An Hour Apart

My feet are numb with cold, having been the kick-off person in our monthly Prayer Room – which was unheated. In zero degrees, that represents a significant distraction.

However, I spent half the time meditating on the many names and titles of Jesus, which was amazing. To think, for instance, that I can call the Alpha and the Omega by his first name, Jesus, when I couldn’t even call the Queen by her first name – wow. That is some privilege, which I often take for granted.

Studies recently have revealed that our thought patterns have a physical effect on the wiring in our brains, so that if we are normally critical, for instance, our brains will be wired to take us down those familiar paths. We can change those paths, though, with God’s help. We can make decisions to reject negative thought patterns and every time we do that, and allow God to shape our thought patterns, our brains are re-wired. 

Sometimes when I am worshiping God my brain actually hurts. I wonder if he is rewiring it? I hope so. In fact, I believe he is.

Scripture tells us we have the mind of Christ. I am excited this morning to think that this is more than just encouraging words or wishful thinking, but could be a physical truth as we relax and rest in Jesus. As we reject the negative and choose the positive, turn away from the discouragement and towards the encouragement, see the good and not the evil, our brains are being changed.

My feet are warming up. It was a small price to pay for that precious hour apart. Have a wonderful day, and let the Lord rewire your brain to be the way he intended it to be.

Perspective

Places where I know no-one remain deserts in my heart. Maybe not so much deserts, as blank canvases. I don’t dislike them, but neither do I give them much thought. They are shapes on a map – uninhabited by anyone I love or know.

But as my family shifts around the world – as friends and fellow-believers move into countries previously unknown to me – my inner being sits up and takes notice, and I begin to pray for that place.

So it is that I find myself praying for Jamaica today, as Robbie heads off there on a mission trip. I am excited to hear stories of transformed lives, of healings, of new awakenings and deliverances. I’ve had my heart awakened to such a wide variety of places through the trips my kids have taken and the places they have lived – Guatemala, Nicaragua, Mexico, Cuba, The Gambia, Tanzania, India, the Philippines, Sierra Leone, Rwanda, Australia, France, Greece, the USA. 

Then, as I read of people persecuted for their faith, my perspective widens further. I begin to care for the people of Pakistan, Iran, Syria, Libya, Vietnam, China, Colombia ... the list is longer than it should be and growing. One wonders if one day some of our western countries will be added to that ignominious list of countries where religious freedom is curtailed.

Jesus knows someone in every corner of the world. Not just one or two people: he knows every individual. The good, the bad and the ugly. He created them, he loves them, he died for them. There are no blanks on his vision of the world. His perspective is truly global, and totally minute. 

He loves every single individual, and cares about what is going on in every life. He is there for you and me, right now, wherever you are as you read this. 

How can anyone not be grateful, and overwhelmed by his selfless love?

5 - 2

Fasting from food for two days a week seems to be the new miracle cure. Not only does it result in weight loss, but it also gives overworked organs a chance to rest and recover. 

Our bodies are such miracles of creation. I believe that God intervenes in startlingly miraculous ways sometimes to heal, but maybe the even greater miracle is that he has given us bodies with the innate ability to heal themselves. A child’s skinned knee, which scabs over while new skin is formed beneath the tear. The nuisance of the runny nose of a cold, which eventually dries up and equilibrium is restored. 

Perhaps the one ingredient required from us in this mix is time. We need to give ourselves time to heal. Time in bed when we are sick. Time off from eating when we are overweight. We need to find the rhythm of life which allows us to take time, without feeling guilty.

Our spirits, too, need time. To continually bombard our minds and ears with noise, with arguments and anxieties and stimulation, wears us out spiritually and gives us no time to experience the amazing reality of this world God has placed us in. 

We need to take time to sit and stare. To breathe deep. To enjoy the changing seasons. To laugh with a child, play with a dog or a cat. 

We need time to be. 

Will you join me today, and fast from busyness so that you can recover some of your balance and life? 

The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. It is the gift of God, and it can come in snatches every day, as well as in one big chunk on the weekend.

Elevator Pitch

Be prepared. Know what your book is about, and be able to ‘sell’ it to a publisher within sixty seconds if you find yourself riding the same lift at a Writer’s conference. 

That’s what I was advised when I went to such a conference a couple of years ago. I worked hard to hone the subject matter of the two books I had written. I practiced delivery, and each time I waited for a lift, my palms began to sweat as I imagined who might be in the lift when it finally came. 

I never did ride an elevator with a publisher. I did ride it with a girl even more nervous than I was, and we became friends during the course of the conference. 

I googled elevator pitch last night, expecting to find definitions relating to writing. Instead, all the entries I saw pertained to business ideas and marketing. 

Peter wrote to his readers, that they should always be prepared to give a reason for the hope they lived by. They should live exemplary lives that made people question their motivation, and then, when given the opportunity, they were to have their elevator pitch ready.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the reason for the hope I live by. People in these days don’t want to be preached at. They don’t want to have anyone push the Bible at them. 

But if I can live out my life, selflessly, sacrificially, lovingly, and with a positive, hope-filled attitude, people will notice. They will wonder. 

They will ask what impels me to live life like that.

I must get to work on my elevator pitch, but then again, Jesus counselled that we were not to worry what to say ahead of time, but that he would fill our mouths with the right words when we have the right opportunity. 

Mainly, I need to be connected to Jesus, so that when the chance comes, it’s his words that come out of my mouth, his words which are powerful and full of life. 

A well-crafted elevator pitch is just so many words. A living relationship with the King of Kings, well, that’s something to pursue.

Soft mud and snow patches

The sun is out but the snow patches are not melting. It is still bitterly cold, colder than it’s been for Easter in fifty years here. The dirt paths are still muddy messes, along which Dusty and I slithered our way this morning and again this afternoon. 

Jesus is the Son, the radiance of the Father’s glory. His love is warm and enveloping and should melt every cold heart. And yet, though yesterday was his day, the day on which he rose victorious over death and evil, the snow patches of many peoples’ hearts remained frozen and unmelting. 

How does that happen? How can people be utterly unmoved by the overwhelming love of God? How can they remain ice cold towards their creator and maker, who has given everything for them? 

How indeed.