Thought for the Week

Campbeltown Courier - - DISTRICT NEWS - with Mar­i­lyn Shed­den

It never ceases to amaze me as re­gards the va­garies of Ar­gyll weather. Of­ten I am bask­ing in glo­ri­ous sun­shine in Muas­dale when a friend will come down from Tar­bert to re­gale me with sto­ries of tor­ren­tial rain just up the road. It can be mis­er­able in Muas­dale, sunny in Southend, tor­ren­tial in Tar­bert and pleas­ant in Pen­in­ver. Lochgilp­head can be lovely, Ar­dr­ishaig can be awe­some, Tay­val­lich can be ter­ri­ble, while Fur­nace can be freez­ing. All the sea­sons in just one day in so many places. Yet in the midst of all this I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love to see the storm clouds roll in and trans­form a drift­ing cloudy sky into a can­vas of pure drama. I re­joice in the trans­for­ma­tion of glo­ri­ous rain laden skies into the glow of rain­bowed clouds cel­e­brat­ing their vic­tory over the storm. I love to watch the mir­ror on the sea rip­ple into a cas­cade of white moun­tains of foam. I love to watch the seag­ulls tossed on in­vis­i­ble wings of wind as they twist and turn in the cool night air. I love this weather that is Ar­gyll. And now Au­tumn’s colours kiss the hills with the in­ti­ma­tion of win­ter. And all these speak of the won­der­ful world of God’s or­der. Words from a hymn: ‘In the cold and snow of win­ter, there’s a spring that waits to be, Un­re­vealed un­til its sea­son, some­thing God alone can see. In our end is our be­gin­ning, in our time in­fin­ity: In our death a res­ur­rec­tion, at the last a vic­tory, Un­re­vealed un­til its sea­son, some­thing God alone can see.’ All of cre­ation sings praises to her cre­ator – come and join the song.

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