Tag Archives: M

Come on in…

Final days of March… Next month is STEPS! Be creative, take some shots and send them in!!

We have been praying a lot into the supernatural here in Mallorca.. there have been amazing stories coming out of here in the past. A recent well that seems a bit blocked up! So we continue to pray. It feels, some days, like Heaven is close but we are not seeing the miracles etc. that we are praying for…..not yet anyway.

So steps/stairways/ladders etc. Often we pray ‘Heaven come down’, recently been thinking about going up to meet Heaven coming down…whatever that means?!

Either way it’d be nice to have the angelic and the super things of God a little bit more part of every day life, a little more at home with us.

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M is for Poppy

M is for Mohn or Poppy; If you speak a 2nd or even a 3rd language THEN you have twice as many “things” that start with M.

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M is for…

….. my new bike. I was chatting with a neighbour up the road about cycling. The one small snag was that I didn’t actually have a bike so for the past few years I’ve always borrowed one. This has worked fine. Then my neighbour says to me ‘We’ve got one you can have – it’s been sitting in our garage and it needs to be used.’

This blew me away. He didn’t want any money for it (I lobbied hard) – and this from a guy who doesn’t have a job.

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Quite often we have really needed something and, without saying anything, we find that things come our way from the people we live with.

Our village is what the government calls ‘economically fragile’. Jobs up here are low paid (particularly when compared to the rest of the UK) so many people – if they can find work – end up doing more than one to pay the bills.

And that’s why it always challenges and humbles us when the people who have the least are the first to be generous.

But back to the bike. It’s called Apollo – so maybe it’s more than a bike. Infinity and beyond anyone?

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Ready for dinner..

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Paseo Marítimo, Palma

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Since we seem to be on M, this came to mind.

I often wondered what the first settlers to the US thought when they had travelled across the endless plains and then saw the mountains in the distance. Were they demoralised? Or was it only when they started to climb the foothills of the Rockies that they realised how far and how high they went?

Thought I would add this poem to the email.
What did you expect to see?
What did you expect to see
when you crossed that ridge?
Did you expect to see
the sea glistening in the distance?
Did your heart sink to see
the dusty prairie flowing out in front of you?
Another bone wrenching days ride
What did you expect to see
when you crossed that ridge?
The mountains stretching to sky
forming an impenetrable barrier for those wagons of yours
hemming in your dreams
or did you see the cottonwood trees
and the promise of water and shade from that relentless sun?
What did you expect to see
when you crossed that ridge?
Were your hopes dashed and crushed
beneath the wheels of your wagon?
Or did they soar like the ospreys
at the promise of the water and unclaimed land?

On one side of Fort Collins is a ridge before you get to the plains and I often wondered about the folks that came across that ridge and what they expected to find. I was also amazed to see the tiny wagons that they used, not necessarily the big ones we see in the films, how did they manage to make the trip in those?

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