Chavs or Foxes ...

I’ve been calling them hanging chavs, but in the back of my mind has been the word ‘foxes’. Yes. This morning I found it in Song of Songs. ‘Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom.’ (2:15). In the paraphrase The Message, ‘Then you must protect me from the foxes, foxes on the prowl, foxes who would like nothing better than to get into our flowering garden.’

Chavs or foxes, it’s obviously not a modern problem. Nuisances which can distract and undermine joy and love and life. I had some success with ejecting one little fox yesterday, only to be met with another slightly bigger one this morning when this laptop froze. A help forum and a husband later, and I am back in business and that pesky fox is outta here.

This is the day the Lord has made. As it happens, it is the day the French celebrate Bastille Day, the day of liberation of political prisoners from the dreaded jail in Paris at the start of the French Revolution. It is also the day when, thirty years ago, my dear sister Judy was liberated from her disease-wracked body and went home to Jesus. It was incredibly fitting since Judy was a Francophile and loved everything French. I miss her still, maybe more poignantly in recent years as I walk our ageing mother home, on my own. 

Her death was a disaster to me and could have been a huge marauding fox in my spiritual garden. But the Lord caught that fox and through the pain has drawn me closer to himself. 

So, this is the day the Lord has made, and through the tears I see the rainbow, and give thanks to Jesus for his faithfulness as he has used that fox to take me deeper into him. Still through the tears, though.

Walking With ...

As the meeting ended last night, one elder offered to walk another one home. Two elders asked another for a lift. 

We were built to accompany each other. To keep one another safe. To help carry one another when the journey is hard or long. 

I love the story of the disciples trudging in dejection towards Emmaus on the first Easter day. Some of their friends were claiming that Jesus had risen from the dead, but they knew what crucifixion was and knew that there was no way he could be alive again. A mysterious stranger joined them and they had a deep discussion as they carried on to their destination, finally inviting the stranger in to stay with them. It was as he broke the bread and thanked God for the food that Jesus was recognised. Jesus was alive. He had overturned the ‘no way’ and made a way. Jesus had walked with them on the lonely, hard road, sharing truths and challenging their ideas. They hadn’t recognised him.

My mother walked with me through all my growing up years – actually, she’s walked with me metaphorically all my life. What a privilege it is now to walk the hard road with her as she trudges through her 90’s. What a blessing Skype and the internet are for easing communication and enabling stewardship of her resources even from a distance. 

During these last few difficult months of transition I’ve been very aware of the presence of Jesus, whispering encouragement and bringing peace and giving guidance. I wouldn’t say I’ve been very creative or profound but I have felt the comfort and love of our Saviour and known that he is on the lonely road with Mom and me. 

I’ve also been privileged to be aware of the physical presence and willing spirits of a few special people gathered round Mom and me on that road – Mhairi, Shirley, Mark and Son. A little further out and there are others, willing to help in a practical way where they can. Sandi, Jeb, Anne, others. And on the phone, sending cards, gifts and prayers are Don, Jamie & Chrisie, Robbie & Emma, Doug & Joey (and even wee Flick). All trudging the path with us.

Beyond that, I’ve been overwhelmed by the spiritual support of a cohort of Christian family from round the world holding Mom in prayer as she has adjusted to new circumstances. God is so good. There is nothing more precious than the family of God walking each other home, home to where there are no more tears, no more sorrow, no more separations, no more pain. 

No airports in heaven. It’s gonna be great. 

Meanwhile, that lonely path is more crowded with loving people than you might imagine. Look around and count your blessings. And see where you can join someone on their lonely path today. That’s what I’m going to do. On Food Bank duty today.

Over the Rainbow

Some days the longing for that elusive paradise over the rainbow is stronger than others. Some days it might be for myself, but other days it’s for someone I love.

That’s the thing about love. It has such capacity to bring joy, and such capacity to break hearts. In its pure form it is so generous, going way beyond emotion to practical action. No love purer than that of God for his children. Such love took Jesus through the appalling agony of the cross in order to get us ‘over the rainbow’. 

As Dorothy found out in The Wizard of Oz, ‘over the rainbow’ isn’t some distant future place but is here and now, because Jesus’ love takes us places we can only go with Him. His kingdom comes here and we can live in it now, and yet ...

And yet our hearts still ache for completion. For fulfilment. For the peace that comes when a mother hen has finally gathered in all her chicks under her wings and knows they are safe. For the peace that comes when the longings in our heart are met. 

His Kingdom will come in its complete form one day, when there will be no more sadness, no more tears, no more pain. But today, many an emotion-laden voice is crooning, ‘somewhere over the rainbow’. 

And I’m humming along.