Personal Blogs

A Good Piece of writing is like a beautiful image; it invites you in.

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Come now, stop stroking your phone and sign out of Instagram and Facebook and get something eternal down in writing.

Do you need an inspiring prompt? What's happening in this pretty Japanese town?

How about ‘The Light Streams In’ By Tomas Tranströmer, the Swedish poet/psychologist?

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/light-streams/

Do you ever walk through a graveyard and form a story in your head regarding a few details on the burial stone? Come on, we’ve all did it, right? Well what's the story her with these “Hanging coffins” ?

Mysterious Ancient Tradition Of 'Hanging Coffins' - MessageToEagle.com

 Too hard? What about captured nature in a Haiku? The West Wind Whispered by R.M.Hansard.

10 Incredible Haiku Poems You Have To Read - Poem Analysis

Okay, not inspired. What about a children’s story? What do you imagine here?

How Gyo Fujikawa Drew Freedom in Children’s Books | The New Yorker

So, get something down. I would love to read what you came up with: 

Happy writing

I believe it was John Gardner who said something like there being two plots to every story, Someone goes on a journey, and a stranger comes to town. Now let us see.

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Once upon a time, there was this bloke who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was travelling with a bundle of cash along this quiet road. It is not very clear, but suddenly a mugger or muggers jumped out and gave him a good work over and took his bankroll and left him for dead.

Well, someone came along and saw him lying and groaning. But despite the passer-by being religious, he wasn’t keen to get involved. He took a beeline across the road pretending he never saw him. This happened a few times whilst the man’s life was slowly slipping away.

After a few hours had passed, another man came along a stranger. He was a foreigner, and he quickly responded. He did the paramedic thing and then booked him into a local hotel and paid the bill in advance.

Do you recognise the story? It’s the Parable of the Good Samaritan, with a bit of a modern take. But it illustrates John Gardner's plot principle, someone leaves town and someone comes to town.

Luke 10:25-37 NIV - The Parable of the Good Samaritan - On - Bible Gateway

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Friday afternoons were the most depressing part of the school week. Two periods of maths with Mr … was like a day spent with spondylitis. So, Sam, Tam, and I would take the short ferry ride across the River Clyde from Govan to Kelvin and after a short walk, we were in the grand Kelvingrove Museum.

Whilst Sammy and Tam would head off to look at the Dutch Masters-odd characters in them paintings. I on the other hand, would always gravitate to a seven-century old tree stump in the Natural History section. I would run my fingers across its historical rings and feel its secrets like the voices concealed in the grooves of a ’78 vinyl record.

Nowadays, my Glasgow stump is considered an infant in dendrology circles. In Europe, a Bosnian Pine took root in A.D 941 when Vikings were pillaging islands and small settlement along Scotland’s West Coast. It has lived through the Reformation, the Renaissance, Hiroshima, the march of the Third Reich, and Brexit.

I’m always reminded of the historical march of time when objects and creatures have triumphed over man’s short seventy or eighty years.

We were reminded a decade ago about the death of Lonesome George, a Galapagos tortoise who lived for a century, but at the same time, aware that creatures such as whales and turtles with 160 birthdays, and jellyfish, that are gifted with immortality.

Perhaps it was with this thought in mind that Job, the ‘greatest of the Orientals’, asked the creator a rhetorical question and then answered it in his next breath: ‘If a man dies, will he live again? All the days I will wait until my renewal comes Job14:14.

We've all asked that question: right? No one wants to die, and when we do, we want to know if we will live again.

Mortality is never far away from my thoughts as I enter my sixth stage of life. I am still a youth in my heart who desires 5000 years like a giant sequoia. A renewal as Job put it.

Copywrite 2024 © by Jim McCrory

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I must have been around ten-years old when I was browsing in the bookshop one day. My eyes caught the colourful image of a marionette on the front cover of a book. I opened the page to the first chapter and read the following epigraph:

"Now it happened that Mr Cherry, the carpenter, found a piece of wood that laughed and cried like a child."

If there was ever an invitation to read a book, that epigraph was an open-armed welcome.

In 2018, my wife and I were visiting St Andrews on Scotland’s east coast. In the upstairs of the museum, there was a large room with a large dining table. It was all prepared with cutlery and other utensils. It was the Mad Hatters’ tea party. On the walls of the room were wonderful quotes from various children’s books; it was magical.

"You're mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I will tell you a secret. All the best people are." Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

So, on a whim, I decided to add Children’s Literature (EA300) to my Open Degree. The module was fascinating, and it took me through a cross section of the most wonderful books written for children and young adults. For example, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D Taylor. Set in the 1930s Mississippi, it tells the story of Cassie Logan, a nine-year-old negotiating racism during the period. It is one of those books that every child should read as it teaches empathy.

Voices in the Park, a picture book where text and image complement each other to tell the story. It juxtaposed two children living different lives, but negotiating the nurture nature challenges in diverse ways. Once again, a clever piece of writing as it teaches children the wisdom of having a positive outlook in life.

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

But the course burst my bubble. There are very few children’s book. Adults write the majority, and for good or bad, adults have agendas.

I was also torn by what we feed children. Should children be exposed and limited to the wonder of innocence like Anne of Green Gables and Peter Rabbit or is there a place for books that deal with broken families, an alcoholic parent, aggressive adults, and the like? Such books have merit if they instruct children in these situations where they can orchestrate life’s problems in wisdom. What say you? I am curious.

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My wife and I had a short break in the Scottish West Highlands one recent weekend. We took a walk through a little village that eventually led to a graveyard. We enjoy walking through such places; it draws attention to the wisdom found in Ecclesiastes 7:2, where we read that “It is better to go to the house of mourning,” KJV.

There’s a reason the verse imparts this advice. A walk through a graveyard reminds us we are mortal creatures and one day the garment that we wear will wear out.

I observed individuals embedded in their plots. Men, women, children who were the heroes of their own journey in life. Who had deep inner lives that were cut short? I say, cut short because you may think in what way is an 86-year-old cut short?

We are built to last with no sell-by date. God created man to live forever. Philosophically speaking, we do not need to look far to realise it. Think of our minds, I’m in my sixties and yet, I’m still a youth in my inner world. My brain has the potential to take in knowledge eternal. That we have a “mind” is one of science’s great puzzles.

However, what about you and I? John 3:16 shows that faith and life connect inexorably. It’s good to take a moment and read that verse and ask, “What does this mean for me?”

The Slovenian language has a word, an untranslatable word doživljaj, which embraces a rich encounter with someone or something. A walk through a graveyard embraces both the encounter with the graves that remind us of the short breath we take on this earth and also that by turning to God in our solitary walk and experiencing the rich encounter that leads to life.

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The first time I felt the concept of Kâmtéa  was back when I was twelve years old. I spent the summer on The Island of Bute, we had a cabin on Bogany Farm. There were around sixty cabins, and families would visit on two-week vacations.

The year in question I met new friends whom we shared many hours with. We made a tree swing in the woods, and we would talk for hours on end. Bonds would form, but when you are twelve years old, such bonds are so easily broken when we are under the authority of our guardians.

You see, my friends would have to return home, and I would be left as lonely as an empty pocket with only the moon and stars for company.

The song, Cottonfields by Creedence Clearwater Revival played frequently on the radio that year and every time I hear it now, I still feel that sense of Kâmtéa welling up.

Kâmtéa in the Khmer language captures a deep emotional state, often associated with sadness, mourning, or the experience of loss.

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Good morning, India, I like your word जुगाड़ , Jugaad

I was reading an experiment with ants. A cake was placed on a table with a moat of water surrounding the cake.

In came some scout ants who sniffed out the cake with their antennas. Afterwards, the brought in the rest of the colony.

So, how do you navigate the deep waters surrounding this Victoria sponge cake with full stomachs? They crawled up the wall and along the ceiling and parachuted down on top of the cake.

Now here is the problem: How do they get home. They are stranded on an island, you might say. Well, the formed a human chain across the ocean between the cake and the table. Then, the rest of the colony crossed over the bodies of their fellow ants.

I immediately thought of the Bible account about ants,

Go to the ant you slaker——

Consider its ways and be wise.

Proverbs 6:6 (TLV)

Ah! See its ways and be wise. God has gifted the ant with instinctive wisdom; the ability to work out problems in ingenious ways.

Jugaaḍ : is an unconventional, economical innovation (Hindi).

Copyright © 2014,2016 by the Tree of Life Bible Society.  Used by permission of the Tree of Life Bible Society.

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I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what town you come from. I don’t know what your culture is like, or whether you are young, old, newly married, or what religion you belong to. But you know something about me in what I write. This is the problem with blogging; it’s unilateral. I love the human family and would be delighted to sit with a coffee and chat with you about your interests, hobbies, beliefs and what makes getting up in the morning exciting for you.

That’s why I love hill walking in Scotland’s fine places. A few years ago, I was walking up Goat Fell on The Island of Arran on Scotland’s west coast. Accompanying me was a lovely family from Norway whom I just met. I. We had a great cultural interchange. Meeting with them is one of these films that is still rolling in my head despite the passing years. We remember kind people and I hope they had a lovely evening camping at the peak.

Alas! It is not humanly possible to keep in touch with everyone. But I truly believe that in the great cosmic journey, we may still meet the kind strangers that have passed our way.

When Jesus hung dying, a repentant criminal asked him, “When you get into your Kingdom, please remember me.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you today, you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23: 43.

We do not understand the details of that paradise, but one thing is for sure, it’s worth striving for.

So, perhaps you and I will meet again. Just ask for the thoughtful blogger called Jim when you make it.

Please leave a comment and tell me what part of the planet you are  from.

Bayanihan is one of those words that cannot be translated into English. It is a word that typifies a core Filipino value, spirit of community cooperation.

The spirit of Bayanihan has been exemplified in art. A simple search of the word online and up comes countless examples of villagers toiling in the hot sun carrying a village members home on bamboo poles and relocating it. See the following,

Bayanihan: The Spirit Of Community (youtube.com)

The spirit of the Filipinos reminded me of that account in Acts when the entire first century community acted unselfishly to support their fellow man

During those days, the entire community of believers was deeply united in heart and soul to such an extent that they stopped claiming private ownership of their possessions. Instead, they held everything in common. The apostles with great power gave their eyewitness reports of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. Everyone was surrounded by an extraordinary grace. Not a single person in the community was in need because those who had been affluent sold their houses or lands and brought the proceeds to the emissaries^[ of the Lord. They then distributed the funds to individuals according to their needs. Acts 432-35 (The Voice)

Scripture taken from The Voice™. Copyright © 2012 by Ecclesia Bible Society. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

 See also Wise Words To Start the Day - Finding Solace in an Alien World (when2or3gather.com)

Some days I am like an ant lying in a red wheelbarrow inside a green garden shed pondering the universe in existential angst.

Outside that red wheelbarrow, there’s another world. And outside the shed, there’s a greater world. The mind of the ant has walls. But so do we humans.

But let us explore that million-dollar Biblical question: Why does God permit suffering?

Imagine the scenario: one day in spring the village passers-by would observe a tiny robin building her nest. Puffing and panting, she worked all day collecting straw and intricately weaving a safe nest for her coming family.

That evening, the farmer came out and knocked down the nest.

The next day, the robin continued her bob-bob-bobbing along working tirelessly to prepare a home for the little ones.

Once again, the farmer returned that evening and knocked down that nest.

This continued for several days until the robin sought sweeter pastures. And soon after, a storm arrived and the whole tree was horizontal the following morning.

You see, the farmer knew the storm was coming and the tree was diseased, so by knocking the nest down, it eventually persuaded the robin to evacuate to a less hostile environment.

And this is the point, many condemn and abandon God due to human suffering, but they do not understand why God permits evil.

Take a few moments to read and ponder what is being said in the following verses. There are several points being made,

1.      God has permitted suffering (Verse 20,21).

2.      There will be a deliverance from suffering (Verse 21).

3.      God is aware of the pain suffering causes (Verse 22).

4.      God requires us to be patient (Verse 25.)

Romans 8:18-25

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which will be revealed toward us.  For the creation waits with eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.  For the creation was subjected to vanity, not of its own will, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of decay into the liberty of the glory of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and travails in pain together until now.  Not only so, but ourselves also, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for adoption, the redemption of our body.  For we were saved in hope is that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for that which he sees?  But if we hope for that which we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.

Berean Standard Bible

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Of all the words in the English language, sincere comes up top for me. I like the gentle sibilant two syllabic sounds that neatly roll from the lips.

The story goes that the word came from the Greek and literally means “without wax.” Seemingly, artists carefully working on sculptures and spending weeks, months even years on a project could accidently chip off a nose or ear when close to completion. What a disaster.

But what if they got a piece of wax and filled in the flawed piece before putting it up for sale. Devious indeed.

Now I don’t know how true that story is, but it illustrates the point I would like to make: When I think of the word sincere, I think of expressions such as genuine, heartfelt, unfeigned, bona fide, truthful, Nathanael. “What? Nathanael?” You may ask. Yes, Nathanael.

Back in the first century, when Jesus saw a fellow Israelite named Nathanael approach him, do you know what he said? Let’s read: It’s in John 1:47:

At that moment, when Jesus saw Nathanael approach, Jesus said to him “…for sure, an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

Oh, my goodness! Everybody lies. Everybody bends the truth. Everybody manipulates. Everybody hides who they are. Everybody is dishonest. But here is this small-town fisherman who has raised himself above all that.

I write with an overall paradigm of what it means to be human, and there is an important human standard that is being reflected in Jesus’ words that creates a feeling of discomfort in me. I think if we are all honest with ourselves; we are drawn to sincere people. They make us comfortable and secure. It’s good to be with them. Doesn’t that add some incentive for us to reciprocate that sincerity?

When I think of the word insincere, I think of deviousness, dramaturgical, dishonest, deceitful, underhanded, and Ananias and Sapphira:

https://bible.org/seriespage/12-be-honest-story-ananias-and-sapphira

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I woke up on Milarrochy Bay campsite on the shores of Loch Lomond on Sunday morning to a grand symphony of songbirds competing for the platform. It was one of these occasions were nature reveals to us that the whole is greater than the number of the parts.

The evening before, the rich sundown on the Loch captured me. It is a place of tranquil beauty that engenders one to look at the bigger questions in life. My thoughts took me to the statement by the Russian writer Leo Tolstoy who wrote,

In the name of God, stop and cease work and look around you.

I feel frustration in Tolstoy’s words. Don’t you? I empathise with his disappointment also. I recall an evening back in the sixties when I was a child when I first looked around me.

 I suppose it must have been the late summer. I had been spending the month on the idyllic Island of Bute on Scotland’s west coast. We had a cabin with no running water or electricity. My job was to go and fill up the water containers from the communal well. Cows would cautiously approach and stare curiously whilst the smaller ones would shuffle through for front-row viewing.

At dusk, we would light paraffin lamps to illuminate the nights. My father would read children’s books. We were all ears as he read Heidi, Tales From 1001 Nights and Chinese Folk Tales. We ate freshly made pancakes washed down with jam and small glasses of sweet stout.

The lamp caused a sibilant sound as it burned up kerosene. It flickered and fostered sleepiness. It finally slumbered for the evening, and we would retire.

I lay there in my bed watching the stars cascading through the window; every one of them. And I wondered if the Chinese farmer boys, or the Bedouin shepherd boys or the milk maids in the Swiss mountains were seeing and feeling the sense of awe that I felt in my heart as the universe entered in. Years later, I read the following,

"When I behold Your heavens,

The work of Your fingers,

The moon and the stars,

Which You have set in place –

What is man that You are mindful of him,

On the son of man that You take care of him."

Psalm 8: 3-6 (BSB).

Tolstoy was a believer. What would he think of humans today who deny the existence of God. It is a pity; man cuts down the tree to get to the fruit. We benefit from this incredible planet, and yet, we do not acknowledge its creator.

Do you think science has produced answers? Think about it, we do not know how the universe came to be. We do not know how inorganic produces organic. We are creatures governed by a morality that cannot be explained other than from an outside source. Why is the universe a mathematically precise? What is consciousness? The list goas on. Personally, I have found those answers in the Bible.

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When I was a child in the sixties. I would go with my mother shopping. These were the days when dogs ran after cars thinking the vehicles were predators. It was the days before supermarkets, plastic, decimalisation, Pot Noodles, and self-service.

The first stop was the fruit and veg shop and, being a weekend, there was a long queue. My mother wasted no time in starting a conversation with whoever was in the line.

Next were the butchers, and the queue scenario continued with a lengthy conversation whilst I shuffled my feet on the sawdust floor making shapes. Mother would ask the butcher to hold up fresh cuts of meat whilst she inspected it for flaws. This process would happen every week even though the meat was seen through the glass, but that is the way it was.

Then it was butter. Yes, a long queue just for butter and conversations. I was always fascinated by the way the man slapped the butter on to greaseproof paper and handed it over to mum. See, no plastic.

Then we would go on the bus and my mother would sit us near the front with all the shopping, then put her arm on the armrest and turn to everyone on the bus and start a conversation.

Well, that was Glasgow in the old days. The days when community and social connection meant something. Now we tuck ourselves away in the cyber-hive and wonder why there is so much loneliness, depression, and antidepressants.

I know this is a bit of a ramble, but let me tell you, my sister and I are no different, we find it easy to start conversations. When I visited her this week, I was telling her about a Dutch couple I met this week near Loch Lomond. My sister replied, “I think I know them.” What are the chances? There must be a million Dutch visitors who come to Scotland’s shores every year, but stranger things have happened.

Anyway, whether she knew them or not, she told me a lovely little story about appreciation. My sister and her husband met this Dutch couple at a caravan site in the past. Being friendly, they welcomed the couple and spent time with them, it is a cultural symbiosis. Tourists love to get to know the locals when they visit countries. However, when the Dutch couple left early one morning, they left a little pair of Dutch clogs as a remembrance and appreciation. Lovely!

Now if this couple my wife and I met were the same ones my sister met, all I can say is kleine wereld.