Ruth Chesney

I had a wonderful childhood growing up at the foot of Slemish, the mountain to which, according to legend, Saint Patrick was brought after he was captured and became a slave. We loved climbing the small rock and heather-covered mountain as children, and we couldn’t slide back down the steep, muddy slopes until we’d each had a turn sitting in what we called Saint Patrick’s chair – a missing section from a large, flat-topped stone. It wasn’t only local people who visited the mountain, however. Each 17 th  March, Saint Patrick’s Day, hordes of people descended on our area in cars, buses, and even walking the ten or so miles from the nearest town. From our garden, we were able to see the climbers as small specks silhouetted against the spring sky. Saint Patrick’s Day celebrations vary widely throughout the world. In Chicago, a city where many residents claim Irish ancestry, the Chicago River is turned green. Saint Patrick’s Day parades are held in obvious places such as Dublin and Belf...

When I’m on holiday, I love stumbling across art galleries, and can never resist taking a peek inside to admire the paintings. While I know very little about the world of art, I find the variety of style and technique intriguing. My personal favourites are paintings which, up close, look like a mass of small, thickly-applied brushstrokes, seemingly with no pattern or focus, yet when you stand back and observe the painting from a distance, all the brushstrokes have combined to form a rich, textured and outstandingly beautiful picture. In life, I often forget to stand back. Instead, I focus on the tiny, individual brushstrokes. The little daubs of paint that seem to make no sense. The humdrum of life. Everyday activities. Even things that we, as believers, started out with great gusto to do for God. It’s so easy to become focussed on today. This earthly life. We get discouraged so easily. Things don’t work out the way we planned. Our efforts seem to fail. No one seems to notice or apprec...

What better time for a new start? Christmas, with all its overindulgences, is over, and a whole new year stretches out before us, clean and unspoiled, full of potential and ripe with promise. This is going to be the year in which we lose some weight, be more organised, manage our money better, or spend more time with family. Then reality hits. The reality of saying ‘no’ to those tempting chocolates, getting out of bed to exercise on cold, wet mornings, discovering we have the same demands on our time that we always had. Why do so many new year’s resolutions fail? In most cases, they are noble and worthwhile goals, things that are perfectly legitimate and right. Maybe the goal was unrealistic. Someone whose only exercise consists of taking out the wheelie bin isn’t likely to suddenly be able to run ten miles every day. Maybe there was a lack of planning. Managing finances requires a budget, which doesn’t happen on its own. Maybe there was insufficient motivation, or we hit discouragemen...

I wonder what Mary thought. Not too many months before, the angel Gabriel had visited her to tell her that she, a virgin, was going to have a baby. And not just any baby – this child would be the long-awaited Messiah, the One who would save His people from their sins. She was truly blessed. An unknown girl from an insignificant village was actually going to be the one to carry the most precious child ever to be born. So can you imagine what was going through her mind as she and Joseph made the long trip to Bethlehem in the final stages of her pregnancy? I’m pretty sure that Mary knew Micah’s prophecy concerning the place where the Messiah would be born – a scan through her song in Luke 2 reveals that she was a girl who was certainly familiar with the Scriptures. But couldn’t they have been asked to make the trip a few months beforehand? Why now, when she was ready to deliver? Can’t you see them, most likely tired and worn out to the point of exhaustion, making their way to the inn, onl...

Waiting. We all know what it’s like, whether simply standing in a queue in a supermarket, or waiting for a phone call, the bride’s arrival at a wedding, results of a medical test, acceptance to a school or job… On most occasions, we know that our waiting will, sooner or later, come to an end. Other times, we don’t know if what we’re waiting for will ever come to pass. We pray, crying to God day after day, but nothing happens. We don’t understand the delay. Wouldn’t what we’re praying for help us to live better lives for God? A bigger house would mean we could serve others in a much fuller way. Surely it would be easier to do certain things for God if I was married. A miraculous cure to this chronic illness would show how great God is. Did you know that God waits? I was reading this morning in Isaiah 30. A segment of verse 18 caught my attention. ‘Therefore will the Lord wait, that He may be gracious unto you, and therefore will He be exalted, that He may have mercy upon you…’ The conte...