Snakes and Ladders

A nearly-three-year-old can be such fun – especially when she’s your granddaughter. Seaton Park yesterday was a summer’s day: alive with locals who appreciated the warmth and sunshine. Strangers laughed and chatted with each other, relaxed by the warmth of the sun. 

So Gramma was up and down on the climbing frames, playing make-believe games of visiting one another with gifts which looked like the bark on the ground but in our minds were perhaps bacon and eggs, sweet cakes, or even wine! Meanwhile Mama monitored 9-month-old Gregor, who is determined to keep up with his big Sis while tasting the rich curiosities on the ground. 

Neither child is risk-averse, so as Flick swung herself out over the steps which stand four or five feet off the ground, Joey instructed her (I think) in Viet to hold on with both hands and go down facing the ladder. Briefly Flick complied, and then I noticed a flash of rebellion as she glanced towards Joey and turned the opposite way, holding on with one hand and nearly coming a cropper. Oh, how fun to be the Gramma, not the Mama! 

Paul talks about people who look in a mirror and immediately forget what they see...sometimes I read the Bible and acquiesce to its teaching but then go away and immediately do the opposite. Not a good trait, and I was reminded yesterday in the gentlest way that it starts young. And even after a lifetime, that streak of independence is a stubborn root.

Freedom

Dog walking today. My friend was here with her dog; I of course knew a suitable walk, which I hadn’t done with a four-legged friend for six months or more. So off we went.

Maya is a puppy, a great big bear of a cuddly giggle, a totally different personality from either of the dogs I’ve owned and walked here. She bounced and bounded a few feet and then checked out where ‘mum’ was, to make sure she was still there. Both Dusty and Magic were explorers, more than happy to run ahead and then reach that distance where they seemed to rocket into hyperspace and Dusty would then disappear into the woods for up to ten hours, returning when exhausted, tail between her legs to show contrition but a bit of a wag to confirm that yes, it had been fab.

Freedom. Maya is content to have her freedom limited by maintaining proximity to her owner. She will grow up and bloom and blossom in that dependent relationship and sense a safety and a freedom in it. My two dogs longed to run and run and run, oblivious to my whistles and shouts, and return when it suited them. They would come back dirty and dishevelled, often stinking of dirty ditch water, sometimes carrying ticks and thorns and developing internal worms later from the decaying carrion they may have crunched down.

Jesus said to his friends that if they remained faithful to his teaching, then they would know the truth and the truth would set them free.

It’s not always easy to remain faithful to God’s teaching. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of something which entices us away. There is a whiff of something which tantalises and tempts us to go into territory which we know is out of God’s bounds for us. His bounds are there to protect us and somehow within those bounds, we are free to become all that he has created us to be. 

When we stray from the way Jesus has set for us, in those moments of rebellion we realize that paradoxically, by striking out on our own we have forfeited our freedom. We are likely to pick up ticks and thorns and worms. Yuck.

It’s as we walk on the path, as we remain faithful to Jesus’ teaching, that the truth is revealed to us and we recognise what true freedom really is.

Jesus said I am the way and the truth and the life. Follow me. Sticking with me along the way, you will discover absolute freedom. 

The only way to test this out is just to do it.

Be refreshed

I lift my eyes to the hills, the psalmist writes. Looking up at the hills or the mountains changes my perspective. The tendency is to look down, to focus in on my own footsteps through each day, and these become all important and all consuming. When I look up, and see the vista God has arranged, layers of responsibility are shed as I recognise my own insignificance and rejoice in the Big Picture.

With the world in the mess it is just now, threats and violence commonplace, it is easy to keep my head down and my focus on such things. When I lift my eyes to the hills, to the heavens – when I shift my gaze from the chaos to the peace of God, my soul is restored and refreshed. 

I don’t get it. The world is full of violence and misery, of injustice and pain, and yet we have a great God, a loving God who created a beautiful world and who is all powerful. There is a paradox which I accept: a loving God, all powerful, who does not fix the misery but allows it to continue. I explain it by recognising that this loving God has granted us free will, so that we will choose to love him and not love him out of duress. Loving him brings with it the concomitants of peace and joy and hope, so what’s not to love? 

Perversely, rebellion tempts us at every turn and with rebellion come disharmony and mayhem. So today, I lift my eyes to the hills and pause, breathing slowly and rhythmically, focusing on the God who loves us so much that he died for us. Such love. 

May you take time to pause today when things overwhelm, when temptations rise, when despair beckons. Lift your eyes and adjust your perspective. And be refreshed.