Into the Unknown

I was just talking to the Captain about his latest blog - Rewilding.  He points out that this is a step into the unknown.  What will happen over the years as the land is managed by the animals on it?  

The earth is so lovely and so complex.  And I am so grateful to Jehovah for giving us this lovely home - and for promising us he will not let it be brought to ruin.

I did very little today, beyond make the Captain's sandwich lunch - and tea.  And our tea was very simple - an Abel and Cole pastie apiece with leeks, and a yoghurt for afters.  I talked to Anne of the Cape via email, and also to a sister called Evelyn who lives further down the coast. She is Ghanaian, and she has had two knee transplants - is still getting over the second one.  We had a long and comforting chat and she has asked me to let her know how my visit to the surgeon goes.  It sounds like I will be spending months on crutches, and is all very scary, but she says she is glad she had it done.

So I too may be taking a step into the unknown.

Col and I are enjoying the latest Ben Fogle epic. Tonight he was spending time with a family who live in the Alsakan wilderness, in a yurt.  A young couple with two tiny children - lovely children and so well-behaved.  I am sure it is good for children to live close to nature, with beauty all around them.  Though that also means living rather close to bears.  But what a spectacular place Alaska is.  I've never been to America, but we have been to NZ a few times, and this reminded me of South Island. The light, the shimmering ice, the mountains...

When I was a child, the country came more into the city somehow.  We lived quite near the centre of our Northern town, which was the steel centre of the world back then  - all the stone was black with soot.  It was (and is) a city of trees and parks, one park stretching right out to the moors at Ringinglow.  And I can remember the ground being carpeted with baby frogs in the spring.  You don't even see that in the countryside now.

I tottered to the meeting yesterday, and at the end of the meeting the Presiding Overseer came over to tell me that there has been a discussion about me (and my notorious knees) and what they want me to do is to drive my car right up to the door.  "But", I panicked, "you don't want me reversing anywhere near our lovely new Kingdom Hall".   "Indeed", he assured me, "one of the elders will park your car for you, and bring it back to the door at the end of the meeting."

It made me want to cry, to feel so looked after.  Jesus said that if we follow him he will give us brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers, and how true that is.  And now I must really try much much harder to be a good sister myself.