I play tennis on a Friday morning with a ‘Ladies Roll-up’ group, some of whom have been playing for years whereas I started recently. Today, most of my shots were from the ‘sweet spot’ in the middle of the racket. They sailed across the net and (mostly) landed within the lines.
Earlier this week I listened to a concert online. I had intended to do stuff at the same time but the music was beautiful. The evening sun was shining through new leaves growing on the beech tree making them translucent. I sat and allowed the sense of God’s love to envelop me.
Most of the week has been a rush and flurry of business related to winding up my mother’s affairs, looking after grandchildren and urgent jobs around the house. Beneath the surface bubbles a maelstrom of grief, anxiety about the Indian variant, and the delightful but perturbing joys of meeting up with friends again following the easing of the UK lock down. I needed those moments of sweetness in the middle of the hurly-burly. A final one was the poem ‘A Song for Minke’ by Sir Michael Morpeth, about a young minke whale that became stuck in the Thames and did not make it. You can listen on YouTube here. The poem celebrated the life of the whale, but also, for me, the hard times that many of us have passed through in the middle of the pandemic.
Hitting tennis balls,sunlight through translucent leaves, and a poem, brought me into that space in Revelation 22 where the river flows through the city, the tree of life on either side.
‘Breathe, minke, breathe.’
I am a writer, blogger and speaker who looks forward to this Friday challenge to write for five minutes on a prompt word from Kate Motaung. https://fiveminutefriday.com/start-here/
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