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Monday, 23 February 2015

Wind, wind

The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. John 3:8

The wind is relentless today. I awoke to the sound of a shed door banging, and a side door creaking and groaning in the buffeting it is getting. The dustbins, once emptied, skidded across the road. 

It’s one of those days when hairspray would only help if you emptied the whole can onto your coiffeur. Which is what happened back in the day – I remember the girls in my school sporting beehives set in concrete. They never moved and might have held up in this stormy gale.

The Holy Spirit is likened to a few things in the Bible – oil, a dove, fire – and wind. Not my favourite thing. Perhaps because of its unpredictable nature, and the possibility of a close encounter with a flying projectile off one of the many trees round our house.

In a great sermon yesterday I heard faith be described as a response. When the Holy Spirit blew into my life well over thirty years ago, he cleared out a lot of detritus and junk (attitudes, expectations, sins) and made way for Jesus to take up residence. All I had to do was respond – and that was definitely the easy part. 

The Spirit blew into my life totally unexpectedly, from a direction I’d not anticipated and with power I’d never imagined. His action prompted my response and my life was changed in a twinkling, forever.

So I will stop complaining about the wind.

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