Out of the Picture

 

Mhairi suggested we look at our wedding albums from over fifty years ago. Pictures were few compared to the chronicling of today’s weddings, but we enjoyed the professional pictures on the day, and the snapshots popped into the albums, taken by various friends and relatives.

One such snap was of Don’s aunt and cousins and their families. We identified each person for Mhairi, and in the next picture there was an additional middle-aged man, not in the previous shot. ‘Who’s he?’ she asked.

The father of Don’s cousin’s wife, Cindi. He must have been the photographer of the previous picture. In the days before selfies, someone had to take the camera and remove themselves from the picture. Someone had to choose to be left out of a ‘forever’ memory.

I’ve been thinking about humility, a fundamental quality in a follower of Jesus but one which is challenging to really live in. How hard it is to choose to be left out of any accolades which we might feel we have ‘earned’. How difficult to not just accept but actively step into a position of invisibility.

This day, Lord Jesus, help me to truly take myself out of any picture in which I feel I merit praise. May all of my words and attitudes spring from my relationship with you, reflect your glory, and be attributed to you. I can only do this with your help; fill me with your Holy Spirit again and strengthen me to walk humbly before God, living to pursue justice and mercy in these days. Amen.

Out of the Trash

 

The morning was a glorious one. Purple and gold crocus are vibrant against the spring green of the leaves and grass. Delicate white and green snowdrops continue to flower in the beds.

I wanted to finish what Don had begun while I was away: plant the sweet peas. He’d gathered the toilet roll tubes I’d been saving over winter, and started filling them with compost. I finished the job, burying one seed in each tube of compost and watering them after I’d positioned them on the window ledge of the conservatory.

I’m expecting to see new growth at just the right time, pushing through the dirt.

Nothing is wasted in God’s kingdom economy. A cardboard toilet roll tube is the perfect plant-pot for the deep roots of the sweet peas. When the time comes to set them out, it’s easy to plop each tube into the appropriate holes and watch them flourish.

Things which I may consider a waste of time in my life may in fact provide the perfect container for my next spurt of growth, a spurt of growth which might bloom and exude the fragrance of Jesus, which attracts those whose noses have been more accustomed to smelling the rot and decay of some of the stuff that goes on in the world. May the beauty of our Lord be revealed.

I offer up all of my experiences, Lord, good and bad, for you to use to your glory. ‘Behold, I make all things new,’ you promise, and I declare that promise now over all those trashy decisions and experiences I’ve made and had. As I surrender all to you, I thank you for all that you are growing as a result of the richness in the compost of my life.

it is good

Dressed in the drab colours of winter, the fields outside lie apparently dormant, awaiting the tingling warmth of a returning spring sun.  After two weeks in the sunshine of California (and the rain), the contrast is noticeable. Also noticeable is the chorus of birdsong lilting through the air. Along the coast where I was, the only birds I saw were pelicans returning to their nests each evening. I never heard their ‘song’.

It’s good to be back. Two places geographically very different, but each displays its own beauty, its own charm.

After six days, God looked at what he had created, and he saw that it was good. Better than that. 

Popping with glory

 It’s the quality of the light, and the vibrancy of the Mediterranean colours that I love. The view from my cousin’s house pops with stunning brightness and depth and sings out a love song to our awesome creator God. I am so full of praise and gratitude for all he is and has done and is doing in our world. I am awestruck by the detail of his blessing. All those things that so exercised me yesterday, he sorted early on, so I was able to truly enjoy the rare treat of a small gathering of cousins.

I am also so full of gratitude to him for the gift of extended family. I so miss the counsel of my big sister during these days, but God gave me cousins who are happy and willing to come alongside, despite living in scattered places across the country.

I’m off to hold Mom’s hand again, reassure her of my love, and remind us both that this is just the prelude to real life. And that Jesus is with us in every step we take.

In Every Teardrop

 In every teardrop, there is a rainbow.

Eleven years ago we moved Mom into assisted living, out of the family home she had lived and loved in for 64 years. She vacillated between agreement with the need for the move, and resentment and opposition. It was a hard time. A wilderness time.

On one of those dark days, though, I remember crying as I drove between her home and the new place of residence, praying as I cried. And impressed on my heart by our loving God were the words of that promise, In every teardrop, there is a rainbow. Maybe that is one reason I really love rainbows.

Mom and I have navigated a wilderness journey since then. I am often bewildered and lost in decisions I feel unqualified to make. In those moments I hear Mom’s adage in better times, ‘everyone is just doing their best’, and know she would say that to me now if she were more aware. I also hear echoes of my dad’s advice, ‘make a decision, pull up your socks and do it.’ I find it amazing to look back and see how many times during these years I have made faltering decisions in faith, praying that as God sees me doing my best he will make up the shortfall.

And as I’ve pulled up my socks, I have seen him do it.

Thinking of wilderness, of Jesus being led into the wilderness for forty days, and of these wilderness years since Dad died, I am aware of the many miracles I have seen while out here with Mom. Even yesterday, calling Social Security, which can entail an hours long wait for someone to answer, we were through to a very helpful girl in five minutes. And then, as she had to seek approval from Mom for me to speak on her behalf, we watched in amazement as Mom clearly answered the questions, stating her name, her date of birth, and even my full name. Miracle upon miracle.

Today is my last full day here, and I have a wonderful gathering of five of us cousins, but I also have to tie up a few loose ends which are out of my control. I will continue to focus on Jesus, with his help, and trust that these things will resolve without problem and satisfactorily.

I am aware of so many praying for us. Thank you. I am grateful to God for a digital connection to friends who are staunch supporters. God bless you. 

In every teardrop there is a rainbow.

The Enough

The enough.

I know that the Lord’s blessings can come, pressed down and overflowing, and I have experienced so much abundance in my life because of his lavish grace. My heart sings with gratitude to the merciful Lord who loves me.

I also know that he is the God of the ‘enough’.

One of the things that I’ve seen over the years of helping Mom is the way he always provides the enough. There are situations which I find baffling and beyond me, and I can feel alone and wishing so much my dear sister were still here to make decisions together, but invariably God has sent someone to answer the sometimes silent cry of my heart.

Yesterday was such a day. There is a confusion over the payment for the bed and wheelchair Mom requires. Insurance stuff here is so confusing, even for those who have navigated it for years, but more so for someone like me who moved out of the system decades ago.

Two cousins visiting. One retired from a career in geriatric social work. She has gently and quietly come alongside and made some calls. We now await a quick response but I am so grateful that for this need, God sent the enough in the beautifully calm action of Deb.

The Lord be praised.

High expectations

 I see up close the real consternation of someone I love who is captured by inherited expectations. Lunar new year may be a day of celebration, but it is also a time where certain provisions and specially prepared foods must be on the table for the ancestors. There is anxiety, much rushing around to find ingredients, to prepare food, to exchange small gifts with many others.

High expectations create chains that bind.

I came to set the captives free, Jesus declared. Love the Lord and your neighbour. Act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God.

Christian expectations are also high, but with the Holy Spirit we are given the strength to fulfil them, by his grace.  

In the desert, prepare the way of the Lord. May this Lent be a time of true preparation. Help me, Lord, to discard those expectations which bind me, and live and walk instead in the freedom only you give. Give me a discerning spirit to recognise what is from you, and what is not, and the strength to accept only that which is from you.