Blazes

A log fell out of the fire last week, fusing the fibres of the rug and singeing the underlay. Had Don not been sitting there at the time, he might have been dealing with an inferno.

We love our open fire. It’s cheerful and alive, flaring and blazing and then settling into hot embers. It makes the room cosy not just because of the heat given off but also by the sense of companionship a living fire gives. It’s kind of a quiet, comforting friend.

But an open fire has obvious risk factors, and requires vigilance and care. On balance, we’re happy to manage the risks with smoke alarms and a fire guard and a regular chimney sweep.

People can be on fire for God. One might argue that a person filled with the Holy Spirit will be on fire for God – whether that fire is blazing or has settled into the warmth of glowing embers. That inner fire should draw those who are still ‘out in the cold’ to come near and warm themselves in God’s presence as expressed through a believer’s life. In God is found mercy and grace and forgiveness for all.

Jesus came for all, and he lived his life riskily. Many were drawn to his warmth; when they experienced his love, they were willing to abandon home and job and join him on the road. Others, though, were scorched by the truth he taught and lived. Full of pride or self-righteousness, convinced of the correctness of their own understanding, they criticised and judged others and eventually hung the prince of peace on a cross.

The world is a cold place just now, where at least one leader has rejected compassion for the vulnerable in preference for protection of his own kind. This is the time for the rest of us to fan our faith into flame, to stick close to the source and move through the world with compassion and love, exuding hope in our faithful and loving Father.

A Warm Embrace

The sun always makes me think of God. Of the Son. I don’t know why, because God is in the storm and snow and wind and rain, too. 

I suppose it is the idea that Jesus is the Light of the world. Sun = Light = Son.

Growing up in California the sun meant warmth if not downright heat. I’ve found it a bit more deceptive here in Scotland, and on a day like today, for instance, I could dive outside expecting a warm embrace and instead be startled by icy fingers.

Where there is sun, though, there is potential for warmth, potential for growth. In the one or two sundrenched corners round our home, where walls create a sun trap, the heat is teasing those bulbs into wake-up stretches after their winter of hibernation. It’s not all down to the sun, of course, as there are other factors at play – precipitation, nutrients, adequate space for growth.

End of February. Spring is around the corner. We are all stretching, tentatively, aware that there could be more winter weather to come, but beginning to reach up in response to the increased heat and light.

I heard faith defined as a response in a great sermon last week. (You can catch the talk on banchorywestchurch.com). As the Son reaches out to us in love, mercy and grace, it is the natural response to stretch back to be drawn into His embrace. And that is faith. Relationship with the Almighty Creator of the universe through his amazing, triumphant Son Jesus.

I may find icy fingers on my skin outside today, but I know when I dive into Jesus – through prayer or reading my Bible – I will find a warm embrace. Hallelujah....

Sunshine in a Vase

Returning to the north of Scotland from southern California in November is always a shock to the system. One of the main contrasts is the light – or lack of it. 

After a couple of weeks basking in a daily dose of warm sunshine, flying into Aberdeen in the late afternoon when it is already dark, buffeted by the wind and lashed by the horizontal rain...it can be a pretty unpleasant shock. Even though it is anticipated.

Still, sunshine awaited us, in the smiles of dear friends waiting to whisk us home, in the blooms of the yellow roses clutched in their hands and in the warmth of their greeting. 

It awaited us in the refrigerator in the form of a delicious risotto lovingly prepared by one of our dear daughters-in-law, and left with a few essentials to start us off again. 

It awaited us in the phone calls and text messages and emails welcoming us home.

Recently someone said something to me which I heard years ago from the pulpit. When asked what a certain place was like to live in, he responded that it depended on your attitude. If you went in ready to make the most of it, with a positive outlook and a cheerful visage, it was a wonderful place with lots of opportunities for new experiences and new friendships. If you went in reluctantly, expecting the worst, that is what you would find.

Life is what you make of it, in other words. We all face challenges. Some of us live in the sunshine and some live in the snow, but neither matters if the light of Christ is that which guides and empowers you. 

It’s good to be home, cold and dark though it is. It was good to be ‘home’ in California too, where I grew up and where part of my heart will always be. But either place, or indeed somewhere else, it is good to be alive in this beautiful world God has given us. 

We are all blessed by the sunshine of his love. May you bask in that today.