The sun is warm and smiling in a mottled sky, while grey and
white clouds stream past it carried along on the high winds. In like a lion (March 1st) and out like a lion (March 31st) it seems this year. Not a lamb in sight.
High in the sky but also down here on earth, the winds are
fierce and icy. Too wild to take the fireside ash out to deposit in the bin – I
would have been covered in grey grit myself. Too unpredictable to venture out
in.
Or am I missing something by hunkering down inside? Is there
exhilaration and drama to be found out there in the wild winds? Perhaps, though
in my imagination the only drama is in dodging a flying tree branch!
Some churches, some Christians, avoid exposing themselves to
the unpredictable and wild winds of the Holy Spirit. They shut their hearts and
their doors, metaphorically speaking, to his presence and prefer the safe
version they choose to believe. A Holy Spirit who comforts and teaches, who
inspires and guides. Which is true but isn’t all he does.
The Spirit blows where he wills, Scripture says. Nobody
knows why, or where he came from, or where he is going. But the disciples on
that first Pentecost couldn’t exclude him from the upper room, and when he blew
in he blew out any resistance and fear and filled them with faith and power.
I may choose to stay inside today while the wild wind whips
round the building, but I am open and willing for the Holy Spirit to blow wild
and untamed in my life, inspiring my thoughts and energising my faith and
giving me power to live life to the full and see Jesus’ kingdom come and his
will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.
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