Rector's Letter - November 2002

 My Dear Friends,

 The season has suddenly turned.  Autumn frosts have arrived and lie stiffly on the fields.  As night skies fall cloudless and starry I begin again my routine of a late night walk across to the boiler room to check the heating.  Winter winds whip around each corner leaving swirling circles of fallen leaves in their wake.

 For me this is a season of thought.  A time to ponder and ruminate.  A time for staring into the fire as crackling wood turns to ashes.  The activities of Harvest have set behind us and the madness of Christmas lies yet to rise below the horizon ahead.  Our Church life now sighs with the gentle rhythm of Remembrance and the season of All Souls.

 Some parts of life require us to live at a headlong adrenaline-fuelled rush: the shrill call of the morning alarm, the commute to work in the outside lane of the motorway, the to-do list posted on our computer screens, the flashing message indicator on the answerphone, the clamouring voices of children inundating the home at the end of the school day.  But every so often, an oasis:  The house falling still as tired heads drop upon their pillows, or a moment of reflection staring through steamed-up windows as raindrops weave drunken paths down panes of glass.

 I have no objection to activity.  I value the work ethic.  I love the hustle and bustle of life.  I just don't want life controlling me instead of me, life.  So if you come across an oasis moment, enjoy it, it may be that you have to "fill each unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run" as Kipling declared, but even athletes need rest days, our busy weeks need their Sabbath rest, our Church year it's season of remembrance.

 Every busy morning needs a coffee break, so sit down and thank God for full lives and quiet moments.  Both have their place.

 Jeff Cuttell.

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