Keren Dibbens-Wyatt's Blog, page 25
February 5, 2017
36. Primroses (hope)
[image error]
Spring is beginning to show its face, albeit a little tentatively, knowing that February can hold a few wintry surprises yet. The brightness of the yellow butter curls seems so out of place in the still half-dead garden that it always surprises me. If nature can be so bold with its colours, and so brave in its unfurling, maybe there is hope for even the shyest of us, or for those of us tucked away under the duvet of sickness.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
February 4, 2017
35. Lunch? (hope)
[image error]
What you cannot see in this photo is the proximity of a plump pigeon, right in Melody’s eyeline as she looks through her catflap with hope in her green eyes. In such a case, the hope is entirely false, since however large the pigeon, Melly would never manage to lay a claw on it due to her lack of speed, excess of girth and complete inability to go through her door without making a gigantic clatter. But still the hope is there, poised and undeniable. Sometimes I feel surges of inexplicable optimism too, even though, like my cat, you’d really think I would know better by now.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
February 3, 2017
34. Crumbs, chief! (hope)
[image error]
Yesterday my two nearest and dearest went out and brought me back this little fella. It gave me a smile, and reassured me as well of my worth in the world. I am not a great sidekick, I am, like Penfold, a worrier, an anxious desk-jockey who wouldn’t even be able to drive the Mouse-mobile. But because Penfold is friends with Dangermouse, he’ll be okay. DM wants his friend around, despite his obvious weaknesses.
And that’s kind of how it feels with God. I’m no real use to him, to be honest, but “wherever there is danger, he’ll be there,” and I can be a little mole in thick glasses who doesn’t do much but get scared, and still he wants me for a partner in his work. That gives me hope.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
February 2, 2017
33. Dragonflies (hope)
[image error]
This is a close-up of my next prayer journal. My husband bought it for me for Christmas. Dragonflies are a favourite symbol of mine, not just because of their beauty and speed, but because they hover over the water, and skim between two worlds, and this is, in some senses, the very definition of the mysticism I love and breathe. To have them depicted on my next book where I’ll continue recording the love relationship between God and I, and the seeings he gives me, is very precious indeed, and the thought of all those conversations to come gives me hope for the future, even on a dark, gloomy day.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
February 1, 2017
32. Plath (hope)
[image error]
It might seem odd to see hope in poetry written by someone who took her own life, but for me it shows that however low we feel, or how insignificant we might think we are, we still may have created beauty that will outlast us. We may not have all written poetry, but we may well have spoken a kindness, given a smile or expressed an encouragement into another person’s life, that had a great impact. It is our small actions, as well as our seemingly large ones, that change lives. And Plath’s work has given hope and meaning to a great many readers. Beauty, however sad or even difficult, always improves the world.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
January 31, 2017
31. Wedding Roses (hope)
[image error]
These are some of the wooden roses we had as table decorations for our wedding. They were cheap and cheerful, as everything had to be, and they remind me that there is hope for romance even for a sickly divorcée in her late 30s (as I was then!).
Lots of my life dreams have not come about, but I was married in the Norman church I always dreamed I would be, to a man who is kind, intelligent, loving and funny. We have had an extremely tough time of it so far, but I hold onto the hope, when I look at them, that good things can still happen, even when you have stop believing they will.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
January 30, 2017
30. A Break in the Clouds (hope)
The next way of seeing we shall be looking at is to do so with the eyes of hope. How can the optimism that persists in our faith influence our contemplation?
[image error]
The sky’s patterns change so often, so quickly, so completely, and I love it. For me it is a constant reminder that there is always hope. A new opening, an unexpected tear, either thing might happen in the space of an instant. As contemplatives, observation of the skies helps us to hold the truth close that all is passing and everything circumstantial in our lives and the world around us is so much weather.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
January 29, 2017
29. On Wonder (shooting star)
[image error]
In our second fortnight, we have been focussing on how the sense of wonder affects our contemplations. Instilling our prayerful thinking with awe is a good habit to get into, as it constantly reminds us that we are dealing with heavenly things, even in the every day.
It transforms something quotidian into something magical, something ordinary into the extraordinary. There is, for the contemplative, truly nothing boring. There is always some wondrous thing to be seen or found within everything, even if it is something we have constantly before us. This wonder is crucial for learning to see with new eyes.
Sometimes, that seeing requires a little effort, or a slight tilt of the head, or a whoosh of the camera, as in today’s photo, where I moved as I took the shot of this blanket, so that I ended up with, not a picture of a piece of fabric, but a photo of a shooting star. Some might call this foolishness, but for those of us swimming within the mystery of God, foolishness too is something to aspire to.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
January 28, 2017
28. Raindrops (sense of wonder)
[image error]
A little out of focus, but to me, that just makes them look more like the photo was taken through a blur of tears, which is appropriate since the water drops look like tears on the branches. Even something that reminds us of sadness can be a source of awe, as we meditate on the miracle of water, of emotions, of the freeing, healing grace that can be poured out if the sky really cries.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
January 27, 2017
27. Goldfinches (sense of wonder)
[image error]
Colours are a huge source of inspiration to me, as many of you know, and goldfinches a particular favourite bird, for their brightness, their sweet chitter-chatter, and their grace. I am especially wowed by the yellow and the red livery, and by the swooping curve of their flight pattern, which looks like they are making the shape of waves in the air. A sight like this is quite simply, treasure.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017
