By Leo Boucher. All rights reserved; used with permission.
Autumn is a time of glorious colors, as I was reminded last week when I spent time in the Upper Midwest of America. Glorious oranges and yellows peppered the browns and greens in the tree-line, which I noticed even more because London doesn’t afford such striking colors. I’ve heard that the difference in temperature from warm days to cool nights produces the amazing displays.
I suppose this can be true in our own lives. When we move from extreme temperatures, whether through grief or change or some other reason, we can look to God to bring forth his beauty in and through us as we walk through the changes or time of testing. If we’ve committed our lives to him, he will be doing this work already, and often we aren’t aware ourselves of how he’s moving within us. But others can see the fruit of the Spirit, the glorious gifts of autumn.
How today can you commit yourself to God, asking him to reflect his love and life within you? In terms of my dad’s painting, what speaks to you within it?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
For the love of a horse…
Today, why not ponder the amazing creatures God has given us to enjoy – horses, dogs, cats, and so many wild creatures. They can enrich our lives through their love and service.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
Pause for a moment and breathe. Imagine you’re on a calm lake, and the sun will soon set. Hints of the glorious colors the sky will morph into in moments appear, the pinks and reds beckoning. You inhale the sweet scent of calm, wanting to enjoy the moment, reveling in the wonder of God’s creation. You let your cares fall away, even if for just a short slice of time. You whisper a prayer of thanks, that God has given you this gift of being, of enjoying, of wonder.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
Autumn can take me by surprise. Maybe part of that relates to us enjoying the school holidays and then returning to work and school routines with a bang. At least that’s how it was this year, with us going in quick succession over the summer to Minnesota, then a spell at home, and then Wales and Spain, returning the night before school started the next morning. We had reasons for the packed travel schedule, and I knew it would be good but taxing in its own way. And it was.
So from hot and sunny Spain back to the UK with its days of sunshine morphing into wind and rain. A quick landing as we settled our youngest into her new secondary school, and then the surprise at the end of the first week hearing she’d been given a place at her favored secondary school and the ensuing change. The dust seems to be settling as the days begin to draw in.
Autumn – and winter – will come, whether or not we’re ready. What do you need or want to do to welcome the season?
By Leo Boucher. Shared with permission; all rights reserved.
Time on a boat affords much thought, if you’re a solitary rower like the one in this painting by my dad. As we turn to autumn, why not take some time to reflect over your summer. What were some highlights? Lowlights? How did you react to them? How did you sense God moving in and through you during the highs and lows – and all the times in between? As you take some time to reflect, consider what speaks to you in the painting.
For me, summer involved travel. Times to see loved ones making new and precious memories; times to experience new places and sights; times to remember that as physical beings, we get tired and hungry and need some down time. The tree stretching across the water tells me that God erects a shelter over me, to provide relief from the baking sun and reminds me to sink my roots deeply into the rich soil, that I might access his living water.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
Summer can be a time for tourism, with people indulging in things that they wouldn’t do at home – like taking a ride in a horse-driven carriage. Does this sound like fun to you?
What I like about this watercolor by my dad is that it’s a study for a more involved painting. I like the spare strokes and white space. How can you fill your life with more white space?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Have you eased fully into summer? We’ve had the longest day, and the 4th of July, and for Americans it may feel like half of the summer is over. Yet my kids aren’t even out of school yet! So our official summer holidays aren’t here yet, but soon and very soon will be.
Today I’m looking at this painting by my dad of what may be a river in the Midwest of America as I think about fresh water and warm evenings and beautiful, colorful skies.
By CutiePyeGirl from a few years ago – perfect for Watercolor Wednesday!
Happy Independence Day! The day has a multitude of meanings for me, not least as the day I felt called away from my county of birth, as I wrote in Finding Myself in Britain:
When Nicholas and I contemplated marriage, we each went on a quiet retreat to pray and seek God’s guidance about the potential union. I finished my time away on the Fourth of July, later joining the throngs celebrating Independence Day with fireworks, food, and friends on the Mall in Washington, DC. But that morning I was in rural Maryland, reading about Abraham, the stranger who lived in a foreign country. The text of Hebrews 11 came alive in an amazing yet disconcerting way, for I felt that I, too, was being called to a new land.
As Nicholas was studying to be a Church of England vicar, I knew that in melding our lives together, I would need to be the one to leave behind my life in the States. But until that retreat, I hadn’t considered the deeper implications of what such a move might entail. I hadn’t noticed before that Abraham was obedient in going to this new place: “By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8). In the flush of the first stages of romantic love, it didn’t seem a hardship to be obedient to a move to a foreign land – especially such an exciting and olde worlde place dripping with history as Britain. I was blissfully unaware of the costs involved, and that my obedience would need to come later in accepting, with grace and without bitterness or complaining, what I had signed up to.
Like Abraham, I didn’t know where we were going; Cambridge was the first stop, but that would be for only a short time while Nicholas finished up his studies before ordination. I didn’t know then that I would be moving four times in five years, and thus would be a wanderer like Abraham. This moving brought upheavals and uprootedness, but over time God answered my pleas for belonging, a few friends, and even a fabulous job.
But on that Independence Day what struck me deeply was that I was leaving my earthly citizenship behind – instead I’d be a foreigner and stranger and would need to claim my heavenly citizenship. Like the heroes of faith listed in Hebrews 11, I would be looking for a country of my own; a “better one – a heavenly one.” I would have my American passport, and eventually a British one too, but my heavenly passport would denote my defining identity.
From Finding Myself in Britain (Authentic Media, 2015). Available in the UK from Christian bookshops, or online from Eden and Amazon. Available Stateside from Amazon.
I’ve shared this watercolor before, but as I’m actually in Spain, looking at this very view in the evening from the balcony outside my room, it feels fitting to share it again.
We’re retreating, looking at Paul’s letter to the Colossians, and exploring how we live in and for Christ. Group discussion, imaginative prayer, walking the labyrinth… it’s been a great week so far and we’ve got more to enjoy! Check out El Palmeral for more details – you won’t be sorry.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Soon I will go to Spain, to the lovely El Palmeral, where I’ll be leading a retreat when we delve into the book of Colossians. Such a lot to explore in just 95 verses! The incomparable Christ, living in Christ, living for Christ.
I’m sharing this painting of my dad’s today as I think about Spain, for I love the colors he uses. Although the Mediterranean climate means for a lot of brown, when I think of Spain I think in color – the vibrant bougainvillea and other flowers, the glimpses of glory painted in the sky as the sun sets. And as this painting shows, time to sit by some water and reflect and converse, enjoying God’s glories and each other.
If you can’t make it to a led retreat at El Palmeral, you could enjoy what they call a time-out retreat. You craft the time as you wish, such as the daily Celtic prayer in the outdoor chapel. Those who go, want to come back!
I’ve shared this watercolor before, but as I’m actually in Spain, looking at this very view in the evening from the balcony outside my room, it feels fitting to share it again.