Holy Island II

The view from my pitch

I've titled this post 'Holy Island II' - I'm not entirely sure why as I'm not on Holy Island and I'm not really writing about it. However, I am looking toward Holy Island, reflecting back on my few hours there. My motorhome pitch is positioned today so that I can see Holy Island from the window where I type this. The sunlight in the evening is highlighting it as if it is something and somewhere that demands attention. Like a highlighter on a page in a book or on notes.

I've spent the late afternoon/evening sat outside starring at the view. I've had my supper looking out toward the coast and have now retreated inside as the wind wasn't really very pleasant. It's a shame in many respects as I was enjoying watching the birds dart around the field opposite and seeing the cloud formations change.

I've not been to Lindisfarne (Holy Island) since my childhood. Whilst I was at my mum's, there was a notebook out in which my dad made notes on every single camping holiday we took as a family. There in the listings were the three years in Northumbria, at a campsite just outside of Seahouses. Those were the few years when my parents had a caravan (up until then and afterwards we were under canvas - proper heavyweight canvas). Whilst I always remember our summer holidays to be really enjoyable - we always went for at least three weeks and often more (for which my parents scrimped and saved so we could all make the most of our time away), the time in Northumbria must be remembered for copious amounts of rain! Whether it's accurate or not, I recall, during the third (and final) summer holiday in Northumbria, my mum banging the table as the rain came down for another day and exclaiming 'next year - France!'. We gave up the many castles of Northumbria for the sunshine and wine of France. It wasn't such a hardship.

As I retreated into the motorhome, on one hand sheltering from the wind, it would still make its presence felt, rocking the vehicle as it gusted. I was sheltered from the cold bite but not from the effect of it. I put some music on and continued the book I've been reading for a week or so now and that I've referenced elsewhere 'Wayfarer' by Phoebe Smith taking time out to write this as I had a sudden urge.

The wind has been a constant these last couple of days. This morning, I had the wind at my back as I cycled the causeway over to Lindisfarne. It whistled around the ruins of the Priory and I was grateful for a bit of relief from it in St Mary's Church adjacent to the priory (and a place where one of the ministry team at home was incumbent). As I explored the island, the wind continued and at one stage brought some rain too - although I don't think we got the worse of that rain cloud! As I prepared for the cycle back to the campsite I knew I was in for a tough time with the wind against me. Boy! I wasn't wrong! All the way back I cycled into the wind - some four or so miles! It reminded me of a spin class in the higher gears for thirty minutes! It felt a lot longer! I could see the campsite from fairly early on in the journey - I'm not sure if that was a good thing or not. I was so glad to be back.

So - my reflections on the day? The wind was helpful on the way out and on the way back 'the enemy'! With a headphone in to help with directions, I listened to some music and reflected on the words of the Bethel 'It is well' (you can listen to it HERE). The chorus contains the words: 'And through it all, through it all. My eyes are on You. And through it all, through it all. It is well. And through it all, through it all. My eyes are on You. And it is well, with me.' It was my thought for the day as I reflected on a lot. All is well. All is well with me, though You.