Welcome to our February Newsletter
Here we are already in February and Spring isn’t far away. However, some of us were greeted with beautiful snow during January. Not quite enough for a snowman but enough to cause excitement.
While preparing the Newsletter Joe Biden is preparing to be the 46th President in the U.S.A, his words resonate. “In these dark days, there is always light”.
The daffodils and snowdrops are already peeking through the soil.
Do you have a couple of hours free each month? Would you like to join us on the Council? We are a friendly bunch and we shall be needing a Secretary in the coming months. It’s an important role, you will be the church’s main point of contact. This role could be undertaken partly remote UK/France. Please see details in this Newsletter.
We hope, like us, this light hearted quote from Jacqui, makes you smile.
A priest and a taxi driver both died and went to heaven. St. Peter was at the Pearly Gates waiting for them.
“Come with me” said St. Peter to the taxi Driver. The taxi driver did as he was told and followed St. Peter to a mansion. It had anything you could imagine from a bowling alley to an Olympic-size pool.
“Wow, thank you” said the taxi driver.
Next, St. Peter led the priest to a rugged old shack with a bunk bed and a little old television set.
“Wait, I think you are a little mixed up” said the priest. “Shouldn’t I be the one who gets the mansion? After all, I was a priest, went to church every day, and preached God’s word”.
“Yes, that’s true. But during your sermons people slept. When the taxi driver drove, everyone prayed.”
LESSON: Only results count. Source: taken from Hatry, 1999
Thought for the month Provided by Alison Heal – Congregational Worship Leader
What will February bring to us? Are we anticipating a February which brings much-needed vaccines for many of the most vulnerable in our church family? Perhaps a February of further lockdown, or a February of cautiously rediscovering certain freedoms? Around the world, February finds us looking back on twelve months we could not have predicted.
For more or less a year, we’ve been living with the truth that writers in Bible times had no choice but to accept: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73). To paraphrase a popular and inspiring poem, we have been reminded that, “I am neither the captain of my own soul, nor the master of my fate”.
Our flesh, hearts, souls and our fates are not under our control. I am a fan of positive thinking and self-improvement. A positive outlook and willingness to learn and make progress are huge assets in life, but they may give us an illusion of ‘control’ which we don’t have. As Jacqui wrote in January, “For many people, it is their faith which has kept them going, knowing that God is always with us and that he will give us the strength to cope with whatever life springs on us”.
“God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever”. These may be words we’ve recited, read or heard from childhood, but what would it mean to take them to heart, to live every day as though strength didn’t come from my own will, my own sense of purpose, education and upbringing, or my access to health care? What would it mean to accept that my portion in life doesn’t depend on my work, my value to society or my family? If I lost those things, could I still say that I have strength and all I need? The psalmist must have lived dependent on God for a long time, to confidently claim that he could lose everything but still have endless goodness from God. If my life and self-worth are dependent on all those self-made things, am I risking what Jesus described as, “Gaining the whole world, yet forfeiting my very self”?
“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.”