Thirty years and a fortnight ago I first sat in my study and looked out over the top of the cherry tree in the garden below. Flowers in the winter and leaves in summer have always been there. I moved out when our first baby moved in to ‘his room’, but when he grew up and moved out, I moved back. Nothing had changed. Same friend outside the window.
Over the last two or three years I realised that all was not well. I sought professional advice and the verdict was fungus and disease. Today it will all be over with a few swipes of a chain saw and a chipper. I always knew that there was a risk that this would happen. No one recalls the tree being planted and they are not immortal, but…
We all understand the rhythm of life; we live with it until the time comes…
Ecclesiastes 3 summarises the way it works in a passage often used to help us restore balance at a time of personal bereavement. So often that is the point; it is not that the rhythm has altered or anything else has changed markedly except that as the rhythm beats its bass line underpinning the melody of life somewhere in the harmony there is a trip, a momentary loss of balance which will be restored but it takes a while to adapt while the rhythm beats on.
I will get used the change in view but I will miss the pink blossom that brings colour to a winter day just as one instrument missing from the orchestra may not change the rhythm or the tune, but it certainly alters the harmony.
A Prayer
Lord, we so easily take for granted the things we see and the comings and goings of life. Sometimes we are unbalanced for a while and at other times we watch others stumble. You who are the same always have promised to be there when we call out, and you watch us when we forget to call. Help us never to lose the sound of the rhythm of your love whatever changes in the harmony of life, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.