Awe. I don’t know how to speak about this place yet. I’ve been flung back in to time and I’m very much in the present. It seems to be a place of contrasts. I’m walking the paths of the Ancients and I’m traveling the road with people from all over the world. The pastures are laid out soft and green, the shores are rugged and rough. The sky is ever changing. Sometimes it’s every shade of grey you can imagine, other times it’s beautifully blue with fluffy clouds. Sometimes it rains and then right after, the sun shines. Today when I went for a walk after evening worship, the beauty of the darkening sky made me want to be a painter. Worship can be filled with joy and it can be filled with sadness. There is time for community sharing and there is time for reflection. I don’t know exactly what this place means for me yet. But whatever it is, it’s beautiful.
How can I put into words the beauty of worshipping in a medieval abbey in a contemporary way? Or the feeling of warmth in the candlelit dining hall on the rainy evening when we arrived? Or the sunlight casting shadows through the arches of the cloister? How can I explain the sound of the rushing wind, through reeves and grasses, across sheep-shorn meadows…so loud I thought my ears would surely be ringing when it was quiet again? I wish I could capture the sound of the wind howling across the flat open spaces. There’s the shimmering sunlight on the sea and the crashing waves up on the rocks and the golfer playing his game by the sea amongst the cattle. There’s the ease of many hands making work light while washing the dinner dishes and breaking out into song. I don’t understand the effect this place has on me yet. Right now it’s simply Awe.
No comments:
Post a Comment