Author: Heather McEwan

Posted on

The Proverbs Ch 8 Key

One winters day a long time ago, six children and their mum went for a walk like none before.

This walk saw children excitedly crisscrossing road and path, bending over stems and flowers, calling out to one another “look at this one! It’s a spiral!”, “look at this one! It’s an opposite!”, “look at this lily! It’s one and one!”

The conversation just before the walk had been their mother sharing from a book where she’d read that the leaves of every stem either grew opposite one another… or in such a way that a spiral around the stem could be traced from one leaf to the next and the next.

There was no random.

Continue reading “The Proverbs Ch 8 Key”
Posted on

“TIMES 12 PROVERBS” READING CLUB

INVITATION

The stench of bat droppings and the heaviness of dark encroaches on the senses where the only louder sound is the terror of the killer silently approaching and the desperation to get beyond his deadly intent.

The need to move outstrips the fear of the crawling black backs that glint in the approaching torchlight as you search and grope for the hidden lock.

Something indents under your hand – Whirring and clicking and movement in stone, light beyond, a way opens, relief washes, need propels and movement happens.

Continue reading ““TIMES 12 PROVERBS” READING CLUB”
Posted on

Blue & Gouda – a parable that’s not about cheese

These two boys are the best of friends. The little one shadows the bigger one. The bigger one looks after the little one. When a ball is thrown Blue always gets there first but when he’s told “Gouda’s turn” he sits and waits for the little one to have a go and sometimes instead of returning the ball for the next throw, he drops it near Gouda for him to pick up and bring back.

I spent two weeks watching them in New Zealand at the home of my second son and his wife who moved there just over two years ago.

They made me smile a lot… and one day they spoke to me. Clear as a bell – they spoke to me.

I was watching them from my sunny morning spot on the couch by the window and they were rumbling together on the deck. Gouda’s entire front leg was in Blue’s mouth when there was a single solitary yelp from Gouda. Quick as a flash the leg was released, the little leg licked better and the game slowed pace – but they didn’t growl or separate or sulk or cower. It was a game. It wasn’t about power and because Gouda trusts Blue the game could go on.

Posted on

Nudged

There’s a very long string of reasons why I found myself in this exact location, under this giant leaf canopy at 7.30 this morning in Whangerai New Zealand…. The last three of them being – the allure of coffee at a local cafe, the cafe being closed for Anzac Day and then the onset of rain sending me for the cover of this tree to see how serious the rain was planning to be. It wasn’t very serious at all but I was so glad the uncertainty sent me hurrying to this incredible spot.

This photo cannot convey how glorious it was to be in the filtered light under this sprawling umbrella. The photo is as an onlooker instead of as an immersion.

Nudged.

Covered.

Enveloped.

Shadowed.

Sheltered.

Lit.

Immersed in beauty.

Loved.

Posted on

A Story in Moments

There’s a little old house at the main intersection out from our little side pocket of the hills, that I hadn’t realised I’d been watching till I’d been watching it for a decade or so, and only then because some sadnesses were being played out in vignettes of only seconds, each time I pulled up to turn right down the hill.

Nearly 30 years I’ve been watching. Half of those without consciously taking note but now looking back there’s a story.

Continue reading “A Story in Moments”
Posted on

about lifting the needle and strange names

It’s the 30th of December  2021.  The second last day of the year.  A strange year for many reasons for many people. Yet the repetition of this week between Christmas and New Year is striking to me… the week when the days of the week are confused, where time matters little, days stretch long in the heat looking forward to the cool of the night and that strange feeling – that I once would have labelled ‘boredom’ lurks around the edges.

Continue reading “about lifting the needle and strange names”
Posted on

Posting Pictures

While the world turns and turmoils, I post pictures of beaches.

While suspicion rises and opinions gain momentum, I paint another picture.

While fear whispers unheard but felt, I’ll play another song.

When I see my children online, I want to blow the whistle, ring the bell, honk the horn, call them in. “Time to go home now!”, give them dinner and baths and tuck them in with kisses and goodnights and “see you in the mornings” – but instead my heart holds and loves and lifts… and His Spirit hears my love as prayer.

The Cross is bigger than the mess.

Posted on

Sludge

Picture someone you like/love/want to help.

You see worth and value in them.
You want to do what you can.

Then you look down and notice their feet are stuck in a sticky black substance but you still see their worth (more than the sludge) and you know you’ve got ‘stuff’ too so you’re undaunted.

Continue reading “Sludge”