Keep Schtum!

In one of the early Narnia books by C S Lewis, the witch invades London and commandeers a taxi – pulled in those days by a horse. I have a picture of her in my mind’s eye as I write – she is standing with feet planted firmly on the footrest where the driver had been sitting. She’s pushed him off and now stands, legs akimbo, hair wildly blowing, one hand holding the reins, the other lifting a whip high, ready to be brought crashing across the poor horse’s back. She is jolting from side to side through the wet cobbled streets of London.

I like to think I let God do the driving in my life. I know that is the best way. That is what I want to do. But.

I have a situation in my life. I am upset about it, and long to wade in and fix it...though I am aware that my ‘fix’ might just make things worse. God’s been highlighting a truth to me for some time now: the Bible says that Jesus’ mother Mary ‘pondered things in her heart’, and I read the other day how Jacob, when hearing Joseph’s dream, ‘pondered it in his heart’. It seems it is a good policy to keep ‘schtum’ sometimes. Maybe always. Ponder and pray. Trust and obey.

Initially I felt relief that I didn’t have to sort this situation. God would. I praised and thanked him. I felt great. Until 3 am, when I awoke and began to stew. So one night I got up and drafted out an email, convinced that perhaps, in fact, I ought to just say a couple of things. I didn’t press Send,  though, realising that I needed to ask advice and consider it in the cold light of day. 

Which I did, and then, still convinced that the time of pondering was over and I should take action, I pressed Send. Twice. My laptop did not respond. It had switched off Wifi. I found the button and switched it on again. Still no connection. By the time I had Troubleshot the problem and was back on line, I had recognised my folly. My disobedience.

Like the wild witch in the Narnia story, I had given up riding shotgun and had pushed Jesus over and grabbed the reins. I was about to run roughshod through the situation, so God in his mercy shut me down. 

I feel peace again. I am where I belong, riding shotgun, with Jesus holding the reins. Grateful that he sometimes intervenes in spectacular ways to help us obey him. Like the psalmist, I wait for him to sort the situation. He’s the God of miracles, after all.

Repetitive strain...

A few weeks ago, the farmer spread the manure over the field. Today, in the winter sunshine, he is back. His tractor pulls the plough up and down, up and down, tediously repetitive and slow. But one furrow at a time, the field is being transformed from the tired green of root-bound weeds and grass into the rich brown of freshly-turned soil. One furrow at a time. 

There is a rhythm in the farmer’s life, a repetitive rhythm. Tedious or comforting in its predictability? Depends on one’s point of view, on one’s state of mind, on one’s focus.

Monday, Monday. It can sound like a lament, or like a celebration. I confess that today, having tackled a tax miscalculation and preparing to wade into another insurance confusion for Mom, the refrain was more lament than celebration. But then as I sat in the window and watched the steady progress of the farmer’s plough, there was a shift in my thoughts. 

This is the day the Lord has made. I am up and healthy, blessed with loved ones and blessed with choices. The boundaries for me have fallen in pleasant places. Peaceful places. Places where I am free to roam. I will rejoice and be glad in this day, Monday, as I prepare to get my head around the intricacies of insurance. 

The farmer presses on until the whole field is ploughed. With God’s help, I will press on, too.

Now how 'bout me?

Felicity loves stories. She gets lost in the simplest of stories, then says, ‘Now how ‘bout me?’ and launches in to retell the story she’s just been told, having inserted herself into the action. It might be a simple recounting of an incident with her daddy as he was growing up. It may be something more sinister involving the Big Bad Wolf or a crocodile or a bear; whatever the story, she positions herself into the middle of the action. 

The Bible is a book of stories, into which we are invited. It is full of flawed folk who answered God’s invitation into his story, and usually messed up, often more than once, often spectacularly. Yet God still loved them. He still wanted them to be part of his story. It’s great to read the Bible and see where we fit. We may fit in one story today, and in another story in a year’s time. We may feel so estranged from God that we don’t see ourselves in any story, but we can take a look at Jesus’ story of the shepherd seeking the lost sheep. However entangled we are in the thorns, he can release us.

I love the thought that God’s story is his story, and yet he is generous and loving and wants us to enter in and create it with him. Not sure, but I imagine that although he knows the ending, some of the nuances of the story are still to be created as we make our choices and live our lives before him. I hope that is exciting – in a good way – for him, because it is certainly exciting for us. 

So now I’m going to open my Bible, read some and then ask God, ‘Now how ‘bout me?’

What is truth?

A dark winter’s day gives an excuse to light the stub of a Christmas candle, which flickers beside me as I write. Artificial light brings cheer and a cosy feeling: lighting a fire adds warmth. Makes me want to snuggle down with a good book and get lost in a story.

 

Nothing wrong with that. But.

When I am ‘home’ with Mom in southern California, even in November or March, the sun is up by 6 and so am I, eager to embrace all that the day offers. There’s something about natural light, the real thing, that inspires and encourages activity. There’s a clarity; there’s an energy.

I’ve been reading a lot about ‘fake news’, a label which, when bandied about by politicians we want to trust, eventually undermines our confidence and causes us to question the truth of any news story. There were an inordinate number of shenanigans during the last presidential election in the USA, many of them originating in a foreign country, and most of them aimed at disseminating fake news while calling into question things that were true. The electorate was confused; the candidates were confused:  What news contained the truth?

Pilate looked at Jesus, the light of the world, and asked pitifully, ‘What is truth?’ 

A cry that echoes down the centuries and reverberates loudly in the 21^st century. What is truth? He is alive and well and living in his followers. Time to let the light shine, because the darkness is certainly deep.

Pre-Existing Conditions

Pre-existing conditions. 

I’ve just renewed my annual travel insurance policy. Because I have a pre-existing medical condition, I spent a half hour on the phone with Anna, answering set questions concerning the condition. At the end of the questionnaire I was given the additional cost of cover for this condition. It nearly doubled the base quotation. 

Humanity has inherited a pre-existing spiritual condition: a sinful nature. We are prone to making unhealthy decisions which sicken our souls. Yet even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes. Christ paid the additional cost for our spiritual condition, so that we can be in Him, holy and without fault in his eyes. It cost Jesus his life.

I’m grateful that I can get, and can afford to pay for, the insurance cover so that I can visit my family regularly. I am bowled over, eternally grateful, that Jesus has paid the price so I can live with my heavenly father ... heavenly family ... forever.

That sets my heart singing praises forever. What a Saviour!

Special Delivery

We were expecting two deliveries yesterday. As day rolled into evening, I went online to check the progress of one of them, and saw that it had been rolled over a day. We got up this morning, hopeful. By 8 am, the coal had come. As yet, no sign of the other delivery.

‘Today, when you hear his voice’, I read this morning in one version of the Bible. Another version reads ‘Today, if you hear his voice’. I don’t know which is more accurate, but I know which I prefer. I prefer expectancy, rather than insecurity. 

Trust in the Lord and he will make your path straight. Our walk is one of faith, and so as I step out today I expect to hear his voice. He’s always with us, and he’s not always silent. And I expect to receive the second delivery, too!