Deleted

E-mails are a great way to communicate. But there is also the danger, inherent in any written communication but maybe more-so in the immediacy of the internet, that written words can be ‘read into’ and misunderstood. 

I had such an exchange recently and after a couple of exchanges, we agreed that it had escalated into something never intended on either side and the best thing to do was delete the correspondence and move forward, hopefully a little bit wiser.

So I ticked the boxes and deleted them. Gone.

That is what God does with our sins. We confess them. We are heart-sorry for doing the stuff, saying the stuff, not doing the stuff, having the wrong attitudes, judging, criticising, gossiping, etc etc. We all do it and need to come back to Him time after time.

And time after time, he ticks the box and clicks delete.

‘For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.’ Psalm 103.

As far as the east is from the west. He has removed our sins from us. He has forgiven us completely, and deleted them from his memory. 

It isn’t God who haunts us with recriminations, pointing the finger and telling us how rubbish we are. God urges us to come to him and confess, urges us with inner prompts and through our consciences, but he never condemns, never writes us off.

As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us. 

Praise the Lord. Indeed, praise the Lord.

Jet Lag

In Scotland, the clocks ‘fell back’ last Saturday night. That was a blessing to me, because I arrived back here from California on Friday night, and the eight hour time difference has now shrunk to – seven.

Well, whatever. I wish it were as easy for me to readjust my inner clock as it was to change the clocks in the house. Last night I was dozing through the news at 9 so headed for bed only to zing back awake and remain that way until after 2 am. 

Today I’ve made an effort to help my body make the adjustment. I got up at 8. (Tomorrow I will get up at 7 and see how that goes!) I walked the dog, a brisk mile and a half. I dug up some potatoes. And I did a jillion other things from – yes, ironing sheets again – to making beds, making granola, doing some errands. Hopefully, tonight when I lay my head on that pillow and close my eyes, the inner lights will go out for a few hours and I shall sleep.

The Bible offers some advice on what to think about when you lie awake in your bed at night. Meditate on God. Think about how wonderful he is.

I tried that last night, but somehow I kept slipping into planning mode for my middle son’s wedding in two weeks’ time. That led me into anxious thoughts about a host of things, which only served to keep me more awake.

I hate to confess this, but the thing which finally put me to sleep was when I turned my prayers away from those I know and love to situations in the world which are terrible, but where I have no personal ties. Isn’t that awful? That when my prayers turned to things which really are of critical importance to others, my own anxiety calmed and I slept.

Jet lag. Compassion lag?

There is, of course, another perspective to take on this. God tells us again and again in the Bible not to be afraid, that faith and fear don’t go together, that perfect love doesn’t have room for fear. He also urges us to be dependent on him, and to trust in his goodness, mercy and love.

So it could be said that the labyrinth of worry in which I was lost for four hours was selfish and revealed an independent streak which still believes that by worrying I can make something better ... whereas as I lifted up to God situations which I recognise are well beyond my ability to help, God took them, and gave me his peace. And divine rest.

Jesus came to turn the world on its head. Our natural inclination is to worry, and to feel a tinge of guilt if we aren’t worrying because it hints that in fact, we don’t care. 

When actually, if we can manage not to worry about something we really do care about, if we can manage to lift it up to God and leave him to handle it, he is there to embrace us in his perfect peace as we trust in him.

Shalom.

Confession

I’ve got an article to write on confession and the way sin separates us from God. It’s got me thinking. So often it’s the BIG SINS which we feel are an impenetrable barrier in our relationship with God, but in fact the small things may create a more devastatingly effective barrier. Small things like critical thinking. 

The thing about developing a sinful mindset, quick to criticise or grumble, is that it gradually becomes a characteristic of our personality. If my first response to anything unexpected or contrary to my way of thinking is to criticise or grumble, then my first response does not allow God to give me his response. I automatically exclude him, because he can’t abide sin and isn’t going to be around if I’m critical or grumbling. But I may not even recognise that my thinking is sinful, and so I may not seek forgiveness and open the way for him to transform my thinking so that I have the mind of Christ.

So it seems to me that committing a BIG SIN like, say, murder or adultery, might cause the perpetrator to recognise her guilt and immediately confess and have the relationship restored. The sin is still full of repercussions and consequences, but confessed and repented of, it shouldn’t be repeated nor develop into a habitual failing. Not if it’s truly confessed and repented of. But critical words, grumbling, or gossiping are not always easily identified. We have all sorts of ways of justifying them. Sharing for prayer. Etc. 

Just a few random thoughts. Repentance allows God to bless us with times of refreshing, which most of us are in need of. So we need to be careful to ask the Holy Spirit to highlight those sins which need confession and forgiveness. We need to listen for his answers, and expect them to be particular and not just generic.

Then we can rejoice in the times of refreshing.

Bats

Every night at dusk, the bats come out. 

Come out from where? Not sure and not sure I want to know. Quite possibly from the barn at the back, but I’ve never seen them roosting there (is that the right word even? – roosting?). There is something kind of fun about watching them whiz past the window, but then again, something very creepy about them.

Once, a few years ago, we were redecorating and the back door was slightly open. One bat zipped into the house and despite my best efforts with the broom, eluded us. We opened windows and thought probably he/she found a way out. But no.

A few days later the bat reappeared in the living room. Two grown up sons and I chased it round the room, watching it spread its wings and claw its way up a curtain. Twice it was nearly trapped but suddenly escaped, but at last one son managed to catch it in a bucket and release it outdoors again.

I’ve got nothing against bats in theory. I quite like them whizzing round outside eating the pesky midgies.

But I don’t want them crawling up my curtains.

To everything a time and a place. 

I have to confess, there are a couple of people in my life who are a bit like bats. They’re fine when they are whizzing round doing life outside of my zone. Not so happy when they get into my space.

I think the Lord has a lot of work to do in me. Grace is sometimes hard to come by.

Help, Lord.