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About Sue Pickering
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Blog postPEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH
There it was, half-hidden by the blanket at the end of my toddler grandson's bed ... a peanut butter sandwich, with three bites taken, evidence of a parent's middle-of-the-night care for a little fellow woken by a 'bad dream'.
The adult hands that made this simple, powerful comfort had guided him through a day of little/big adventures; had steadied him as he launched himself on a new balance bike; had waited ready to catch hi -
Blog post1st January 2022
A new year's resolution - the only one to be honest - is to do something each day that gives me joy. Writing gives me joy - so I find myself back on line to share little bits of my life with you from time to time - to make a connection across the miles and minutes as I share the work of grace in my life.
I have to confess that while writing is a joy-bringer, what would give me even greater joy would be if what I share -
Blog postDiary of a pandemic – quarantine - Day 40#
Quarantine [from the Latin quadraginta meaning 40] first came into widespread use during the Middle Ages when plague ravaged much of Europe. Even then, without the benefit of contemporary science and modelling, there was an awareness that enforcing isolation could benefit the population and slow the spread of disease.
In 2020, the campaign against Covid-19 has been highly visible, with graphs of statistics showing inf -
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Blog postWHEN YOU CAN'T HOLD THEIR HAND
I'm writing what's on my heart.
I'm taking a risk.
Within the Covid-19 'story' one area of particular anguish relates to the many situations in which people cannot be with their loved ones in their last hours. For many the powerlessness and frustration they feel at the thought of their loved one dying alone, however caring and kind the nursing staff are, adds horribly to the pain of loss and grief.
What I share with you -
Blog postA lone poppy caught my eye as I wandered among the ruins of the Pools of Bethesda some years ago. All around me lay remnants of what had been a place of healing and hope in first century Palestine. There was no sign of either now, apart from this bright red poppy which had managed to find sufficient nourishment to reach maturity and fling its colour into the greyness of the surroundings.
This location in Jerusalem was the site of one of Jesus' healing -
Blog postIn the 90’s when I was chaplain at a tertiary education institute, the Student Services team and I decided to offer a ‘Hug Day’ to lift people’s spirits in the middle of a dreary winter. After first asking permission of course, posters were put up and fliers sent out, with pictures from Kathryn Keating’s ‘A Little Book of Hugs’ showing two polar bears in a whole range of hugs, from the intimate hug on the book cover to the ‘A’ frame hug, the ‘side-on’ hug and so on. People had plenty
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Blog postMany of us may be struggling to adjust to the 'stay-home' orders, introduced as a measure to restrict the spread of the Covid-19 virus. Apart from the super-elderly who have lived through war-time deprivation, it's the first time we've experienced anything remotely like this - and naturally there are different responses and different ways of naming what's going on by those in authority who are asking their people to co-operate in a desperate effort to slow down or even stop the disea
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Blog postI have nothing profound to say.
There are countless others with words that seem wise, but my mind needs to empty a little bit, stem the onslaught of statistics and stories and dis-ease modelling and 'what if's' and create some space for stillness.
I am sitting upstairs in my writing spot with a tall kauri tree outside my window, watching it wave in the breeze. It is older than I am, a home to trilling tui, fantails, clumsy kereru, the occasional tiny grey warbler -
Blog posttaken by Sue Pickering 2004
We visited this neolithic monument Pentre Ifan, in Wales in 2004 and since then it has often reminded me about balance, particularly as I've tried to do justice to the various people and things that matter to me, and to express what I am called to do or be over the years.
But as I age the picture has begun to speak to me about the precarious nature of life: as our planet struggles to survive, as friends become unwell and die, and as my own capa -
Blog postI hadn't intended to go down to the rock pools
but a basket of time arrived like a gift
which I received with welcoming hands
like a child
I walked from rock to rock
not 7 or 17 anymore but 71
so more aware
of the need for care
and relieved to reach
the exposed beach
and the pools
that called me in my youth
and call me still
to be
still...
it's far too easy to glimpse,
it's far too -
Blog postInstead of going to a meeting
I bring in the washing:
sun-warmed,
wind-freshened
smelling of possibilities.
Instead of going to a meeting
I pick silver-beet
satisfyingly squeaky,
grown in deep soil
just as I am,
just as we are.
Instead of going to a meeting
I gather camellias
old-style-speckled with deepest of pinks
and pale, white petal blush,
beautiful, -
Blog postYears ago while I was studying in the UK for a year, we went as a family to a nearby stately home
in Kent. I was grieving for my mum who'd died a few months earlier and I was missing my young cat
whom we'd had to leave behind. I was full up with the home's information and objets d'art, when
something touched me to the core and days later prompted my very first attempt at
writing a poem - here's a portion of it:
&nbs -
Blog postIt's a warm sunny day, the sky is clear and the noise of the traffic is increasing outside my window.
It's not 'rush hour' - or what passes for rush hour in our small city - it's the time for literally hundreds of passionate car owners to drive past, honking their horns, and waving their flags ...
They're having fun - meeting with others from around the country who share their obsession - for that's what it is - with all things 'Americarna' - the old gas-guzz -
Blog postI was caught without my umbrella the other day ... just 150 metres from home ... so no big drama.
But as I stopped before crossing the road, as I let the rain soak my clothes and blur my vision I was struck by the rarity of the event ... I couldn't remember the last time I simply allowed myself to experience the rain without being protected by coat or cover or rushing to escape into some sort of shelter. It was a novelty but it made me realise how easy it is, especially in urban living, to -
Blog postMud bathing in the Dead Sea in 1996 was a sticky and rather odd experience but I still found it fun; milk bathing might have been a mark of high rank for Cleopatra and others but if the milk were a bit 'off' then 'rank' could be more about the smell than being the queen of all she surveyed!
But dust bathing?
I was out walking on New Year's Day - yesterday - and let my mind wander as you do at this time of the year. No longer do I make resolutions; nowadays life's more a -
Blog postIt started out an ordinary walk on a calm day in the sun.
The first flowers I picked were like pink forget-me-nots - how apt as I lean into the loss of two dear men - one a spiritual father and wise mentor, the other a brother in Christ, friend and colleague over many many years.
Tomorrow and the next day we'll gather to farewell them ... and we'll try to paint as full a picture as possible of their lives and influence; we'll try to honour them wit -
Blog postOPEN DAY
We walk or drive down the road and see the sign on the new business or the house that's for sale.
Open days or open houses are intended to appeal, to engage, to offer a glimpse into another opportunity that we might want to explore ... and they challenge us - do we go in out of sheer nosiness with no intention of buying or getting involved - or do we pass by and let the next distraction draw us to another thought and another and another un -
Blog postSearching
Someone a couple of houses away is calling my name, but I'm not lost - I am hanging out the washing, appreciating the blue sky and birdsong after days of rain and wind.
The calling continues for my namesake - a missing puppy - her owner's increasingly anxious voice gradually receding as her family spreads out and moves down to the stream and into the bush to search for their little brown bundle. I make a quick prayer for her safe return and find my -
Blog postAdvent - that season in the Christian church's calendar marking the four weeks of waiting and preparation before the birth of the infant Jesus - coincides in the southern hemisphere with the start of the monarch butterfly's active cycle. It's a telling parallel - a visible reminder of the value of waiting in a world that has become so desperately impatient.
I went to town today to do some banking ... there were lots of people queuing - a few waiting with good humou -
Blog postPerched peacefully on the lamp post in the early light, the portly wood pigeon was sunning his white belly, his small head pulled into his body, dreaming, dozing ...
What a lovely sight to start the day I thought, until, out of the sky flew a large black-backed gull.
And the reverie - the pigeon's and mine -was ruined.
There was no kerfuffle; the pigeon didn't stop to fight for his ground but jumped into the air's embrace and let it carry him away as the stron -
Blog postWe went to a 'silent auction' yesterday.
For those of you who cannot imagine how an auction can function without someone with a gavel, a loud voice, several spotters for crowd bids, several others to monitor online hopefuls and a gaggle of
potential purchasers waiting for their defining moment, let me assure you that it can and does work, just differently.
The hall was set up with a range of desirable items each with its own list on which bidders could write their -
Blog postThere's a verse from Psalm 23 that's familiar to many - 'He leads me beside still waters ...' a reminder that our God knows our need for rest and refreshment and is always willing to help us find a way of taking some time out.
But it wasn't still waters that spoke to me on my walk today. Instead the waters were wild, wavetops swept back like a certain president's hair, foam popping up in the shallows, water crashing as sea-surge met reef.
I've always been drawn to the sea -
Blog postBALANCE and BEAUTY
The walkway by the Tasman Sea is a favourite place - always a different combination of sea conditions, sky, birds, people, dogs, wind, prams and bikes. One thing that seems always to be the same however, is the rocky edge, countless boulders put in place to repel the wild power of the waves and only occasionally breached by a super strong storm surge or king tide.
But I was in for a surprise a few days ago when I was walking with my husband and -
Blog postThe sun was warm on my back as I returned from a morning walk - it had been the coldest night so far this autumn and everyone I'd seen had been bundled up in layers of merino, with scarves, hats, and gloves, their breath little puffs in the cutting air.
As I reached home there it was on the letterbox, the largest stick insect I had ever seen: a very impressive 6 inches / 15 cm. So I stopped and stood to one side, not wanting to block the sun, drawn to its size and stillne -
Blog postIt's been a long time since I last blogged.
There have been beginnings and endings - deaths and deterioration, a book finally completed, an easy ride to Christmas turned upside down.
And now here we are in the heat of the Kiwi summer, the hammock swinging in the breeze - idyllic, peace-full, welcoming, healing.
Time to relax, read, and rest.
But it's also time to explore, to do those things we often don't have time to do when life is full and th
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