I was a stranger...

I make absolutely no apology for the fact that this is a direct copy-and-paste from The Teapot. Please feel free to copy it onto your blog, or anywhere else others might see it and feel moved to do something!

I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.

I have just signed the petition, "United Nations, Leaders of all Nations: International humanitarian help and asylum to those fleeing the Syrian War."
I think this is important. Will you sign it too?

Here's the link:
or there's this one:


God knows this is a terrible situation and I cannot imagine what world leaders can do. But there must be something. I cannot imagine what I can do - I don't think I could offer my home to a refugee, but at least I can sign petitions, I can write to the Prime Minister, I can donate money... Here is a Facebook page which gives other ideas (or search on FB for "Refugees Welcome UK)   https://www.facebook.com/groups/1625303634416620/files/

In my daily devotions book, Celtic Daily Prayer, there is this meditation by Rowan Williams:

The Cry to God as "Father"
in the New Testament
is not a calm acknowledgement
of a universal truth about
God's abstract fatherhood.

It is the Child's cry
out of a nightmare.

It is the cry of outrage,
fear, shrinking away,
when faced with the horror
of "the world"
-yet not simply or exclusively
protest, but trust as well,

Abba, Father
all things are possible to Thee....

I feel like a child who doesn't understand why her toy is broken, but is handing to her Dad and saying "Mend it, please". She doesn't know how he can mend it, she doesn't know what it needs to be mended, but she trusts that he can mend it.

In my prayers I don't pretend to know how this horrific, terrible, desperate situation can be mended...but I hand it to my Father, and say "Mend it, Daddy,please."

But I need to be aware that my Daddy may well ask me to help him to mend it.


  1. What are we ,if we won't help?!
    Jane x

  2. My knitting group are knitting hats and scarfs to send over to the camps. Small stuffed toys too. Its not much but it's more than some people are doing.
    X x

  3. That is a profound poem and it is important to think and be open to God's purpose!x

  4. You have a sweet and tender heart, Mouse.


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