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Jim McCrory

"And the Sea Gave Up Their Dead"

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 5 Apr 2024, 13:46


Image by https://unsplash.com/@olgaga

Having grown up in a maritime city, I was no stranger to stories of shipwrecks off the Scottish west coast. One that fascinated me was the story of HMY Iolaire. This was a vessel that was returning to the Island of Lewis on Scotland’s west coast on January 1, 1919.

On board were no ordinary group of passengers, but 283 men who were returning from WW1. As they anticipated returning to their families after much deprivation and discomfort of the war, they no doubt looked forward to catching up on the lost years of absence.

The waters were hostile that day and the captain struggled to negotiate a safe passage. Suddenly, the ship struck rocks and 201 of the 283 men perished.

When the bodies were recovered, in their pockets were toys. Yes, toys. Toys for their children whom they had dearly missed. Gifts that would re-establish the lost years with their relationship with their little ones.

I am comforted by the promise made in God's word at Revelation 20: 12,13 where we read the following:

'And there were open books, and one of them was the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their deeds, as recorded in the books. The sea gave up its dead, and Death and Hades gave up their dead, and each one was judged according to his deeds.'



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Jim McCrory

Dostoevsky and Universal Justice

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Sunday, 30 June 2024, 10:08


Image by Image by https://unsplash.com/@lukemichael


The Ark of the Universe... Bends Towards Justice--Martin Luther King Jnr


In 2010, I picked my copy of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov from my bookshelfI had made a few attempts at it, but with life’s interruptions, the eight hundred pages were daunting. I now felt guilty that I had not read a book that was influential to so many writers and readers. A quick read would take me, a slow reader, about 30 hours, but this was not a book to dart through. It contained depths of philosophical thought.

There is the adage, ‘It takes a worried man to sing a worried song.’ It was of no surprise that a Google search for images of Dostoevsky revealed a middle-aged man with an unkempt beard and receding hairline. A skeletal face. Serious, with an ailing complexion. A profile revealing the tell-tale face of a man who experienced considerable injustices.  Diagnosed with Grand Mal Epilepsy as a teenager, a last-minute reprieve from a firing squad, exiled to Siberia, death of his second wife whom he loved, death of his child from an epileptic convulsion and the distress of raising a troubled teenager.

However, if the Karamazov book is anything to go by, it was the existential angst that troubled Dostoevsky later years. Mourning the repeated inhumanity of Russian society, he inevitably turned to thoughts of Divine justice. A question that is as relevant today as it was two centuries ago.

When he was exiled to Siberia, an old widow supplied him and his fellow prisoner’s hospitality. She signalled out Dostoevsky and gifted him with a Bible. He later wrote, in his letters ‘I am a child of this age, the child of disbelief and doubt, until now and even to the grave. What a terrible torment this thirst for faith has taught me, and now cost me, which is stronger in my soul, the more in me the arguments to the contrary’ The Bible, she gave him, was still in his possession at his death.

Fascinating that The Brothers Karamazov was, despite careful reading, I never found that attributed phrase where Alisha said to his atheist brother, ‘If there is no God, then all things are permissible.’ The problem lies in the translation it seems. Nonetheless, the aphorism stands as a valuable argument for objective morality and the personal God. Why does something exist rather than not exist? Why are humans who are apparent chemicals that have come about in the big cosmic game of chance directed by this virtue called justice? Is all the goodness and wickedness carried out by humans all for nothing? Are the acts carried out by Pol Pot, Putin, Stalin, and others, permissible? Will there not be a great judgement? Are we alone in this dark universe where anything goes? No, we’re not alone.

We are governed by an invisible force that bends towards justice. We feel it in our lives daily. I say bends because we are free moral agents on a level playing field where goodness and wickedness meet. There’s too much wickedness for God to exist some might say. But isn’t the reverse also true? There’s considerable goodness. Why would any virtue exist in a universe that just happened? I see medical staff going to war-torn countries and risking life to provide care for those who are not their kin. What about Ignacio Echeverría, the 39-year-old Spanish lawyer who confronted the terrorists in the 2017 London Bridge attacks and sacrificing his athletic future and life in the process? There’s the stranger who sacrifices a kidney for the person he will never meet. The millions of charitable givers who make life more endurable for orphans in Brazil, the Philippines, Bangladesh, and other parts of the world. These acts defy the theory of reciprocity allogrooming. These acts describe altruism in the true sense. Just pure, unconditional love. And history is filled with such acts.

The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous,

and His ears are inclined to their cry.

But the face of the LORD is against those who do evil,

to wipe out all memory of them from the earth.

Psalm 35:115,16.

Bornean Standard Bible



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Jim McCrory

How Did We Get Here Despite the Odds?

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 5 Apr 2024, 13:47

Images by  https://unsplash.com/@nasa

Have you ever wondered why there is something rather than nothing? Think of the complexity of DNA, the complexity of genes, and chromosomes. Think of the chances of life on our planet. If the other planets like Mars and Jupiter were not present, life would be impossible. If the earth’s axes were not tilted, you would not be reading this. If the gravitation force were altered by one iota of a  degree, you would not be eating your next meal. If the earth never had a 24-hour rotation, life on this third planet from the sun would be impossible. What are the chances? None, unless the hand of God brought it all into being.

Many centuries ago, a wise man with acute critical thinking skills said the following in prayer to God,



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,

or the son of man that You care for him?

Psalm 8:3,4 BSB


 

 


 

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Jim McCrory

What’s It Like to Be a Robin?

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Monday, 25 Nov 2024, 17:32

 

 


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What’s It Like to Be a Robin?

A robin knows neither clock nor calendar, yet its life is measured by seasons. It is born into a world of trembling branches and sky-framed nests, its first memories bathed in dappled light filtering through leaves. Its heart beats fast faster than we can imagine, a fragile engine of life that propels it through mornings of song and afternoons of flight. But what is it like to be a robin?

We humans project ourselves onto creatures, naming them harbingers of spring or symbols of resilience. To us, the robin is a poem in feathers, a red-breasted sentinel of hope. But does the robin think this of itself? Does it know it sings of renewal, that its presence reassures us when snow thaws and buds swell? Or is it simply following instinct, a clockwork piece in nature’s grand mechanism?

To be a robin is to live lightly on the earth, untethered by possessions or plans. Its world is small but complete: the tree, the worm, the nest, the wind. Its body is a perfect instrument, tuned for survival—its beak for plucking, its wings for soaring, its eyes sharp enough to see the faintest ripple of movement in the grass. It does not wrestle with meaning as we do; its purpose is woven into the fabric of its being.

Yet there is something deeply existential about its journey. A robin faces danger every day—a prowling cat, a sharp-beaked hawk, the chill of a late frost. And yet it sings. Each morning it offers its voice to the dawn, declaring its place in the world. This act feels almost defiant: a fragile creature proclaiming life in the face of constant uncertainty.

Does the robin fear? Likely not as we do, with our abstract terrors and distant anxieties. Its fears are immediate, visceral: the shadow overhead, the rustle in the underbrush. When the danger passes, it does not dwell. To be a robin is to live entirely in the present, fully absorbed in the demands of the moment.

But perhaps the robin knows something we do not. It dances with the wind, feeling its direction and strength as an intimate whisper. It perches on a branch that sways with the storm, yet it trusts that branch to hold. It migrates across oceans and continents, guided by a map we cannot see.

And so, to be a robin is to embody trust—trust in the air that lifts its wings, in the earth that yields its food, in the cycle of seasons that promises the return of warmth and abundance. It lives not for tomorrow but for the fullness of today, its life a fleeting hymn that fills the spaces between birth and death.

We wonder, then: who is truly richer—the robin, with its simple yet complete existence, or we, burdened with questions that often go unanswered? Perhaps the robin’s life is a mirror to our own, reflecting the beauty of simplicity, the art of presence, and the courage to sing despite the storm.

In the end, to be a robin is to live as a small, bright flame against the vastness of the sky—a reminder that life, though brief, is worth living with all the heart it can muster.


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Jim McCrory

Some Have Entertained Angels

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 28 June 2024, 12:20


Image by https://unsplash.com/@kazheard

I’m a writer. I became a writer because I don’t like the world I’m living in. Therefore, I desire to write about the more positive qualities in humans. I like to create my own world.

Does your heart tremble like Areola Borealis when someone who is kind approaches you? We all know that feeling.

I recall being in Pisa, Italy, and a family of strangers invited my wife and I to join them. In Rome, a group of Filipinos offered me food.

One day I was walking on one of the Scottish islands and a man invited my wife and I to join him for a coffee. This happens often when I’m on Scotland’s Western islands.

My wife was in a baker’s shop in the UK. She ordered a coffee. She then realised her credit card did not work. The girl behind offered to pay for it.

There are two kinds of kindness. The random acts of kindness that is kind, but works on a pay-back paradigm, that of feeling happy that you have done so. However, there are people who are considerate and kind just because that’s the way they are, and that’s the way it should be.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Hebrews13:2 (Berean Standard Bible).


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Jim McCrory

Modern Slavery

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday, 29 June 2024, 10:57



Image by https://unsplash.com/@britishlibrary

On a four-hour stopover at Middle Eastern Airport. I wake from a dream and enter a daze.

Before me, pass seven  men. Angelic looking. Slender in their long white robes. It’s like they’re going down to the river to pray.

Following at a safe distance are the seven wives with carefully balanced luggage on their heads.


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Jim McCrory

What Henning Mankell Taught Me About Writing: Part One

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Thursday, 14 Mar 2024, 19:58




Image by https://unsplash.com/@linalitvina

I’m a bit of a Swedophile. Back in the mid nineties my family were invited to have a holiday with Swedish friends. Since then, I have travelled to Sweden several times. As a reader and writer, I keep my eye on Swedish authors that may deepen my understanding of the culture.

In 2014, I read Henning Mankell’s nonfiction work Quicksand: What it Means to be a Human Being. It was a watershed moment for me; I had a deep desire to write about my life, but I harboured mixed feelings about how interesting it would be. These essays planted in me ideas of a different way of writing memoir.

Quicksand, Mankell’s final work before he died, covered the months after a terminal cancer diagnosis. My first impression was the essay titles. Themes such as “The Raft of Death” and “Turning Time in a Different Direction” were captivating. He filled the 67 personal essays with fascinating facts, philosophy, environmental issues, and cavernous musings. The intimacy of his first-person, active sentence structure made me feel he granted me the honour of sitting beside him like a child as his wisdom and literary prowess unfolded.

In all his essays, there is conspicuous lucidity and efficient syntax as a stylistic default. The language is spare but riveting in its beauty. Like a seasoned poet, words are carefully selected. Adjectives and adverbs are minimal. Strong verbs are relegated to the rear of the sentence, and passive sentence structure is sparse. He has this ability to crystallise deep concepts. These factors were all important to me. As an academic essayist in Social Psychology and English literature, I failed to produce encouraging results due to a lack of clarity. “Too much verbosity,” a tutor kindly pointed out. Mankell was influential in giving me the confidence to enter creative writing with faith in my ability to overcome past error and write clear work, but at the same time, keep the reader captivated.

The person projected, or the persons that Mankell has chosen to project throughout the sixty-seven essays are those of whose tone John Burnside of The Guardian described as “serious” (Burnside, 2014). Mankell writes, “Your identity is formed when you decide your attitude towards serious questions. That is something known to everyone who has not forgotten all about their childhood” (2014, p.14). This earnest tone has merit, as it best portrays Mankel’s subject matter. However, seriousness is not to be confused with gloomy or depressing. Essays that deal with a fatal cancer diagnosis, nuclear waste disposal, premature death, and wider issues concerning man’s irrational choices could by all intents and purposes gravitate to the negative, but this work is by no means an author driven by a Cassandra Syndrome, rather, amidst a debilitating, or what would be for many, a debilitating diagnosis, Mankell maintains a positive, uplifting literary decorum.

“I’m in the middle of something” he writes (2014, p. 8). This suspended state that he finds himself in is crucial in the development as an organising principle in his book. Quicksand, the title essay sets the motif that structures the entire work. I recall a reflective question on my MA Creative Writing module posed to the reader to choose three essays and explain what makes them essayistic? Interesting. I looked at Quicksand’s title essay. I broke it down to its components and scenes:

The shrinking realisation that cancer encroaches on life.

The first realisation from a childhood memory that death is a serious business.

Another childhood memory of seeing a village girl falling and dying through ice.

The reaction of parents of the girl and the community at large.

The author’s worst fear, the fear of falling into quicksand.

The myth of quicksand challenged (2014, pp.14-17).

These essayistic digressive forays come at all angles as he appears to move in a seemingly discursive way, but masterly calculated as he brings them to a conclusion. Additionally, his choice of narrative framing and structure, including flashbacks and flash forwards to his childhood self and present self, work to create arcs and control pace and tension and ultimately surprises the reader.


Part Two Tomorrow.






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Jim McCrory

Hello Stranger!

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Sunday, 30 June 2024, 10:23

Edward Hirsch is a poet and teacher I have always enjoyed reading about and listening to. So, when I spent four days on the Black Isle in the Scottish Highlands, I took a copy of his book How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry. It’s not your average intro to poetry, he takes the reader into considerable depths.



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Edward Hirsch is a poet and teacher I have always enjoyed reading about and listening to. So, when I spent four days on the Black Isle in the Scottish Highlands, I took a copy of his book How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry. It’s not your average intro to poetry, he takes the reader into considerable depths.

However, among other things, I was caught up with his discussion of a few simple lines of William Whitman’s poem called “To You”. The poem addresses the stranger:

“Stranger, if you are passing, meet me and desire to speak to me,

Why should you not speak to me?

And why should I not speak to you?"

Here Whitman invites the reader to stop and pause.

It was interesting in that it transferred me into the moment as I sat reading in our campsite and observing strangers who would pass. Strangers from the Netherlands, France, Germany, England, and Scotland. With a nod, a hello, a hesitant good morning, these visitors from other lands hoped for an interchange. After all, they come, not just to view the landscape, but the culture. What better way other than absorb themselves in human contact?

Sadly, we have strangers at their best; they’re on holiday, they’re free from the stress, anxieties and challenges of life back home. We find each other at our best; we are peaked in human energy, emotion, and joy. We take delight in what each other has to offer.

On the way back from the Highlands, we stopped for a break at Glencoe. I saw a young lad on the grass reading.

“May I ask, what are you reading?” Suffice to say, he was glad I asked as he overflowed with admiration for the writer.

Two humans, four decades apart, but bonded in conversation.

One of the greatest conversations with apparent strangers took place in Luke 24:14-35,

Luke 24 BSB (biblehub.com)



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Jim McCrory

Pray, Tell Me Your Favourite Spring Song

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday, 29 June 2024, 11:00

Do you have a favourite spring song? Let me know. My one is Runrig's Maymorning. Living 59% North, the first signs of spring brings joy. 

I'm alive once more  on this spring  morning

*****


Runrig

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOr-8zyTD-g


Okay, it's not quite may, but early signs are appearing Lat weekend, my wife and I got the hacking books polished and set of to Inveraray and Corran for the weekend. Here are a few images:








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Jim McCrory

In the Hall of the Cyber Hive

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday, 29 June 2024, 10:53




Image by https://unsplash.com/@mariolagr

When I say trolls, I don’t mean The Hall of the Mountain King, Solveig, Peer Gynt and all those characters that appear in Ibsen’s Peer Gynt. No, I mean Internet trolls. Although both types have something in common: Ibsen’s trolls would hide behind rocks and cyber trolls hide anonymously behind their identities.

The modern word troll comes from the idea behind fishing trolling. The vessels troll along the sea looking for a catch.

The same applies with the cyber troll, they cast a bait and wait for a response. They are really creatures to be pitied. Behind their aggression and hostility is the need for attention. Therefore, they are best ignored as such comments are aimed at gathering followers. The advice that most sources recommend:

However, if I was ever faced with one, and I haven't on any of my websites, albeit I have other problems (see end of article), I would consider just being kind to them and ask they Why are you being so hostile? It may just help them self-reflect. That would be a good thing; helping another human to be human.

However, there is the option of contacting the organisation hosting and reporting them. You can also make light of the situation. Or just don’t give them a platform. Most blogs allow you to instantly delete them. On my website I have to "approve" comments before they appear on it.

However, matters can become more serious and involving the law when trolls cross the line. This would be the case with harassment, hate or threatening speech, cyberstalking  as in the case of dragging sites.

I began writing to explore the more positive example of human nature, but here I am exposing the negative, ugly side.



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Jim McCrory

Yiddish Proverb

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 8 Mar 2024, 15:36

"If God lived on the earth, people would break his windows."

                                                                                                           ------------ Sholem Aleichem

        

      Image by https://unsplash.com/@sixteenmilesout

There’s a story told about two birds toiling every day as they prepared their nest for their forthcoming chicks. 

On seeing this, the farmer came out and knocked the nest down. Looking puzzled at their return, the birds carried on in their rebuilding. But the next day, the farmer returned and knocked the nest down once more.

This process went on for some days until one person came out and scolded the farmer for his cruelty. It was then that the farmer explained that the tree was diseased and in the forthcoming storm, it would collapse, taking the chicks with it.

Sometimes we can judge a matter without knowing the motives of the person involved. As for God, we do not fully know why he permits suffering. However, there are hints in Geneses chapter 1, Job chapter 1 and the following verse.

“For the creation was subjected to futility, not by its own will, but because of the One who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.”

Romans 8:20,21 (BSB).



The Holy Bible, Berean Standard Bible, BSB is produced in cooperation with Bible HubDiscovery BibleOpenBible.com, and the Berean Bible Translation Committee. This text of God's Word has been dedicated to the public domain.

 



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Jim McCrory

Doživljaj and a Stroll through a Scottish Graveyard

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Sunday, 30 June 2024, 10:28

My wife and I had a short break in the Scottish West Highlands at the 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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Jim McCrory

The Transience of Joy

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Image by Image by https://unsplash.com/@ellladee

One weekend, I drove to Wemyss Bay and boarded a ferry to the Island of Bute. I walked from the town, up the Serpentine, stopping to take a picture of the iconic ‘VR’ post-box, a relic of bygone days. I passed Eastland Farm and arrived at Canada Hill.

I settled in a secluded spot; a place where, in my youth, I often sought solace on lonely evenings. I frequently grappled with a deep sense of loneliness that overwhelmed me. At times, preferring solitude rather than being with unkind humans — a choice I felt compelled to make. The familiarity of the place caused me to wander back into a special moment in those days.

It was the seventies, and I must have been thirteen. Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival was in the charts. Seated there with the majestic Firth of Clyde to the left and Loch Ascog on my right and the celestial firmament above. I witnessed a shooting star streak across the skyline, and I felt it was meant for me. I became spiritually aware as I was enveloped by some sort of celestial wonder. An extreme sense of contentment, of joy, of happiness overwhelmed me. I no longer felt alone.

C.S. Lewis described these spiritual moments using the German word Sehnsucht — a deep, intense longing linked to joy that passes momentarily like the particles in a snow globe but leaves one with an insatiable longing. I had a glimpse of joy in the full sense of what the creator meant it to be for the human family.

I’m convinced it was a longing that can only be satisfied in a future life. In other words, the momentary joy is a snapshot of a future perfect and indefinite joy that can only be fulfilled in the future paradise Jesus spoke of in Luke 13:43. No other experience can deliver the full impact of what Sehnsucht gives us a glimpse of.


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'We know that God does not listen to sinners'

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Consider,

For Nathanael, it all began with those fashion magazines his sisters would leave around the house. The female body held mysteries for an adolescent boy. Soon, this gravitated to internet pornography to the point of becoming a firmly embedded addiction. He never felt good about himself afterwards. He would pray for forgiveness, but felt God was not there.

 *****

Ann goes into the supermarket. When no one is looking, she slips a bar of chocolate into her back pocket of her jeans. That evening, she prays to God to help her win the lottery.

*****

Sharon, was an evangelical ‘Christian.’ She would spend her days making sacrifices by going out preaching. However, at night, she would call her friends and relate the latest gossip — Gossip that often gravitated to slander.

There were considerable moments of doubt she often felt about her relationship with God, but that soon diminished when she had another day of preaching. After all, God would overlook the bad for the good, she reasoned.

*****

Sin will always put distance between God and us. When Jesus cured the young blind man in John chapter 9, in conversation with the pharisees, the man replied, ‘We know that God does not listen to sinners.’

How true, at Isaiah 59:2, we read, It’s your sins that have cut you off from God. Because of your sins, he has turned away and will not listen anymore.’

We find in 1 John 3:9 that John writes, ‘No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God's seed abides in him; and he cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God.’

We will always find a listening ear with God so long as we put away sin and practice what is right.

 

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.


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Kids, Who Would Have Them

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday, 18 Sept 2024, 16:33



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When I was ten, my mother caught me running along the apex on the roof of a condemned Glasgow tenement. She instantly froze with fear.

“Don’t shout”, my older sister said, “He might fall off.”

I never realised she saw me and when I returned home, she stood with her hand on her hip and looking like one of those Easter Island statues. Still, she then smiled with relief.

I had been looking for lead on the roof to take to the scrap merchants to get some pocket money.

On another occasion, I joined a bunch of local boys who were banging through a basement of another condemned building. Someone said something about treasure — Indiana Jones, eat your heart out—, sure we found treasure:

36 pairs of women’s briefs

14 Bras

46 kitchen towels

12 table mats

It was all nonsense, but that’s what the police put on the court summons.

Fortunately, my high school first year science teacher came to the rescue. He knew we would never be Nobel Prise Winners, so he taught us to make fishing rods, then hired a minibus and took us all to the Clydebank canal to fish for goldfish. Yes, that’s right, goldfish. Apparently, during the war, the Glasgow folks couldn’t locate fish food, so they deposited the fish in the canal. Due to it being close to the Singer sowing machine factory, the fish thrived in the warm waters.

Now that I had the fishing bug, Sammy, Tam, and I would head over to Loch Libo and the Barrhead dams and fish every weekend.

Bless you Mr … You changed my life in more ways than you ever will know.

Sometimes my parents must have regretted having me, but all went well in the end. I lost my father soon after that due to a respiratory illness. I’d like to think we will meet again. He died not knowing what kind of person I became.

 


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Me Thinks He’s a Sociopath

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday, 18 Sept 2024, 16:35


 

Image by https://unsplash.com/@kellysikkema

When I did my English Literature module, one of the works was Shakespeare’s Othello. It broke my heart. One becomes attached to him and then wonders, why was he so naïve to be taken in by Lago?

Lago was the ensign of Othello. His deceitfulness and destructiveness orchestrated the downfall of Othello. He tricked Othello into believing his wife, Desdemona, was unfaithful. A sinister and psychologically complex antagonist who specialised in sowing discord.

I felt so sorry for Othello when I got to the end. But that’s what happens in good fiction. You believe it.

But fiction it was. Or was it?

Shakespeare drew on real life for sure. He knew the profile of sociopaths: manipulative, liars, selfish, lacking empathy for fellow humans, self-serving, deceitful, aggressive and untrustworthy.

We know them. They could be in the workplace, the family, or the church. Any station of life.

Nature or nature is the big unanswered question.

If you are close to someone who exhibits such antisocial behaviour, it would be a kindness to encourage them to seek help.

 


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Kreng Jai and the feelings of others

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Thursday, 25 Jan 2024, 10:51


 Image by https://unsplash.com/@timwildsmith

Trying to get to the bottom of this Thai word is like herding frogs. There are so many angles of understanding linked to it. My wife and I have friends, the wife being Thai, so, the next time we see her, I will discuss this paradoxical word.

It’s a word that’s close to my heart. Like most of us, I don’t cope too well with tension in all its forms, including passive aggressiveness, toxic language, harsh words, and the like. I usually excuse myself. As I get older, that feeling has become more intense.

Empathy is a quality that is deeply lacking in society as narcissism, self-interest and selfishness have made inroads into this broken society.

My wife and I were reading the Bible this morning and afterwards, she asked, ‘What is your favourite Bible verse?’ This is our joy—the wandering musings of the mind.

‘Psalm15,’ I said. We read it. It’s all about being human. To be more specific, it is God’s message to humans regarding moral values towards God and our fellow man.

It speaks about being blameless. Speaking truth from the heart. Words that utter no slander. Who does no wrong to their neighbour. Who keeps promises. Who cannot be bribed, and so on.

This brings me back to that Thai word. Deeply embedded in Thai society’s consciousness is empathy for neighbour. I like that, it’s the way we all should live.

You can read more about Psalm 15 in the following link:

Psalm 15 (biblehub.com)


Have a good day.

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The Night I shared a Vision With a Shepherd Boy

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Tuesday, 11 June 2024, 09:21

“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars and see yourself running with them.”

― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations




Somewhere, just somewhere, between our atmosphere and infinity, there are stars, seven thousand of them to see with the naked eye. But they can only be seen from the right place. I was brought up amidst the dark Glasgow Clydeside tenements where life had a sepia-tone dullness like that of a Victorian photo and stars were what I read about in children’s books.

It was when I travelled to the Scottish islands in summer that I realised there lay a starlit sky full of wonder away from the light polluted city.

Last winter on a crisp, icy Saturday evening, we booked into a hotel in Newton Stewart and after our chicken bhuna and peshawari naan, we set off to visit the Dark Sky Forest at Kirroughtree Visitors Centre in Dumfries and Galloway. The place was as dark as…you know what I mean. Apart from a few stargazers with campervans and a Chinese astronomer, we were the only ones there. We took a walk to a quiet place and there we found ourselves alone with seven thousand stars, every one of them.

So many emotions filled my soul: loneliness, awesomeness, wonder, and the knowledge I was staring into a distant past that no longer existed in the form I was observing. I knew I was not alone; sometime in 1000 BC, give or take a century, a shepherd boy sat on a hill at a time when the whole earth was a dark sky location and he asked the creator of all these stars a question, poetically,

When I consider your heavens,

The work of your finger,

The moon and the stars,

Which you have set in place,

What is mankind that you are mindful of them,

Human beings that you care for them?

Psalm 8:3-6 NIV


In the hustle and bustle of life, take time to stop stroking your mobiles and walk with the stars; you are sharing history with others.


  Kirroughtree Visitor Centre - Forestry and Land Scotland


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Fùhuó (复活) And Those Lost at Sea

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Tuesday, 11 June 2024, 09:23






When I was in my late teens, I became interested in learning Scottish Gaelic. And like any language, you learn of the culture and history of the people.

I became fascinated by a story centred around the Gaelic speaking islanders on the Island of Lewis on Scotland’s west coast. I read a book about HMY Iolaire. This was a vessel that was returning to the island on January 1, 1919.

On board were no ordinary group of passengers, but 283 men who were returning from WW1. They looked forward to making up on the lost years of absence; the simple pleasures of sitting by a warm fire and catching up with their loved one. But this was not to be, the waters were hostile that day and the captain struggled to negotiate a safe passage. Suddenly, the ship struck rocks and 201 of the 283 men perished.

What makes this more tragic is the fact that they spent many years dodging bullets, not to mention deprivation and suffering, and yet, when home seemed a few minutes away, their dreams were shattered.

When the bodies were recovered, a very human story emerged. In their pockets were toys. Yes, toys. Toys for their children whom they had dearly missed. Gifts that would re-establish the lost years with their little ones. Similar sad episodes have been repeated worldwide, from the cold Atlantic to the China Sea and from the Artic Ocean to the Indian Ocean. These oceans have claimed untold multitudes. I’m comforted by the hope that’s expressed in Revelation 12:12,13

"And there were open books. One of them was the Book of Life…The sea gave up its dead, and Death and the grave gave up their dead, and each one was judged according to his deeds."

In this great historical epoch, humanity will witness the joy of being reunited with friends, loved ones and faithful ones of old. And, of course, those lost in all the treacherous sea voyages. If I was to choose a word that captures this period, it would be the Chinese word Fùhuó for resurrection (复活). Carries with it is the thought of renaissances; a rebirth into the full realisation of these words promised by Jesus to the criminal: "Truly I tell you this day, you will be with me in paradise."


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Will God answer my prayer?

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday, 18 Sept 2024, 16:30

When I take a walk in the park, the beach, or a star filled sky in a winter’s evening, I see God all around. This planet has the footprint of a wise, benevolent architect.

Would God make all these provisions and not make himself available to his intelligent creatures?

There is a reassuring promise made in Acts 17: 26-28,

“From one man he made every nation of humanity to live all over the earth, fixing the seasons of the year and the national boundaries within which they live, so that they might look for God, somehow reach for him, and find him. Of course, he is never far from any one of us.” (New International Version).

Think about that last phrase that reads “he is never that far from any of us.” Think of some of the other expressions such as “Look for him”, “reach out”. Some translations say, “grope for him”.

These expressions highlight the need to seek God with an element of effort on our part. God is not there as a prayer wheel that we can attach a prayer and then never think about God again as we get on with our lives. There is a level of commitment to seeking God. It means reading his word, making every effort to harmonise our lives with God’s requirements.



Many years ago, I left the religious organisation I was affiliated with. It meant leaving people I had known all my life. It meant shaping a new identity. It meant finding new spiritual friendships.

One Sunday morning, I woke with a deep sense of loneliness. My wife and I decided to make this a heartfelt prayer to God.  Later that morning, we went on a historical walking tour in Edinburgh whilst keeping our hearts open to God’s response.

During the tour, there was a couple from England who were making eye contact with us and sharing the occasional light conversation with us.

At the end of the tour, I left my wife in the square and went to the toilet. When I returned, my wife said, “If we wait here, the couple we were talking with would like to have a coffee with us. They will return soon.”

Over the coffee, we discovered that they were Christians. We have kept in touch for over a decade, during which they have been a tremendous support in our Christian pathway.

It was some years later that I discovered that the reason they disappeared and came back that day was to seek God’s guidance. They felt the spirit of God guiding them to us despite not knowing the prayer we uttered that morning for friendships.

There are different ways that God answers prayers, and that will be dealt with in a future post.

 

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.


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Eternal wisdom made all things in love,

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"Eternal wisdom made all things in love,

By love are all bewildered.

Intoxicated by the wine of love."


The quote above is by the 7th century poet Farridudden Attar. He compares love with wine; intoxication and pleasurable. However, he attributes God as the maker of love (Eternal wisdom). And so be it because there are no other explanations why we, as humans, love. It’s another aspect of the moral human. It may be argued that love is an evolutionary provision to bring tribes and villages together. But there is a major flaw in the theory. Not only do some humans love their neighbour, but some humans love those they have never met.

Consider the billions of pounds that are donated to charities that minister to orphans, cancer research, developing nations, homeless, Christian Aid, Oxfam, and many others. Take a short bite out your day and watch the work of the Mercy Ships.

Mercy Ships: The Next Chapter | TBN UK - YouTube


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"Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe"

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday, 18 Sept 2024, 16:32

Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe,... the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me. ~ Immanuel Kant

If the Moral Law is not explainable by socialisation or an evolutionary hangover, then what do we account for its presence? Something truly subtle is going on here. C.S Lewis wrote the following:

“If there is a controlling power outside the universe, it could not show itself to us as one of the facts inside the universe-no more than the artifacts of a house could be a wall or staircase or fireplace in that house. The only way in which we could expect is to show itself would be inside ourselves as an influence or a command trying to tell us to behave in a certain way. And that is just what we do find inside ourselves. Surely, this ought to arouse our suspicions?”


The Word of God describes it this way,

They show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts sometimes accusing them and at other times even defending them- Romans 2:15 NIV

The conscience is often described negatively, but here in Romans, it defends or approves of a course of action. Could this explain the feel good factor that we experience when we do a kind act for others?

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Have You Been Hurt By Gossip?

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 7 June 2024, 19:56

As a child, I recall a strange ornament an old lady had on her mantle. It was three monkeys. One with his hands over his mouth, the other with his hands over his eyes, the other with his hands over his ears.

It wasn’t the fact that they were monkey I thought strange. It was the puzzling gestures; I couldn’t understand what it all meant despite the caption being “Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.”

It was some years later that I discovered the wisdom intended. Now, more than ever, there is a desperate need for young and old to counteract the tendency to gossip or slander. Many have taken their lives or fallen into depression because of spread rumours. In my case, I left the religious organisation I was affiliated with for this very reason. Not only because I found it hurtful, but because I found it a toxic environment.

Now why do people gossip? Sometimes it’s innocent, it may be curiosity. Some gossip to raise their self-esteem. After all, by putting others down, you raise yourself due to pride. Some gossip to be accepted by the group. Some gossip because of hatred or malicious intent.

James 1:26 reads, “If anyone thinks he is religious without controlling his tongue, his religious is useless, and he deceives himself.” (CSB see footnote).

If you find yourself in such a toxic environment, turn around and walk away. It’s not so easy if it’s the family, the congregation or the workplace, friends or the internet, but make every effort to avoid being drawn in or being hurt by such ones. Additionally, search yourself and ask, “Have I hurt my neighbour by gossiping?” If so, correct it. James showed that your relationship with God is otherwise hindered.

(Scripture quotations marked CSB have been taken from the Christian Standard Bible®, Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible® and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.)


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The Thoughts That Troubled Dostoevsky

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 25 Oct 2024, 10:48


In 2010, I picked my copy of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov from my bookshelf. I had made a few attempts at it, but with life’s interruptions, the eight hundred pages were daunting. I now felt guilty that I had not read a book that was influential to so many writers and readers. A quick read would take me, a slow reader, about 30 hours, but this was not a book to dart through. It contained depths of philosophical thought.

There is the adage, ‘It takes a worried man to sing a worried song.’ It was of no surprise that a Google search for images of Dostoevsky revealed a middle-aged man with an unkempt beard and receding hairline. A skeletal face. Serious, with an ailing complexion. A profile revealing the tell-tale face of a man who experienced considerable injustices.  Diagnosed with Grand Mal Epilepsy as a teenager, a last-minute reprieve from a firing squad, exiled to Siberia, death of his second wife whom he loved, death of his child from an epileptic convulsion and the distress of raising a troubled teenager.

However, if the Karamazov book is anything to go by, it was the existential angst that troubled Dostoevsky later years. Mourning the repeated inhumanity of Russian society, he inevitably turned to thoughts of Divine justice. A question that is as relevant today as it was two centuries ago.

When he was exiled to Siberia, an old widow supplied him and his fellow prisoner’s hospitality. She signalled out Dostoevsky and gifted him with a Bible. He later wrote, in his letters ‘I am a child of this age, the child of disbelief and doubt, until now and even to the grave. What a terrible torment this thirst for faith has taught me, and now cost me, which is stronger in my soul, the more in me the arguments to the contrary’ The Bible, she gave him, was still in his possession at his death.

Fascinating that The Brothers Karamazov was, despite careful reading, I never found that attributed phrase where Alisha said to his atheist brother, ‘If there is no God, then all things are permissible.’ The problem lies in the translation it seems. Nonetheless, the aphorism stands as a valuable argument for objective morality and the personal God. Why does something exist rather than not exist? Why are humans who are apparent chemicals that have come about in the big cosmic game of chance directed by this virtue called justice? Is all the goodness and wickedness carried out by humans all for nothing? Are the acts carried out by Pol Pot, Putin, Stalin, and others, permissible? Will there not be a great judgement? If we are alone in this dark universe the anything goes. But we’re not alone.

We are governed by an invisible force that bends towards justice. We feel it in our lives daily. I say bends because we are free moral agents on a level playing field where goodness and wickedness meet. There’s too much wickedness for God to exist some might say. But isn’t the reverse also true? There’s considerable goodness.

Why would any virtue exist in a universe that just happened? I see medical staff going to war-torn countries and risking life to provide care for those who are not their kin. What about Ignacio Echeverría, the 39-year-old Spanish lawyer who confronted the terrorists in the 2017 London Bridge attacks and sacrificing his athletic future and life in the process? There’s the stranger who sacrifices a kidney for the person he will never meet. The millions of charitable givers who make life more endurable for orphans in Brazil, the Philippines, Bangladesh, and other parts of the world. These acts defy the theory of reciprocity allogrooming. These acts describe altruism in the true sense. Just pure, unconditional love. And history is filled with such acts.

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Saudade and the secrets we keep

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Sunday, 28 Apr 2024, 18:48

I have a deep secret. I am happy to tell you what it is so long as you don’t tell anyone. Is that a deal? This is my secret. I love children’s books; at my age I should no better, but its an addiction . I love them so much that I changed my degree from a Literature Degree to an Open Degree to accommodate EA300 Children’s Literature.

Gyo Fujikawa is the most addictive for me. Children in paradise, in tree houses, gentle fairies and children no bigger than polka-dot toadstool.

https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/how-gyo-fujikawa-drew-freedom-in-childrens-books

Then there’s Astrid Lindgren’s The Children of Noisy Village. I’m a Swedophile who can speak a bit of Swedish and I am in awe of the beauty and setting where the tale is filmed. An age of innocence. Swedish village life that will never return. 

https://tv.apple.com/no/movie/the-children-of-noisy-village/umc.cmc.13bmjs0xgg1sv8sju2tv3za5j

There’s the Portuguese word that best explains my longing to enter a world that these stories encapsulate, Saudade,  a longing or nostalgia for something that cannot be realised.

I guess the reason such stories appeal is the desire to escape mentally from this broken world. C.S. Lewis wrote:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

Interesting, but what world did C.S Lewis mean? Did he mean the world of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe? No, he was a Christian and an academic who wrote children’s books, Christian, apologetic and academic books. The world he was thinking of was the world recorded in Luke 23:43 “Truly I say to you today, you will be with Me in Paradise.”

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