Farleton Knot

This week I achieved one of my life’s minor objectives: I walked up Farleton Knot. This is the name of that rather imposing grey bulk of limestone one passes on the M6 motorway (on the right, heading north) between Kendal and Lancaster. When I was 5 or 6, my mother and stepfather moved to Kendal, and I recall the journey past this ‘mountain’, my glum face pondering its immense size. Now I am older, and somewhat happier with my living arrangements, it seems smaller. The climb was not as troublesome as I feared, but the views were as spectacular as I imagined. From its summit we could see the Lakeland fells, the Yorkshire Dales, the Irish Sea and a whole panoply of fields and farms. Through them snakes the Lancaster Canal and the aforementioned motorway to Carlisle and Scotland.

My walking companion and I casually agreed that we were well placed to watch a collision and the development of one of those dreadful tailbacks. Had there been such an incident, we would have seen it long before those tiny cars two miles behind would have been aware of anything untoward. Our vantage point afforded a glimpse into those little motorists’ immediate futures: it was a clear run, for that stretch at least.

Back in 1985, as our brown estate drove north to commence our ‘new start’, I could not see the future, and regarded my immediate present with melancholy and apprehension. Yet God, who can see both past, present and future from His one eternal position, knew of better days ahead. Forty years later, I was atop that great hill peering down, knowing the goodness of God and the grace of His Son, and trusting Him for all future blessing and guidance.

A good climb does much good.

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber. Psalm 121:1-3