Remembering to Fly

I cycled to Hetton Chapel this month in order to support the coffee morning. Few attended but I had an enjoyable couple of hours with other believers without fretting about the clock and being back at Salem Chapel for the evening service. The air was cool but not cold, and it was dry. How many more cycle rides to Hetton the weather shall allow I do not know; I push my pedals while I can.

On one stretch of lane beyond the village of West Marton and not far from Gledstone Hall, dozens of pheasants lined the verges and fields. These are attractive birds but their sound is horrible and they are invariably gormless. They are plump and look tasty, though I have never eaten one, not belonging to the gentle class. Some tried to escape from my presence by running at the farmer’s fences and failing to squeeze through the gaps. I merely stopped my bicycle and stared at them but this was enough to commence a general panic. Eventually, one remembered that he could fly, and off he went, the others being reminded of this fact and following suit.

They could fly all along, yet they had apparently forgotten this. Too often, the Christian is afraid and timid, the Church feeble and tepid. This is purely down to forgetting God’s promises:

Remember the word which Moses the servant of the Lord commanded you, saying, The Lord your God hath given you rest, and hath given you this land. Joshua 1:13