Cherish

Off to Cherish women’s conference in Leeds tomorrow early. When preparing to go away, I find it hard to get the balance between looking at what needs doing right now, with thinking ahead to what I need to do/take to Leeds. I’m dashing between the garden and bank forms and correspondence, baking bread for Don (in the bread-maker!) and thinking of what I’ll need at Cherish.

I like variety in my life. Nothing worse than rigid routine. But too much variety can make me feel like I’m fraying at the edges. Like I’m bound to forget something critical.

Commit your way to the Lord. He guides my steps, and nothing critical will be forgotten. Maybe some frivolous trivia will be left undone, left behind, but I trust him to remind me of the important things.

It’s maintaining the right perspective, isn’t it? In this case, it’s the happy anticipation of a few days away, worshipping God in the company of thousands of women, hearing inspiring messages and eating out!

Hidden Beauties

Into the busyness of family visiting, Don brought me a bunch of gloriously bright flowers. He found a vase and popped them in. I’ve admired them as I’ve passed but life has been busy.

This morning I noticed there were gems hidden behind other, bigger blooms. The flowers are so tightly packed that some real beauties are going unnoticed.

One task this morning will be to get a second vase and split the bunch so that each flower is given space to reveal its beauty.

It’s so important to give others space, space to be seen for the beautiful attributes each of us has by the grace of God. A reticent child can live in the shadow of an exuberant sibling, talents unnoticed and unsung. A self-effacing church member can be overlooked, the church the poorer for missing out on unused gifts.

I only noticed what I was missing when I just sat down and looked at the bouquet. Today I will take more time to breathe, to reflect quietly, and to pray. I don’t want to overlook any hidden treasures.

Open Door

Housekeeping is not my strength, and with the busyness of my days at the moment, I have really dropped the ball. Even I have a limit to the untidiness I can tolerate, though, so here I was last night, cleaning house at 9.15. I heard the car pull up and stop. I was expecting Don back from a meeting. I was not expecting him to bring some Syrian friends with him.

I greeted them at the door, duster in hand, face flushed with embarrassment that they should encounter such a mess. They were gracious, happy to be here. I found a packet of nice biscuits but it was the end of a Ramadan day for them, and I was mortified that I couldn’t really think of anything more substantial to offer them, like a big cheese scone or something with their tea!

We enjoyed our conversation. We shared our lives, our experiences. Our cup of tea.

Sometimes we stress that we need to have everything in order, everything perfect, before we open our doors and invite the stranger in. Jesus surprised me last night by bringing the sisters to my door in the middle of my disarray. An untidy room doesn’t matter. An inhospitable heart does.

Little Busy Fingers

A pair of red mittens, left behind by a wee two-year-old who face-planted a puddle on Saturday. Small. But big, by comparison with the little mitts warming the hands of my two-month-old granddaughter in Glasgow, and the one-month-old twins in Dundee. Wool fashioned to warm the beautiful, precious fingers and hands curled inside.

My Native American name as a Camp Fire Girl growing up in California meant Little Busy Fingers. My mother helped me fashion that name from a book of native American words; she knew me well. My fingers, rather bigger now, rather more wrinkled and with joints occasionally stiff, are still busy. Sometimes creatively, sometimes musically, sometimes just doing the work.

I give thanks to God for my hands and fingers, which enable creative expression, which facilitate service, which bring pleasure. God’s creative voice spoke things into being. May his creative voice find expression today through my fingers, through my hands, through everything I am, everything I do. May he bless others through my hands, and through yours.

Worship and waffles

What do waffles and worship have in common, besides the alliteration? No obvious synergy there, but just back from my first taste of the combination and I can confirm that it is a winner.

Taste and see that the Lord is good. I have tasted. The worship was sensitive and profound, deep and meaningful. Within the worship set, we were invited forward to share bread and wine at the Lord’s table. Afterwards, we queued to share waffles and coffee, laughter and news.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. Waffles and worship. Who’d have thought?

Wake up and Smell the Coffee

Wake up and smell the coffee.

Thank goodness it’s no longer just Nescafe here in Scotland. I like my coffee strong and black, but there are certainly a lot of other options available today to satisfy every taste. Does it wake me up in the morning? Not sure, but it sure can keep me awake at night!

On a glorious day like today, I’m very aware of the sounds of spring: I heard my first Cuckoo this morning, and a hungry blackbird serenaded me as I dug over a patch of garden. I also notice the fragrance of spring. The coconutty scent of gorse and broom; the freshly cut lawn smell; the variety of pleasant fragrances from spring flowers.

When I manage to be very attentive, I sometimes catch a whiff of the fragrance of Jesus. In the midst of an unhappy situation, there may be a sudden gesture of kindness which is sourced in the divine. 

Usually, though, I’m not so attentive, but then I can be blindsided by the aroma of Jesus, transforming the atmosphere. I caught a sniff of Jesus this morning during a conversation with someone who has no faith in him. But the love and compassion for another revealed that the Lord has faith in him.

Love. As the song declares, it’s all around us, perceptible through all of our senses.

So wake up and smell the Lord. And smile.

Shelter

Temperatures could dip below zero tonight, a danger to the tender blossom opening on trees, a danger to dahlias and other flowers expecting a warmer welcome in May. Mary recommends placing a plant pot over the seedlings to protect them – I just did it so I don’t forget as the day gets busy.

Circumstances in life sometimes take a sudden dip. Everything seems to be going fine, and then there is a problem, a challenge, a disappointment or a heartbreak. ‘You are my hiding place’ I whisper to Jesus when I face a situation for which I feel ill-equipped. He is my plant pot. He is enough.