There's been snow around for nearly a month, and it's shocking that the winter wonderland can pall so quickly. Christmas is long gone, and even my inspirational New Year retreat at Crowhurst is fading. Then I remember the Magi, the Wise Men, who, 'they' say, were not Kings. They would still be trekking to Bethlehem, though it is said that they arrived much later, and shouldn't be in the nativity scene. Maybe they were on their way back by this time, avoiding bad old King Herod in Jerusalem. When I painted them, about thirteen years ago, I remember the vivid pictures in my mind, and the dazzling cloud of emotions - awe, amazement, sadness and joy. Some say they were sages, astrologers, non-Jews, strangers, oddities in that land, but 'wise', and well aware of the etiquette of bestowing gifts on a new-born child, both symbolic and prophetic. God chose them to honour His Son, whoever they were. That makes me feel included, in spite of being a stranger and an oddity in this land, too. And so I'll keep on working at the wise aspect.
