No Rain

 

No rain for over four weeks left the garden dry as dust. Friable, though, not hard-caked. I slipped through some of the weeding with ease. The plants growing in the wrong places were lifted out with a quick flick of the hand trowel, carrying no soil on their roots. Perfect.

We had a day or two of intermittent rain. Still the soil remained dry beneath a skim of damp earth. Still easy to weed.

More rain. A couple of downpours. Another hour of weeding, this time amongst Don’s tatties. The weeds lifted easily enough but now they brought with them a blob of earth.

It got me to thinking this morning. If I don’t soak in the Word of God, in the presence of Jesus Christ, regularly, my roots in Him become disengaged, less able to cling into the matrix of the Kingdom. My faith can shrivel, even die.

Also, if I weed out the nefarious seeds of the enemy quickly, he cannot take root and stunt my faith. But if I allow the wrong rainfall to soak my thinking – the media, the news, gossip – my default thoughts and reactions will reflect fear and doubt rather than trust and faith.

May I keep my spirit clean and weed-free, Lord, so that I may really be refreshed daily in Jesus, able to grow and produce good fruit for the many starving souls all around me.

Clear skies

 

I sat gazing out of an east-facing window in the early morning. Rivers of light striped the clouds, which swirled in varying shades of grey. One of the strings of light opened into a window, a porthole exposing the bluest of skies beyond. The low-lying cloud rolled on but the circle of blue remained, and I noticed that on a higher plane altogether there was a swipe of white cloud which didn’t move, which stayed put far above.

I live on the level of the swirling rivers. Life happens. Even when in a ‘river’ of plenty and joy, I am affected by the fast-moving darker situations and events. It can be easy to be swept along and lose sight of what is true, right, noble, good, pure, lovely and admirable, distracted by the aggressions, lies, hatred and ugliness I see.

Usually I think of Jesus as the rock on which I stand, and the vine in whom I abide, (or try to), but I also lift my eyes to the skies and imagine him there as the unmoving swipe of purity high above, never changing, always loving, always encouraging.

I am so grateful for the love of Jesus Christ, for his sacrifice, his mercy and grace to me. The clouds have largely broken up and cleared now, and I step out into my day. Have a blessed one.

Returns

 

The sun on my back, warm and welcome: I bent over to weed a flower bed and plant some dahlias. Above me, a pair of swallows squabbled noisily as they flitted round the nest they make annually in the apex of the roof eaves. I’m assuming it was a quarrel as it was so loud and insistent, but perhaps it was loving excitement over the coming brood to be laid in that nest.

We love the swallows that return every year. So tiny (yet noisy…), such vibrant colours and the joy of watching them swoop in and out of the garage and caper during the evening (probably feeding is a better description of what they’re doing).

Consider the birds of the field, Jesus advises. They don’t store up but depend on God’s daily provision for them.

We had another blessed re-connection yesterday, as a now-grown son who we sponsored through Tear Fund found me on Facebook and got in touch. What a delight. What a blessing, to know he is doing well, married with family. It’s as though he migrated back here after twenty-two years to renew this long-distance relationship. God is good.

I love the way God knits us together, across regions, across generations, across cultures. May the Lord open our hearts today to receive all the richness he has for us. May we live in utter dependence on his loving-kindness, resting in his peace and not worrying about the future.

Hope for the future

 

For thirteen weeks, my sister Judy and I had hitch-hiked our way around Europe. It was 1970; she was 21 and I was 19. It wasn’t exactly ‘Race across the World’, but in those days pre-mobile phones, pre-credit cards for students, we were dependent on the cash we had with us in the form of traveller’s cheques, and largely out of touch with our parents apart from the occasional letter we picked up in poste restante in the American Express offices of big cities.

Our bible was Arthur Frommer’s ‘Europe on $5 a day’, and some days we managed it on even less. It was an amazing summer, but by the end of our trip we would occasionally lock eyes and say, ‘It’ll be nice to get home and let Dad take care of us.’

I’m so grateful for the amazing time we had and the once-in-a-lifetime experiences from hitch-hiking, where we got to speak to the ‘locals’ in every country we visited. We met some fantastic people. We also took a couple of lifts from some dodgy characters, and possibly came nearer to disaster than we were aware. By the end of it all, we were tired.

There is something about the hug of a loving dad. The protection and security he offers. A good dad will know what to do. We can lean in and be safe.

That memory came to me this morning in church as we prayed. I read too much news yesterday. Too much detail about nuclear war. Everything around me felt uncertain and shaky. What to do to prepare for any eventuality?

Then Tony preached on Jeremiah 31. ‘The people who survive the sword will find grace in the wilderness,’ ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love.’ ‘There is hope for your future.’

Lean in. The Father has promised never to leave nor forsake us; he gives grace in the wilderness, loving us with an everlasting love. Hope for the future.

Now I get to go to the baptism of nine young people, eager and ready to declare their love for and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour. Hope for the future indeed.

 

Wordless speech

 

Very pastoral musings lately. Walking with my neighbour, we paused at the field of cows and calves. Our presence drew some of them to the fence, where they eyed us curiously, once or twice raising a front leg and stamping it down.

Don’t you hurt my baby, I imagine they were thinking.

God is speaking to us in all sorts of ways all the time. Through his word, the Bible, through his whispers in our minds, through his assurance in our spirits, through nature, circumstances, friends …. In every way he longs for us to hear and heed him.

Take me deeper into you, today, Lord Jesus, that I learn to see, hear, read and dream with discernment.

Falling from Above

 

Trees fan their branches high above my drying whirligig. They have grown and extended their arms silently, unnoticed. Yesterday, bringing in the many sheets which had dried beautifully in the sunshine, I noticed the effect of these overhanging branches: they provide resting places for the many pretty birds darting here and there round the property. And from that resting place, their droppings fall.

Hmm. Branches now too high for me to lop them off, I will just have to minimise the time the clothes spend out there! I gave the wee birds a talking-to as I hung out the re-washed sheets just now.

‘In this world, you will have trouble,’ Jesus declared to his friends and to us. ‘Take heart: I have overcome the world.’

Many things we do in life, we go into with high hopes and enthusiasm. Sometimes they work out. Sometimes, despite all the auspicious signs, something spoils all our plans. Words contaminate; actions lacerate and we can slump, let down and discouraged.

Take heart, Jesus encourages us. I have overcome the world.

At the cross, he overcame the evil one, paid the price for our sins and after three days, rose to sit at the right hand of the Father in heaven. He sees whatever is going on in my life today and he says, ‘take heart!’ What an encouragement! What a Saviour. So grateful.

You are seen

 

You are seen, God assures each one of us.

Still thinking of the eye, not just of God’s eye, trained on his children, but our own physical eyes. Precious and vulnerable, the eye was designed by God with eyelashes to protect it from dust and detritus that would irritate and impair vision.

We are given spiritual eyelashes for the same reason. An eyelash may be a verse of scripture reminding us of the promises and attributes of the Father, repeated at a moment of weakness or temptation. An eyelash may be a touch of the Spirit encouraging and comforting us in our trials, or it may be a sense of the presence of Jesus himself, enabling us to retain a clear vision of Christ and his love and sacrifice for us. These ‘lashes’ shield us from focusing on and being blinded by the ugliness of global events and fears for the future.

Help me to keep my eyes trained on you, Lord, shielded by the spiritual eyelashes you provide.

‘I love you, Lord, oh your mercy never fails me: all my days I’ve been held in your hands.’ Thank you for your love, mercy and grace.

A Fountain of Love

 

In prayerful contemplation, I perceive the face of my Father God. From his eyes wide open, I see springing a fountain of love, a fountain of tears as he absorbs and carries the pain of his children, of his creation, of his world. In every tear, a rainbow. Love that never fails. Support that never falters. Strength that never weakens. His presence always with us.

Jesus wept. A fountain of love, a fountain of pain, springing from an eternal source that never dries up.

So grateful for his mercy and grace.