Recalculating ... Again

 

Ah, the joys of the open road! I remember that was Mr Toad’s refrain when he first saw a motor car and began to dream of driving abroad.

We had been on a road trip for a few days, and were heading home, led by the lady of the satnav. I was at the helm, Don in the navigator’s seat as we neared Birmingham (I think…). We decided to opt out of the toll road, with its unknown fare structure, and stay on the free ways instead.

Easier said than done. We approached a round-about. ‘Take the fifth exit’, she who must be obeyed intoned confidently. There were five lanes filled with lorries and cars of all sizes. Everyone else seemed to know which exit they needed.

Some of the earlier exits seemed like they might be the one we wanted. We hesitated and went around again. There were a few horns honking. A truck looming too large in my rear-view mirror.

The fifth exit said M6 Toll. No, we didn’t want the toll. We went around again.

Going around again entailed our lady taking us off a different exit, up to the next round-about, where we circled and tried once more in this spider’s web of a round-about.

A few words passed between us. Not angry, but confused. I don’t know which way to go, we both agreed. Signs gave their destinations as town-names which we didn’t recognise.

‘I think that might be in Yorkshire,’ I ventured, not at all sure. Turns out, no. Lichfield.

‘God, please help,’ I murmured, and no doubt Don concurred in that prayer.

I, who can navigate the freeways of Los Angeles, felt beaten as we re-entered that round-about for the umpteenth time. I don’t think I can keep going, I moaned.

I took a road.

The signs changed. Yes! We were on an A-grade road across country, heading towards the M6. No tolls. Slow, rather tedious with plenty more round-abouts, but just one lane each way. More my speed.

How did we do it? Hmm.

So many times in life, I confidently swing into a round-about, thinking I know where I am going, only to be flummoxed by the options. This way or that way? Which is right?

The voice I long to hear may not come, but as I pray and ask for wisdom, for guidance, I need to trust and make a decision. Knowing that Jesus is with me all the way, and even if I do make a less-than-optimal choice, he will still be riding shot-gun. He won’t abandon me.

He will recalculate. Gently. He will not be frustrated (I hope); his patience is legendary.

So, having found our way back to the ‘hillock somehow, we are revelling in the peace and quiet. No trucks looming in the rear-view mirror. No horns blaring from exasperated drivers who know where they are going and are desperate to round this confused old couple.

How faithful is our God. His mercies never fail. They are new every morning. Great is his faithfulness.

We had a lovely time. But it is always good to get home.

And now ...

 

And now…

This is the day the Lord has made. I want to open myself up to hear his voice through the glorious birdsong in the garden, in the people I meet today, in the conversations I enter into. I want to commit to obedience in faith, trusting him with all my hopes and dreams. I want to step out and live in the joy of the Lord Jesus, which is my strength today and always.

I’ve watered the pot plants and watered my spirit, drenching myself in his presence and now I trust that I won’t wilt as heat rises.

Have a great day.

On the breeze...

 

The breeze caresses my upturned face, gentle and warm. The sensation takes me back to childhood, a certain place in the strip mall near our home: the welcome breeze that seemed always to blow at that point.

A walk on this perfect evening. A long summer evening, where the sun is not due to set until after 10 pm. Warm enough for t-shirt and cut-offs. 81 degrees.

The gloaming. Perfect.

I pick up the usual drinks cups and cans which often seem to litter that particular stretch of country road. I talk to the cows who thunder across the field to stare curiously at me, their big wet noses sniffing the air, I guess picking up my scent. Beautiful faces, gentle, soft ears tuned to the sounds of this rural idyll.

Returning home, I round the corner onto the drive and instinctively look down towards the house. Indy used to wait for us there, and her absence is still sharp and painful.

Just grateful tonight, grateful for the peace and security of this bit of the world. Grateful for the incredible people in my family and friendship groups, people who live out their faith through gentle joy, persevering hope, and unshakeable love.

Grateful to the Creator God who made this beautiful world, who died for us all, and who is coming back to sort it out. Thank you, Jesus, for your faithful promises to which I cling.

Step out?

 

Years ago now, we were visiting my parents in California. It was Robbie’s birthday, and they wanted to buy him a tennis racket. We visited every sporting goods store in the area, including one the size of a big barn where they had an entire wall full of rackets. The choice was overwhelming. Dear Robbie could not make up his mind. In the end, he accepted their gift of money and bought one when we came back to Scotland, where the choice was more limited.

Don and I are wrestling with a choice. It is not an overwhelming choice in terms of lots of different ways we could go. It is just one choice. Do we say yes, step out and commit to something which carries inherent risks, or do we postpone until another time when the risks may have diminished? I’m very aware that we are not getting any younger, and such an opportunity might not present itself again.

I don’t think I ever saw the whole movie, (whose name I don’t remember), but my kids used to enjoy a John Cleese film where a knight was in search of the Holy Grail, and in order to finally reach the cave where it was rumoured to be, he had to step out into seeming nothingness over a deep chasm, trusting that as he stepped, a bridge would materialise and rise up to meet him, and he would cross safely.

That image comes back to me from time to time. When I want to ‘follow the yellow brick road’, a clearly marked path leading to a place of blessing, I instead find myself at the edge of a chasm, challenged to take that first step.

May God bless us all as we navigate the nuances of our lives. May he guide us in our decision-making.

 

Walk in Love

 

‘Marilyn, it’s your daughter, Michele,’ I heard Sophie say as she held the phone to Mom’s ear.

‘Michele, how is everybody?’ she asked, in the old, accustomed way. Her voice was rough, but strong. For a moment, she was back. She sounded like Mom.

We spoke of how much we missed each other and wished we could see each other; then, as she summed up her understanding of our situation, she called me ‘Mama’.

I never knew my Grandmother. I wonder if my voice carries any of the same timbre as hers did, or if it is just the familiarity of a voice once known and heard so often. A voice of love. I don’t know, but it’s nice to think maybe I carry something of my Grandma in my own life.

Mom, (like the rest of us, really), is on the threshold of eternity at nearly 102. When she steps through that door, she will step into pure love, where perhaps linear relationships are no more. Whether she is mama or daughter won’t matter because the love will be the connection.

Love is the key to everything. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only, much-loved Son so that all who believe in Him will have eternal life. What a promise. What a hope.

In this darkening world where the powers that be operate from a position of fear and hate, I choose today to live in love and faith.

The political outcome in Manchester overnight is being hailed as a beacon of hope; how much more is the real, everlasting hope Jesus offers.

 

Together

 

‘Got it!’ he voiced triumphantly. He reached down onto the tarmac drive and picked up a tiny spring.

Don was trying to put air in a car’s tire, but the great inflater he has had lost a tiny but crucial bit and it wouldn’t work. It needed that spring. Our Ukrainian friend with great eyesight found what we would never have seen. The tire was refreshed with the right amount of air.

Life is full of decisions and complications. If this, then that; if not this, then what? We can go round and round, increasingly agitated and less able to spot the tiny ‘spring’ that will make it all work.

We need each other. I love the way our minister Tony introduces the Lord’s Prayer, pointing out the number of times ‘we’ and ‘us’ are said. Jesus intends us to live corporately, as family, sharing the highs and the lows and offering perspectives.

Seeing the spring that someone else can’t see.

In church in Glasgow last Sunday, I heard a great sermon on the gifts of the Holy Spirit. How they are meant to be used together by the body of Christ in order to build up the church (the Jesus-followers). One has the gift of wisdom; one has the gift of knowledge or discernment or prophecy and so on, all for the purpose of building up church.

Someone close to me is facing a lot of decisions. I have one or two as well. We just came off the phone with each other, having heard that sermon together on Sunday, so we encouraged one another to ask for wisdom and move forward in faith and confidence that, as James says, God will give wisdom to those who ask for it.

We don’t need a tire inflater, but we do need the breath of the Holy Spirit to inflate and enable us to move in the power of God, think with the mind of Christ, and rest in the peace and comfort that come from the Holy Spirit.

Have a great day, looking out for the others in your life.

Weeds and Winds and Seeds

 

The ground elder and nettles are in flower. In my prayer window, I watched them be blown and buffeted in blasts of wind.

The seeds, I thought. I don’t like the wind but of course, the seeds need the wind to spread and propagate more of their kind.

I think of some of the many inspirational believers I’ve been privileged to know in my lifetime. Followers of Jesus who persevered – or are persevering – in their faith despite the gales whipping around them. How far, how wide, the seed of faith is spread when believers hang on to Jesus during the blasts of the enemy! How beautiful and fragrant the blossoms of such flowering faith in Jesus Christ our Saviour and Lord!

I am grateful, so thankful for those I know who, in hard times, train their gaze on Jesus as the winds of life whine and shriek and roar.  May you, o Lord, continue to strengthen and support all those whose lives are hammered by the storms of life today. May I emulate them in whatever I may face today, clinging on not just with grim determination but with the joy of the Lord inspiring me.

I am drawn to Isaiah 63 v 1: Who is this who comes from Edom, from the city of Bozrah, with his clothing stained red? Who is this in royal robes, marching in his great strength? ‘It is I, the Lord, announcing your salvation! It is I, the Lord, who has the power to save!’

I pray that those who feel themselves faltering in the storm will be encouraged and strengthened knowing that the Lord has the power to save, and is coming in great strength.

My thoughts return to the elder and the nettles. Weeds. Pernicious weeds with tough, pervasive roots.

Yes, the seeds of the enemy are also blowing in our world today. May the Lord help me to uproot them from my own heart, mind and spirit. May I be quick to identify any new seedlings of doubt or fear and wheak them out before they can grow and propagate worldly thoughts or deeds any further. May I have the courage to tackle the weeds of hatred and injustice wherever I see them. Amen.