Archive | March, 2014


28 Mar

two geese walk in my fog
their Heath

I walk
Stop for a moment to realise how
joyous I am

to be


the heath, hampstead 6 am

24 Mar
tears of morning dew, frost

tears of morning dew, frost

note: I have been walking the Heath in Hampstead during the early mornings. Today, as I refflected on John 19:28 ‘I am thirsty’ I saw and felt the the ground in the sun’s rays shining, in light. My Lord Jesus, who thirsted, created this Heath, this dew. All drink from His well. We drink cleanly in, from, His waters. Here is the piece, the poem I wrote

the grey baby gap hat with
yellow planes
either side
on a fallen tree post

a few paces up
a Baby Blue teething ring lies open
face up crying for
a mouth,
perhaps, hers? my charlotte?

the Heath absorbs all
their masters
the frost; the sun, an ale can, from, perhaps,
Keats’ and his night of drinking when he
‘that I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
/and with thee fade away into the forest dim:’

fade, fade my Heath, fade


talks, worship with, in time; worship in, with monies

17 Mar

Below are links to two talks I gave this month of March. One in Cambridge on 9 March and the other at St. Luke’s in Kentish Town  yesterday, 16 March. Themes?

the first at C3 church is about how one moment, one quick moment, encompasses

many, many moments. It is here:

the second was at my home church, St. Luke’s. It may be posted later this week; then you can find it  here:

Yesterday, I spoke about stewardship of monies; the tithe as worship. One principle, one theme, and it can be seen in one word, ‘All.’

Worship all ways points us to Him; worship always moves us ‘to do;’ to respond to Him.

For me, worship comes through experiencing the word, in, with Him.


John Cahill, a bronx hero

13 Mar

Looking at my chart the attending said,

Your GP is John Cahill. He’s in the hospital tonight. Let me get him.

Bushy eyebrows, quietly smart, insightful, I knew Cahill for eight years. He cared. He worked in an underserved area in NYC and he cared for the little people, the bus drivers, the mothers and the immigrant. He came to the emergency room and he performed a rectal. He found nothing.

But he wanted to get a colleague to examine me. I can’t remember that doctor’s name today. The pain had stopped though and I was getting ready to go home. The pain had stopped because my appendicitis had brust. I was dying. But I felt good. I only stayed because Cahill asked me to stay.

His colleague came in; I braced myself for another rectal; this MD touched my side with two fingers and said,

You are in Acute Appendicitis attack. We’re operating.

I asked for three minutes to move my orange volkswagen to the correct side of the street; but I really wanted to see the night sky one more time in case I died. I called my church home group and asked them to pray.

They operated. John Cahill saved my life because he cared enough to realise he did not know enough to let me go. He was humble enough to get someone smarter than he, or more skilled.

Cahill retired last year. He was about 80 years. Only multiple heart attacks stopped him from his practice. Thin, Irish and a great reader. Father of three daughters. He cared. Deeply. My hero.

A hero



to do

7 Mar

to do

to do

this March you all be getting two Lulus
Why? Those of you who know Priscilla and I well will know that I can work here in part because I am an Irish citizen. Priscilla was born in Galway (see link here
For her story) and I am simply riding on her coat tails. (PS I love when we went to Ireland and I met friendly Irish blokes who said to me ‘Where are you from?’ I said-‘Here-Ireland.’ They laughed and I pulled out my passport and showed it to them. I love their faces: surprised; questioning; confused) so, on 17 March you will be getting our Second St. Pat’s day Lulu… Till then here is Priscilla on her work here.

Dear Family and Friends,
When my Elizabeth was about 18 months old, she would follow me around the house as I did my daily chores. She would look up at me with those big brown eyes and ask, “doing?” Of course, she wanted to do it too. She wanted to be with me in my doing.
So, now I will share with you what I am doing and be comforted in the knowledge that you will be with me.

We have been involved in our church in Kentish Town, St Luke, slowly getting to really know the good people there and their needs. I have been praying and studying with several young women. We meet individually (once a week or so on average) and try to seek the light of God’s word. I am learning with them and am thankful. This last month we have been studying Philemon, and listening to Paul appealing to Philemon to forgive Onesimus, his runaway slave. Paul say’s “for loves sake I appeal to you on the basis of love.”
I guess I am sharing this with you all because this dear young lady told me that her Mum taught her that she needs to say “God bless you” to those who hurt her. My friend, this young woman, said that once, when really hurt, she went to go for a bike ride, another friend of hers, not knowing she was hurt, said “God Bless you.” She said it was like entering into a thin place where heaven touches earth, where God comes in. So this is one very special thing I am doing. Doing.

One of the other wonderful things I am able to do is to discover beautiful places. Kenwood House is a beautiful estate very close to our home. It is one of the thin places where I can go and worship, study, bring these dear friends and think of you. I go there with some of these young women to study and pray. It is all lovely and free!

God bless you all in all your doings. Rejoice with me as I share with you, as we share in the thin places as this young girl has taught me.

Love Priscilla
And Charlie

my hero

5 Mar


our-Priscilla and my dear dear her/friend #2 and hero is …is Pat Ciminera my second and very personal hero. Why ?

Pat had an aggressive bowel cancer. Unusually, she was a close friend to both Priscilla and I and navigated the gender friendships skilfully.

When she was diagnosed with cancer, as a friend, I asked her

‘What could I can I do?’ For you?’
She responded,
‘The only thing I ask of you is do, please speak at at my memorial/funeral/celebration service.’ Please do all for me.
My heart sank.

Love. Yes.
Speak at your funeral? When I am a wreck? Crying?

No. No No.

I looked her in the eye and said, ‘yes.’

No one
No one can love I you more than a dear friend who gives you, who asks you, a big ‘Ask’ and can never return the request. No one.
‘My hero.'(from Betty Boop…

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‘my heroes’

3 Mar
all in

my hero

Today, I am beginning a new series on, ‘my heroes.’ I have a small group of heroes I look to and each for a different reason. First, today, there is Allen Iverson, a former Georgetown and NBA Philly ’76er basketball player. Why is he my hero?

He left nothing on the floor; he gave it all. I am sure he was in all on/with/to all he did. I am also sure that was one of his problems and why he gambled away a fortune and drank to excess. By his nature, he is all in. That is who he is.

When I travel by plane in my Iverson Georgetown jersey and when I go through airport security, at least one male officer yells at me when I go thru: ‘Practice? Practice?’ This is from a famous sound bite from a news conference after his coach Larry Brown talked about Allen missing practice. Allen’s point: I am all in when it counts; the game. Larry’s point: practice.

Security officers get it; they get him. Philly went crazy on Saturday when the Sixers retired his jersey.Why? Because he was all in. A hero; my hero.

Gary Smith writes on Allen and Larry Brown here, It is a great article.