Feel the Father's Embrace

A blustery wind ruffles my lengthening hair as I patrol the garden, checking the condition of spinach and rhubarb, peas and beans, apple trees and blueberry bushes. I particularly note the flowers opening on the strawberry plants.

It is still cold in this corner of Scotland. Colder than May should be. Dry and sunny many days, overcast and dry other days, but cold. One thinks that plants flower because they are teased into activity by a warm sun, a balmy breath of wind.

But no. The strawberries are in bloom despite the chill. It’s part of their DNA. Hopefully as the blossom transforms into strawberries, a warm sun will bring a sweetness to the fruit which is borne.

Paul wrote to the people in a town in Asia Minor (Turkey), a town called Colossae, and told them that he was praying for their endurance and perseverance, patience and joy, during tough times, so that they might bear fruit.

During these chill days of lockdown and pandemic fear, may I endure and persevere patiently and with joy, allowing the flowers of kindness, peace, love, joy, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control to form and be expressed through my words and my actions. In due season, may these flowers become fruit to nourish those who have yet to give their lives to Jesus. May eyes be opened as the fruit of the Spirit is seen and tasted.

May we be more eager than ever to share the reason for our hope during these days when many are sinking into despair. It is in our DNA as Christians. God is good. In the world there is plenty of trouble, but we can take heart because Jesus has overcome the world. And he has gifted us with the indwelling Holy Spirit, and it is this wonderful Spirit who grows the fruit in us as we abide in Jesus.

Feel the Father’s embrace today, and be thankful. xx

God is always God

A walk in the mist. After days of blue skies every morning, it seems odd to be shrouded in grey. But having enjoyed such blue skies, I am confident that I know what lies above that grey mist: pure blue sky. And I know that when the mist rises, I will, again, see blue sky.

When I live with a thankful heart, I am aware of the close presence of a loving God. When things happen, then, which seem to obscure his presence, I am confident that though he is hard to see, he is nevertheless always there, always loving me. Circumstances change and the mist rises, and God is always God, always good, always for me.

Vintage

Vintage Fisher Price boy, baseball cap sideways, red freckles scattered over a grumpy face, found lurking under a living room chair. That – and the sheets and towels hanging up drying – remind us of a weekend of laughter and fun as most of the family gathered. Four wee cousins together for the first time: precious. Priceless moments to be savoured.

Blessing upon blessing. By coincidence (!), our reading this morning was Isaiah 61:1-3. Verse 3 was God’s promise last year, a promise graciously fulfilled: during this year we have watched and experienced God’s loving hand on our lives, comforting all who mourn, bestowing a crown of beauty instead of ashes, anointing with the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and bedecking us all in a garment of praise as wee Eliott joins cousins Callan, Felicity and Gregor. 

God is good. As peace settles back on this rather empty home, our memories pop with moments relived, of laughter and joy, love and conversation, fun and an unspoken communion between us all. 

Happy Monday.

Blessed

Blessed. Grateful. 

Leeds Arena. Seven and a half thousand women who love the Lord Jesus, coming together to lift his name up in worship and to be challenged and changed by the heart-felt, God-given preaching of Godly women. 

This was our fourth year. Security was tighter than ever, but Joey and I stayed in a small hotel in a neighbourhood containing a mosque and a Sikh temple. The hotel was a bit down at heel but trying to posh itself up; its owner was kindly, friendly and helpful. We took taxis driven by men from Pakistan and enjoyed our conversations. Sharpshooters were scattered round the entrance; bags were scanned as in an airport; but there was no sense of fear. Just a hunger and an anticipation to draw closer to the God who is love, who is with us in the valleys as well as on the mountain tops.

There is something truly Awesome about gathering with so many Jesus-lovers. Now I’m back, trying to digest the teaching which did apply to my own set of circumstances, as it will have to the other seven and a half thousand women. That’s the way God works. He speaks out a word through a servant of his which is powerful and is heard at just the right pitch for each listener. Corporate but personal. 

Glory to Him. 

Driving home, I heard of the terrorist attack in London happening at that moment. Stories of tragedy and heroism. If ever there was a time for us to be on our knees, eyes on our Lord, crying out for this nation and listening for his still small voice, now is the time.

As the busyness closes round me again, I am going to guard fiercely my sacred space with the Lord. He is good, and he is love, and he listens to the cries of his people.

Just before Dawn

Always darkest just before dawn. We were out on the forward deck before 4 am; the moon shone but the focus was the approaching skyline of New York City. Perhaps the camera shook a bit with my shivering, but there was no way I was going back inside. I stood on deck with Don, poised for the gradual revealing of this iconic sight.

The Queen Mary 2 (CCR’s ‘Proud Mary’ going through my head – I guess that dates me!) ploughed ahead through the still waters of the Atlantic. We’d been told a pilot would come aboard but we didn’t see that transaction. But good to know that a local expert would guide us through the waters so that we would sail up the channel that is wide and deep enough for this huge vessel – and also that we would navigate safely beneath the Verrazano Bridge, which we cleared by a mere four metres or so.

Life can be dark and treacherous. Good to know that God has given us a pilot, his Holy Spirit, who comes on board to guide us through the darkness. Sometimes when things are rough we do just want to hide away, scarcely able to believe that it will ever get better. But if we can stand the shivering, it’s good to have our eyes on the horizon, watching for those first lights which herald a new dawn, a new day. 

Praying for all those affected by the Manchester bombing. Praying they will be able to hold on for the light that still burns bright and beckons us onward. Praying that out of this atrocity will come new shoots of love, blessings of peace.

God is good. Even in the darkness, he is with us, guiding us forward into the light.

Sunscreen

This is the day the Lord has made. And it really does feel like May, even here in Scotland!

It’s usually a surprise when we get a day like this. If I’ve learned one thing in my four decades in this northern country, it’s never to count on the weather forecast to be right. The other thing I’ve learned, weather-wise, is just because the sun is out and the sky is blue, it doesn’t follow that it is warm.

However, today it is a day for the garden. So having done my errands and got the washing on, now a bit more work outside round the fruit bushes. 

It’s easy to joyfully sing that this is the day the Lord has made, when things are going well. 

Sometimes, though, it is a sacrifice to praise the Lord, because there are things which make it feel unnatural to be joyful. Anxieties, sleep deprivation, ill health. 

Even so, the psalmist says, this is the day the Lord has made. What he has made, is good. Just as he is good. All the time.

Put on your sunscreen.

Relief

When a slipped disc caused a painful muscle spasm in my hip that just would not release, the physio gave me three sessions of deep acupuncture, sticking an extra long needle into the centre of the tightly balled muscle, which finally, suddenly, enabled the cramp to release. Release. Freedom. It was amazing, and sort of counterintuitive to me. It seems odd that in order to relieve pain, you stick a long needle right into the source of the pain.

Yesterday we heard a powerful sermon at Junction Church in Aberdeen, where Pastor Kevin described the struggle of Gethsemane. Jesus, always obedient to the Father, had to make sure that he was hearing right, and that there really was no other way to redeem the world than by going through the anguish of the cross. His friends fell asleep but he continued to ask the Father, three times, if there were another way. When he heard that this was the only way, he rose from prayer, strong and ready to face his enemies. He could see beyond the cross to the glory.

We all have pain, Pastor Kevin said. Sometimes there may be another way, so we need to ask the Father again and again if we can be delivered from whatever pain we are going through now. If there is no other way, though, we can be strengthened as Jesus was to face the pain, knowing that there is good on the other side. He will bring us through every painful situation to a place of peace. 

It seems counterintuitive that God who is always good, who is always love, will sometimes say that there is no other way than through the pain. It’s somehow like sticking that long needle into a cramped muscle. When the release comes, it is sudden and complete and we can celebrate the victory in Christ, who strengthens us all.