Rain Fire

There are times when it can feel that the things I offer to God become drenched in life’s vagaries. I do things because I feel led by God; I pray in faith for things in response to his direction; yet they sit in a puddle and don’t ignite. It can be discouraging.

Elijah watched as the Baal worshippers worked themselves into a frenzy in order to persuade their god to light their dry fire. Nothing happened. No response from their idol.

Then, instructing that the wood on the altar built to God be saturated in water, Elijah prayed a simple prayer. Lord, light my fire; accept this offering to you. A fire blasted from heaven, igniting and consuming the sacrifice.

There is a lot of worldly junk around just now, trying to quench the fire within us. The more drenching, the more prayer: come on, Lord, light the fire of revival here in this place, here in this nation, here in this world.

Start with me.

Those who trust in the Lord bear fruit even in a season of drought. May we all trust, and see others enjoy the fruit of the Spirit.

The Gift

Gifts. I have been so blessed in life, receiving gifts that were thoughtfully chosen, that required self-sacrifice. I have been blessed, too, in having the means to choose gifts for others.

There is such joy in giving a gift. It is so much fun when you find that gift which is just perfect for someone you love. Often that gift is found when you’re not really looking for it.

I received the gift of the Holy Spirit when I was not expecting it. The Giver knew, though, that I was really looking for it, and was in a position to receive, open, and value it. Even the faith to receive the gift, was a gift. I didn’t – don’t – deserve such a gift.

In The Message paraphrase of the Bible, a couple of verses in Romans are rendered, ‘Abraham entered into what God was doing for him, and that was the turning point. He trusted God to set him right instead of trying to be right on his own.’ ‘…it’s something only God can do’ ‘…Sheer gift.’

Sheer gift, which cost God more than I can even take in. A gift which he was prepared to give, despite the sacrifice. A gift which he was excited to give. A gift which gives him joy to give.

Part of the joy in gift-giving is seeing the surprise and joy in the person receiving it. How heart-breaking for God, to find his priceless gift, the gift of salvation, left on the floor, unopened, unvalued. Not received by so many. And yet, received by every believer, but sometimes taken for granted, forgotten about, unvalued.

I’ve still got the wee bleed spot on my wrist, a poignant reminder of the price of the gift, inspiring a thankful heart, a grateful spirit. I hope it doesn’t go away before I’ve made it a habit to thank Jesus every time I notice my wrist, marked or not.

What a gift. What a Giver.

Circle of Bruising

I notice a small circle of bruise on my wrist, and wonder where that came from. Being on a blood-thinner, it is probably just a broken vessel which has leaked a spot there. Nothing of concern.

As the lock-down continues into the foreseeable future, with ominous comments about it stretching forward for months or even a year, we may notice signs of brokenness in our own lives that we didn’t know were there. This morning I noticed a slight malaise, a vague dissatisfaction as I awoke after a good night’s sleep. No reason for it that I can identify.

This is where our free will comes in. I can choose to go with the malaise. I can blame it on the disruption in relationships because of the lockdown. Missing sons and daughters-in-law and grandchildren. Anxiety for Mom. I can blame it on fear of the future and catching the virus. The brief brush of the forehead to see if I have a temperature. The swallowing to check my throat isn’t sore after all. I can blame it on dissatisfaction with Zoom meetings, which are great and yet a torture at the same time, reminding me of what we have lost through this isolation. Missing hugs. Missing spontaneous laughter.

Instead, I am choosing to be reminded of Jesus’ death on the cross, and I am using the tiny circle of bruising as a touchstone with that. Every time I see it, I am going to say, Thank you, Jesus, for saving me. I choose to chase after a more thankful heart. I choose to renew my mind through Holy Spirit immersion.

I am only human…but I AM human. Filled with the Holy Spirit of God. Saved for eternity with him.

Thank you, Jesus.

Hosanna!

Sitting with my back to the window, I heard a kerfuffle and turned. Two cock pheasants, resplendent in their glorious colourful feathery attire, faced off against one another. Tiny heads bobbed and poked aggressively. Clawed feet stepped to the side, forward and back, as they challenged each other for territory, for power, for position. Wings outstretched, fluttered aggressively, with agitation. It was an Attenborough moment. I could imagine his velvet tones describing this ritual in the natural world and explaining what was really going on.

Nations posture and challenge one another. Politicians and leaders strut and proclaim, seeking to gain, or hold on to, power. We watch and listen, struggling to determine what is truth, what is fake, what is safe, what is reckless. We yearn for someone to explain what is really going on.

Hosanna to the Son of David. Hosanna to the King of Kings. Glory in the highest heavens, for Jesus the Messiah reigns.

How often that old chorus comes to mind and I sing out some of the names of our Saviour. Hosanna. Save, help. If ever the world needed the Saviour, it is now. How much clearer can it be, that we mess up? That we don’t know what to do to fix the messes we make? That we are helpless without God?

Hosanna to the King of Kings. Jesus. Hear our cry for your world, Lord. Thank you that you are the God of hope, and that we can look to you for salvation, for light, for life and truth and grace and peace. Hosanna, Lord. Thank you that you hear us, that you are always with us, and that as you inspire us, so we can help lead this wounded world into a new chapter. Give us vision and strength to imagine and achieve change, to partner with you in enabling mercy and justice to reign. Vision and strength, Lord Jesus. Grace to imagine and pray. Peace to accept our helplessness with humility and to trust in you for everything. Gratitude and hearts full of praise.

Hosanna.

Life Strategy

A curtain of fog hung over the land this morning, obscuring all in its swirling raw dampness. We could not see beyond the nearest point in the fields. Yet the birds were singing; above the cloud, the sun was shining, and before long warm rays broke through and beamed a light down. Gradually, the mist dissipated and the view returned.

Every news report seems to lead with the most recent 24-hour death count, draping a pall of doom over us all. But yesterday on Facebook I saw the smiling faces of dear young people in Illinois, welcoming the birth of their fourth baby with exclamations of joy. An atmosphere of death cannot stifle the power of life. Life, light and love will break through. God is the Lord of Life.

It was a quiet Easter, but a powerful one. Living through the chaos of this pandemic, where nobody has suggested a strategy which guarantees a safe exit from the lock downs, it is comforting to know that God has a strategy. Even at creation, he recognised that a pall of death would threaten us and would require his personal intervention as the Lord of Life.  

Remain in me, Jesus told his friends, and I will remain in you. Nothing can separate us from the Lord of Life. Rooted in Jesus, may we all bear the fruit he is bringing at this time, whatever that may look like.

A Beautiful Morning

The glow of a golden dawn tinged the delicate pink blooms of the flowering cherry tree, giving them a richness and depth. The cherry tree was a gift from a friend thirty-four years ago when my sister died. The colour is a beautiful reminder of the gentle touch of the Father on our deepest griefs; his love doesn’t take away the pain but reminds us that whatever challenges we face, we never walk through them alone.

Sitting in the prayer window, I watch as a pair of geese fly low over the field. In silence. Usually I hear them coming, but this pair were perhaps just enjoying the beauty of the awakening spring morning. Aware of each other’s companionship.

Our precious daughter is on the flight from LA this morning, on her way to London. Tomorrow she should be making her way home to Scotland. Thanks be to God. It’s a beautiful morning.

Peace

I have time to stop and stare, out the kitchen window, watching as the wee birds house-hunt. One, perhaps a blue tit (I’m hopeless at identifying birds), clings to the perch outside the red birdhouse that nestles in the holly bush. His wee head bobs this way and that as he – I assume – checks out the safety of this place. Then he pokes his head into the hole, and disappears for a moment or two.

Meanwhile, at the multi-story pink bird house, a different sort of bird is performing some sort of dance routine on one of the perches. Suddenly a second bird pops out of the hole and flits to the nearby bush. The dancing bird pops over to her but she’s not in the mood, I guess…

My peace I give to you, Jesus said. In the midst of this pandemic, those who, like me, have time to stop and stare and receive the peace of Christ, are privileged beyond belief. How can we complain of anything? It is relatively straightforward for us to receive Jesus’ peace.

My prayer this morning is for the key workers on the front lines, exhausted and emotionally spent, frightened and distanced from their loved ones. I pray that in the midst of their exhaustion they will receive the peace of Jesus, that his peace will overwhelm and comfort and encourage them.

My prayer is also for those who are isolating in small flats, those who are penned in with abusive partners or parents, those who are vulnerable physically and mentally, and for those whose financial security has been ripped away from them. May the peace of Jesus Christ overwhelm them, a peace that the world cannot understand, a peace that makes no sense in the middle of the distress and fear.

May those of us who are so privileged, use our isolation well. May we write encouraging letters, make friendly phone calls, campaign for change and justice, and pray for a vaccine and an effective treatment of Covid-19.