Sticky Valve

 

The electrician arrived right at 8 am. He was here to fix the pump connected to the boiler, which presents an occasional fault: it sometimes doesn’t turn off when the timer turns the boiler off. There were three possible valves which might be the sticky culprit.

Stuart had the right tools and the knowledge and within minutes he had isolated the valve needing replaced. By 9 he was gone, job done. No more sticky valves.

That broken pump sometimes had continued to work despite having no connection to the hot water from the boiler. It laboured away pumping increasingly tepid water round the system, receiving no new hot water from the cooling boiler. I guess eventually it might have burnt itself out.

An intermittent fault is often hard to detect.

As a Christian, I need to remain sensitive and open to the ‘hot water’ of the Spirit, so that I circulate truth and not re-hashed ideas of my own. However challenging I may find God’s truth, I need to remain connected to share it faithfully.

I also need to be alert and discerning to detect when others’ – especially leaders’, connections to God seem to have stuck and are no longer open to the living word of God. Or are open only sporadically, sometimes sharing truth, sometimes asserting things which are not from God.

Lord, give me a discerning heart, mind and spirit, that I may recognise when others have got stuck and lost their close connection with you. And keep me from getting stuck myself. May I be alert and aware of your guidance every day, Lord, and quick to follow.

Darkness and Light

 

In my mind’s eye I looked, and saw a sky of unremitting darkness which was suddenly torn apart by a shaft of light breaking through.

I read Psalm 46 in The Passion Translation. ‘Come and see the breathtaking wonders of our God…He’s the one who makes conflicts end throughout the earth, breaking and burning every weapon of war. Surrender your anxiety. Be still and realise that I am God. I am God above all the nations.’

Amen.

Whatever the news, with eyes trained on God and a will bent to remaining focused on him despite the distracting conversations of others, I surrender my anxiety to you today, Lord. What a blessing to be able to praise Him in the middle of every storm.

Louder and louder, my praises rise to Him today. He is Lord. He is exalted above all.

I am so grateful. The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. He is the one who makes conflicts end. He will break every weapon of war.

The raging roar of stormy winds and crashing waves cannot erode our faith in God.

That is the truth. However things seem, that is the truth. He has the last word. He is the last Word. Alpha and Omega. We are in safe hands.

Emergency Kits

 

The UK government is advising that each household have an emergency kit prepared in case of any major disruption, whether natural or man-made. Their advice has occasioned a flurry of buying, and I admit I have purchased a wind-up radio with all sorts of add-ons like torch, recharging points, and so on.

I think it is important to be responsible and prepared, but there is need to have balance. As a follower of Jesus, I am asking constantly for a gift of discernment so that I have the right reaction to secular events and advice.

And as a follower of Jesus, I think the main thing is to keep my focus on Him, to fill my thoughts with who he is and not let them be undermined by dire news headlines ranging from environmental disaster to AI mastery to foreign invasion.

He is the Lord and He reigns on high. This is His world in a created universe which he has called into existence. Psalm 37: The Lord directs the steps of the godly, He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand.

There it is, another promise that He is holding us by the hand. As I turn my eyes on Jesus, any fears subside, any doubts resolve, and faith and trust in the one who died for me rises.

Cave or Tunnel?

 

When problems present themselves, it can feel like one is looking into a dark cave with no way out.

Today I put my trust in God, who wants to help me to see that the ‘cave’ is really a tunnel, from which there is an exit into the light.

Focusing on him helps us to navigate whatever tunnels lie before us. Step by step, guided by his voice – ‘this is the way, walk in it’ – and his hand – ‘I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you Do not fear; I will help you’.

Jesus is Lord. The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. Hallelujah!

Jesus in the Driving Seat

 

This morning, asking for discernment, I received a prayer picture. Jesus was in the front seat of a car, driving, wearing a very distinctive-looking metal helmet (of salvation, I think). We, his children, were in the back seat. Peace reigned in the car. Nobody fought to ride shotgun with Jesus. We were content in the back seat, where our view was limited to what we could see out of the windows on our side of the car.   I noticed how intently Jesus was focusing on what lay ahead. We trusted him to make the right decisions to get us out of the storm and into a safe space.

However things look in the global or personal worlds we are in, Jesus is in the driving seat. The safest thing we can do is trust him to drive us home.

May God give us all the faith to trust Him.

The light shines in the world, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Grace and peace to us all.

Out of Breath

 

A snippet caught on Radio 4 this morning as I did my back exercises: promoting the upcoming David Attenborough Blue Planet 2 series, the narrator described a young octopus who strayed too far on dry land. Running short of oxygen, she crawled painfully back across the rocks towards the sea she craved. It sounded as though she might not make it when suddenly a wave broke high and fulsome over her head, sweeping her out into the water she needed.

Sometimes I can feel like I’ve strayed too far in a direction which drains me of my spiritual oxygen. Perhaps I listen too attentively to others’ gossip and then feel tempted to pass it on. Perhaps I focus too much on my own insecurities in handling my mother’s estate, and forget that Christ is in me, and I am in him.

I am so grateful that he never leaves me out there suffocating. As his Spirit sweeps over me today, I breathe deep in the refreshing, reviving breath of God filling my spiritual lungs with love, life and faith.

Eureka!

 

While I was in Eureka, California, with Mhairi recently, we had the awesome privilege of sharing a meal with Betty Kwan Chinn, whose life story, When the Gray Bird Sings, is written by Dr Karen Price (and read on audio book by Mhairi). Betty, whose early life was one of unimaginable horror and suffering during the Cultural Revolution in China, escaped, was rescued, and she has lived and continues to live a life laid down for others as she seeks out those who are homeless and lost in addictions and offers shelter, life and hope for them. She is an extraordinary woman, full of humility and grace, still, in her late sixties, working 7 days a week, often deep into the night out on the sand dunes alone looking for the lost.

As a 7-year-old, Betty spent a few years chained to a garbage heap at the edge of her town, where she survived on excrement and whatever she could reach within the length of her tether.

In my prayer window this morning, I was looking at the wooden cross Mhairi gave me last Christmas. Rather than being the shape of a cross, it is a rectangle of smooth wood in which a thin but strong cross has been cut. The road is narrow to eternal life, and it is through the cross of Jesus that we enter.

Last weekend, I met a university friend in Amsterdam for a couple of days. My back was sore; her shoulder hurt: we still managed to laugh a lot. After she boarded her river cruise, I had a few hours on my own in the city before catching a flight back to Aberdeen. I had brought a backpack only as carry-on, thinking that would be easier for walking the cobbled streets of Amsterdam.

I thought there wasn’t much in my backpack, but it seemed surprisingly heavy, especially with a sore back, and led to my sitting long in a café.

I thought I’d only brought the essentials, but I know I could have left things behind and been less weighed down. I could have enjoyed Amsterdam more had I had less in my backpack.

The unseen backpack I carry through life is stuffed full of all sorts of things which could prevent me from getting through that narrow pass outlined by the Cross. Fears. Doubts. Memories which can weigh heavily.

I think of what must be in Betty’s backpack, which she must be laying down, throwing down even, daily. I pray for all who carry real rocks of suffering in their backpacks: Lord, help them to jettison them and instead be set free to be filled with the light and life of your love.

Lord, help me this morning to swing that pack off of my shoulders and abandon it once more at the foot of your cross, so that I can enter your gates with thanksgiving in my heart, your courts with praise.