved with and her passion for the placement of Bibles in Nursing Homes and hospitals remained right up to the end of her life. Her son Hughie recalled this story that summed up her zeal for the sharing of God’s Word. While in hospital Phyllis told one of  the family that there was a box of Testaments under the stairs at home and she wanted them brought in to give to the doctors and nurses who were looking after her. The New Testaments were duly brought to the hospital but sadly she had slipped away, the family fulfilled their mothers wishes and distributed the books amongst the staff. It was my personal privilege to have known her and  to attend this Service of Thanksgiving for a saint of God who had run the race well and is now enjoying the presence of her Lord in glory. May her life and example inspire all who walk the pilgrim path to keep on keeping on and endure to the very end.

Gerard O'Shea

CURRAGOUR FALLS

 The Falls at Curragour looking very placid under a bright October sun.
 

 ON THE ROCKS

" Near and more near, he heard the roar 

 Of rock impeded Curragour ?

 Whose boiling torrent's headlong sway, 

 Howl'd like a tiger for his prey."

 ( from 'The Story of Drunken Thady' by Michael Hogan)

TELL TALE SIGN

"Every poet and musician, but for Grace,

 is drawn away from love of the thing he tells,

 to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell,

 they cannot be interested in God at all

but only in what they say about Him." 

C S Lewis

TAKING THE PATH

 THE GATE

No one compels you, traveller;
this road or that road, make your choice!
Dust or mud, heat or cold,
fellowship or solitude,
foul weather or a fairer sky,
the choice is yours as you go by!

But here if you would take this path
there is a gate whose latch is love,
whose key is single and which swings
upon the hinge of faithfulness,

and none can mock, who seeks this way
the king we worship shamelessly.
If you would enter, traveller,
Into this city fair and wide,
it is forever and you leave
all trappings of the self outside. 

Jane Tyson Clement (1931 ~ 1991)