The Wet Towel Version

The wet towel version. Who can resist such a challenge?

There is such a heaviness in a load of wet towels: it can nearly do your back in just to carry them outside to hang. The towelling is perfectly designed to absorb liquid, and it takes a stiff breeze and – if you’re lucky – a warm sun to get them fully dry again.

Sometimes, situations in life seem to soak me, and I grow increasingly heavy, like a wet towel. I absorb anxieties of those I love; I get soaked by the spray of injustices and sprinkled with effluent from the global stage. I crumple into the hamper, damp and heavy with concerns.

That’s when I need to be tossed into the prayer window, where God can give me a good scrub and then hang me out to dry in the wind of the Spirit, warmed by the Son. Only when I am dry am I going to be of any use to anyone.

Just like a towel.

Thy Kingdom Come

Thy kingdom come. Looking out my prayer window this morning, I think perhaps it has.

A clear blue sky, no wind, daffodils bobbing gently in a light breeze. The birds chattering and singing continuously. No traffic on the road. Peace.

Most of the time, most of us don’t live in such a place. Most of the time we are navigating stormy seas of one type or another. Relationships, circumstances, financial challenges, bereavements, anxieties. And even though I gaze out at such peace, my life just now reflects the tempest rather than the calm.

Jesus invites us to bring all our anxieties to him, and he will give us that peace which passes all understanding. Somehow in the midst of wild storms, we can walk as though under blue skies hearing birds chirping happily. I know this to be true; it still takes will power and faith to claim it moment by moment.

May you find such faith today, and may I, too.

Today is Enough

The autumn colours are stunning at Crathes Castle just now – and the weather this morning is a breath of summer to set us up for what might come.

What might come. That’s the trouble with us human beings – we are more than able to imagine what might come, and then spoil what we have today.

Jesus advises ‘Don’t worry about tomorrow. There are enough anxieties for the day.’ Or in the old version ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’

I listened to the birds singing their hearts out, and realized that they’re not anxiously imagining the snows to come, the shortage of berries and  bugs, nor the cold north winds. They are sitting in the gloriously attired trees singing their best because – because why? I don’t really know why birds sing but I imagine (there we go again, imagining) that it’s because they are happy. 

Sometimes we are advised by wise folks to be ‘fully present in the moment’. We are all prone to living the present as if by default while we imagine or worry about the future. 

I’ve got a lot to do today. But as I do it, I’m going to put on a praise CD and sing my heart out to my Lord Jesus, because today is good: I’ve eaten, I’ve been with my loving husband and dear friends, I’ve spent time in prayer and in the Bible, and I’ve got work to do. 

And I’m going to trust my faithful Lord Jesus for tomorrow.