Roaring Ure

Above premises called the Old Grammar School in Hawes (details of which I can find little save its availability to hire as accommodation) is a peculiar stone head. It appears to be of a king wearing a circlet crown. There it sits (or does a head stand?), gazing out, silently.

Close by, the parish church of St Margaret of Antioch stands with a sign attached to its railings:

"Welcomes them where?", I wondered, and "Who is unified to what?". I’ll confess to not understanding what it means.

I thought about the silent king and the silent church (which was all locked up). It was the River Ure, however, between the two, which most reminded me of the Lord Jesus. Bursting with excess rainwater, one could not hold a conversation over the bridge, so loud was its roar:

His feet were like fine brass, as if refined in a furnace, and His voice as the sound of many waters. Revelation 1:15

Seek not the Lord in dumb rulers or dull churches. The Lion of the Tribe of Judah roars and conquers, and He is coming back! Hasten, Lord, the day.

Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it.

Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice

before the Lord.

For He is coming, for He is coming to judge the earth.

He shall judge the world with righteousness,

And the peoples with His truth.

Psalm 96:12-13, New King James Version