Everlasting Screed

The joiner was in bright and early to pour some ‘levelling screed’ before returning tomorrow to put the wooden floor on top of it. Without the screed, the new floor might wobble and break as pressure is put on it.

Underneath are the everlasting arms. God is the great ‘levelling screed’. Without his arms underneath me, I might very well wobble and break under the various pressures falling on me at the moment.

I am so grateful for the everlasting love of God. I am so grateful for the unconditional love of the Cross, of the terrible cost to Jesus of our sins and his willingness to pay the price for us. I am so grateful for the Holy Spirit, that small voice within which quietens and strengthens me. So grateful.

Support?

‘Don’t you want a support, Michele?’ the yoga teacher asked. Well yes I do, but my back doesn’t arch high enough to get that blinking brick underneath it. ‘Yes, it does,’ she counters, padding over to ‘help’ me arch a little higher. And discovers that actually, I was right. My back doesn’t arch a little higher, so she fashioned a lower support on which I could rest. Whew.

Forgive, Jesus says. Some folk have been hurt so deeply that actually, they just can’t. They may be trying, but they just can’t. I was trying to arch my back more, but I just couldn’t. But maybe with practice, a bit of flexibility and strength will come.

Jesus came to carry our pain. He understands when we just can’t live the life which is best for us, and that’s why he’s given us his Holy Spirit. To support us. To enable us to let go of the hurt, resentment, anger, whatever, bit by bit, however long it takes. 

He is our support. He has infinite patience, and love for every one of us, especially those wounded and limping through life. He will never break a bruised reed, and underneath are his everlasting arms. So we can go ahead, give it a try, and know that even if we can’t quite do it, he’s there for us, keeping us safe, loving us.

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow

The fabric on the two-seater in the conservatory is ripped, and badly needs to be replaced. Years of hot sunlight beating through the window not only faded the pattern, but also weakened the fibres. Shoulders and arms draped and reclining further deteriorated and wore out the material.

Years of living are taking a toll on all of us. Dear old Dusty barely staggered through a quarter of her favourite walk today – the ‘wet walk’ at Crathes Castle. Oh, the belly laughs she has given me through the years with her water-borne antics, as she used to launch herself off the shore and into the loch only once there were at least two substantial sticks to round up. Then she would swim in pursuit of both, and if they were too big for her mouth, she would ‘herd’ them back to the shore. 

I’m afraid those days are gone for Dusty, but I have high hopes that there might be a ‘wet walk’ in heaven which we can share in the future. 

Change. Life is all about change, and most of us don’t really like it. I know I don’t. I like my friends to continue living in my area and I want everyone I know and love to remain healthy and fit. But I know it isn’t to be. We all, like the fabric on the conservatory furniture, are wearing out, fading and in places, torn.

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. What a startling statement in the Bible, a truth about our Saviour which is encouraging and gives me hope. I am clinging to Jesus, because he won’t change like shifting shadows. He won’t weaken, and he won’t wear out. 

I will crouch underneath God’s everlasting arms, and give thanks for their strength and eternal nature.