Super Moon

 

What is a super moon? 

We saw it last night, and Google tells me that it’s when a full moon occurs during the moon’s closest point to earth in its orbit. Jamie got this great picture of it shining through a porthole-style window in Glasgow.

I sat in my prayer window this morning, gazing out at the beauty of a waning summer.

‘Where are you, Lord?’ I asked silently, not a cry of despair but a desire for greater revelation.

‘Closer than that,’ I sensed his response.

‘Abide in me and I will abide in you,’ Jesus reminds me. I know this statement to be true. I know where he is.

He is the reinforcing steel within me, enabling me to do more than I could ever do on my own. Sometimes love requires strength beyond what we have, and then the abiding Jesus is revealed most clearly.

The super moon shines brighter than a normal full moon because of its proximity to earth. Jesus’ light shines brighter when a Christian is under pressure, because the self sinks into the arms of Jesus, his presence within, and his beauty is revealed.

I cling to him and his right hand upholds me. Even when our own grip slips, his never does.

What a Saviour!

Rewilding or Tamed?

 

At long last, the dahlias are blooming. Their rich colours, dense petals and exuberant foliage lift the spirit. This year, they are skirted with bright orange nasturtiums and have a hydrangea with a lovely magenta hue resting like an epaulette on one shoulder.

We are not meticulous gardeners. Everything is verging on the rewilding idea. Surprising plants spring up, like the brambles which rooted themselves in behind the dahlias and are producing fruit that is juicy and delicious. But the vigour of these bramble bushes threatens to overwhelm the carefully cultivated plants. They need pruning.

Life can imitate this garden of ours. We start out with an idea and a plan, and sometimes that can flourish and fruit and be beautiful. Surprising things can take root without our noticing them, and they can be productive and nourishing, but left untended, they can overwhelm that for which we have planned. It takes wisdom and prayer to identify those things which should be nurtured, and those which should be pruned.

Jesus uses garden imagery to describe the relationships between him and us, and between him and the Father. As I offer up my life to him today, may he prune those things which might inhibit the flowering and fruiting he is seeking in and through me. I am so grateful that like all good gardeners, he is alert the detail of my life, working carefully and meticulously to help me be all I can be.

 

Pre-loved people

 

A sale of pre-loved goods.

I first heard that expression a few years ago. We would have called it used clothing, or second-hand things. Pre-loved is so much better. It gives the merchandise value.

We had a cracker of a sermon from Tony this morning. It should be on-line this week, hopefully, if you weren’t there (Banchory West Church). The message was basically that we are all pre-loved people. God loved us before we were even formed in the womb. He loves us unconditionally. No matter what we have, or haven’t, done.

Our task is to accept the truth of his love, receive it and respond. Not always easy since most of us feel we need to earn respect, earn love. But not with God.

We love him because he first loved us.

Like pre-loved clothes, we didn’t do anything to be loved. God just loves us: we can’t earn it, we don’t deserve it, but out of his overflowing grace and mercy and compassion, his love embraces us all.

And out of that place of love, we can live love into this often heartless world. We can lay down our lives, maybe forgoing our own plans, to be with and help those who need help. We all need help at times. And because the love of God is our power source, we don’t mind laying down our lives. It’s what we were made to do.

May the love of God power us all into this new week.

Yellow Weather Warning

 

Yellow weather warning over Aberdeenshire. Heavy rains and flooding predicted. We woke to some precipitation and a medium breeze, and now the sun is out. Incorrect prediction.

Hurricane crawling up Baja California. Predictions that the desert might receive two years’ worth of rain in a few hours. I’ve not heard yet whether or not that proved to be correct.

I’m reading through Job. ‘I know that my Redeemer lives,’ he declares to his friends as he sits amongst the ruins of his life, ‘and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.’

Job didn’t have any technology. He may not have had any theology books – certainly none that told him about Jesus. Yet his prophetic words were spot on. His prediction was sourced in, was based on, God’s goodness.

May I live with the same trust in God, despite anything going on in my life or the world today, that I can declare, even among the ruins, ‘I know that my Redeemer lives and in the end he will stand upon the earth.’

We have such a hope in Jesus, the assurance that though the earth is, and we are, wasting away, one day our bodies will be redeemed and the earth will be re-created and we shall stand in the presence of our Saviour.

We have a truth that needs to be aired more in these dark days. May I speak out this truth every chance I get.

I know that my Redeemer lives and in the end he will stand upon the earth.

My eyes on the Hills

 

I lift my eyes to the hills … and if a major company and the local landlord have their way, my eyes will see fourteen of the biggest wind turbines in the UK whirring away night and day, generating electricity for which there is no infrastructure to carry the electricity to its destination, hundreds of miles south in England. The turbines will enable a lot of self-congratulatory back-patting in Holyrood and fill the pockets of a few investors, but they won’t help with our energy needs for years.

There is a programme on Radio 4 called The Moral Maze, in which various experts debate issues which present us with moral conundrums. There are so many, like the wind farm proposals for the Hill of Fare. I’m all for green energy, but sensible solutions which actually address the urgent problems now.

Jesus compared some of the leaders of his day to whitewashed tombs, looking good on the outside but inside full of corruption. Praying today for political leaders across the world, that they would be cleansed of any self-aggrandizement and pride, and built up in integrity and wisdom.

We live in precarious times. I am so grateful that when I lift my eyes to the hills, I know that my help is in the name of the Lord, the ultimate source of clean energy.

 

Life is hard, but God is good

 

Life is hard, but God is good.

It is easy to reverse this truth into a warped thought that life is good, but God is hard.

For all who are struggling with a tough chapter just now, I pray that the goodness of God would blaze forth and shine the light of truth and love into the dark corners of doubt and fear.

We live in a fallen world. But Jesus has redeemed us and redeemed all creation. I am so grateful.

The Lion and the Lamb

 

The lion will lie down with the lamb.

I read a line yesterday, which described Jesus as relaxed. Always relaxed. I haven’t plumbed the depths of that thought yet, but this morning, living on the battlefield of this world, I am drawn to live as Jesus did. Relaxed.

How could he be relaxed, with the religious leaders gunning for him, with cruelties and injustices all around him?

He could be relaxed, because he absolutely believed and knew that one day, the lion will lie down with the lamb. He could be relaxed, because he put in the time on the hills through the night, refreshing and renewing himself in the love of the Father, hearing his word to him, being filled with the Holy Spirit.

Perspective. Focus. Time, resting in His presence.

Lord, help me get my priorities right today, so that nothing that comes my way will cause my boat to rock. Despite any news, global or intimate, I will worship you, trust in you and anticipate that day when the Prince of Peace will reign, the Kingdom will be established fully here on earth as it is in heaven, and the lion will lie down with the lamb.

Maranatha.

Scrub a Dub

 

I just did a thoroughly Saturday morning job. Scrubbing down the shower. It took me over an hour – yes, it was that gross. As I took the old toothbrush into the dirty grout, I sang praises along with Hillsong on my iPad. A great way to transform a yucky job.

Thinking about how easy it is to ignore the dirt, mould, whatever, that gets into the rather inaccessible corners not only of the shower, but of my life. I am so grateful that Jesus covers me, that his blood cleanses me so thoroughly. Some sins really do get engrained and need repeated and vigorous scrubs. Praise God he doesn’t give up on me.

Probably my shower would be easier to clean if I did it every day. (Life’s too short. I will never do that.) They always say to keep short accounts with God. I’m sure that daily scrubs with him are the way to go, though there always seems to be more dirt lurking, things I hadn’t even suspected were there.

What a Saviour we have. Going into my Saturday afternoon with his praises on my lips, and the smell of bleach on my fingers! (despite the rubber gloves).

Before I created you ...

 

As a child, I had a sensory memory whose power unfortunately faded as I grew older. I believed that I remembered feeling the hands of God on my little body as he created me. They were hands of love, and they made me feel secure and safe.

I learned, as I grew up, that mine was a difficult birth. My right arm was raised above my head, so the doctor had to stop everything while he manipulated my arm into a correct place for the birth: otherwise, my mother said, there was a risk of my having a withered right arm. Once things were righted, Dr Dunbar used forceps and hands to get me out. Poor Mom.

I went through a period of mild disappointment, realising that the sensory memory I treasured was probably a memory of the skilled hands of Dr Dunbar, rather than the loving hands of God.

No longer am I disappointed, though, as I recognise that Jesus uses our hands, our voices, our feet, to do his work on earth. They may have looked like the hands of Dr Dunbar, but his hands were gloved in the loving hands of Jesus.

When we were ‘expecting’ grandchildren, I cross-stitched a piece for each baby to come. As I cross-stitched, I prayed and asked for a word for that baby. I wrote them down and now, most days, I pray them in. Four months before Greg was born, the Lord declared that ‘the hands that deliver this baby will not be human, but divine’. His was a difficult birth, too, with possible ramifications for his life. He is completely healthy, unaffected by the circumstances. He, too, was delivered by the hands of God.

May I use my body today to do the work Jesus has prepared for me to do. May my voice speak words of life. May my actions bring relief and comfort. May my prayers be heard in heaven, and my expectations of miracles be met.

Before I created you in the womb, God says, I knew you.

Wow.

 

Soft movement

 

I felt a soft movement on the back of my hand. A carpet moth had landed (unfortunately for him…)

Instant squash. I’m afraid I’ve no pity, as various carpets have been chewed, as well as some beautiful sweaters and a pashmina.

I was so surprised that the moth’s body left nothing behind, not even a few flakes of dust. One minute it was there, and the next minute there was no trace.

How different it is for us humans, I thought. Of course, we are just dust, too, and eventually there will be nothing left of these mortal bodies. But while we live, we have opportunities to spend time with God, to engage with him humbly so that we might be transformed by him into bearers of the light of the world. There are shadows in each of our lives, but as the light of Jesus grows stronger in us, the shadows will fade.

God has blessed us all with the gift of life, eternal life beyond the dust. May I never forget what an amazing gift that is.

Too bright too soon

 

Too bright, too soon, my late father-in-law used to intone seriously if the sky was blue and the sun was out early. Pessimist, I initially thought, until I recognised that he knew the weather in this part of the world far better than I did. A realist.

Well, today his predictions may have been wrong. It was bright early, then the cloud cover drew in but now, I perceive a brightness trying to break through. With our German friends now gone, the washer is busy and the sun and a light breeze would be very helpful!

‘Wisdom is found with the elderly, and with long life comes understanding.’ So the Bible says, and so as the years creep on to my life, I pray that I would say only those things which are wise, that I would understand better the struggles of others, never giving way to hasty judgments or criticisms. That I would be better at reading the signs of the times, and praying into the will of the Father.

And may humility also accompany my years. Many years do not guarantee that my ideas or pronouncements are usually right.

May I live close to the heart of God today, totally surrendered to the life of his son Jesus living within me, living from a place of unconditional love.

Subtle Shades

 

Subtle shades of russet begin to tinge the leaves of the sycamore tree I can see rising above the steadings. A wind blusters the bushes and trees surrounding the house, carrying with it an edge of autumnal temperatures.

The summer has not been hot for us. After an initial burst of warmth, we have waited, waited, for the return of its welcome embrace. But it has yet to come.

Seasons do not always adhere to the playlist we think they should. Neither do the seasons of life. Some stretch longer than we thought they would. Some are truncated, and we have moved on before we felt we were ready.

‘My life on earth is so brief,’ wrote the psalmist in Psalm 119:19, ‘so tutor me in the ways of your wisdom.’

Things come up in life which can challenge our plans, our assumptions. Opportunities. Other peoples’ needs. Illness. Bereavement.

‘I’m a stranger in these parts,’ The Message renders this verse, ‘give me clear directions.’

I am so grateful to have a Lord who never leaves me to my own devices, but is always with me, whispering his guidance. I may not always hear it, and may not always be open to obeying, but he continues to accompany nevertheless.

Thank you, Lord.

Taste and See

 

Sitting in the prayer window, I was suddenly aware of the bread maker, its little paddle pushing and pulling the mixture within, energetically pummelling it so that it is well-mixed. I had heard the yeast be released earlier. Soon it will go quiet, as the heat rises within and so does the bread.

We sit in the presence of God, with Bibles or commentaries opened, with eyes closed and hands reaching up to receive. He places his ingredients within us, whatever we need for today: wisdom, courage, kindness, self-control. He stirs it up until passion for him grows, and then, as we rest in him, the loving warmth of his Spirit grows these virtues within us to see us through the day.

The fragrance of Jesus, like the fragrance of the baking bread, is delicious and beautiful, drawing others to come and taste.

May I linger long-enough in the arms of the divine bread-maker, so that those I meet this day would be drawn to the beautiful fragrance of Jesus, that they would taste and see that the Lord is good.

Influencers

 

The garage ceiling caught my eye as I got out of the car. Newly sheathed in plaster-board a year or two ago, time ran out and it never got painted. I resisted an urge to open a bucket of paint and roll it on.

The work around a house is never done.

Jesus told his disciples the poor will always be with us.

I am doing a devotional called The Reservoir, from Renovare, looking at spiritual formation. (Thank you, Susan Fyvie, for recommending it!) I’m only on Day 3, but already I’m impacted by its call to look at who/what influences me the most. I’m recognising that one driving force in my life is the amount of work that is never done, from cleaning to tidying to gardening to painting to decluttering … I’m seeing that because I have been living a life driven by the work I know is crying out to be done, I am in danger of losing my joy.

So, I’m carving out time to sit and read a novel. I’m trying to make more time to sit with God in a book, in the Bible, in prayer or in quiet companionship, ignoring a cadence trying to drive me back to the coal face of jobs waiting to be done.

Be still and know that I am God.

May I abide in Jesus more and more every day, learning the unforced rhythms of grace, delighting in the gifts he gives. May I live from the heart of God, and not from the hearth of a protestant work ethic.