On Wings

 

I strode along the Platties, trying to get a good walk between engagements today. A duck and a drake - beautiful in his midnight blue and deep green feathers - swam out from the shoreline below the concrete path that runs along the Dee in Banchory. They seemed intent on crossing the river, which was flowing fast towards the sea. They tried to stay together, first one and then the other striking out cross-current but then being swept further downstream.

My mind wasn’t fully engaged, but I saw their struggle and wondered how they would return to the nest they may be building. Would they just be swept all the way to the river’s mouth in Aberdeen harbour?

The next moment, they both lifted out of the water and flew to the other side.

Of course. They had a built-in escape mechanism: flight. They would get back to their nest when they wanted.

Life is turbulent and the current is strong. Home and family relationships, environmental concerns, injustices, global wars and strife. We are in the river. We are all in the river of life, and the current is turbulent and strong. We live in the world – the river, and these currents affect us all.

But take heart, Jesus cries. ‘I have overcome the world!’ He has triumphed over death and given us his Holy Spirit to strengthen and guide us, to lift us above the world’s frenetic and dangerous currents and afford us His perspective on things.

We have the wings of the Spirit to help us rise above, to take us into His presence, experience His peace, and rest in His love. Then, refreshed, we are better able to navigate the turbulent waters of life.

So grateful.

Out of the wilderness of winter

 

The wilderness of winter is segueing to the voluptuous excesses of spring, and it can’t do it fast enough for me! The bulbs are up, some are out but most continue to grow and form in response to the warming welcome of sunlight.

The field stretching out beyond the bird feeders has been ploughed and lies exposed, awaiting whatever seed the farmer will plant. Birds scavenge among the clods of dirt for bugs and worms, eager for change from a winter diet (I imagine!).

To be honest, the winter’s hibernation offers me a break from the sense of drivenness which comes as an untidy garden begins to awaken and display its need for the hand of a gardener. I struggle each year to know how much to do in a big garden largely untamed, and how much to release to nature. As my efforts at husbandry often go unrewarded (my leeks are still in the ground, about the size of spring onions…), I wonder why I bother, but something in me drives me on, hoping this will be the year…

Oh Lord, help me to keep time with you today. Help me to walk to the beat of your drum, to allocate my time well and to keep my priorities clear. May I never unseat you as King of my heart, the one who knows what is best for me and who calls me to Spirit-filled acts of service, and to divine times of rest and refreshment.

This is the day that the Lord has made. Let me rejoice and be glad in it!

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.