Virtual Church

All over the world, we believers congregate virtually, tuning in on YouTube or Zoom, Skype or something else. Some of it is chaotic. Confusing even. We’re not all techno marvels but it was wonderful this morning to connect, to see the smiles of faith family who we love so much and miss.

Having missed the link to the worship before the service, we worshiped in song after. It was so moving and powerful. I sensed that Church is on the move. Together we are moving forward following the light. What was on either side was unclear. Where we were headed was not visible. But the path was alight and we were on it, moving together, as one, making music in our hearts as we praised and loved the Lord with our voices, with our spirits.

So many green shoots are appearing. We just need to keep vigilant and keep moving. We follow the God of hope. We are filled with the spirit of love and power and life. We lift Jesus up, our Saviour and King.

Have a wonderful Sunday.

Light in the Darkness

Today I overflow with thanks as I worship with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Sjc37QPwLw

Ours is an amazing God. He is always working. He is always good. Always love. Always truth. Always peace. Always forgiveness. Always light in the darkness. Always hope. Always joy.

For days a grey mist has hung over this area of the world. This afternoon the blanket broke, striped with streaks of gold and pink, revealing a blue sky beyond. So much to thank God for. The grey mist may hang for a day or a month or a year, but God has the last word. The blanket will break and the light will shine and the world will worship with a thankful heart. Every knee will bow and every 

tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Jesus Christ is Lord. Amen.

Worship

A cooling, lively breeze ushered the hot, stuffy air from the hotel room each night when we opened the balcony door. And so we slept, without cover, serenaded by a chorus of crickets and the occasional caterwauling of dozens of feral cats.

We never completely mastered the nuances of the Greek alphabet. That requires more than a week, for these brains anyway. Even remembering the words for Please and Thank You usually eluded me.

Foreigners, in a hotel of foreigners. Russians, Poles, Czech, German, French, British. Most there for one thing: the sun. If I noticed any signs of worship over this last week, it was a complete devotion to the blazing heat of the sun.

We are created by God to worship. May I worship the Creator this day, and not, through my actions and attention, reveal a devotion to the created.

Worship and waffles

What do waffles and worship have in common, besides the alliteration? No obvious synergy there, but just back from my first taste of the combination and I can confirm that it is a winner.

Taste and see that the Lord is good. I have tasted. The worship was sensitive and profound, deep and meaningful. Within the worship set, we were invited forward to share bread and wine at the Lord’s table. Afterwards, we queued to share waffles and coffee, laughter and news.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. Waffles and worship. Who’d have thought?

Footprints of Grace

‘You are the King of Glory; You are the Prince of Peace.’ 

Several years ago I wrote an article, and then a book, encouraging myself and others to be more aware of the answers to prayer which God gives us daily. Sometimes those answers come with an exuberant ‘Yes!’ and we can readily give him praise. Those are the things he does for us. Sometimes those answers don’t seem to come at all, but in fact his answer may be that he is doing something in us, whether or not he does that something for us. And sometimes those answers come through us, without us being particularly aware that we’d even prayed a prayer. That’s when he has touched someone through a word or action on our part, and we have seen it.

‘Angels bow before you, worship and adore...’ Yes, and as I push myself into a heightened awareness of his action in my daily, often uneventful life, I, too, worship and adore.

This is autumn, the season of thankfulness as we see the fruits of our labours ripen and nourish ourselves and others. I’m recommitting myself to being more attentive to just what the Lord is doing in my life: for me, in me, and through me. Because I am sure that I often fail to see his footprints of grace, and therefore fail to give him the glory he deserves.

Hosanna to the King of Kings!

Yeast and Faith

Whenever I bake bread (rarely), I always have trouble getting the dough to rise, which I blame on the frigid nature of our old granite house. I do everything I can to raise the ambient temperature but am usually disappointed that it takes at least two or three times as long as it should to rise about half as high as it should. (Maybe I need to invest in a bread-maker.)

Yeast requires a certain environment in which to react and begin to work on the dough.

I was asked recently what I thought of loud, sometimes repetitive worship music in a service. I think there would have been a time when I would have found it boring or tedious. But over the years, I have come to love the privacy this sort of corporate worship affords: I drop in and out of the written lyrics, communing privately with God and then rejoining the congregation. It can offer times of profound worship and a real sense of the presence of God. 

Stay with me here because all these thoughts will coalesce. 

 Jesus warned his followers to be careful of the yeast of the Pharisees... the sincere religious types who really knew their theology. We are products of the Enlightenment and the age of reason, and so we are encouraged to rely on our brains and to be suspicious of our heart intelligence. 

I read the other day that faith is the expectation that God is always good and he will work in every situation. 

Worship music, repetitive or not but certainly sung from the heart, is the warmth that gets the faith rising in my heart. It is from that position of faith that I expect to see God to act – to see miracles. 

My fear is that in churches which rely on prescribed worship where the theological accuracy of the lyrics is the measure of its relevance, we miss out on that mystical faith-raising element which then releases hope and expectations.

Jesus told the man with leprosy who wanted to be healed and couched his request in a weak ‘if you are willing...’, ‘I am willing!’ Worship is the yeast that helps me recognise who it is I am asking for help, and know that he is willing.

Strengthen the Core

Strengthen the core. Pilates aims to do just that: when the core is strong, any unexpected or unusual pressures on extremities  can be handled without damage to the back. Crucial physically, but also spiritually. Without a strong core, we will slip spiritual disks, wrench compassion muscles, and tear relationship ligaments. 

Part of the core is receiving the forgiveness Jesus offers. Totally receiving it. Believing his assurance that we are forgiven and stepping out strong in the freedom we have from condemnation and fear. Not being disabled by subtle or sudden attacks which could otherwise undermine our purpose. 

Part of the core is understanding our identity as children of the King, seated with Jesus in heaven and operating out of the authority that conveys.

Part of the core is the tap root of love for Jesus, with its various tributary roots of love for even the most unlovable. 

Whatever it takes – time immersed in the Bible, praising with worship CDs, silence before him, heart-felt prayer – I am going to strengthen my spiritual core today.

Condition of the heart

This is the week I seem to have truly joined the 21^st century. Well, sort of. I’ve joined Facebook, with much trepidation but already have been rewarded with connecting with some friends who have moved away or moved out of my everyday circle. 

This morning I’ve ripped CDs onto the computer successfully, all by myself, and then synched them to my MP3 player. Now I’m just charging said MP3. 

Mainly I wanted it updated as I purchased a teaching CD set for Russian, which we are struggling to learn. I think if I can just listen to it perhaps my pronunciation won’t be so pathetic.

The thing is, Russian is guttural. I mean way down there in the throat somewhere. The books say a bl sounds like the y in physics, but not when you hear a native say it. I’ve tried pointing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, grinning inanely with mouth closed, grunting rather grossly, and none of it sounds like my friend. So maybe I can copy what the speaker on the CD sounds like.

I remember learning French when I was about 14 and the teacher having us practice saying the u in tu by starting with our mouths in a grin and then gradually pulling our lips into a tight purse as though we were going to whistle. Hilarious and I’m not sure many of us succeeded. 

Human beings have the same mouths, lips, tongues, throats, the world over, but somehow some languages struggle with saying an l or an r, and definitely I am struggling with some of these Russian sounds. 

God made us in his image, but we all have different ways of expressing ourselves, linguistically and in worship. Some are expressive and expansive, some are quiet and private, and God loves us all. The thing is, the condition of the heart matters more than the position of the body.

Brave

It takes courage to live life to the full. It takes courage not to let the set-backs crush you. But God is always for us, always with us, always willing us to invite him in to strengthen us. He enables us to live life bravely.

A worship song on the new album from Bethel church in California celebrates God’s faithfulness in making us brave. In calling us away from the safety zones we crouch inside and strengthening us to take risks, to live life on the edge, fully immersed in him.

I experienced what I can only describe as his miraculous enabling when Don and I visited the Great Barrier Reef a few years ago. An extremely nervous swimmer, I never swim in open water and the thought of slipping into the sea twenty-five miles out, with no land in sight, is enough to give me the heebie-jeebies. I didn’t want to steel myself to do what I felt was a ‘must-do’ on a visit to Australia; I wanted to embrace the beauty of God’s magnificent creation and be amazed. 

I prayed for courage for the twenty-five mile boat ride, sucking on ginger tablets to stave off any seasickness. (A hurricaine was due the next day.) By the time the boat reached the first anchor point, I was excited to get into the water and see what lay beneath. God made me brave. He removed all fear and replaced it with a sense of awe and wonder at what did lie beneath the waves.

God is faithful, full of love and yearning for us to experience more of life by letting go of our fears and trusting in him. 

Today, the grief for my wee Dusty goes on, washing in waves over me, but I know that God is even more faithful than Dusty was. He is always waiting for me, yearning for me to turn to him, to speak to him, to cry out to him, to trust in him and then to step out, or swim out, from the boat of security in which I usually recline and go where he calls me.

He fills me with courage.