Tuesday, 23 September 2014

The First Day of Autumn

Autumn started officially today, having given us plenty of warning of its coming, in the colours of leaves and the soft September sunlight.

We went to Pulborough Brooks today for lunch - cottage pie and veggies for Himself, macaroni cheese and salad for me.  It was a Dragonfly day - and we also saw a Clouded Yellow.

Dave and Maggie are coming tomorrow - there must be an Aramco reunion vibe going through the world.   We are going to go out for fish and chips. Jacks will join us. We wanted to go to the Arun View, but its still not open, so I don't know where we will end up.  Chip shop chips at home, if necessary.

I want to say something brilliant about Autumn - but will only say just look at it, the beautiful way the leaves die and are shed, the joy in seeing it all.  And maybe you will want to find and thank the Maker of it, as I was inspired to all those years ago on a September afternoon in Sheffield.

If you search for Jehovah, he will let himself be found by you.

Here is the promise, in Paul's speech to the men of Athens:

“Men of Athens, I see that in all things you seem to be more given to the fear of the deities than others are.  For instance, while passing along and carefully observing your objects of veneration, I found even an altar on which had been inscribed ‘To an Unknown God.’ Therefore, what you are unknowingly worshipping, this I am declaring to you.  The God who made the world and all the things in it, being, as he is, Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in handmade temples;  nor is he served by human hands as if he needed anything, because he himself gives to all people life and breath and all things.  And he made out of one man every nation of men to dwell on the entire surface of the earth, and he decreed the appointed times and the set limits of where men would dwell,  so that they would seek God, if they might grope for him and really find him, although, in fact, he is not far off from each one of us.  For by him we have life and move and exist, even as some of your own poets have said, ‘For we are also his children.’"

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