Tuesday 24 December 2013

Christmas Dream

I must have fallen asleep. One of those dreams where you are not sure if you are awake or asleep ;and where you don't want to wake up.
The Christmas tree shone with lights and decorations, stars with Jesus Name hung down from the branches and lights changed colour changing the room to a different mood.
"Come on sleepy" she said "how about a nice mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows -your favourite"
Thank you I replied and smiled at her. My wife
"Libby and Luke will be here soon,they travelled back from college just to spend Christmas with mum and dad."
I must have looked surprised.
"Your children" she said
"But er but"
"Too late now you can't send them back -shop won't take them." She took my hands "and you big brave hero were there at the births. Now come and help me in the kitchen if everybody wants to eat."
She left and returned with my hot chocolate .It tasted real and delicious. It was neither too hot nor too cold.
Libby and Luke I thought. "I wonder what they look like. When you do not remember having children you do wonder what they looked like even in dreams,if this was a dream. I dreamed my way through food preparation until it was done .
"No ....Stephs voice came to me -"you were going to put chocolate sauce in the potatoes."
I smiled "but I thought innovation was part of cooking, culinary adventures and all that."
The door bell played Dixie and I went to answer it .
Carrying three bags and a guitar was a young man of over six feet tall.
"Dad ,you not recognise me ?" His broad smile and wide blue eyes welcomed me."
"You've grown" I said trying to sound parental or fatherly.
He gave me a big hug -"Love ya dad ."
"Love you too Luke" I replied and then I thought 'how did I father such a fine boy'
"I'll go and look for Mom."
I watched him go and thought dreams were such good things.
The house was lovely, beautifully decorated it encapsulated love from the harsh world outside.
I thought I had better no interrupt mother and son .
In my day dreaming in my dream the door bell went again,
I opened the door
"Hello daddy."
It must be Libby . Her green eyes sparkled with joy and a lock of red hair worked its way down over her forehead .This was December and the other part of summer had arrived. Next thing I knew her arms were round my neck and I was getting just the best hug ever. Sometimes love doesn't need to speak words . How could I have fathered someone so beautiful .Yet what shone from Libby also came from the inside as well as the out .
"Come in Sweetheart Luke's here thanks for coming for Christmas."
As she walked past me I could scent the beauty of flowers and her laughter was like a stream running over stones.
Heaven must have given her a day off.
We ate and I could taste everything. We walked together. First with Luke and he told me how he was doing and I think with every word I would have been honoured to have a son like that not just in a dream.
Then Libby threw snowballs at me and each one that landed was like a kiss. "Remember me she said
I live in your heart and we will meet for real one day. It works two ways you are the only daddy I have and I am proud of you."
I could feel her hand,it was so real and warm.
"I never had a dream like this before. "I told her
"You never loved like you do now she replied " We walked on
"I wonder what kind of a father I would have made?"
The same kind of a daughter I would have made. When you get to heaven and you see a carroty haired angel step out lets go for a walk in the hills and you can tell me all the things you would have if you had been my real father.
I took her hand and my heart in my dream filled with such happiness.
When we got to the house I sat down and felt sleepy and the last thing I heard was Libby's voice
"I love you -don't forget me."
Then I was back home and I heard the voice of the wife I love- maybe we both agreed the best is yet to come





Thursday 19 December 2013

Learning a new language

In just over a year we are going to visit the folks in Alabama and Texas .I have become conscious that I need to watch my spelling 'cause y'all spell things differently from us
The last letter in the English Alphabet is Zed to Brits and Zee to Americans -this is confusing
You have lines -these are punishment exercises we got at school for some misdemeanour to us. Imagine my surprise when I found they were what you waited in in a shop. We call these Queues and Brits are good at forming orderly queues. You have Gas we have petrol .I went into a petrol station in Alabama and asked to pay the petrol -the guy behind the counter looked at me as if I had Tamales growing out my ears .When I said Gas his face brightened with understanding. The station was BP (British Petroleum) I thought he would understand. I might as well have been up to the knees in Brandywine Creek .
You take tea cold -we take tea hot but at least we have in common that neither like warm tea .I now drink my tea as iced tea even in winter- my countrymen think I mad. "I like iced tea" I say  and they say to me "but you are not in Texas now." I reply but I need to keep my hand in at iced tea drinking should I move back there,
You have funny cookies  which we call biscuits .What y'all call biscuits we call scones. How on earth did ALUMINIUM (AL-U-MIN-IUM) become ALOOMINUM ? I doubt even if Ben Franklin could explain that . I walk on the pavement which you call side walk and I put things in the rear of my car which we call boot and you call trunk and the front of the car we call bonnet (as in Easter) you call it hood which to us is a gangster. The engine is in the gangster the luggage is in the trunk which itself can be luggage.
You have a Senate, which over here is the governing body of a university. You do have hot dogs and hamburgers . Now we too have these .We get ours in tins and jars and they are American because they have the "Stars and Stripes" on the jar or tin. We have Grits and Hershey's Chocolate Syrup and Fish and Chips.
When I get to USA my first buy will be a Dictionary by Merrriam Webster. I do not know who he was but I guess he must have disliked the Brits intensely to make so many differences . I am working hard at adjusting to color instead of colour and many other things. I shall persevere but the trouble is "you can fool some of the people some of the time and all of the people some the time but you can't fool all of the people all of the time." or as John Paul Jones said when he was doing his memoirs
"I have not yet begun to write - remember he came from Scotland so there is hope for me yet.

Thursday 12 December 2013

I'm here

This has been a hard year for us and for many. Hurt loss pain and economic pressure while politicians seem to spend money like water. People go hungry and many suffered horrors like the Philippines. Terrorism stalks the land under the guise of peace and sometimes you feel like screaming "Is anybody listening ????"
Then at Christmas time we have the reminder that One did listen, that God did care because the angels came to announce "Luke 2v10 Behold I bring you news of great joy which shall be for all the people for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord .The Son of God is here -Immanuel -God with us. Knowing this and holding to this it is like Jesus saying "I'm here." When Luke my stepson died at 37, it was the reassurance that Jesus is with us that helped us in our tears and what my wife Luke's mother felt I cannot begin to guess, Jesus was saying 'I'm here' and something would happen that would lift us. Even in the midst of  the stupid behaviour of politicians or the scare tactics of terror. Jesus says 'I'm here, peace be still" My God holds His people by love not by fear. I hope you hear his still small voice in your fear or worry or loss ."Peace I 'm here" and somehow He works as only Christ can .Broken hearts take time to mend and while others talk about methods of doing that, the Lord goes ahead and actually does something - sometimes you don't want words just a hug. All our hope centres on Jesus Christ but Christmas tells us "I'm here "and that light of the World that was born in the stable in Bethlehem has come into the darkness and not all the death ,terrorism, fear ,bullying or anything else will ever be able to put it out .Jsus says this Christmas
Don't be afraid I'M HERE ,trust me

Monday 18 November 2013

Time Travel Tram


Steph and I went to the Transport Museum in Glasgow and there much to my surprise was a Number 3 Tramcar. I used to go to school in this. From age 7-12 this was my daily mode of transport across the city . A walk to the stop and a walk back .We are talking 1957-1962 . I always went upstairs for the view was better .Until the day a drunk man came upstairs and assaulted me by hitting me across the face several times. I started to cry and it stirred four Glasgow wifies into action. Glasgow wifies in the 1950/60s were formidable if they were angered and hitting a child was a way of doing that. They did not dial 911. They also carried umbrellas -pointed 12 bore umbrellas which they used to great effect. They stabbed him as hard as they could -back legs neck, ears. There were cries of "ye dirty big scunner.ye drunken pig and the rest I will spare you .His feet did not touch the steps on the way down .The driver stopped the tram and they threw the guy off .The conductor or driver were not going to argue with fired up Glasgow wifies. Had any of them been facing him I could hazard a guess as to where the umbrellas would have been poked . My father was told and he would have killed the guy if he had found him. . These wifies were the match for the Marines or Spetznaz forces .
This was the first time I had been back on a tram in 52 years and it may have been that very
tram Don't let one bad incident in your life spoil the view God is capable of bringing good out of bad
 in ways we cannot imagine.There is no excuse for hitting 8 year old children round the face but back in those days justice was done quicker than it is now and hey no lawyers involved.
 

Thursday 10 October 2013

"Funny how time slips away"- Willie Nelson

I asked a friend if I could borrow his projector to photograph old slides and put them on the wall. I was excited at seeing events and places in my life from 20-40 years ago but what I had forgotten, slides deteriorate. The colours fade and what was sharp vibrant colour at the time, seems so bland and empty now. The sparkle the colour had gone, things had moved on "funny how time slips away."
I took the photo of Charles Lindbergh's 'Spirit of St Louis' in 1992 .I can still see it in the Smithsonian in Washington .It was a great achievement and in the film James Stewart gave a good performance of trying to stay awake. That was a long time ago and my photo of the plane had gone the way of the others.
In my time travel books The Scent of Time and The Scent of Home, the characters travel in time.
They go back to Gettysburg in 1863 when it was all too vibrant and Virginia in 1759 where it looks as though they might be stuck there . I some times think it would be nice to go with them.
As much as I enjoy time travel and writing about it and I hope people enjoy reading about it .You cannot live in the past .It is a shadow because God is not there.  He has left and when He leaves there is only the shadow of what was. He also lives in the present because He helps us to get to the future.. Maybe it would have been nice to live in 1759 -till the first time you needed a dentist .Or live in 1863 till you found you had diabetes. Lo said Jesus I am with you always even unto the end of the age. "Funny how time slips away."   

Monday 7 October 2013

The Eye of the Beholder

 
 
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet how often do we miss what is beautiful around us? We look at the pictures of film stars, perfectly exposed and air brushed -yet in real life they look a lot rougher than they appear in their perfect photographs. Maybe the exception to that rule was the late Audrey Hepburn, witness her popularity on fashion accessories even today.
How often do we miss what is before us because we have become used to it?
I spent 11 years in a beautiful glen in Perthshire called Glenshee .It was stunning scenery but by 11 years we had got used to it.
Then we moved to my next parish and when we got to the manse there, there were boards over the window to protect the glass. We looked through cracks and at the time on the TV there were scenes from Kosovo with houses boarded up just like ours. Day after day we thought of the lovely walk in the hills we had left and the scenery, to move to this? In the end we were able to see the beauty in our new place, a lot of which was in the people and the joy of it having a cricket team.
The picture above is like something out of the Beatles Sgt Pepper Album in fact it is oil on a pavement but if it is dealt with the right way and caught in the right light it can turn into something beautiful - bit like the way God looks at us.




Friday 27 September 2013

The Tryst of Trust


I very nearly lost my books on Kindle,and that only the paperback would be available. The thought of no more Kindles and having half  my market gone was depressing. Black Rose Writing my publisher gave us the opportunity to buy the e-rights to our book and get them published independent with KDP.
It was a worrying couple of days,but when I prayed about it the Lord laid on my heart to trust ,the publisher to sort things out,give it time .Today an e-mail came and it did get sorted and Black Rose Writing came out well on it .I was so glad I did not give up but waited on what the Lord said .
When you cannot see an answer it does NOT mean to say that God is not at work! He does not owe you or me a progress report nor does He have to give daily updates- He is God and He is working on our behalf. We have to make the decision to trust Him just as I had to trust my publisher to get the problem sorted out. In fact the Lord helped my publisher and got everything fixed and my Kindles are back on Amazon.
Faith is part of trust,we make a commitment to trust God before we see results or get updates.Then we can look back when the Lord answers and praise Him .Without faith it is impossible to please God and faith is the substance of things hoped for the promise of things not seen. A couple of days ago I had no Kindle books now they are back on sale.God had me trust Black Rose Writing my publisher. I can do no less when it comes to God Himself and He has never let me down .



Friday 6 September 2013

The heart song of the Robin

I had been feeling down and tired over the last few days.Today was my birthday so Steph and I went over to Inverewe Gardens, which are lovely and they even have palm trees in them (Yes all you Texas family Palm Trees in Scotland)
Well we were going through the gardens photographing flowers and trees here and there,then we heard beautiful singing form one of the trees and there the Robin was singing his little heart out to the Creator.
As I listenend the Lord spoke to me heart .
"Does the Robin sound afraid?" To which I replied "No Lord " Does he look worried and fearful" to which I replied "No Lord."
"He has to get food as you do. I provide for both of you.He has difficulties to face  but I protect both of you.
He needs a place to stay I give to both of you."  Then the Lord went through all the things I was worried about and you know I could not think of anything that He could not handle.
There was I churning over all this and there was the Robin on the tree singing his heart out to God,trusting that God would provide.The Robin was my messenger from God ,I hope he brings a message to you .  




Thursday 29 August 2013

Toucan do more than one can.

I am coming up in a few days to being a pastor for 31 years .The picture is a Toucan or it could be Twocan.
In my time in the ministry I have come across one common factor that is feared by everyone, some will admit to it and some will not. It is not death, it might be cancer or some illness (and there are still plenty about.)
Poverty is another big fear, not having enough money to pay the bills and getting told by people who are earning salaries that are only a dream to most of us to work harder and "go out and look for work".
Yet the common fear is none of these things although they do come second or third.
The big fear right across age, income, sex , and any other definition you can think of is LONELINESS.
Being alone through death illness (altzhiemmers). When your loved one is not there and you are going about the house calling to them and praying that it has all been a bad dream .
Dying alone, with the appearance of a harassed nurse in the room to see if you had gone yet.
 I have seen people die in road accidents (it won't happen to me)suicide, getting hit by cars or cancer or illness or pneumonia. Then there are those who are left .No  picture, card ,memento, big house or anything else can make up from a hug or kiss from that person, that has gone.
Nothing replaces two arms around you or the sound of THAT voice. Oh the callous ones who have never (yet )been through it say "They will get over it,life goes on. When it happend to me I can remember screaming , shouting and crying (but pastors are not supposed to do that.)
 What is the shortest verse in the Bible? It has two words in it JOHN 11 V35 Jesus wept . His friend Lazarus had died. Yet the same One who wept over Lazarus death was able to raise him from the dead . Yet Lazarus would have to die a second time.
I married again  a wonderful, loving lady whose husband had also died. We know that one of us will die before the other unless we are both taken . Yet the same One who brought us together will bring us together again in His Kingdom .Yes death stinks and is hellish, it entered the world because of sin .But one who came into the World said something that broke  the final power of death for good. It is in John 11 v 25 I am the Resurrection and the life and he who believes in Me though he die yet shall he live and whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die"
Stephanie and I are grateful for each minute of each hour of each day that we are together. We are to live and enjoy living -the rest is Gods department. Whether you are a man or woman you never tire of hearing your wife or husband say,"I love you " -when did you last say it? 


















Sunday 25 August 2013

Memories of the 'Disco Volante'

News -You only get one life on this earth,this is not a rehearsal but the real thing. How much do we let the expectations of others form or shape the things that we should be interested in? How much of what we would like to do really what we would like to do?
If I could own a boat it would be a Viking Longship, this boat in the picture would be number two in the list. How many remember "The Disco Volante" the beautiful ship from Ian Flemings James Bond adventure,"Thunderball"
'I could never get used to such luxury' and to have the chance to go where you wanted anywhere in the world and be able to outrun pirates. "It's Kingston tomorrow......" it is terrible to want things (outside of sin and breaking the law) that people think you should not have.
It is well known that doctors read medical books all the time and love visiting hospital wards and getting presents to do with medicine. Ah 'The Scent of the Ward '
Teachers of course should be reading while off  on holiday books about teaching and heroic examples of teachers who could work a twenty hour day and get by on three hours sleep.
One of my colleagues who was addressed by one of his flock in thew following terms
"Well I thought you being a minister would have wanted to go to......to read to see the programme tonight on inner city schools. There is the program about funerals."
Soldiers always want to see war pictures and combat situations and get presents to do with war ....well you would think they would.
 Dusty in PLANES  was told you are a crop hopper you should enjoy flying up and down in straight lines ....that is what you were made for ,that is the way people see you .In his heart Dusty wanted to be a racer and be the best he was made to be and not what other people told him he should be -the rest is a good film and a big lesson .
Listen up folks you only get ONE LIFE on earth. Don't let people mold you into their way, God put inside you what He wants you to be not what other people think you should be "after all you are a .....and you should be doing this and liking that .
God does not judge your wishes by whether other people approve of them or not -He can make the impossible possible.If you are an Eagle Chick brought up in an open topped chicken coop that does not make you a hen -be the eagle God put inside you while you still can .The sky is the limit.  

Thursday 22 August 2013

The Scent of the Past -The Call of the Future


These pictures were taken at the same time on a foggy beach. One photo on the left is like the past,it is where we have come from .There are things we remember and things we want to forget. There are those who want you to remember any things you have done wrong.They want to make their own 'penny arcade' light seem brighter by dimming yours. God promises that if we are sorry for the things we have done wrong and repent turn away from them He will not remember them . You see God looks at the heart, no human can see that and we can kid people by our words but only God sees the real heart -the real you -the you that you are when no one else is looking .The past has gone,you cannot change it but you can stop it from being a chain round your neck and letting others try to load you down.
The other picture was taken at the same time it was looking up the beach .There is still a mist because we do not know what the future holds .In my time traveling books 'The Scent of Time' and 'The Scent of Home' (Published by Black Rose Writing)the characters went to a lot of places in different times but the one place I did not send them was the future because what that is like is known only to God . The one difference between the two pictures is that there is a Lighthouse in the one on the right ,even in the midst of darkness as we head towards the future or the road is not obvious as long as we keep our eye on the light house we will get safely there whether on sea or land.
Jesus said "I am the Light of the World ,they who follow me will not walk in darkness but have the Light of
 life." We have to keep our eyes on the light and not look back,even though the future is unknown Jesus promises to open the way . God has one direction -Forwards.Let's follow Him.

Saturday 17 August 2013

Your dreams lie on the other side of summer

This is the "Balder" she came all the way from Norway. She is wooden clinker built and is a dream ship,the kind that meets you at the start of your dreams to take you somewhere good before you wake up.
Work starts again tomorrow and serving the Lord is why I am here.Maybe you are a teacher and going back to school taking a deep breath and wondering how you are going to mange for another year.
 Your dreams and your future  lie beyond summer as much as we would like to freeze it and relive it.
The future is not in the safe harbor of summer, but what lies beyond that .There is still autumn and then it is winter but it is not long into the New Year here before the days begin to stretch out and we are reminded that summer will come again and we will be one step or maybe several steps closer to our dreams.
When sailors in the sailing ships went out to sea, they did not know what the weather would do. They did know what to do, when the weather changed .They were aiming for a harbor where the crew could get back to their wives and sweethearts and invest their pay-off money.
Sea separates but it is also a highway .In my book "The Scent of Time" the hero's tea clipper goes from China to London in the tea race and all the adventures that take place.
It has been a wonderful summer as I look back all the photographs. The way to your dreams lies out there, my dream involves a very long journey with Stephanie but not quite yet.
I love to get lost in the Patrick O 'Brien sea stories of Jack Aubrey and Steven Matchurin  and round the corner is that dream still beckoning .....I am here I have not left you and your heart is on course trust Me .
The One on the bridge is Jesus...He does not promise a smooth journey but He does promise a safe landing.
Don't let anyone steal your dream or your vision .

Saturday 10 August 2013

Looking up.....looking out

Every year there is a military /historical show at Fort George near Inverness.Part of the show is an air display of a WW2 Spitfire and maybe a Messerschmit 109 or a North American Mustang. They race about the sky for about 25 minutes.It is fascinating .
People stop and look up when the Spitfire comes, golf ,running whatever, they stop and  stand and look up. Perhaps what tugs at the heart and longing is that the Spitfire and the Mustang come from a time when in the face of danger people were pulling and working together .We were facing the future together. "Blood ,sweat and tears." Churchill said.
In my books The Scent of Time and The Scent of Home and the being edited  The Scent of Eternity the time travelers face constant danger and have to decide who to trust ,but they have to work together and support one another.
Then the division started after peace,the carping, distrust and complaining. The desire to split society whether here or in USA We forget that the price of freedom is constant vigilance and as we divide ourselves apart,terrorism must be rubbing its hands with joy.
But when the Spitfire flew over head everyone united for short time in looking up. 
There is coming another day when everyone will look up .That day is when Jesus Christ returns.To those who love Him it will be a fantasic day to those who rejected Him it will be a day of final reckoning.
Look up He is coming back "The Son of man returns said Jesus at an hour when you least expect Him

Wednesday 31 July 2013

Love

Why do we find beautiful music so wonderful? Why do we read love stories? Why do we like romance movies and the ones where the hero saves the heroine or the girl saves the guy. Why is it that when we really listen to our hearts, it is love that tells us what is important? Why is it that when you love someone you would give away everything you have, to  just to be with them? The touch of a hand, a kiss, a look, a smile or am I just old fashioned? I remember  a story about a guy who tried to get a different woman each night -he was known as a great lover. Lover of what or whom? Sounds more like it was a lover of himself -his name was Casanova.
Love is forged ,sex can be instantaneous but love is forged. A sword is hammered into shape put into the fire,hammered more but the end product is a thing of beauty .With a Toledo blade you could bend the point of the sword to touch the hilt and it would not break or snap.
Nobody but you knows the joy you feel when you see your beloved if you have been away all day. Hours stretch into days and what you want is to get back and feel that person close.
Why are we so fond of reading about love? Why do we sigh and wish we could be in their shoes?Yet when that one person comes along being with them is your life.No matter what you have, love comes from the heart of God .
What will cause a guy  or girl to risk their lives in combat to rescue a buddy who has been injured? "Greater love has no man than this in that a man lay down his life for his friend" Jesus said .
Our life is like a one shot rifle. We have one shot ,one life we have to make it count, if we are going to fire it it had better be worth while.
I am loved by the Lord Jesus Christ. He has given me the most wonderful wife whom I love and who loves me.  Having been the recipient of such love  I can go, you can go ,we can go and show love to others.
PEOPLE WILL NOT CARE HOW MUCH YOU KNOW TILL THEY KNOW HOW MUCH YOU CARE . I have a cross the sight of which showed how much God loved ,and a wedding ring to show how much my wife and I love each other.
What will change people - the answer is love. Love is not love till you give it away.







Wednesday 24 July 2013

Win win situation

I was listening to friends who were talking about sending e-mails from their Kindle and Phone and all the wonders of technology .I saw guys and some ladies down at Channonry point toting £8-£9000 lenses. Lenses so good that they could see the fleas on the backs of the fleas on the backs of the Dolphins.
Big TV with a million stations. Beautiful houses, the tales of holidays. The wants that never go away.As one advertising company boasted "If you tell us what you don't want we will tell you why you need it" Holidays are good but they come to an end . Cars rust,gadgets break, you can't watch The History Channel forever.What do you do when "the new wears off the crystal chandeliers."  If only I could get this I would be happy.
You could throw the swans bread and they would eat it and they are never far from each other.They mate for life. They see each other and young get reared and they still have each other.
Perhaps I am getting on ,yet maybe not . I have firstly the Lord Jesus Christ He is vital.
I talk to Him every day. Then I have my wife Stephanie .I feel like that Swan as long as he sees his mate he is fine everything is beautiful . Stephanie is the joy of each day, she has given me a home.She inspired me to write The three Books The Scent of Time ,the Scent of Home and my Just completed The Scent of Eternity.
You are the wind beneath my wings - but I know I would be nothing without her.
I am sorry if you are bored in reading this and have heard it before, yet why should I apologize? Love comes from God .He has given the gift of human love between husband and wife but He has also given Himself in our hearts.
You may be trying to find out what is important or your wish list. Love is a terrible risky commitment , but I would not change my situation with the wife I have for anything ,each day is precious. Tomorrow I will see Stephanie and if I die tonight I will see Jesus -Hety I am in a win win situation thanks be to God  



Saturday 29 June 2013

I saw three ships come sailing in ......

These were taken at the extreme range of my camera lens. Three ships on three journeys.The sailing ship in the centre and right was by far the most interesting.I could picture her going to some really romantic places. It was like something out of my book "The Scent of Time" -except The Night Arrow has three masts not just two. Everytime I see a ship like that, there is a pull to travel -it is a good thing I married Stephanie who also has gypsy blood . The ship on the left is a research ship from Norway and on the right the boat that does short trips to look for Dolphins -it gets tossed about quite a bit.Three ships, three different journeys.
Life is like that God calls us to do different things and we cross the path of fellow followers of Jesus called to do something  to make a difference for the Master.I bet that if someone from the research ship fell over board they would be glad to be picked out of the water by the Dolphin Boat or someone from the big ship would be glad to be picked up by the sailing ship.Called to do different tasks for the same Master. 
I hate it when people cause division-"I serve God better than you but not quite as good as him." I am happy with my middle of the road stance -yet it is in the middle of the road you are most liable to get hit. 
Three journeys,the big research ship,the zippy Dolphin boat or the exotic dreamy Island 
 seeker . Which one are you?


Sunday 26 May 2013

A journey of 1000 miles begins with one step

For many years my first wife Kathy refused to go and visit places abroad, that included England."We should not give our money to foreign governments." I tried to persuade her that we needed to go because one day we might not be able. So I would read to her from Georges Simenon -Maigret. He painted a rough picture of Paris but he also like a good writer, spun a web that sparked curiosity. Not to do wrong things, but to see what places were like. In Simenon you could smell the cheese shops ,the flower sellers,the fruit shops and the boulangerie. Hear the musicians and the hum of conversation .The patron with the inevitable Gauloise hanging from his lips, and the Quai des Orfevres where Maigret had his office.It worked ,we went and she was enchanted with Paris,she became animated .We went to different places for five years abroad .Then WHAM she was too sick to go.We went to York then and Durham (I recommend both of these) then she was too sick to go anywhere but her family.
Folks you only have ONE life, this is it. Heaven is wonderful but the Lord expects you to be thankful for this life.This is not a rehearsal to polish up your act . You do not know what a day will bring .When we see one of these beautiful yachts  sliding off into the sunset ,Steph and I realize that we were born gypsies.Remember Lee Marvin ,"I was born under a wandering star..."
Folks do what you can now, do not sit at home as old men and women with a dream in your heart and the empty echo of "I wish I had done that .....now it's too late." We can be cautious but being too cautious can take all the joy of living .Next thing you will be leaving a pile of 'risk assessment forms on your bedside cabinet and filling one in before you get up in the morning . One day one of Kathy's tomorrows did not come, what about you ?









Saturday 18 May 2013

Je pense que......

Do you have a thinking place? The good thing about thinking places is that you do not have to actually be there -just think you are there.It is a place of peace -is it a sign of age that peace becomes more appealing.
Peace not in the sense of not doing anything,but inner peace when you can take time to walk with Jesus. This is my thinking place,the place to which I return even though I do not actually have to go there. The house is beautiful and the island is welcoming and soothing.There I can walk with the Lord, but the wonderful thing and big difference between my thinking place and walking with Jesus is that I do not have to imagine He is there ,I know He is. So in the midst of trouble there is peace, and He pushes fear and panic out. "Lo " He says "I am with you always,even unto the end of the age." My Island gives me peace when there is no pressure .My Jesus gives me peace in the midst of pressure.The difference between the two is stellar.

Saturday 4 May 2013

The Scent of Rome

There is something about Rome that cannot be put into words. It is like trying to describe all the things I love about my wife, yet were I to write them they would fall short of what I feel.
Rome is like A Siren calling .....when you stop what you are doing,you think of her.The famous buildings but the real Rome is like this street .It is a city where people live and love.Laugh and cry and make her what she is. The espresso, the bakeries .The smiling faces and the excited hand waving, the big heart and the beautiful people. Trying to describe Rome is like trying to say what your favorite color is in a mosaic.
One day I am back at the Colosseum, then the bridges and the senate square and ....and ... and.
It is the place,not where you can get lost ,but where you can lose yourself. Imagine Christmas in Rome,
I even sigh over street maps, and look at postcards and tourist books. If I had a wish that The Scent of Time and The Scent of Home could be translated into one language it would be Italian. Black Rose Writing my publisher does not do Italian yet . Yet I still cannot put it into words but often when I close my eyes and take a deep breath and smell coffee and perfume and the Scent of flowers it is the Scent of Rome. Arrive'derci

Saturday 27 April 2013

Rising to the Scent of Home

"My what a feeling to fly,over mountain and forest and trees
I can go anywhere that I please." Abba -Eagle.

How many of us in the midst of a gritty,tearful day,have looked up and watched an Eagle fly,glide soar over head .He catches a thermal and lets it do the work of lifting her high .The pigeon flaps,many times and never seems to get the distance. The hen flaps and never leaves the ground. The society we live in will pin us down,it doesn't like Eagles. She rises higher and higher and looks at the sun.

Thanks to Jesus ,one day we will soar up to be with God . Real freedom is the freedom to love and to love God who is love. Next time you feel trapped ,close your eyes and picture the Eagle soaring up high ,gliding past problems being where heshe was born to be.

In my new book 'The Scent of Home' Drew Faulkner is up to his neck in problems till he starts to look up and realizes for real only the Lord can help. Shifting his focus from the problem to the solution ,from the mud to the sky.
"..and I dream I'm an eagle and I dream I can spread my wings flying high.." God is still in the business of maKING dreams come true. Happy soaring.
 

Sunday 14 April 2013

"Commando"


The name of the "Commandos " struck fear into the soldiers of the Axis powers during World War II and their successors are fighting in Afghanistan today.
When they were formed in 1940.Britain had her back to the wall, Europe had been over run by the Nazi infestation and Churchill the British Prime Minister formed an elite force to strike back into occupied Europe and the later the Far East .

The training was the toughest possible and the guys had to pass all the sections or they had to go back to their units. The memorial is at Spean Bridge and the wild country round about was their training ground. They often went on op's knowing they would not return. So feared were they that Hitler ordered that any commandos caught were to be shot out of hand .They only one who refused to do this was Erwin Rommel who knew courage when he saw it and knew good soldiers when he met them .
Their motto was "United we Conquer" and they built up strong bonds of support and friendship.All the Commandos I have met have been tough,stalky characters who looked as though they could do serious damage with the 'Sykes -Fairbairn' knife.

My character RSM Angus McTurk (from my book The Scent of Time and soon to be published sequel The Scent of Home ) is based on aCommando .

There they stand and it is good that we have memorials to courage not just to remember those who died in World War II but those of the British and United States forces who have paid the supreme price so that we can be free Freedom both internal and external is very costly, these guys stand at Spean Bridge to remind us of that .

Sunday 7 April 2013

Wingman

It must be wonderful to be able to fly one of these. I spoke to a WW2 Mustang (on right) pilot who had covered the North Sea .He said it was so hard to settle down to a desk job after flying one of these.
One key factor was your 'wing man', the guy and /or now girl who flew beside you. They had your back, you could concentrate on what lay ahead. It must have been a great comfort when you saw the enemy to know that someone was flying with you. Who remembers the picture protrayed in the Abba song 'Eagle'

It is not just in aircraft but we have folk who back us up in life.That rare handful of folk who stick by you no matter what.Those you can count on the fingers of one hand .The platinum people. Yet how often do we thank our wingman for flying with us, for being there when the storm comes or the flak starts flying ?

My dad told me that poeple like that in your life you can count on the fingers of one hand if you are blessed .The old man was dead right .Have you appreciated your wingmen? Good old Bob ,good old Susan -just imagine if they were not there. Appreciate them while you can.

I married my wing woman ,but there is One who is even greater ,The One who sticks closer than a brother -Jesus Christ .He promised 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.' He is impervious to flak
and covers you (Psalm 91). One thing the devil will not mess with that wing man.


Saturday 30 March 2013

The Other Side

                                                               Easter
Easter reminds us that Christ by His resurrection from the dead has opened the way to God for us.
It was an impassible wall before.There was no way over,no way under ,it had to be through -death.
Jesus by dying in our place has opened the door to the Kingdom of God, but most of all to life with Him ."Behold I stand at the door and knock and if anyone hears My voice and opens the door,I will come into him and dine with him and he with Me." -Revelation 3 v20.
The door in the picture had a handle on both sides,the door of your heart of which Jesus speaks only has one handle -and only you can open it .Jesus is knocking,will you open the door and let Him in?
                                A HAPPY EASTER-CHRIST IS RISEN

Monday 25 March 2013

Viya con dios

This has been a sad couple of weeks,where the word 'goodbye' has sought to come to the fore. Either through the death of friends or the fears of friends who may have to say goodbye to someone they love. Then there is the sad realization that in some cases people come into your life 'for a season,and that season is drawing to an end and you feel for them.
I am reminded of the film about the director who wanted to make a serious drama about prison life. He made it more realistic by getting himself put in a chain gang, he would get the real McCoy.

The trouble was the people he was with got to him, when he heard all their stories and in the end he made cartoons because what could help the folk who were down the most was laughter.

I like this picture of part of Loch Leven priory, because the archway in it looks like a 'time portal.' People have gone through but none have come back. Are there not 'time portal times,' in your life where you wish you could undo what you said or did? Or just one last look .

Why is it that all the gentle kind people in your life pass on ,while the vicious, nasty 'toxic' people seem to glory on? They do not care what they say or who they hurt in the process, feelings mean nothing and because they say it, it must be right. Encouragement is something they do not give except if it is about them and their family. 
The gentle kind people who have come and gone knew the Lord Jesus, the toxic people did not, they may have the words but not the Spirit.
It is going to be nice to see the gentle kind people who have died again,and as for the toxic people the choice is in their hands -will they listen? Only eternity will tell.
In Mexico they have a word for 'goodbye' -adios. They also have another phrase that you can say
"Viya con dios" go with God
If you are hurting  through loss or having to say goodbye, may the Lord hold you close
Viya con dios .




Monday 18 March 2013

Romancing Roma



                                                                      Romancing Roma
She sits on my mind like a haven from the pressures of modern life, do, do, do’ we are told, yet how to get off the treadmill? Maybe just how to rest and put the brakes on my mind to stop and look and think?
 After recovering from illness I was in Rome for three days, looking for confidence. Was I healed? Would travel be part of my life again? Then Rome smiled, opened her arms and welcomed me in as if I had been the only one there.”I am here,” she said to my heart, “Just for you.”
 Thousands of eager hearts and hardy feet journey to Rome, yet I did not know what a Pre-Raphaelite picture would be  painted on my mind, painted with subtle, rich, brush strokes that sought to captivatingly capture every  aspect of the beauty and history of my hostess. 
That was three years ago, yet today I was in Rome, and it was summer, even though outside of my window, a numbing cold mist blew and I could see with my eyes, the very antithesis of what   I could see with my heart.  The birds were singing in the Borghese Park and   lovers walked hand in hand, lost in the fathomless pools of each other’s eyes, their sighs and longings mingling   into a musical score of as yet unfulfilled love.
The traffic was noisy, but it was a happy noise of achievement, in getting from one place to another. Vespa’s weaved their helmeted way between the stylish cars. In direct contrast to such elegance there came the gentle trotting of a horse buggy as the trusted steed pulled its load of swivel necked tourists. The horse having seen it all before, his interests were the practicalities of food and rest to come
In Trastavere District, the houses fit like a jigsaw, colours warm and welcoming as if each wall had absorbed the sun for a different reason, this is where life is .The walls of the Byzantine Church, gold mosaic shimmering in the sunlight as you looked and took in her shining history. These buildings were made to last, along with a people whose willingness was to make sure that hope was brought about for each generation.
Out in the streets, standpipes slaked the thirst of happily weary tourists and Cafés sent out the scent of Espresso, into the waiting population. Bakers filled their windows with a cornucopia of delicious temptations, sent down from Heaven that morning .Market stalls sold bags, knitwear, and unknown mysterious objects of daily life there which I, as only a visitor was not made party to.
Over a bridge, (any bridge, they all have a story to tell which they will relate for free to those who will stop and listen to their age old tale.) across the flowing liquid history of the Tiber. I stood and looked at the swirling water, would I have the courage of a Horatius to jump in and hope I would be rescued and picked up by the eager waiting hands of fellow citizens  upon  the other bank.  Up past the heights of the Mausoleum of Hadrian and looking up to the brightness of St. Peters, where so many events in history had had their conception.
 Stop, look, think and listen. Sit under a welcoming   tree and watch the Romans go by, the same faces but different attire as those who flocked to the offices and markets, houses and palaces of the Rome of the Caesars
I went into St Peter’s along with many others and when I stopped and looked around I started to cry as I had done three years ago. The sunlight playing off the diamonds of my tears, as reality and history came in equal proportions, sometimes in focus and sometimes out. 
 I stood to text my friend, a lifelong lover of Rome. Her descriptions had got me here, yet even she whose verbal portraits of walks round the Eternal City, had thrilled my heart so much, even she had understated the beauty that surrounded me. I mentally thanked her and blessed her verbal persuasion that put me here, to drink in the rich wine of the majesty, and towering beauty of Michael Angelo’s vision. After uttering a heartfelt prayer I went out into the street, and Rome welcomed me back with her knowing smile.
Queues were forming at that witness to the truth of history, Coliseum, whether it was for a first time experience of that wonder or going there for the tenth time, it never loses its jaw dropping sense of awe. It has survived everything the ages could throw at it . Up to my seat and in my vision within a vision, I was Marcus Ulpius, commander of the XII Legion ,coming back to Rome to see the beautiful Devorgilla. It had been a long journey, no time for rest my journey had been sustained by seeing her blue eyes again and holding her in my arms ,Then due to the ravages of time ,the road to her box had been blocked off…….how would I find her? Then with a sigh I realised she had long turned to dust.
Coming back down to earth or the sand of the arena, as   the echoes of the ringing, shining swords of Gladiators brought the crowd to their feet .What did these high born ladies see in a Gladiator anyway? Then I could hear the city say, ”This is Rome , there is love and life is short .”
  Past the white marble Arch of Constantine, he who had taken the Empire out of the Sun to follow the Son.  I thought, one camera card and I could photograph the faces that made history – how much would I be expecting Hollywood look alike? Perhaps history was kind in letting the famous sons and daughters of Roma be seen only in stone, examples of the ageless perfection of the sculptor’s art
Now instead of perfection, the Arch is patrolled by its gaggle of mock Roman Legionaries and Centurions, seeking pretty wide eyed tourists to put an arm around and be seen in pictures that will end up being shown thousands of miles away in Moscow or Brisbane or Hawaii. Maybe if I walk through the arch I will time travel, and see it all for real…”sometimes son”, my mother said, “expectation is better than realisation.”
 Across the busy corso , to the start of the Forum. When I get to the other side of the road during a sanity break in the traffic, a sleek ice blue two- seater draws up, the kind of car that inhabits your dreams and beckons knowing there is an impassable gulf between you and she. The dream parks by the road. He gets out, tall and imperious, not a hair or thread out of place making a film star look like a street sweeper. She, his Beatrice decanting her lovely presence from the car, eyes sparkling and lips smiling at her beau. Honey blonde hair cascading down the sides of her face, as if every hair had been allocated its position in some prearranged conference. The old men passing look at her and sigh and the young men look in wide eyed wonder thinking, thinking, and thinking, “I had only touched the outer courts of the Temple of love till this day.”  In their hearts, fall at her feet , willing servants for but one smile .
In my mind’s eye I started the walk that would lead to the Senate House, real decisions were made that shook the known world, and around which  Caesars movers and shakers congregated intent on deals, business ventures and taking risks just like their modern counterparts. Untold wealth, or death poverty and ruin, would your ships come home or be lying at the bottom of the sea? Where ship and cargo were  slowly being coral covered with the passing years until the day when aqua lunged seekers would bring their captivating  cargo back up into the sunlight to dazzle and excite a new generation .
How did they manage with only an abacus and without the Internet or computers? Somehow thoughts of business ventures were not as romantic as history or the depth of unrequited love. A group of tourist following their guide and wondering how history in this most interesting of cities could be so uninteresting. My hostess is hurt, “Rome is many thing” she hints, “but never boring.” 
Round Augustus and Livia’s house – He the first Emperor, she the power behind the throne. The palaces come in a rich profusion of styles and colours and history .Nature is taking some of its territory back, introducing vibrant living colour in place of the fading hues of  past generations. Happily shy birds make their invisible song part of the picture that imprints itself on the mind of the traveller. What would I have been if I had lived then? What would I have done? How different it was then, yet were their dreams so different from ours, and did hope still spring eternal in the Roman breast?
Feet crunching on the gravel and walking on the road where history walked. Going over the paving stones on the via Sacra. So many came and did not know that they would leave their mark in that history. Peter, Paul messengers of the Christ who would change history forever. 
Past the place where Mark Anthony gave the funeral oration, when mighty Caesar fell. That spot even hallowed today by blue flowers placed in memory of the long dead Julius. In our antiseptic, clinically, clean, cities everything seems cut and dried . This is your lot, tow the line, die a nonentity in a world where individuality is as varied as the taste of supermarket bread. Today if we were to cross the Rubicon like Caesar, we would ask for a risk assessment first.
I thought back to Beatrice, in Latin her name means ‘she who makes happy’ what was in her heart? What did she really want? To be loved or listened to? To be needed? Or to find someone who could look below the beautiful outer layer to the heart beating and pumping the rich red blood of hope and dreams. Those hopes and dreams, which when the bloom of youth had faded , would cause her to look at her life and say” I am content.” Mixing her sighs with the sighs and hopes of others in this magical city.  ‘Carpe diem’- seize the day, tomorrow may never come. 
Today each time we part my wife and I part with a kiss, I want the last words she hears from me to be “I love you.” What of the Romans, when parting could be for months or years? Saying goodbye at the port, “I will be back in the spring, my love it will soon pass.” Smiles of reassurance  that neither feel. “Only 90 days and we will be back together. Ninety long, leaden, loathsome, lingering days without her.  Only those who have been in love know the pain .Ninety days, how quickly said –how painfully lived. Back to the house once filled with life but now as dead as yesterday’s dreams, a lonely couch and salty tears.

Bottled water and the cool of the senate house, remembering the speeches that were made there that had effects throughout the known world, yet so much of the world was unknown.   Poppies pushing their rich red petals out into the sun in a place where so much blood was shed, as one dictator after another came and went the way of all flesh. 
The painted frescos of the senate, and the old echoes of long dead Roman history makers, history makers whose subtle Latin turns of phrase would be lost in the  present day seeds of humanity that were planted by them .People with petitions milling round the Senate building .Seeking to catch the right eye, that has not unromantically changed.  The voice of Caesars wife,  “don’t go to the Senate today…I have had a dream.”  Casca and Cassius make their way up the steep Senate steps while an ambition blinded Caesar walks through the Senate doors to death and immortality.
Even in your mind’s eye you get hungry and thoughts of food come to the fore, the hands of urgent practicality placing the pictures of long ago events back in the history book.
Coffee and cake ‘al fresco’ as you sigh with relief ,even in a daydream as you remember the scent of double espresso and a pastry filled with orange and custard , and  blood flows back into wearied feet.  In the café, all humanity is there . She too has coffe and cake as she draws a picture of the young man two tables down. He ,lost in a book, brows slightly knit. Her pencil flashes over the pad giving it  life. Gradually his likeness appears, no line is waisted. He must do this often for he reaches out and locates his coffee by touch, so intent on what he is reading. I wonder if she will tell him or show him the sketch. Will she take it home to her easel and flesh it out? If she does not talk to him she can imagine him to be just the way she wants him. Gentle reader, you are waiting to find out what happened, but this is Rome, the most romantic city on earth. She gathers up her pad after having extracted the drawing and as she passes his table stumbles and lets the pad fall, and it lands at his feet. When I left the café ,she was sitting at his table drinking coffee (it did not matter if she had just had some )her head on one hand ,eyes wide open and smiling and he looking at her drawing with a great deal of approval. My hostess says,” Even in Rome, love is like a flower it has to be planted before it can grow.”
This is the city for the lover, the artist and the poet. Modern days are not allowed to intrude, on the romance of the place. Each comes to Rome expecting something different, something that will touch the spirit. Even the ugliest can be beautiful in Rome. Rome gives them dreams and brings to the surface the poet in everyone, even those who love from afar. She casts Lotus Eater eyes over her visitors, and the hurtful is hidden.
The Spanish Steps, what a place for intrigue. Maybe the cameras were not just taking pictures of the scenery? The spy and Rome what a combination, trying to elude the ‘heavies’ in the crowd and there were some ‘heavies’ in the crowd working their way towards me .What information did they have? Were they from Oleg and what of Miss Veronese?
My heavies had nothing else to sell but postcards of various views , then one tries to sell me a genuine gold watch ,only 40 euro’s. Armani jackets, ‘I ‘ave this friend, he know Senior Armani personally, for you a low price.” Only the items have changed since Roman days.
Two children trying to jump up the steps and to dodge through the crowds. Mother trying to keep an eye on them, father is off buying ice cream. I wonder what they are thinking? Is this their first time here? What to tell their friends. I hoped it was not an educational trip. Maybe some children just want to enjoy things- we did, remember?
 What a seething mass of humanity, each with a story to tell. The elderly lived in face, harassed by experience. He is recounting his memoirs of “Il Duce” and what it was like then. “You youngsters do not know you are living.” I wait to see if he will mention that at least the trains ran on time –I feel disappointed that mention of that wonderful achievement is left out.
Then comes the night, and the scene changes, Tavernae and Cafes kick start into life. Hazardous candles and oil lamps on the wall, sun baked tiles, become a rainbow of colours as flames flicker across them.  Exotic names and menus appear in time for the nightly ‘Passeggiata’ when Rome comes alive. 
In the old buildings of Trastavere, diners out at tables in the street take everything in. Waitresses, spin and pirouette like ballet dancers between the tables. Nothing is spilled and nothing is dropped, nothing to spoil the scene. Just out of sight there is live music ,romantic Roman rhapsodies fill the night air. A glass of Chianti and hands reach across tables first brushing accidently on purpose and then eagerly entwined fingers , speak volumes inplace of the yet unspoken words.
Ragazzi (girls) ,like beautiful moths head towards the music , blinking, their dresses of flowing colours shimmering in the evening light .Sometimes in twos and sometimes with guys in their coolest casual clothing . One girl is singing to her boyfriend, she has a captivating voice and at once I am held spellbound as she shimmers past ,his eyes in rapt attention to her loveliness . Did the Romans of Caesar do something like this? They could not have looked like this .One guy smiles at the girl on his arm and the light of a firelamp reflects off his eyes and the white of his perfect teeth.
Friends ,acknowledge friends at tables or in passing and one hardy soul has his scooter and steering with his knees he seeks to play a lute(no do not ask me how he does it ,but this is Rome ) as he steers down the thronged passage of people. 
Others sit by the fountain in the square, wrapped in their own dreams, arms round each other. I ask myself do Romans do anything else but love and eat or is the one a necessity for being occupied in the other? Carpe Diem –seize the day for life is short. 
When the passegiata ends then there is bed. “When you come back, my hostess city says to me .”When you come back to Rome, maybe you will not be alone .You will come back,they always do , then you can have the renewed adventure of exploration, with a hand holding yours.” A gentle breeze caresses my cheek, “Buona notte, fino l’indomani –sleep well until the next time.”