Better than porridge!

One of my favourite books as a child was about an old woman who had a magic pot that produced porridge. I don’t remember much about the story except that one day the pot went mad for some reason and would not stop. Porridge overflowed from the pot, filled the house, splashed out of the windows and doors and flooded the streets and other houses in the village.

I have just read Romans 5:1-5 in The Message, and it reminded me of this book! (I know I have a weird sort of way of thinking). To paraphrase a paraphrase, the writer is saying that as we shout our praise to God even in times of trouble, the troubles develop passionate patience in us which forges the tempered steel of virtue, ‘keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling short-changed. Quite the contrary – we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!’

Wow! I am praying that during these days we can all be like this, alert for whatever God is going to do next as we overflow with the Holy Spirit. May his Spirit overflow through our lives, through our homes and families, out the doors and windows and flood our streets and villages and cities. I am excited to see what God will do next.

He is with us. And he has a plan.

Set Aside

Set aside.

I feel better; I feel fine, in fact. But the effects of that pernicious cold linger. There is still too much congestion. Still the stubborn frog in the throat when I awaken. So I hesitate. I hesitate to resume swimming, to resume walking in the icy winds, to mingle with others.

I feel set aside. I am trying to redeem the time. De-cluttering (a bit). Creative writing (a bit). Reading. Lingering longer in the prayer window.

There are worse things than being set aside. That’s for sure.

Responsibilities don’t fade away, though, as I rest. Care for my mother: there are always things to check, things to think through, things to arrange. I’m not really doing them like I normally do. It’s as if I’ve set them aside, too.

Trust in me, Jesus instructs. Don’t be lukewarm in your love or trust. Fully trust. Fully love.

There is a new gap opening in Mom’s care and there could be anxiety developing in me, but I know the gap is right, and I know God can fill it. So as I sit and contemplate, I sense His love, I sense His care, I sense His calling me deeper into Him. He has never let me down and He’s not going to start now.

A new chapter. A new horizon. Expectation and anticipation rise as I recognise much of it is out of my control: over to you, God. I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do.

Set aside, so God can be set free to fully operate.

Well-loved Voices

Every morning, one of the first things I do is open the iPad to check emails. I’m not wedded to work or looking for anything other than emails from those I love. 

This morning was a red-letter morning, with about four connections from ‘children’ who have flown the nest a long time ago. Good news of a hedgehog which has moved into a woodpile in the garden. A slug-eating hedgehog, in the garden of my dear daughter-in-law who has a phobia of anything without legs. Confirmation of a BBQ to look forward to next month. (Expect rain now, on the 14^th of June. Sorry.) News from LA of frantic busyness interspersed by moments of fun and relaxation. I love the instant communication of the internet. 

Psalm 5 has a verse in it which reminds me that God is attentive every morning, too, hoping to hear from me: ‘In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.’ 

That blows my mind. Billions of people in the world and yet every morning, the Lord is longing to hear my voice, and even more than that, he is ready to answer my requests. The tragedy is that so many times, we blurt out our needs to God with little hope, let alone expectation, of seeing his answers. His answers can come in such a variety of ways that we need to stay alert in order to recognise them. He may answer in the way we hope or he may answer in a completely creative and different way. But whatever way the answer comes, it will come, and it will be good, because our God is a good God.

I may have mentioned already that I heard Biblical hope defined as the ‘joyful anticipation of receiving something good from God’. 

I have raised my voice to the Lord this morning and given him a few requests. Now my prayer is that I remain alert and receptive to the answers which are already given.

I love the voices of my kids coming through their emails. Isn’t it amazing that God loves the voices of his kids too – and to connect with us he doesn’t require any technology or anything more special than the heart and voice he gave each one of us.

Easter morning ... the waiting is over

Waiting

For hours Dusty has been waiting. I had to bake cookies and a cake in the top oven because the bottom one is broken. That seemed to take hours. Well, it did.

Then I made asparagus soup, just to have to fill the gaps of anyone who doesn’t eat enough hot cross buns tomorrow. 

Now I am here, but there...she’s just walked through the room again, looking at me with reproach, with longing, with hope and expectation.

Waiting is never easy for any of us.

Holy Saturday...Easter Saturday...a day of waiting. The Passover...the Sabbath. Nobody stirred, certainly not to go and defile oneself by washing and anointing a dead body. 

But the women could hardly wait until dawn on Sunday to get to that tomb and do their last act of service – or so they thought – for their Lord. The Marys, Salome, Joanna. They’d watched where Joseph of Arimathea had laid the body and they ran at dawn, wondering aloud how they would move that huge stone blocking the opening of the tomb.

Their time of waiting ended wonderfully, beyond all their imagining – despite Jesus’ teaching of what would happen to him. 

An empty tomb. Jesus himself, alive and risen. And then the rush back to the men, who didn’t really believe them. 

Then more waiting for him to show himself to the disciples, to the others, and finally, for him to send the Holy Spirit once he’d returned to heaven.

A lot of waiting, with hope and expectation.

May your waiting be full of hope and expectation, and may it end in joy and celebration.

Happy Easter.

Summertime Blues

Given the summer we’ve had – or rather, haven’t had – I’d feel pretty justified claiming I had a case of the summertime blues based on the rain and cool weather. But it isn’t the weather that threatens to give me a dose of the summertime blues.

Rather, it is the fact that we are at the end of August, schools are back here in Scotland, this next weekend is Labor Day in the USA which is always the signal that summer is slipping away, and Robbie is packing his bags.

He leaves on Thursday to return to Bethel Church and continue his course at the school of supernatural ministry. He’s excited and I’m excited for him – though his absence will leave a quiet space which nobody else can fill. 

We’ve enjoyed the laughter and the fun; painted some of the house together; talked into the night about ideas and God. 

Only God never changes. Only Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. The rest of us are in a state of constant flux. That’s good, because I’ve never been someone who enjoys routine for too long a spell. But it’s bad, because once a moment is passed, it’s gone forever.

We enjoyed sharing laughter looking at old photos last weekend. We all looked so young. I don’t like the implication there. 

Well, the good news is that while autumn may follow summer, winter follow autumn, and spring come next, summer will return. It will be different, but it can be fruitful and fun again.

Suddenly my mind’s jukebox is playing the song from Carousel (which Liverpool stole for their own song unfortunately) – walk on, walk on with hope in your heart.

That’s the great thing about being a Christian. There is always hope. There is the expectation that tomorrow will be different – and that’s not a bad thing.