Grace in The Unfolding - The January 2025 Beagle
Between the Dawn and the Dusk: The Gentle Space of Becoming
“I write on and the night is over,
And the morning knocks on the bars
With two wings. It's time to crumble the bread
And sprinkle it on the windowsill. It's time to live.”
~ Irina Ratushinskaya
Hello dear friends, I send you greetings from a grey London yet mild with an absence of rain, for that I’m thankful! We have entered the startling beauty of winter where morning sunshine pierces crisply the unadorned landscape.
I’ve relished the break from study but I’m seeing the challenge in getting myself back into mental gear again, it really is a different dance. I did however enjoy Christmas to the fullest and this of course, meant being surrounded by the presence of loved ones and dear friends. I made my traditional cinnamon rolls Christmas Eve morning accompanied by bubbles, we rounded off the night with the traditional Shepherd’s meal (see recipe) and all went to the 11:30pm church service. My heart is full.
In 1992, the late Queen Elizabeth II famously described the passing year as her “annus horribilis,” Latin for “horrible year.” In her speech, she reflected that she could not look back on it with “undiluted pleasure” and suspected she was not alone in that sentiment. The storms of life inevitably come to us all, and with every crashing wave, we learn how to weather them. Jesus taught that when we build our lives on a solid foundation—something of true strength—we can withstand the onslaught. As I reflect on my own year, particularly the latter six months, I see both the places where I have fortified my heart and mind and areas which require reinforcement. Too often we are reluctant to speak about the under-shadows of our lives, we don’t want to seem negative, an Eyore, we don’t want to solicit pity by appearing the victim. Honestly, sometimes we’re ashamed and embarrassed of our pain. Yet, if we’re alive in this world we can guarantee that none of us will escape unscathed. It is through our sufferings we learn and grow, it is by perseverance and endurance we mature.
“… we also boast in our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope."
~ Romans 5:3-4
I love the opening poetry excerpt by Irina Ratshinskaya. This was penned from prison where she was being held for spreading anti-Russian propaganda — her poetry. I imagine a bird of some kind would visit her each day seeking a meagre crumb. She is lost in time through the night as she writes on scraps of paper or phrases carved into bars of soap. A feathered friend arrives. “It is time to live” she states, does she say this in response to meeting the needs of the bird, does she mean that the new day has come and her sense of being alive will now return in the delight of this little winged creature? Is it a statement of the will, she must engage and not give up?
Sometimes, the strength to keep going is only found in those moment by moment choices we make to engage, to put one foot in front of the other, to do the next right needful thing. This is living.
It is also the hope we carry that better days will come, that the current reality will not be the whole story, that we are being held in a greater narrative which seeks to work alongside us to carry us to a calmer shore.
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places”
~ Ernest Hemingway
It’s easy to lose ourselves when burdened by heartbreak and pain—we become like Frodo, deeply changed and diminished by the weight of our journey. These thoughts are ones I continue to wrestle with, and perhaps I’ll share more as my own journey unfolds.
For now, I hold onto the hope of better days—a hope unseen, tethered to a distant and invisible shore. I’ve always believed that even in the muck of life there is gold to be found. We can take it, crumble it on the windowsill of our lives, share its sustenance with others. We can find something worthy in the broken places and make a choice to live. This is our daily darkness-defying labour.
“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail; and when you have turned again, strengthen your brethren.”
~ Luke 22:31-32 (RSV)
Did you know I link every book, film, recipe etc in the Beagle? Where you see words in BOLD and UNDERLINED, simply click the link.
"Lord God, whatever I have written which is of Thine, let Thy people recognise. If I have written aught which is of mine, forgive Thou, and let Thy people forgive."
~ St.Augustine
Mr Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Wickham, having a ball on the tree!
I had to pinch myself walking into the Royal Holloway Chapel last month. My friend had invited me to the Christmas choir concert as a gift and it was the best start to get me in the Christmas spirit.
The Royal Holloway Choir accompanied by The Tippett Quartet, led us beautifully through a program of familiar, classical and newer Carols. I’ve featured one of their pieces on a previous playlist, The Rose, and was thrilled to experience it live.
We took a tour of the London Christmas lights the next evening, they were spectacular, especially the Dior window display (zoom in!). We happened upon a great commotion along Oxford Street at one point and realised we’d apparently stumbled into the 2024 Santa Skate, it was bonkers, thousands of them!
Other than the fashion area I think Carnaby Street was the most ‘rammed’ as we say in the UK, absolutely jam packed!
This from Wicked in the Liberty Store entrance, so impressive.
A feast of iconic sights at Trafalgar Square — The Christmas tree gifted from Finland, The National Gallery, St Martin’s in The Fields, the lions and fountains, Nelson’s Column, Big Ben in the far distance.
You will get a giggle out of the gentleman’s Liverpudlian (Liverpool) accent at the end of this nativity scene clip, “Mary and Jospeh, over there, look”.
Last weekend I got to enjoy a wondrous weekend of rest, of taking in beauty in my beloved Oxford. First stop, a pub lunch at the quaint and cosy Rose & Crown.
My friend and I then joined my other friends in Carol singing around the parish. I haven’t done this for many moons, it was so fun to knock on doors and wait to see if anyone was home or if they would open.
We stopped at the Christmas market on Broad Street afterwards to warm ourselves over a glass of mulled wine.
My friend had offered us a tip of where to find a good coffee with bags of ambience, The Randolph Hotel, wow, such beauty.
Farewell Oxford, see you for studies in a few weeks.
The Beagle 2025 and Onwards
For over four years, The Beagle has been a cherished part of my creative journey. What began during lockdown as a way to share my photography and inspire others has blossomed into a vibrant community of readers, seekers of beauty, and those exploring questions of faith. Engaging with you through this work has been a joy and a privilege.
The Beagle is not just a creative outlet—it’s a deeply personal space where I connect with you, share my life, and curate meaningful content. As my Oxford theological studies now demand hours of research and prayerful reflection, this work has become even more intertwined with my academic journey. To make The Beagle sustainable and continue offering rich, engaging content, I’ve decided to move it behind the paywall starting February 2025. This shift will allow me to dedicate focused energy to crafting thoughtful, exclusive material for my supporters.
Some content, like poetry readings and occasional pieces, will remain free, but my primary efforts will center on The Beagle. With this change and my studies over the next 18 months, I look forward to streamlining my focus and offering you an even more intentional and enriching experience for less than the cost of a coffee.
Supporter Extras:—
Oxford papers - I will share my essays and papers once completed so you can enjoy seeing my Oxford studies and hopefully engage in further thought and discussion on the topics. See this month’s Reading section for my next interesting paper title.
The Handwritten Revival - Oh my goodness, thank you for your patience for the last few lovely souls who have yet to receive a card or letter from me! The last 6 months have been unexpected but I’m now beginning to regain my footing. It lifts my heart to hear from you and I delight in writing also so I intend to keep this going. Thank you for the lovely Christmas cards, I treasured receiving them.
The Book & Armchair Society - I’ll share the books I’m reading for Uni study if you’re interested and if anyone ever wants to hop on a Zoom chat etc for an informal book club I’d love that. I’ve learned so much through the verbal back and forth over a book and miss it a lot.
Still Life - I plan to return to my camera, details below.
Teatime & Poetry - I hope to film more of these for 2025.
Ruminations
Anticipation.
I shared this with my children last week for our Shepherd’s meal, I hope it blesses you also.
Advent is all about anticipation. Often, the anticipation itself feels richer than the moment of realisation. Perhaps that’s why I’ve come to love Advent so much over the years—it’s an invitation to lean into the waiting, while the flash of Christmas Day is so brief.
During Advent, we wait for the Light. We lean in, longing for Jesus’ arrival—the Light we expect to pierce our darkness.
There are moments that shape our lives in ways we couldn’t anticipate—loss of life, loss of love, loss of friendships. And yet, there are also arrivals we never saw coming: new life, new love, new friendships.
For now, we walk through a broken world. Shadows often stretch across our paths, but God promises to walk with us through the fog. He has come—the true Light shines for us and within us. His love gives us hope, even in the darkest seasons.
A few thoughts to ponder:
• What light has come to your darkness this year?
• What light can you anticipate next year?
• What light will you give in the coming year?
• How is Christ continuing to bring light to your path?
As we anticipate a new year filled with new beginnings, my prayer for you is this: May you continue to walk in the Light. May you place yourself in that Light, and may you feel the depth of God’s love for you in Christ.
Anticipate His faithfulness in 2025 with hope.
Still Life
I will be bringing back my Photographic work and high resolution downloads for paid subscribers from February. I’d like to get a little more creative and also incorporate a greater expansion of my work, I hope to bring you some surprises.
Reading
The Gospel of Matthew for my first graded assignment, NRSV translation with Apocrypha. I’ll be answering the question Are The Women of Matthew’s Gospel Liberating Role Models For The Contemporary Church?
What do you think? Hopefully I can share my thoughts for the February issue.
Pencil Letter by Irina Ratushinskaya. My daughter gave me this for Christmas. The opening poem excerpt is from this book. Irina was arrested for her art and placed in a Russian prison camp where she would continue to write, smuggling out her work sometimes scratched into bars of soap.
“Irina Ratushinskaya was only 28-years-old when she was sentenced to seven years’ hard labour and five years’ internal exile, accused of anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda. Her crime: writing poetry. She was held for three years in a “strict regime” labour camp, in a special unit for women political prisoners where she suffered beatings, force-feeding and solitary confinement in brutal, freezing conditions. But her poems were smuggled out of the camp, and published in 1986 by Bloodaxe in No, I’m Not Afraid, the book which spearheaded an international campaign which eventually secured her release. Pencil Letter, a compilation by various translators, followed after her release in 1988.” (Amazon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️)
A book I’m not reading but which I’d love to read when I have time again is Orbital by Samantha Harvey. It sounds fascinating and won the Booker Prize 2024. Have you read it?
Art
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
by artist Nikoleta Sekulovic.
Nikoleta is a Spanish-born artist of Serbian descent, she grew up in Madrid, Spain. Sekulovic features here Elizabeth Barrett Browning, one of the most celebrated poets of the Victorian era, renowned for her deep, introspective poetry that often explored themes of love, spirituality, and social justice.
I highly recommend seeing Nikoleta’s work in full scale on her Instagram.
“Art is probably one of the only things left, the only true things left, which exist for its own sake and nothing else . . . because it's a pure thing, art is a pure thing that comes from a realm of which we are not completely sure about. That's why we like artists, that's why we love art, that's why we think it's special. That's why a million people go and stare at the Mona Lisa every day because they're affected by the gaze of this special thing. The Turin Shroud wouldn’t be the Turin Shroud if people didn't go and see it . . . and art is like that, it has an alchemy with those that take part in looking at it, at the gaze of it. So if you're gonna be responsible for that as an artist, you have to be totally honest as well.”
~ Tracey Emin
Poetry
In a ‘stream of consciousness’ as Julia Cameron would term it, I penned a few words on Boxing Day as I sat over my hot coffee at McDonald’s observing the comings and goings of some customers. The sentiment flows well into this month’s featured poem which follows.
Burgers & Brokenness a melancholy Boxing Day rant of sorts:
It’s the morning after.
The noise,
has ceased. They’ve turned the music off.
Ah! Sweet peace.
I can hear the mechanisms;
the deep fryers, alarms sounding,
quietly.
They breath in, and out,
beeps and bleeps,
the cautious inhale, exhale
of the machines — this could be a hospital,
life support.
People are so impatient,
tapping feet, raising eyebrows,
“Should I come back tomorrow?”
he quips, looking to make eye contact.
I look away.
Maybe, for some
it’s the morning after
the machines went still.
Be kind.
They’re humans, not automatons.
Listening
I’ve curated a playlist headlined by the musical program from The Royal Holloway Christmas concert (first 17 tracks) then combined my playlists from A Gentle January and Fallow January 23/24 to create over 4 hours of musical balm. I’ve added my new favourite song at the very end and although traditionally an Irish funeral song I feel it’s a good end of year song also.
Watching
I Capture The Castle (DVD). I managed to find a second hand copy of this Period film for a few pound, and have liked Romola Garai in period dramas such as Emma also. There are a few very young, now very famous faces in this overlooked title, such as Henry Cavill.
“A love story set in 1930s England that follows 17-year-old Cassandra Mortmain and the fortunes of her eccentric family struggling to survive in a decaying English castle.”
Virgin River Season 6 (Netflix). Can we all move here please? I adore this show for the male-male mentoring relationships it portrays, the fidelity in marriages, also the unsanitised aspects of typical life (minus the murders!). The writers (many women) show the men as emotionally available, intelligent and vulnerable. The scenery is breathtaking, the music gentle. This show really is a balm to the soul, minus the murders 😅
[Occasionally my recommendations may not be for everyone. My choice of films, books etc are based on my particular tastes and tolerances. Just a note for my G-rated friends]
Recipe
Creamy Chicken, Leek Pasta Soup by Lucy Sommer.
I made this for our Shepherd’s meal Christmas Eve, it was a winner! I only used 2 leeks which seemed quite enough but you do you. I also made a meat and vegan option and both worked exceptionally well. I paired this with a homemade Honey & Rosemary focaccia recipe by Francesco Mattana.
Ingredients | Serves 4-5
Large knob of butter 1 brown onion, diced salt
3 leeks, halved and sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 sprigs rosemary, needles finely chopped
1.3L chicken stock (I used 2x kallo stock cubes)
1 lemon (zest and juice)
2 chicken breasts
250g dried short pasta
150 ml double cream
½ cup parmesan
Black pepper and salt
Method:
1. Place a dutch oven or large saucepan on a medium low heat. Add the butter followed by the onion, leeks and a generous sprinkle of salt.
Return the lid and cook gently for about 10 minutes until really soft and slightly golden and creamy.
Stir in the rosemary and the garlic and let this cook for a couple of minutes.
Pour in the chicken stock followed by the grated zest of 1 lemon.
Add in the chicken breasts making sure they are submerged in the stock. Return the lid and set your timer for 5 minutes (watch the heat, the stock should be simmering gently).
After 5 minutes add in the pasta shells, return the lid and set the timer for 4 minutes.
After 4 minutes remove the chicken breasts into a bowl to cool slightly before shredding with two forks.
Add the lemon juice to the soup and when the pasta is al dente remove the soup from the heat.
Return the chicken to the soup followed by the parmesan, double cream and a generous crack of black pepper. Serve with more parmesan, black pepper and a drizzle of olive oil.
For fun
Signing off
Friends, here we stand on the threshold of 2025. We’re in that twilight zone of not knowing what day it is, and hope to never see cheese again. I have ideas and goals for this year, some may stick, a few may slide. I’d like to commit to a no-spend year, to use what I have and only buy according to need. I’d like to not use TV as a coping mechanism, to scroll less and stroll more. I’d like to be kinder to myself, to try and look after my body more. I’d like to be kinder to others. I’d like to cultivate family and friendships more. I’d like to save and buy a car. I’d like to know Jesus more deeply, to become a little more assembled into His likeness. I’d like to understand if my freeze/collapse response is ADHD or a trauma response. I’d like a chin tuck.
I will sign off with some words of hope and encouragement.
May your new year greet you kindly with a wide embrace.
May you step into newness from a place of rest.
May God give you the strength and courage to choose to mount up over any unexpected adversity.
May He comfort you in the very depths of despair, that you’d meet His overflowing and abounding love there.
If you have strength, may you take the breadcrumbs of your life and scatter them as food for others.
May you remember to reach out for God, to pray:—
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
~ Praying, Mary Oliver
With love and blessings,
Jacqui
Funny, I also have this goal for the new year to not spend. I decided this a couple of days ago. Great minds think alike or do we happen to be kindred spirits?
Thank you for another beautiful Beagle, Jacqui. May the coming year be a gentle one. ❤️ BTW, I watch Virgin River, too!