Undergrowth

I took the clippers and hacked away at the undergrowth. I discovered a couple of trees taking root under the laurel. I found two bushes intertwining into one confused lump. And there were the inevitable weeds proliferating in the shadows.

‘Hide me, now, under your wings’: the opening line of the worship song, Still, expresses my feelings today. Sometimes things feel overwhelming. Too much, Lord, too much. I want to hunker down under his wings.

And yet, as he prunes away the overgrowth, the light of the Son can reach me more fully. I can see him more clearly.

May I focus on your face, Lord, and be strengthened and renewed. May I receive all the goodness you have for me this day, with a thankful heart.

May I trust in your wisdom and rejoice in your love today, Lord, and every day.

Eternal Peace

Great weather is a great distraction, in every sense of that. With weeks of sunshine sans showers, our grass is brown and most of our usually-overgrown flower beds are weed-free. A new playhouse has been constructed and stands proudly in the corner of the garden having been inaugurated by happy grandchildren last week. We’ve been working hard in the sun but having fun in it too.

Meanwhile, more sedentary work has been ignored. Today, with a grey sky overhead and cooler temps, I plan to shift my attention, but feel slightly panicky that there is so much to do. Where do I begin? There is even more to do than I thought.

Jesus went to the cross focused on ‘the joy set before him’, not the pain of the cross. Not that I am facing a cross, but I pray that my focus today is on God, and that my perspective is eternal and not imminent.

Peace. Eternal peace.

Sprint!

‘Sprint!’ 

It always sounded like a bad joke. When I was in high school, we had to do a series of physical fitness tests President Kennedy introduced to make sure young folk were keeping fit and not getting obese. Sounds kind of current, eh?

The tests ranged from doing as many sit-ups as you could in a set time (I think it was a minute or so), press-ups, 50-yard-dash, throwing the softball as far as you could, and the one I hated the most, the long-distance run. I think it was 660-yards, which doesn’t sound so far but I don’t like running, unless it’s on a tennis court after a tennis ball. It was so competitive. With my PE class standing on the sidelines and the teacher with the stop watch, it was further than I wanted to run, and certainly I didn’t want to be timed! 

Reaching the home stretch, the cries would go up from friends and classmates, ‘Sprint!’ I always felt my lungs would collapse, or my legs would turn to jelly and give way, and I never seemed to be able to dig deep enough for that final burst of speed. Reaching the finish line would be enough for me: I didn’t care about the time.

The Bible advises that if we are to run our life’s race with endurance, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. He was able to go to the cross because his focus was on God and the joy of reunion with his Father. Sometimes a season of life is like a long-distance run. If there is a finish line in sight, those last yards can seem to stretch forever and demand our last ounces of strength. Never mind a burst of speed; we just need to cross the line. It can help to have friends encouraging from the sidelines, but sometimes it’s enough to know they are praying you over the finish line. 

Praying for those today who are nearing the finish line.

Let it shine!

Driving on a winter’s night in Scotland can be awesome. I avoid that over-used word but sometimes it is warranted. Saturday night was clear and cold. Orion could be easily identified amongst the other constellations, and a half moon shone down on the twinkling frostiness below. 

Arriving home at the ‘hillock, the only sounds to be heard were the occasional calls of owls in the woods beyond the fields. No light pollution nearby, the stars stretched from one horizon to the other.

Night seems to be falling on our world, but rather than focus on the darkness, I want to focus on the light. ‘In Jesus was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’ 

Despite the pollution oozing everywhere, the light can still be seen. I see it in my friends and family and strangers. I saw it in church yesterday, breaking in through the worship, through the preaching, through the communion. Light in the darkness.

Let there be light, God commanded in the beginning. In the words of the children’s song, ‘This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.’ Like the moon: reflecting the light of the sun. May we all reflect the light of the Son.

Let it shine.

Migraine

Sometimes I am bothered with the flashing lights of a migraine, but thankfully, over the last few years, once they stop, it’s over. There is no lingering headache, for which I am very grateful.

Just prior to the flashing lights, I notice a blurring of focus. A sort of alert to expect incipient prisms of colour dancing round the periphery of my vision. I have learned over the years that if I choose to continue reading or writing or doing close work of any kind during these episodes, it is possible as long as I focus on the centre of my vision. One word at a time sort of thing. If the light show becomes too distracting, it’s time to close my eyes and wait it out. After twenty minutes or so my vision is restored.

Life is full of flashing lights. Things entice me away from my focus and if I am not disciplined, I can easily wander from my purpose and become caught up in all sorts of other things. Things that may be good, too, but that may not be what I should be focused on at this moment in time. 

I need discipline. Actually, I need the Holy Spirit to help me discern which are the flashing lights, and what is the focus for this moment, this hour, this day. There are times when I go with the flashing lights, and am left with the migraine headache. How weak I am, and how much I need to rely on God to help me make the right decision.

Sunshine or Shade?

Standing in the shade of a building this morning, I shivered and complained of the cold. Don responded that it was a beautiful day.

It is. He is right. The sun is out, doing its best to dispel the cold from its wintry distance. The birds are singing. The bulbs are up and the snowdrops are out and spring is on its way. 

It is so easy to complain of one thing and thereby miss the blessing of something else. Mea culpa. 

Focus. It’s no good focusing on what I don’t like because then I miss the wider picture and the blessings that go with it. 

The news is filled with dismal stories from round the world, but I’ve just been reading about how people are like grass, which withers and dies in the blink of an eye. Powerful people who wreak havoc across the nations will not be around forever. 

I don’t want to focus on situations which steal my peace and rob me of my joy. I don’t want to ignore them either, because I believe we are all to seek justice for the vulnerable and oppressed. One way to do that is to bring them before God, the Sovereign Lord who comes with power.  

Believing in the power of prayer, I have hope that things can change. 

The other thing I read in this Isaiah 40 passage is that those who have good news need to get out and share it. Jesus is good news. 

The good news of Jesus puts everything else into the shivery shade.

What lies beneath?

A few years ago we had the opportunity to snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Not being the best swimmer and never comfortable out of my depth, never mind out of sight of land, I prayed all the way out to the reef for peace not just to do it, but to really love seeing one of God’s great wonders of our world.

God answered that prayer in an amazing way and it remains one of the best experiences of my life.

One significant memory I have is the uncomfortable sensation of having choppy waves splashing in my face, propelled by the winds (which culminated in a hurricane later that night). That contrasted sharply with the utter peace and magical beauty of the underwater world when I put my facemask to the surface of the water and observed. It was breathtakingly beautiful and revealed a completely different reality, one in which life went on in an unhurried, lazy-looking way.

When storms and even hurricanes arise in our lives, it is so easy to focus on the choppy waters, the high winds, and the unknown but vividly imagined devastation to come. I am in such a situation now, but I am challenged, reminded, and calmed by the certainty that if I keep my gaze on Jesus, it is like looking at the peaceful culture of the underwater reef. Praising him for his love, his constancy, his presence, his participation in all that is going on to the benefit of all involved – whether or not I perceive it – encourages me to take a deep breath and renew my efforts to focus on him. 

The hurricane still hit Queensland that January day, fortunately after we had reached shore and disembarked from the boat! Jesus calmed his panicking disciples once when they were being tossed about in a violent storm, reassuring them of God’s care and protection – and then speaking peace to the wind and waves. 

He speaks peace to the storm in my life and yours today. The winds and waves may continue as events unfold, but if we can maintain the peace of Jesus deep within, we will have a significant victory. It may be a sign of Kingdom life which reveals Jesus to others.