Cornwall Cogitation (North America) #4 Saturday 21 October 2016 Three words describe my week.
Whish: An elevator whishes up or down to the another level.
Whist: Quiet, silent.
Whisk: A nimble, brisk movement, as in beating eggs or whisking the kids off to bed.
A reminder before I get to the point
Here’s a reminder of why I use the Cornwall Cogitation (North America) slug (slug = the line that leads into and identifies each blog). During our annual stay in Cornwall UK we get around on foot, train and bus. And occasionally by vehicle with friends.
Out in the fresh air on the myriad paths along coast, lanes, fields and moors one has time and inclination to absorb what’s around you, to think, to dream, to experience the elements, to be silent, observant or loquacious. The up-hill and down-hill of a seaside town also keeps one limber. Glorious!
The same benefits derive from engagement at church, homes, Evensong at Truro Cathedral, eating out, reading, or various excursions.
What works in Cornwall, works at home, too. O happy day!
The three Ws
Whish. I used the elevator at the library at the start and the stairs at the end of the week. I’m progressing well on recovering from my fall of more than two weeks ago. Even cut the grass and trimmed flower beds on Thursday. We took three walks this week that each exceeded four miles.
Whist. On Tuesday we attended a Funeral Mass for Robert T. Jefferson at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church in Goshen.
Bob and Lucy Jefferson are friends from way back. Lucy was a daycare director, as was Marty for 25 years, and they continue to meet for lunch monthly as a Retired Directors’ Roundtable.
Some years ago Lucy and Bob joined us for a week on Prince Edward Island. We shared a cottage on the shore, cooked, played cards, told stories, toured, imbibed the goodness of the island and surrounding waters. Memorable. I quietly remember and thank God for Bob’s life and witness.
Bob’s memorial card has this prayer: “Hail Mary, full of grace! the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of they womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen”
Whisk. Chefs whisked up a Moroccan lunch for the Afternoon Sabbatical program, an International Luncheon, at Goshen College.
The presenter was Dean Rhodes, retired professor of Spanish and tour leader. He shared from his experiences of leading student terms and tours to Morocco. It made one wistful for joining one of his tours. The next one, in the new year is too close to our time in Cornwall.
You can only whisk yourself in so many directions.
Harvest time in LaGrange County
A fine evening of folk music, conversation and food
Scenes on foot around town
Coming up Sunday
My toughest task of the week lies ahead. On Sunday I’ll do Children’s Time at church. Scripture is Exodus 33:12-23. Nelson Kraybill’s sermon title is “In the cleft of the rock.”
If Moses had to have an animated back and forth conversation with God concerning his uncertainty and trepidation about the task assigned him in leading a stiff-necked people out of the desert, then I’ll look to Nelson’s sermon for “further liberty.”
I’ll show the children some large prints of birds nesting safely in the clefts of cliffs. I’ll emphasize that God is our rock and refuge. God loves and protects us beyond what we can ever imagine. God goes ahead of us even when we hardly see the way. God is with us. God cares for all people of all ages and places, all animals, all creation. God covers us in the cleft of the rock.
A farewell for Connie Caiceros at the Center for Community Justice
Whish, whist, whisk, whoosh,