Bright, clear and airy, the shores of beach and bay appear freshly laundered this morning: “If seven maids with seven mops swept for half a year, do you suppose, the Walrus said, they could sweep the seashore clear?” I don’t remember if the Carpenter, who was reportedly walking close at hand, ever committed himself on this point, but something very much like it seemed to have come about. No maids or mops were in evidence, but all the old sand, water and sky we had endured throughout the winter and sultry grey spring were washed to a shiny newness.
This day had all the earmarks of a truly new day; to contemplate its ending, or imagine shifting its venue to unhappy hospital wards for example, seems unthinkable at the moment--where one goes or what one does on this day is irrelevant; being in it is everything and the response of choice can only be gratitude “...to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Eph. 4:23, 24). Do you doubt? “…you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires,… But in keeping with His promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness”. (2 Peter, 3:3,13.).
Yet by now the nostalgic afternoon shades begin to extend across streets and walkways and this day is beginning to look like so many others. It will surely go where each day is lost to eternity, although this one has brought a message of prophecy and hope. One can be very grateful for that.