Small joys

A little something to start your day . . . or whenever you need to start over again.

Sunrise at Uluru

The Deer’s Cry (I arise today)
I arise today through the strength of heaven
Light of sun, radiance of moon
Splendor of fire, speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind, depth of the sea
Stability of earth, firmness of rock

I arise today through God’s strength to pilot me
God’s eye to look before me
God’s wisdom to guide me
God’s way to lie before me
God’s shield to protect me
From all who shall wish me ill
Afar and a-near
Alone and in a multitude
Against every cruel, merciless power
That may oppose my body and soul

Christ with me, Christ before me
Christ behind me, Christ in me
Christ beneath me, Christ above me
Christ on my right, Christ on my left
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down
Christ when I arise, Christ to shield me
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me

I arise today

Teddy Small Joys: seeing the wonderful amid the uncertainty, fear and the ordinary – like a teddy bear in the window.

Now and again I journal. With so much happening, and at the same time nothing much seeming to happen when you do the right thing and self-isolate, I headed a double page in my current journal and headed it Small Joys. Here are my first three:

My daughter, working from home along with two small boys to look after, decided it was the right time to finish a piece a cross stich she had laid aside approximately 15 years ago. For all kinds of reasons that still gives me a buzz of joy.

Tucked among the leaf litter in the garden was the tiny white skeleton of a garden skink – a lizard like head and a long minute backbone and a scatter of even more minute claws. So small, so perfect.

A piece of packing paper rescued from our yellow rubbish bin – hard to describe, but a piece of brown paper cut into a pattern that reminded me of an outdoor metal staircase, giving it flexibility beyond its original use. I might never use it, but it tapped my wonder button.

Why not start your own list of small joys.

May each of us be overtaken by God in the midst of little things. May we see in each and every little thing the fullness of God’s presence in our lives   

                                                                       Judith     (judith

Inside the edge

In this time of uncertainty, when things change so quickly and we are inundated with imagescoronavirus-focused words, I’d like to offer something a little different, something prayerful, words that can take us through anxiety and fear and into moments of peace.

A friend in London texted me this YouTube link: Wish you blessings to meet the need, dearest Judith. I play this many a time. I love the words.

God of Day and God of Darkness

God of day and God of darkness,
now we stand before the night.
As the shadows stretch and deepen,
come and make our darkness bright.
All creation still is groaning
for the dawning of your might.
When the Sun of peace and justice
fills the earth with radiant light.

Still the nations curse the darkness,
still the rich oppress the poor.
Still the earth is bruised and broken
by the ones who still want more.
Come and wake us from our sleeping,
so our hearts cannot ignore
all your people lost and broken,
all your children at our door.

Show us Christ in one another.
Make us servants strong and true.
Give us all your love of justice,
so we do what you would do.
Let us call all people holy.
Let us pledge our lives anew.
Make us one with all the lowly.
Let us all be one in you.

You shall be the path that guides us;
you the light that in us burns.
Shining deep within all people,
yours the love that we must learn.
For our hearts shall wander restless
’til they safe to you return.
Finding you in one another,
we shall all your face discern.

Text: Marty Haugen (1985)
Tune: BEACH SPRING 87.87D (Sacred Harp, 1844)

American poet Mary Oliver said that “the edges of our lives–fully experienced suffered, and enjoyed–lead us back to the centre and the essence, which is God.” Which partly explains why I’m calling this page, and other posts to follow, Inside the Edge. Consider sharing them with others who might appreciate something life-giving.

God be with you on whatever edge you and yours are right now.

Judith Scully      (