Wdig, Cymru
It was one of those days with God’s fingerprints all over it, the kind that confirms one is in exactly the right place with the receiver tuned to the right frequency. The day began with me having great flow in my writing and I was able to complete eight essays in various states.
Sylvia offered me a ride into town so I would actually be able to eat breakfast and get to church on time, being spared my ‘usual’ eighty minute hike to get anywhere. I had written right up until 9 AM, thinking I had an hour to eat and get to church. Normally, fifteen minutes is enough to accomplish those tasks. I had not factored in five miles of walking across steep terrain.
Sylvia set me down in the round about in the town centre and I walked across to the church just as the tower bell was ringing. I was immediately greeted by Val, the one who had made the fine flower arrangement I photographed on the font Friday afternoon. She showed a surprising amount of enthusiasm for my arrival and I had a curious sense of her being in charge of me somehow. She commented on how I had been expected and that a lift back into the hills after church had been arranged for me in advance. She proceeded to point out a man up in the front of the church who would be giving me a lift back up the other side of the valley after the service. I had made every intention of walking back in leisurely fashion mid-day and finding an internet café down by the harbor. She thought a moment and then shifted gears, taking me up front and introducing me to Jeremy and his wife Andrea and inviting me to sit with them. This was a pleasantly surprising amount of interaction and attentiveness from someone I did not even know. I got this cathartic sense of God’s hand moving in the daily affairs of my life. I made it a point to pay close attention.
The church service was fresh and lively. A well-made video clip of rain water capture work being done in Uganda by Tear Fund was inspiring. A 17 year old boy with an oboe, a young teenage girl with a bongo drum, a young mother with her guitar, and Dick on a small spinet piano managed to string together a rendition of “Here I Am” during communion that sent me off to some sort of numinous space. I could have listened to this innocent, sincere, slightly uncertain rendition for days. It is not often that I experience this profound sense of musical worship. I was immediately transported back to an intense Cursillo experience, even to the early days of charismatic renewal in Chicago forty years ago. I made it a point to tell that young mother after the service of my reaction to her efforts. She responded by telling me they had only gotten together just before service and had never done the piece together. She then gave me her copy of the music.
The vicar’s wife is being sent out to Uganda on Thursday to visit a mission and she clearly struggles in life. A group intercessory prayer was made for her during the service. That prayer was led by Jeremy and Andrea who were sitting next to me. Jeremy and Andrea are clearly leaders in this church. It is also clear that the whole point of this thirty day journey was for me to meet these two. Jeremy invited me to his house for lunch. En route I asked him if we could check at the nearby Internet café for its opening hours. As we were walking up to it, he stopped. He then told me I could make use of his broadband service. Upon arrival at his splendid house overlooking the sea, I was able to upload for the first time in about ten days.
Jeremy wanted to talk about a project he is working on. It turns out he is the editor of a large format glossy national magazine that is currently promoting rural community building in a faith context. He asked me to write an article for the next issue and to include photos. I suddenly was gifted with something rather important. I have this powerful sense that this will lead to something far more significant. It certainly is a powerful validation of my writing. It also confirms clearly the whole point of the airline contest that has allowed me to go anywhere in the world I wanted. The contest was promoted to prove that meeting people face to face instead of by e-mail or phone is a far superior way to do business. This was certainly proven to me today sitting at Jeremy’s table and breaking bread with him and his fine wife Andrea. This would never have happened via e-mail or cell phone.
Jeremy’s more recent life work centers around a project that promotes efforts to get local people to see the familiar in their own immediate worlds as of value and worth embracing in a tourist context. I thought of my experiences in my own world every morning while on my bike. He is developing paradigms to encourage small towns to make themselves into micro-destinations, ones that people will appreciate and support with the vast flow of tourism dollars that typically leave the country. For a long time people in this region have had a disdain for their own countries and heritages. The containment of these dollars in local economies could transform the economies of these struggling towns and also reduce a lot of the resource consumption attendant to long-distance travel. I think about how the Eden Project has transformed the economy of Cornwall. I cannot think of anything that resonates more strongly with me than specific efforts to build community in any context. I have been gifted with something that can energize and empower me for a long time, something of far greater value than free airline tickets. This may well become my most significant link to this wondrous part of the world.
Our Sunday afternoon included bucolic time sitting in a glass conservatory that overlooks the universe - giving one a powerful sense of being ensconced in a crystalline tree house overlooking the hanging gardens of Babylon. The orientation of Andrea’s garden and some tall trees down near the shore line create a powerful illusion of height and texture. It has to be one of the most splendid views I have ever seen. I wonder how many of the people living up here on this hillside even see the wonder of the place they live in. It is quite a surreal context they live in.
Andrea made a splendid meal of hearty homemade soups and breads. She even makes her own wines and liqueurs. I thought about how glorious it is when God does the choosing, and one’s affairs just begin to flow easily. I have not had to resort to eating packs of cheap noodles bought with the coin I found on the station floor. I might just get back to the other side of the world with that coin still in my pocket. For some twenty days now I have had a most splendid journey and have not made use of cash a single time. The hospitality that I experienced at Jeremy’s table certainly far exceeded that which I found in a high-end hotel; where I was locked in the elevator because my credit had run out. I would not have been able to buy the hospitality I was shown today.
Jeremy happens to be taking Andrea to Hwlffordd tomorrow to see the dentist. He offered to give me a lift down there where I can get a bus to Penfro, saving me about two hours of journey time in the morning. The remote location I am staying in is actually on his way, if he goes over the highlands on back lanes. Penfro contains one of the grandest and best preserved castles in Europe. I feel some urgency about photographing at least a couple of substantial castles this journey so I can refresh my lectures on castle architecture. It has been years since I photographed many of them. Actually, I did just get a fine set of images of Leeds castle in July, so I will have those along with Penfro and Carew - enough to refresh these lectures nicely. Jeremy said he would come collect me at the junction at 9:10 in the morning. I never had to walk over the mountains today.
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