Gems in the Hedges

My fingers are stained purplish red. Yes, it’s that time of year, and I’m just in from an hour dodging the thorns of gorse bushes and wild roses to bring in some big and beautiful brambles – local word for blackberries.

When we moved here thirty years ago, the narrow country lanes were littered with cars pulled in to the verge as folk got out and picked the crop of wild brambles. Now, the occasional cyclist stops and picks a few, but other than that I seem to be one of the last.

But is there anything more bursting with flavour and colour than a bramble crumble? Hard to beat.

Perhaps people are just too busy to linger along the roadsides or spend a few minutes in the kitchen. Perhaps they don’t know what they’re missing. Or perhaps they’ve never noticed these little gems twinkling in the autumn sun.

Sometimes they are obscured and need a keen eye to find. Sometimes they are just hanging out there invitingly. They take a bit of time to pick and a bit of effort to prepare, but not much, for the returns.

Many of God’s blessings are like the brambles. They are there, twinkling in the undergrowth of our lives, and we may not even notice them, recognise them for what they are, or thank the giver for his generous gifts. If we don’t do anything about them, they may wither away and never be gathered in to feed others.

May you find many gems in the hedges of your spiritual hearts, in the web of your daily life, lavished on you by the God who loves you so much. Savour them for what they are: unmerited gifts from an Almighty Father.

Squirrels

Squirrels are busy at this time of year, gathering and storing food to see them through the winter months which they know are coming. It is an annual event and they have a rhythm to their year which, if they ignore, will cause them suffering, misery, and probable death.

Nobody who has a radio, television or internet access can be unaware of the serious darkness that is palpably spreading across the Middle East, driving out life and light. Where this darkness will end is an unknown, but our need to stand against it is obvious. 

As Christians, we worship Jesus, the Light of the world, and now more than ever we need to be praying that his light will penetrate the deep darkness wherever it manifests, abroad or at home. We need to be vigilant and persevering in prayer and never give up.

Our faith should lead to action, and we should be speaking out against abuses, injustices, and discrimination wherever and whenever we see it. Secularism will reduce everything to a very low common denominator and we believers need to call out the gold in people, to refresh their memory of God or introduce them to him for the first time. We need to be more active than ever just now, like the squirrels preparing for winter.

And on a personal level, we should be storing up Scripture in our memories for a time when we might just not have Bibles lying all over the house. I’m speaking to myself there.

Jesus said to keep alert. Keep busy. Focus in on God, grateful that he has the power to change everything.

The Parable of the Renegade Calf

Ensconced in my prayer window this morning, I saw a parable enacted out in the field before me.

Two huge tractors driven by farmers, father and son, roared up the road and parked, blocking the quiet road from either side to make a corridor between fields. Then the son zipped into the field and called and whistled until about a dozen cows and their calves paraded, in a line, to him, past him and across the road into the field of greener grass. 

I didn’t have a view of the entire field, as we sit in the middle of it, but I saw one calf break ranks and head for the far corner of the field. There was much lowing and mooing and bellowing and one of the farmers leapt into a tractor and drove at a triangular angle to the calf. I thought I would see it circle back and ‘herd’ the frightened beast from the one field to the other.

But instead the tractor disappeared round the back, and within minutes, a couple of dozen more cows, calves and the white bull came into view, moving along quite smartly in a fairly orderly line towards the son beckoning to them from the gate. The renegade calf, encouraged by the sight of more of her kind, dashed across and joined the queue headed for the other field. 

The farmer didn’t need to go after that calf on its own. He just needed to gather the rest of the herd and she happily joined in.

I said it was a parable but I feel a bit like the disciples with Jesus, asking him what it meant. Because I feel like there is deep meaning to be gleaned from this, but I’m not entirely sure I know what it is.

Could it be that some of us are like the renegade calf, refusing to join the others initially but then racing to join up when the rest of the group seemed ok with the plan? Perhaps we hesitate to follow Jesus, unsure that he is leading us to greener pastures, but when we see a ‘critical mass’ of others following we take courage and fall into line. 

Could it be a picture of God, like the farmer, who has lots of tactics for encouraging us to choose life, to choose sustenance, and will not give up on us until we make the right choice? God, like the farmer, has our welfare in mind but God, unlike the farmer, has no ulterior motives (fattening up the beasts for market) and just wants us to come into relationship with him and enjoy the benefits of tasting heaven even while living on earth. 

I will mull over this picture today and see if anything else is to be gleaned from it...

The Blueberries and the Frog

Two blueberry bushes in the garden have been there for two years. Previously there were never any berries ripening to maturity because I didn’t cover them, and the fat birds had a feast. This year I reckoned it was my turn for a feast. So I stretched a green plastic netting over the top to allow them to ripen in the sunshine.

Last week Don found a bird dead in the netting, strangled. We hated that, but I was still eager to bring in a berry harvest so left the netting on.

Today I went out to bring in what might be ready and noticed something which I took to be a mushroom having grown up through the netting. It’s been wet on and off the last few days. I flicked the netting up and realized how heavy this brown blob was, and then it started to flail about.

To my horror I recognized a wee frog entangled in the plastic netting. I zipped into the house for scissors and spent a quarter of an hour gently snipping green plastic, first freeing his feet, then his body. Poor wee thing was desperate to escape and began trying to hop, which made me fear for its safety as it too might have strangled itself.

Nothing else for it. I had to gently cradle the frog’s body in my left hand and snip away at the tangled mess under its heaving chest, finally releasing the last bit of plastic gripping his neck. And he was free. 

I was delighted to see him hop away, first rather tentatively. Maybe he was just exhausted. Who knows how long he had struggled in the trap of mesh. Once he’d regained his breath, or his strength, he clambered off into the undergrowth fringe of weeds. 

Our heavenly father often finds us trapped in sin, strangling as we struggle to escape. We must look a bit like frogs (in other words, not exceptionally beautiful!) but our father gently picks us up (without garden gloves, too!) and tenderly disentangles us, bit by bit, until we can stagger off to live another day.

I’m still enjoying the sense of success from freeing the trapped frog. I hope that our heavenly father has a moment now and then to savour the sense of satisfaction from freeing another of his children from the grip of sin. 

We are so blessed. And I am thankful.

Hope springs eternal

‘Hope springs eternal’ was a favourite phrase of my mother-in-law, usually said in relation to a raffle or lottery ticket. 

In our world of conflict and spreading darkness, hope is a mind-set in short supply. I hear people expressing fears about the outcome of the conflict in Ukraine, whether it will draw us all into an Armageddon scenario. The news jerks from one nation under siege and in a failing way to another. World leaders wring their hands, make pronouncements, but after the disastrous interventions of recent years are reluctant to do more than impose sanctions. Indeed, what can they do?

They could do as King Hezekiah did several thousand years ago, when the threat came from Nineveh and he knew his own small country hadn’t the power to resist an all out attack. He went to God. He threw himself on his knees before God and asked that God would intervene on their behalf. And God did.

In these days when a black tsunami seems to be gaining momentum, power, and is headed our way, as a Christian I place my hope and trust in the Prince of Peace and the Light of the World. I call on Jesus to penetrate the darkness with the light of his truth and to speak the words of power which he uttered on the Sea of Galilee, ‘Peace, be still’. I expect to see the approaching tsunami collapse, subside, and for peace to be restored.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. God does not want us to crouch in fear but to walk in faith. He is an Almighty Father, a powerful Lord, whose very essence is love. Put your trust in him today, and stay alert to notice the differences that makes to the smaller tsunamis in your life.