It was a Sunday afternoon in January. Having done this that and the other, I headed for Abbey Park before the sun set. On the way down Jack’s Lane I met a certain Andy Vaughn Jones. ‘Have you written your article for the Turvey News yet?’ ‘No way’ I answered, and continued on my walk wondering if I should write about colourful characters one can meet when out for a walk, but maybe not.
As I walked along, I was thinking about the chaos I had created in the office where my computer lives—a carpet layer would be there in a day or two and I had dreamt of creating a new system and ordering everything into perfect order before he came, as opposed to my current chaos. But, I like the word ‘chaos’. I seem to divide between wanting everything at right angles to everything else and having a complete chaos—but a chaos in which I know where everything is. I don’t often travel by train, but when I do I rather enjoy seeing what people have got tucked out of (their) sight in their back gardens, it makes me feel that I am not alone in my chaos.
As the sun disappeared behind the distant trees, and darkness began to fall, the words of a hymn by John Marriott came to mind:
Thou whose almighty word
chaos and darkness heard
and took their flight . . .
It’s now the time of year when the days are lengthening rapidly, darkness is ‘taking its flight’, but what about chaos? Our world seems to remain very chaotic, perhaps even becoming more so—chaos seems to have a tendency to seep into all the nooks and crannies of our lives and our world. Do not assume that living in a Benedictine community, as we do at Turvey Abbey, is a recipe for instant peace and tranquillity, far from it, even if the Benedictine motto is Pax. But as Christians we do have faith that God will, in his own way, lighten our darkness and guide us through the chaos to his peace.
Holy and blessed Three,
Glorious Trinity,
Wisdom, Love, Might!
Boundless as ocean’s tide,
Rolling in fullest pride,
Thro’ the earth, far and wide,
Let there be light!
I’m sure you are dying of curiosity to know if I my computer now lives in the perfect office. Well, I have nice new carpet tiles, but, as usual, there is a collection of items floating around that refuse to be categorised. I’m reminded of someone who said to me long ago that a friend had given her a ‘where to put it book’ (a sort of folder for miscellaneous items), but she didn’t know where to put it.
