Waking to the blush of dawn and birds singing, I lay here wishing for another half an hour before starting the day. It’s not yet six o’clock.
Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the world
As for the many who have trodden this path around the Sea of Galilee before me ‘wondering’ what Jesus may have been doing at various times of the day in his three years of ministry, thankfully, I am alone. And it’s springtime. And, it’s not dusty.
I heard a pastor ‘droning-on’ to a table of rapt twenty-somethings in the dining room last night about the dove and the spirit, and I thought; “Gee, I’m glad that I have this mini-pilgrimage to myself”. We all know the stories. I certainly don’t need to hear them simplified any further. Throw in a bit of singing and you might interest me. But I couldn’t be travelling for days on end with ‘holy-joes’.
The blooming poinciana around my hotel are a distraction to the beautiful sunrise. But, aren’t I lucky to have such a setting? I’m staying in what used to be the Doctor’s House in the old 19th century hospital in Tiberias. The Church of Scotland took it over and converted it into the Scots Hotel in 1999.
I have a spring in my step ready to continue the day – driving around the Capernaum and dropping in on other of the Christian sites.
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s re-creation of the new day
Across the other side of the Sea of Galilee is Syria, and an hour north is Lebanon. Jordan is to the east. I pray this day for those poor people, and for family and friends.
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