Hello from Shelagh at Prime Time!

Dear fellow Prime Time members,

‘I really ought to….’

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling flat. And I don’t know why. I have so much to be thankful for: having received my second jab when millions in the world haven’t even had their first; things opening up exponentially here when lockdowns continue in other parts of the world; the Proms happening, and with an audience, something that couldn’t have been countenanced this time last year; and Team GB’s amazing success at the Olympics. The Olympics and the stories behind the competitors, have been a real lift in recent weeks. Take Beth Shriever, deprived of funding from UK Sport who said they could only fund male BMX riders, who was courageous enough to launch a crowdfunding campaign two years ago which got her to Tokyo and winning a gold medal. Or Simone Biles, whose mental health concerns forced her to quit most of her competitions; but who came back strongly in the beam event which won her a bronze. Not to mention the rowers who were narrowly pipped into fourth place. (After all, it isn’t winning that counts, it’s the taking part.) And there are countless others. And, if you are fortunate enough to have internet or a smart TV, all these events are still available to watch from your own living room.

So why do I feel flat? Perhaps it’s the weather, autumnal now for days and days. Perhaps we’ve forgotten about that heatwave back in July, or if we remember it at all it was because it was too hot to do anything. Perhaps it’s that nagging feeling, now that I have been double-jabbed, that I should be doing more. And if lockdown has taught me anything at all, it is that it is perfectly OK to stop, to rest, to reflect. There’s a wonderful poem somewhere which tells me just that:

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

W.H. Davies, who wrote this poem, had an unconventional life. He is said to have begged his way across America, having left his native Wales, and to have lost his leg while jumping from a train.

A wise old friend once told me that I was suffering from ‘hardening of the oughteries’. Yes, this nagging feeling again. I see requests for volunteers (and the Church is not exempt from this!) and feel I should step into every need that comes to my attention. But, as another wise old friend said to me: ‘The need does not constitute the call’. It’s OK to say ‘No’. It’s OK to tell myself that that is not my job, that other people are available to  do it. And it’s OK to accept that God loves me just as I am, without my having to earn His love by rushing around doing everything for other people.

In our generation, upbringing has a lot to do with it. If we didn’t live through the Second World War, we have parents, perhaps even grandparents, who did. They had to work hard simply to make ends meet. While we have been blessed with a National Health Service (even though we’ve had to wait to get things done), a state pension at least, and a free bus pass. And aren’t we grateful! When I was a little girl I was regularly sent ten bob (now 50p) at Christmas by a kind second cousin. One year the obligatory (in our family at least) thank-you letter didn’t get written because of a communication failure (yes, they happened even in those days before internet and mobile phones). For several years after that the cousin withheld her gift. Eventually all was forgiven, without any words being said, and the gift was restored.

In fact last week has seen many answers to prayer. Much to give thanks for! We had a lovely walk last week round Nymans Gardens, followed by lunch with people with whom we have linked up in friendship (through zoom) during lockdown. We visited a vineyard in East Sussex and learned how vines can thrive  now in this country, given some training and know-how. We had the privilege of entertaining a student from Iran and enjoying his company. I enjoyed a most entertaining walk round Guildford, learning about the significant literary figures who graced the town with their presence. And things are opening up in other ways: Jim has already taken part in concerts, services and recordings. And he does love his singing.  And prayers for a couple of friends have been answered in big measure.

I have been reading a most amazing book recently: it’s The Far Pavilions by M.M. Kaye. OK, it’s 900 pages long, but during lockdown I could cope with that, and it did take me some time to read. Why? Because it became so intense and exciting that I couldn’t read it at bedtime, for fear that thinking about it would keep me awake, and I do need my sleep! I do recommend it as a good read, but it does come with a health warning, which is that many of the more tragic episodes are based on fact: I know because I checked on the Internet afterwards. The book is also available as a TV series on one of those subscription channels that most of us cannot be bothered to get, cannot afford to get, or don’t know how to get. So there I leave it. Read the book.

You know what (as my grandchildren would say), I’m feeling less flat now. So perhaps a good time to leave it there with the words of the Psalmist: ‘Taste and see that the Lord is good, blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him’.

Every blessing,

Shelagh

 

Shelagh Godwin

Primetime Member