Can you hear me now?

In my last blog, I mentioned that we had recently been abroad on a hugely enjoyable holiday, with 3 generations of our family (I found it rather sobering when I became part of the oldest generation when my mum died last year!)     One of the blessings of our time away was the opportunity to do quite a lot of swimming.  The complex where we were staying had a number of swimming pools.  We also went out on a catamaran one day and had the chance to swim in the sea.

I have to say that I am not a particularly confident swimmer.  I prefer, if possible, not to go out of my depth.  However, when most of our grandchildren were brave enough to venture into the sea, I thought I’d better join them.  I didn’t stray far from the catamaran, and managed to survive the experience (although when one of my grandchildren swam towards me and grabbed hold of my shoulder, I had visions of sinking to the bottom of the ocean!) 

Although I appreciated the many opportunities to swim, one repercussion was that my left ear became blocked.  I was surprised how much this greatly impaired my hearing overall, especially if I was in a group of people, when it was difficult to distinguish conversations going on around me.  I found the experience greatly frustrating, and it has certainly given me more empathy towards those people who have hearing impairment.  To cut a long story short, after I had returned to the UK, I was eventually able to have my ear syringed, which made a dramatic difference.  The nurse informed me that a large amount of wax was removed, but I declined the offer to have a look at it!

As I’ve been pondering on my experience of partial hearing loss, I have been reminded of how we can have problems hearing the voice of God.  Jesus says quite clearly (John 8.47), ‘Whoever belongs to God hears what God says’, yet somehow there seem to be times when we struggle to do so.  The equivalent of wax in one’s ear somehow prevents us from hearing what God is saying.  Perhaps sometimes the problem is not so much that we are not hearing God’s voice, but rather that we are not even listening.  And the reality us that often there are so many ‘voices' and so much noise going on around us that we can fail to distinguish the voice of God.   

A friend told me recently that they were hoping to find somewhere in the country away from the ‘light pollution' of towns and cities, so that they could gaze more effectively on the stars at night.  Some of the sounds and noises which we experience in our daily lives could be called ‘noise pollution’, drowning out what we should be hearing.  I believe that a regular ‘quiet-time’ when we seek to get away from distractions to spend time with and listen to God, still has much to commend it.

 'My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me' (John 10.27)

Signs of the times

We’ve recently returned from a wonderful two week family holiday in Madeira;  13 family members over three generations, ranging from 64 years of age down to 7 months.  We stayed in two adjacent villas on the HPB property at Cabo Girão, situated high up on Madeira’s southern coast.  It was great to spend time together as a family, to have fun, rest and relax, and enjoying the warm (but not too hot) weather.  The grandchildren loved the daily children’s activities which were available, and the adults enjoyed the facilities available on the site.  I even managed to carve out time to read the Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes!

The holiday provided a hatful of special memories.  The inter-generational nature of our family holiday caused me to reflect on the nature of the ageing process.  I can look back with very fond memories on my own childhood holidays, and now I find myself as the senior member of our family party.  In some senses, I don’t feel greatly different from how I felt at a much younger age, but my body sometimes tells me different, and a couple of holiday incidents, in particular, have reminded me that time marches on.

The first incident occurred when the grandchildren were playing with a ball and managed to lose it over a wall.  They couldn’t get down to retrieve the ball, but from where I was in the next villa it was less difficult to reach the ball.  In order to do so, I had to climb over a relatively small wall.  As I was in the process of doing so, and was balanced (a little precariously) on the wall, my 7-year-old granddaughter, Beth, called out “Be careful you don’t fall, grandad!”  She was concerned for her old grandad!

From Cabo Girão there is a walk down around 3,000 steps and some steep paths & roads to the seaside town of Câmara De Lobos.  The route goes through both cultivated areas and closely-knit houses.  Sue and I walked down on one occasion and caught a service book back up the hill.  Our son, Chris, decided later in the holiday that he would make the journey down and also attempt the more difficult task of walking back up again.  I was attracted by the idea (I had accomplished the feat when we had previously stayed there around 3 years ago), so decided to accompany him

We enjoyed our walk down, and spent some time in the charming town of Câmara De Lobos (once a favoured spot of Winston Churchill, who enjoyed painting there).  Then came time to begin our ascent back to our accommodation.  For about one third of the way back all was going well, we were making reasonably good progress.  Then, as we began climbing some steep steps, I suddenly felt quite faint and nauseous.   I had to sit down on the step, and because I felt so ill, had to lie down for a time to try and recover.  I felt rather foolish, but really had no option.

After some minutes (the actual amount of time varies, depending on whether you as me or Chris!), I began to feel better.  I did suggest carrying on our upward journey, but Chris pointed out that to do so would be very unwise.  I therefore made the decision to return down to Câmara De Lobos, from where I could catch a bus.  I encouraged Chris to carry on up the hill, while I made my way downwards.  He would have none of it, and instead insisted that he would walk down to Câmara De Lobos with me to make sure I was OK.  I knew I was not going to change his mind, so that’s what we did.  Once I was safely down in the town, Chris began his journey back up the hill on foot (which he did manage!)

Despite the fact that both incidents which I have related brought me face to face with the reality of my advancing years (whatever my mind tells me), I was at the same time very touched by the care and concern which both my granddaughter and son showed towards me – it’s good when someone cares.  I do want to be someone who is able to grow older gracefully, and I take pleasure in this verse from the biblical book of Isaiah:

Even to your old age and grey hairs
    I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
    I will sustain you and I will rescue you. (Isaiah 46.4)

A wonderful promise from our Creator God, and it is clear that sometimes he uses other people in fulfilment of the promise,