Roller Coaster ...

Sometimes the roller coaster of life plunges downhill at breakneck speed, and all one can do is hang on. It can be exhilarating, or not.

The one thing that really suffers during hectic and disrupted schedules, I notice, is good times with God. I admire those whose daily routines always include time with God. I am not good at maintaining routine no matter what, so this has been a week thin on devotional moments.

But God’s grace isn’t there just for those who maintain their quiet times no matter what. His grace is there for me, too, and I have seen his loving trademark stamped all over these last days. Laughter and smiles. Friendships renewed and deepened. Scorching sun beaming out of blue skies. The breathtaking beauty of a ripening summer’s day. The unbridled joy of a two-year-old as she chases butterflies and admires cows and sheep.

The roller coaster car is rolling along at a more sedate pace now, and I expect to make my date with my Maker tomorrow morning. Meantime, I can lie down and sleep assured of his love and care, no matter my shortcomings.

Whew.

Happy Groundhog Day!

Happy Groundhog Day! 

Best known for its appearance in the eponymous movie, since when it has the connotation of a day of tediously repeated monotony. Times in my life when the repetition of chores has made me mutter something about it being Groundhog Day – just last November as we worked against the clock to prepare my mom’s house for sale, for instance. I think any mother or father whose sleep is constantly broken by a crying baby can feel caught in a Groundhog Day scenario.

In the movie, the actor was stuck on repeat because of his aggressive and offensive attitude. The ‘spell’ was only broken as the truth slowly dawned and he recognised his character needed improving. He changed his attitude and became a better person, and then he was freed to move on in his life, which looked a lot different than it had before.

We can make our own prisons and find ourselves stuck in them. Recognising the walls we’ve built round ourselves, wanting them destroyed so we can move out into the light ... it’s called repentance. By God’s grace, when we turn from those things in us which bind us, Jesus sets us free to move out into life in all its fullness. Stepping into his freedom now.

Sudden Change

Day by day, my wrinkles deepen. My hair whitens (that’s just a guess...) My energy wanes. 

But these changes are gradual. They sneak up and overtake me unawares, and I don’t recognise that I’m even in the midst of the earthquake that is my life.

I like the stealth of change which leaves me blissfully oblivious to its effect. Sudden change – not so keen on that.

Today I heard that a house near me is on the market. They have been good neighbours. Great neighbours even. We’ve grown accustomed to each others’ politics, jokes, and faces. 

I don’t want them to move away. I don’t want to start again with new neighbours. I am comfortable with the people I know. We understand each other. We accept each other’s foibles. We water each other’s plants. We take in each other’s bins.

I don’t want to start again.

I’m going to miss them. Miss the joking, the banter, the conversations in the fields, the waves as we pass on the roads. The shared moans and groans about internet speed – or lack thereof. 

I don’t like change.

But life is all about change. Only God is the same yesterday, today and forever. The rest of us slip and slide through time and space and on into eternity. 

Eternity. Forever. I hope I’ve been a good ambassador for Christ. These neighbours have heard me say things I shouldn’t have said, express opinions I shouldn’t have. Has that made me more real to them – or a hypocrite? 

I need God’s grace every minute, and I need his strength, and I need his courage to face another change. 

How does one face the changes life throws at you, without the steadying, consoling hand of God? I know my boat would have been swamped before now had I not had Jesus aboard with his hand on the tiller, steering me through the rough passages.

Looks like there’s another one on the horizon. Boo.

Torn Apart

One thing about being knocked down with illness: it gives you time to reflect. So today, as I lay in bed, I was thinking about that utter devastation on the roadside verge that I described the other day. 

You know, where the JCB driver had just ripped and torn his way through the branches of any trees or bushes which he thought were growing too close to the road.

The other day I’d been reflecting on the way our Father the gardener prunes us gently and thoughtfully so that we grow beautiful and fruitful. 

Today I realized that most of us have the experience of being pruned like those trees on the roadside. We’ve had people criticise us, belittle us, ignore us, abuse us, not believe us, and treat us as if we are worthless. 

Some of those times, it has felt as if a limb has been ripped off, an eye gouged out, or utterly gutted. We may readily recognise the roadside scene of utter destruction and carnage and identify with it in a painful way.

The good news is that God doesn’t see us like that. The good news is that God loves us rather foolishly because we don’t really deserve such lavish love. Maybe we think we deserve to have our sinful habits hacked off in a painful way, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t need us to be perfect in order to love us. He doesn’t require us to have everything right before he opens his arms and draws us into a loving embrace. And he doesn’t rip and tear through the things that are not quite right. He gently prunes us with loving care and wisdom.

His grace is enough to melt my heart and make me fall on my knees before him.

Honeysuckle in the Wild

I walk the path to the ‘fort’ every single morning, but today for the first time I looked left just at the point where a honeysuckle bush, lush and heavy with fragrant flowers, clings and climbs up a tall pine.

We’ve been admiring the one in our garden this year. It seems to be flourishing despite the weather. A few years back, Don took rootings and put one halfway down the drive, and along the road right by our turn off, and both of them are also heavy with blossom and rich with scent.

He didn’t plant the one in the woods. Neither did I. Probably a bird did it, or the wind. 

It has just made me think about the seeds we sow. We work at it with our children, planting seeds which we hope and pray will mature into character traits we are trying to instil in them. We may sow seeds in other children’s lives if we are teachers, or in other colleagues’ lives if we are team leaders, or unknown persons’ lives if we are writers. 

But some seed will be sown with no intent on anyone’s part. 

Except God’s.

Good to know that when I fail to sow a seed where perhaps I should, God has it covered.

His grace is astounding.

Like the smell of honeysuckle in the wild.