Choose Faith

Down in the hollow beside the path nestle the pale yellow primula. We look for them every year, and they don’t disappoint. Nobody tends them, but they appear annually. Their delicate design brings a smile to our faces as we greet old friends with delight, friends not seen since last year.

Distanced from our friends and family, we wonder when we will greet them again with delight, apart from in a virtual fashion. We don’t know, but we do know that ‘this too shall pass’ and we will, indeed, hug and greet loved ones once more.

Corona virus is an invisible enemy, striking indiscriminately. There is horror arising from the fear of not being able to see it.

We have a choice. We can live in fear of an invisible enemy, or we can live in faith in the God who gave his life to set us free from fear. He, too, is invisible, and yet his presence can be felt through the Holy Spirit he entrusts us to.

Again I make the choice, to live in faith. It is a choice that needs to be made moment-by-moment. It is a choice made easier if I use some of the ‘down time’ we have been given, by drawing nearer to God, and getting to know him better.

There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear.

May you choose faith today. May I choose it too.

Fruit

When we moved in here over thirty years ago, there was a damson tree in the garden which dripped with a profusion of fruit in the autumn. We paid the Cub Scout son of a friend, working on a ‘bob a job’ badge, to climb the tree and bring in the crop. I then discovered how labour-intensive it is to deal with damsons and in future years, as the tree’s fecundity lessened, I was relieved.

Well, the birds graciously planted a new damson for me and this year, we returned to find a carpet of the richly-coloured plums spread on the ground. I’ve now gathered them in, and am about to figure out how to deal with them. Damson gin isn’t the answer as we don’t particularly drink it and am not sure if anybody else does.

I always seem to be going on about harvesting fruit, but that is because this is such an unusual year. We’ve not really had many, if any, damsons since that early year, nor have we had the cherries or plums like we do this year. Conditions have been perfect for the crops here at the ‘hillock, though others we know have not enjoyed such bounty.

The Bible talks of Christians as people who bear the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, and so on. We are to nourish others with the goodness that comes from Jesus through us. But as they say, life happens, and sometimes the storms disturb the blossom before it can set the fruit. Or drought shrivels what is there. Not every year is a good year. When we are going through drought or storm, we may not have it in us to bear much fruit. We’re not always aware of the droughts or storms others are going through, so can find it hard when we are let down, left un-nourished by others.

My dear friend often says, ‘Put your expectations in nobody but God. Everyone else will let you down sometimes.’ It’s unintentional, often, but it may be that someone else just has no fruit to share.

If you’re in a place of plenty, may you find many ways to can, bottle, bake and infuse your fruit so others can enjoy it. And if you’re in a drought, may you draw nourishment from Jesus himself, so that his fragrance and love can once again bless others.

As Psalm 1 says, blessed are those who delight in the Lord and meditate on his word, because ‘they are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season.’

So as I tackle my crop in the kitchen, I will put on praise music and delight in the Lord, meditating on him and his wonderful love for us. And hope the fruit is not just in the jars and puddings and pies, but also in me.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

‘I’ll huff, and I’ll puff,’ the Wolf threatens, ‘and I’ll blow your house down.’

It’s amazing, the power of a fairy tale villain. Children are right to be frightened by him. He zeroes in on the most vulnerable and attacks with a ferocity which is deadly. His breath is foul and it blows strong, so strong that it can collapse a house which has been built of flimsy materials and stands without foundations anchored in rock.

Our enemy is no fairy tale villain. His breath fans the embers of hurt until they begin to glow with resentment and flare into anger, which becomes a consuming conflagration. A conflagration fuelled by the sadness of disappointed expectations. 

Our enemy is no fairy tale villain. He seeks out our vulnerabilities and delights to find our deepest hurts, and then he begins to blow his foulness into them, nursing the coals that glow with even the smallest sign of life, the coals that can linger deep within.

Our enemy is no fairy tale villain. I have a friend who counsels that we shouldn’t put our expectations in anyone but the Lord, because everyone else will let us down. It’s human nature. It’s when we are affronted by the disappointment of a thwarted expectation in someone that the coals flare into fire, and if left to burn, that fire can consume relationships, can consume us.

Forgiveness is the water for dousing the flames of disappointment and hurt, of anger and resentment . Forgiveness sourced in God. Forgiveness empowered by the Holy Spirit. Forgiveness expressed by Jesus for the centurion, as he pounded the iron nails into his hands and his feet. 

Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? We all should be, and yet none of us should be. We all should have a healthy respect for his undoubted power and his vile evil intentions. But if our foundations sink into our loving heavenly Father, he will hold us firm when the wild winds of destruction blow from the real big bad wolf. Rather than his foul breath fanning into flame the flickering coals of hurt, it will simply blow them out. 

And then, set free, we can truly dance and sing, ‘Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? Jesus has dealt with him.’

Beautiful Just Because

Transitioned back into the green and peaceful countryside halfway around the world from California. Yes, the wind has a sharp edge and the sun lacks some of that deep warmth it has in Long Beach. But the daffodils and tulips are out, the trees are beginning to leaf and the fields are carpeted in spring green. It’s lovely.

Dusty is sticking close. As we walked her round the woods last night and again today, we stopped to admire the pocket of primulas which lies almost hidden along the path. Don commented that though nobody (except us!) may pause to admire these primulas, they will bloom to the glory of God anyway. Aha! Theme for today’s blog!

The integrity of these flowers – if in fact flowers can have integrity! No motivation of impressing anyone. Simply blooming because that is what they were created to do. I think I’ve written before that the birds do that, but in fact they often are motivated by the search for a mate or the need to communicate danger. These primulas, or primroses, or whatever wild flowers blooming in remote corners of the earth, are just blooming beautiful because. Because. No more reason than that. 

I want to be authentic like that. Honest before God. I am sure that all my efforts to make myself beautiful for God only serve to obscure the deep beauty that he has planted in me. My pretenses to be more compassionate than I truly am. My efforts to be all that I think He wants me to be – when all he wants is for me to be myself, the myself which is at its deepest level, not overlaid with self-image or cultural or religious expectations.

How could I ever improve on what God has made me to be? And yet it’s so hard just to be. 

May you and I both be exactly who God made us to be, today and every day. May we bloom for the pleasure of God, and not for any other reason.

Just because.