Preserves

Preserves. I’m not sure if that is a word used in the UK for jams, but ‘back home’ we sometimes call jams, preserves. It’s a nice name, redolent of having something of value that you want to save for later pleasure.

I couldn’t resist the voluptuous brambles growing at the end of the road yesterday, and within 15 minutes had 3 pounds of plump berries. I came home and immediately set to making them into jam. Preserving their taste. In order to do this, according to the recipe I found on Google, I had to cook the berries in a little water and lemon juice for an hour to break them down and make them into a soft mush. Then I added the sugar and boiled hard until the jam was ready for bottling.

There is something immensely satisfying in seeing a cupboard full of preserves. Independent of electrical power (like all those berries in the freezer). They are there for years, until they are needed.

I love the joy of sharing the bounty with others, too. Most people are delighted to receive a jar of homemade jam, free of additives.

Jesus looks at us and, (I know this is a flight of fancy), he sees plump berries. (I make no comment on the plump aspect…) All we need is him, the sugar, and the steady heat of the Holy Spirit to preserve us. Then he can give us to the world, to sweeten the sourness, to encourage and cheer, to draw others into the fold.

May you be a sweet dollop of preserves to others today!

Brambling

Just back from picking brambles. The sun is out; the sky is blue; my heart was singing to the Lord (and so was my mouth sometimes!)

As I filled my fourth punnet, I thought of the lavishness of this year’s bramble and cherry harvests. Delicious fruits, growing without any husbandry. They grow on the verges of the fields, fields which the farmer lavishes with care and chemicals, fields which yielded poor crops this year because of unusual weather conditions.

Everyone watches the fields for the harvests and bemoans the poor result. Relatively nobody is looking along the verges, which the Lord is blessing with abundance.

I thought of my own prayer life. I lavish most prayers on certain people and situations. I watch carefully for signs of growth. Meanwhile, what is the Lord doing along the neglected verges of my life? I am missing great things when I fail to see what the Lord is doing, and join in with him to bring in the harvest.

So my prayers  coming back changed as I asked him to show me the verges in my life, so that I can join in to bring in an abundant harvest, a harvest all down to the Lord of the harvest. I asked him to give us more workers in our community, to scour the verges for signs of growth and then to nurture and bring it into the Kingdom.

And if you’re out my way, bring some empty punnets. The verges are ripe unto a delicious harvest.

A heart that grows two sizes in a breath

Oh, the thoughts I have as I look out my prayer window! This morning I realised that the bushes I trimmed a few weeks back are now throwing up new shoots, and the whole body of the bush is growing up as well. The view has shrunk by about a quarter. It led me to think how easily I can let shoots of thought – many of them selfish, critical, or negative – to grow up and restrict the God-given perspective Jesus wants me to have. It’s easiest to trim out those shoots one by one as they appear, rather than wait until they strengthen into wooden branches of unhelpful thinking.

Having read books for years to my four kids and now some grandchildren, I thought of one favourite – How the Grinch Stole Christmas. While the self-centred Grinch punched the air rejoicing in his presumed success at stealing Christmas from the Whos in Whoville, he was interrupted by the sound of sweet singing where he expected to hear heartbroken wailing. He had assumed that Christmas came in gifts – all of which he had stolen, rather than understanding that it is a Gift, and that Gift is love. And ‘his heart grew two sizes that day’.

The errant branches were pruned away and the Grinch could see clearly. The vision was breath-taking, transformative and life-giving.

May I recognise the errant branches in my mind today and prune them off as soon as they tempt me to think selfishly, critically, or negatively. Scripture declares we have the mind of Christ – but only as we work with the Holy Spirit to develop it. I long for his perspective, not my own, for in him only do we have fullness of life and are we set free from thoughts which rob us of our peace, compassion and love.

The Wanderer

Sitting in my prayer window this morning, I suddenly realised there was a cow on her own in the harvested barley field. As yet unperturbed by separation from her calf and the other mums across the road, she grazed happily along the verge of the field. A few of her friends bellowed, but she ignored them.

As I got up to call the farmer, he arrived, on his own. I saw him park the tractor in a strategic place, but still. Somehow he had to entice or usher the stray out of the wrong field and through the open gate of the right field, without losing the rest of the herd. I quickly put on shoes and jacket so I could give him a hand, but by the time I was ready, the cow was back where she belonged.

Over the years, we have participated in many a round-up, doing our best to help farmers with their errant herds. We have discovered our own ineptness. It takes skill and experience to move a herd, or even a single cow.

Jesus told stories of lost sheep rather than roaming cows, but the symbolism is the same. It is comforting to know that he is that skilled, experienced, loving ‘farmer’ who can seek out the one who has wandered off, without losing any of the rest of the herd.

I am the good shepherd, he declared. Today I’m praying for those I know who have strayed. He doesn’t need my help to restore them, but he graciously responds to our prayers.

Falling Cherries

No way could I have ever picked all the cherries this year, even with the help of friends and family. And now the inevitable is happening. The ground is littered with overripe cherries, staining the driveway and pressing into soles.

That which was delicious in its time, on those warm summer days, is beginning to rot and stain.

The fields are ripe and ready for the picking, Jesus told his disciples. You can’t do it all: pray for helpers.

Our neighbours and friends don’t all know Jesus. They are missing out on so much, but we can’t reach them all. Partly because there isn’t time, and partly because they may need someone else to listen to. People don’t always respond to friends and family, though they are always watching to see if we walk the walk.

Press into the Lord of the harvest and pray for helpers. Pray for new ways to do church. Pray for new ways to present the ancient truth of the gospel.

Lines of communication

Forty years ago, a letter took three days to wing its way from California to north-eastern Scotland. Postage wasn’t very expensive. Transatlantic phone calls had to go through an overseas operator, who rang back when she had a clear line and it was ringing. It cost a lot. £1/minute. Those were the two options for maintaining contact with my family, so my parents wrote to me, and I wrote to them, every Sunday, and we received the up-to-the-minute news the following Wednesday.

Today, a letter takes a week or more and may never even arrive. It costs a lot. I paid over £10 to send a small packet to my mother and it never arrived. E-mail is free and instant. Skype is free to a computer, pennies to a phone. I can skype Mom most days. The biggest obstacles are the time difference and her busy social life!

I haven’t even mentioned WhatsApp, SMS, Facebook, Instagram…

Getting in touch with God hasn’t changed, though. Call out to me, he invites us. Sit with me. Rest in me. Confess to me. Come away with me. Listen.

I love you, he says, and it echoes through my heart. It’s free, and it’s instant. Praise him.

Isn't it beautiful?

A month ago, our cherry trees were literally dripping with cherries, which for some reason the pigeons ignored. Freezer full now, some jam made, many cherries didn’t get picked. I just couldn’t reach.

Now I look out and the apple trees are drooping towards the ground, so heavy is the fruit on their branches. Big, healthy-looking apples, not yet ready, but when they are, there will be apple butter, crumbles, pies, sauce.

Even the plum tree, which has never done much, has a healthy crop beginning to ripen.

And yet, the raspberries were poor quality and scarce. The strawberries were small, though sweet. There aren’t many blueberries.

I’m no horticulturist, but it’s evident that weather conditions which bless some fruits, harm others.

So it is with people. A climate of corruption can encourage some to let their integrity flower and grow fruit to feed those whose hope is waning. Or it can tempt people to participate in corruption.

We are not to live like people who have no hope, the Bible claims. When the storms of negativity, of fake news and alternative truth buffet our world, we are to look up. He who started a good work in us will not leave it incomplete. Filled with his Spirit of hope, the joy of the Lord as our strength, we are the cherry and apple trees in my garden, feeding the hungry poor.

This is the day the Lord has made. Isn’t it beautiful?

Lens of Grace

Awhile ago, we got a comic book for Flick which had a ‘camera’ attached, a camera which showed pictures of various fairy-tale princesses. It took Flick a little while to figure out how to see through the finder and view the pictures, but she mastered it. It’s not easy learning to close one eye while keeping the other open.

Paul wrote that we see ‘through a glass darkly’. We don’t get the full picture, and can be disappointed and discouraged because our perspective is narrow and our focus can be more on ourselves than on those we are feeling disappointed in.

It is hard to distance oneself from events so that the outcomes don’t seem personal, but usually there are valid reasons for other peoples’ actions or reactions. I heard a powerful talk once in which the speaker declared she decided never to allow anyone, or anything, to offend her.

It’s called grace. It’s the way God sees us, through a lens of grace. And it’s the way we should see others. Like Flick trying to see through the finder, it takes practice to allow God to broaden our vision and erase our own expectations and feelings from the picture. A lifetime of practice, and the help of the Holy Spirit.

Living in grace, though, is living life to the full. Which is what Jesus died to give us.

Lean in

Don was explaining, in more detail than I cared about, how the bench saw worked. The motor had stalled and overheated, and he was puzzling out the reason. He’d just realised that perhaps the guide had shifted slightly, so that when he pressed the long bit of wood hard against it, the saw itself was having to work extra hard to go against the grain of the wood, rather than with it. The motor may have overheated as a consequence, and stopped working.

Jesus is the guide who never shifts. We are never thrown off square when we lean in to him. We do not have to work extra hard at life. When we press hard against him, we can go through our challenging, painful times, held secure in his peace that passes understanding. That peace only comes from him. We can’t work it up. We can only lean in.

Change

Lights flashing, engines roaring, the huge green behemoth crawls through the ripe grain, its paddlewheel nose cutting and separating, storing and discarding, bringing in the harvest. The noise wails out that summer is drawing to a close, that lows and rains, gales and ice lie ahead. But today – today the sun is shining from a cloud-scattered sky and in that sun is warmth.

We always live on the cusp of change, though we don’t always notice. Day follows night and we get into a rhythm, almost oblivious to the changes all around. There are annual changes, and there are forever changes. When we were expecting our first baby, we looked forward to a time when life would get back to normal. Of course, we soon found ourselves embracing a new normal.

Today I choose to live in the joy of the moment, swollen cheek and all. I see signs of change and pray that I’ll be enabled to embrace change with grace and hope, always trusting in our loving Father.

The Dentist's Chair

Maybe dentists get a bad rap, but let’s be honest. Who enjoys sitting in their chairs?

I had some dental surgery yesterday. It took an hour and a half and has left me with six stitches, a swollen cheek and very sore. But I was there voluntarily – having an implant is better than having no tooth – and the dentist was good, hygienic, skilful. Most places in the world, you might have to just ask your neighbour to pull the offending tooth. And gum it after that.

So this is a first world moan.

Or is it a moan at all? It’s just what happens in life. Some things hurt. Yesterday, though, I was grateful of the truth of God’s promise, that when you walk through the waters/fires/troubles he’ll be with you. I was grateful that as I lay, head down, mouth wide, and the dentist hammering away, I had chunks of John 1 going through my mind. What a blessed diversion! I have some of that chapter memorised but it didn’t come out in a coherent narrative but rather in snatches. But they were life-giving snatches, and I am grateful.

He never leaves us nor forsakes us. That is life to the full. Even in the dentist’s chair.

Battery Low

Battery low. Recharge.

My laptop lets me know when it needs a boost. Plug it in and in an hour or so it’s good to go again.

My body lets me know when it’s time for bed. I yawn. I fall asleep watching the news. I go to bed and on a good night, waken refreshed a few hours later.

My spirit lets me know when it’s time to linger with the Lord. Anxiety replaces peace. Irritability shoves patience out of the way. Critical thoughts drive out grace. If I’m smart, I head for the prayer window. I’d like to say I always do that. But sometimes I run on empty, full of fear, irritability and judgmental opinions.

This is the day the Lord has made. His love is faithful and steadfast and his grace is all I need. He is waiting for me. He is waiting for you. His unconditional love never runs dry, and is sufficient. With the help of his Holy Spirit, I believe that and linger in his presence.

Times of refreshing are a gift of God.

Time Out

My lifestyle is hectic. It’s just the way I am. So when I take a sabbath afternoon’s rest, reading the Saturday papers, followed by a ‘fix’ of Poirot on the telly while eating leftovers, why should I feel guilty and unproductive?

God knows we need time out. For those parenting in this generation, ‘time out’ is a punishment a child is sent to for misbehaving. For God, ‘time out’ is a blessing, an opportunity to draw breath, take stock, relax and be refreshed.

I don’t mind being sent to Time Out. Think I’ll read some more of the papers now.

Sunrise, Sunset

The sunset last night. Only God could have painted such a thing of beauty. I rushed for my phone and ‘captured’ it, three times. None of the pictures begins to do it justice.

I remember seeing the Grand Canyon a few years ago, after a lifetime of seeing pictures of it. None of them did it justice. It took my breath away, literally, and was almost a transcendental experience itself.

Some things of beauty can’t be captured, explained or passed on. They have to be experienced.  I can share my experience of being born again into God’s kingdom, and the most I can hope for is that the listener will be so excited about my experience that she will rush off and start asking God to reveal himself to her, too. She will never be impacted by his presence until she opens herself to be impacted by his presence.

May your day be shot through with beautiful ‘sunsets’ which can’t be explained, only experienced, and may you take time to drink those moments of beauty deep into your soul.

New Directions

For some reason, the Lord took me back to a memory of hemming squares on a sewing machine. When did I last do that? Can’t even remember. But as I lingered, I saw the dexterity required to anchor a sharp corner…the need to position the needle through all thicknesses as I swung the fabric into a new direction.

God sometimes calls us to change direction. The only way to successfully negotiate such a change, is to ensure that the needle … the anchor … our connection with God through Jesus and the Holy Spirit … is firmly in place. Then, once our face is turned in the new direction, we are free to run with him, sometimes at pretty high speeds. Allowing the needle to release any of the fabrics of our lives results in a messy ‘corner’ and perhaps a wonky way forward.

Isaiah quotes God saying, ‘Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”’ He’s always there, guiding us on, if we keep our ears open and our lives embedded in him.

I wonder if he’s preparing me for something? What about you?

Rotting Fruit

Cherry harvest is coming to an end. Not because the trees have been picked clean. I can’t get up high enough, nor do I have the energy to keep going much longer!! Friends came last night and picked a couple of boxes, and the red ones are beginning to spoil, though the black remain firm.

So what happens now? I imagine the ground will be carpeted by rotting fruit, which might call rodents and other undesirables. I may still have work to do out there, sweeping and putting into the compost heap, or we may find our cherry trees have the pulling power of the Pied Piper of Hamlin.

What is a blessing and sweet to the taste can go bad. What nourishes and delights can turn sour and sickly. God pours out his blessings and gifts on us, which he wants us to use for the good of the Kingdom. The important thing in life is that old saying, carpe diem, because what is wonderful today may be horrible tomorrow.

It’s not always easy to choose how to spend time, which gifts to use when. I had planned to do some writing today, but the forecast is that this good weather is drawing to a close, so I better take my own advice, and get out there and carpe diem. I can write in the rain, but I don’t want to deal with rotting cherries in it.

God is good, all the time

The profusion of summer foliage on the trees along the drive obliterates the view of Scolty. Maybe in winter, I’ll prune those lower branches on the Norwegian maple (or is it an elm?) tree so that next summer I can still see for miles, or maybe I won’t, because they do look lovely right now.

When autumn comes and the leaves change colour and then drop, the view will be restored.

When life is full, perspective can be lost. I can be so satisfied admiring the beauty of people I love, work I’m enjoying, a church where I can worship in freedom, that I don’t even miss what I am missing. It’s when things are stripped away, when good things are lost and I stumble into a challenging valley, that my perspective is broadened. As I seek the solace of our loving Father, I begin to see his trademark love in unexpected places.

Busy, productive life full of joyful reunions and happy memory-making is wonderful, but there are hidden jewels revealed only when the leaves of plenty drop. God is so good. All the time.