Snow showers

 

Scotland.

Two days ago I was gardening in shirtsleeves, enjoying seeing new blossom forming, the rhubarb beginning to bulge up from the earth, and tidying the winter storms’ detritus from the lawn.

Today, a white curtain of snowflakes blots out a clear sighting down the road, and I’m just hoping that blossom on the pear tree isn’t frozen down to its little socks. And now, as I write, the sun is peeking through the mottled whiteness.

It’s the last day of March, and as I recall, March came in like a lamb, so I guess I should have expected the lion to show up today. If one puts any store by old adages …

The only old adages I count on are those I read in the Bible. I know them to be true because I experience them in my life, regularly. Jesus never leaves me. When I walk through the valleys, he’s with me. When I sing on the mountaintops, he’s there singing harmony.

Last night I gathered with a few others to watch a short video of Helen Berhane, an Eritrean singer who couldn’t stop herself singing new songs telling the gospel story, and it so offended the government that they threw her into a container in the desert, hot in the day, freezing at night, no sanitation or light, and crowded with other prisoners. She didn’t stop singing her new songs. She couldn’t stop telling others about Jesus.

After over three years of torture and beatings, she was finally freed to die. But God had other plans for her, and today she lives in Denmark, still singing God’s praises. A true hero of the faith.

Sunshine or snow-shower, the Lord has drawn my boundaries in pleasant places. And may I never forget those who witness to the truth despite hardship and persecution.

May I sing God’s praises today, through whatever circumstances come my way.

Sooty

 

If I were to stick my head into the fireplace (before I lit the fire!!!), and huff and puff and blow hard up the chimney, I would likely be covered in a blanket of soot. In my eyes and nose and hair and face. But unless that chimney gets cleaned occasionally, it will block with the carbon and soot and eventually fill the room with deadly, overpowering fumes.

I’ve been thinking about the prodigal son story Jesus told. Starving, the rebellious young man headed home, preparing his speech of contrition as he walked. His watchful Father saw him coming, dropped everything and ran to greet and forgive, ready to party and celebrate.

The son was, in effect, blowing as hard as he could up that clogged chimney, trying to get rid of the poisons and sin that clogged his connection with his dad. But by himself, all he could achieve would be a covering of dirt that clung to him.

His dad’s effusive welcome blew the filth from the son. The wind of the Spirit cleansed him before he was wrapped in a new, clean robe.

No matter how hard we might try to clean ourselves up before approaching God, sin sticks. Only God can clean us up fully. Only he can reach the parts that we can’t, in order to bring us out of the dirt and into the purity of his Kingdom.

Cleanse the thoughts of my heart by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, Father, that I might perfectly love you and worthily magnify your holy name, Lord Jesus, in every conversation and action today.

 

Shadows

 

I’m trying to enhance our veggie-growing potential. Don helped clear the greenhouse of furniture so I could get in, put a couple of grow-bags on the ground and when the time is right, I’ll put in some more tender plants.

The greenhouse is not ideal. It is shaded by a lilac tree, too high for me to trim. Some of the glass panes are broken due to strong winds, so several years ago Don put corrugated plastic on the outside of the glass. Last year, I failed to notice the ivy creeping up the back wall, insinuating itself between glass and corrugated plastic roof. The effect is to shade the greenhouse even more.

So I spent time cutting back the ivy, but of course, the fingers stretching into the roof area are brittle and dry, and as gentle as I was, I failed to pull it all out. I guess it will remain there until it decays into dust, unhelpfully shading whatever I try to grow.

Bad attitudes, twisted thought patterns, negative ideas and doubts can insinuate themselves into my mind and affect my words and actions. It is very easy not to notice, until the Holy Spirit (or a helpful friend) points out that these patterns are shading my spirit and stunting my growth, reducing my fruitfulness. Trying to remove the offending ideas by myself can result in partial success, but leave behind detritus which continues to hamper my growth.

The only solution is to bring it to God, and ask Him to renew my mind and thinking. Without God I can do nothing. The writer to the Romans encouraged them to be transformed by the renewing of their minds.

Lord, renew my mind today, I pray. Where tendrils of criticism and fingers of doubt have wheedled their way into my thoughts, completely eradicate them, I pray, and open me up to the warmth of the Son.

Lost

 

I have a well-worn blue knit M&S hat. Not, I hasten to add, as well-worn as Don’s green knit hat, which he’s had since before we were married nearly 47 years ago…

It’s the only cosy chapeau I have. I wore it on my Friday walk with Mary, but later in the morning, I realised I couldn’t find it. I searched in all the possible places. The sleeve of my coat, the car boot, the floor, shopping bags, the shelf where it should have been. Nada.

I went off to walk with Mary this morning, bare-headed in the cold. On our way back up the road, retracing our steps, I glanced down at the verge and lo and behold, there rested my well-loved hat, a little grassy but none the worse for its adventure.

Clothes discarded by the side of the road. Refugees running from violent attack, losing possessions as they go, unable to retrace steps to find them. Like everyone else, I can hardly take in the tragedy of Ukraine, the senseless trauma and destruction and death because of the hubris of one man.

I heard of a video of Ukrainians sheltering in an underground station, praying Psalm 31 together. Don and I prayed it together this morning, in tears: In you, O Lord, I have taken refuge … Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.

What is a lost hat next to all the lost lives? Deliver this land, Lord; come quickly to their rescue. Be their rock and refuge, a strong fortress to save. Almighty, powerful God of Love: rescue this nation.

Nesting sites

 

I watch the birds check out our multi-story birdhouse, built years ago by Doug and Don. The roof has come off, as have one or two perches. The paint is peeling.

It’s cosy, they probably agree – if we don’t choose the upper room under the leaky roof. The climbing rose provides enough perch. The birdfeeders are in close proximity. All right, it’s a bit run down, but it’ll do nicely.

I watch them pop in and out of the various nesting sites. I wonder what they are looking for. What will persuade them to nest here and not there.

There is something so healing in watching nature, in observing the progression of seasonal change. I am not in charge. I am a spectator, and I know it.

Look at the birds, Jesus advised. They don’t sow or reap or store away in barns, yet the Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more to Him than they are? Can any of you, by worrying, add a single hour to your life?

I am not in charge.

Worry is a red flag to me, alerting me that my trust in God’s ability to handle situations is shaky.

Today, Lord, may I look at the birds, and remember the depth of your love: that you were willing to hang on a cross and die for me. May my roots of faith sink deeper into your love, Lord Jesus.

Caterpillars or Butterflies?

 Just had an online article published by BRF:

https://www.brf.org.uk/blog/hope-and-justice-in-a-broken-world-part-two/

Written originally as a possible talk, I had to revise it to acknowledge the global situation we are in now. The focus is on how to reimagine church post-covid. 

Fully Connected

 

I’d asked for help connecting my laptop for the CSW Wilderness series we are starting on Tuesday night. There is a 5-minute video as part of the evening, and I wanted to be sure I could run it.

My friend tried to get the projector to find the signal. Nothing, no matter which adjustments he made. Never mind, I assured him. Let’s try the tv screen. Once more, though, the connection was incomplete. I leaned forward and pushed the plug in more fully. Presto! Connected!

Now I don’t know much about the workings of computers, but I have run into this little glitch a few times: the plug is not fully ‘home’, so the connection fails.

Many times, I slip into the prayer window, but I am not fully ‘home’ with God. My mind strays onto the to-do list, or an anxiety rears its ugly head. I don’t hear what God is saying, because I am not fully plugged in.

In the current situation in Ukraine, with climate change and climate justice issues, and with Covid cases once more rising, I need to be fully plugged into God 24/7, not just in the prayer window. On this Sabbath day in Lent, I ask God to help me to engage fully with him, so that my actions and words present the picture which God wants me to reflect to the world.

 

Uploading the Life

 

Mom’s accountant sent me a link to somewhere to upload her tax documents. I followed the directions, and the stuff appeared in the document, but then I didn’t know what to do to get it to the accountant. I emailed him and a reply flew back: ‘got them’.

Jesus calls us to bear witness to who he is, to what our relationship with him is, to what he has done for us. All we have to do is upload that into every fibre of our being, so that we walk the walk. We don’t need to question whether or not our witnessing has been received. The Spirit is the matrix carrying the message, and the Spirit in the lost is opening ears and softening hearts and exciting responses which we may never know about.

That’s not our problem. We don’t need to ‘email’ God to check up whether or not our message has been received by those we encounter. We don’t need to probe our friends and family to see whether or not they ‘get it’.

We just need to keep on the Way, keep living as Jesus guides us, keep speaking out what God prompts us to say, keep doing what the Spirit encourages us to do.

He does the rest.

Eine Mishmash

 

The counter beside the kitchen table is strewn with a mishmash of papers. Some relate to my US taxes, which need doing. Some relate to my mother’s affairs – that’s an entire red binder. Some are Christmas cards we’ve pulled out of the basket; they await my writing to the senders to let them know we are thinking of and praying for them. Some relate to a couple of writing projects I have underway – one commissioned (so I know it will be printed), the other speculative. There are also boxes of Covid test kits, a Bible, photos of grandkids, a BBC CD course on French, music CDs and some chocolates.

Eine mishmash.

It reflects my scattered self. I am hearing the news. Too much news, but somehow I can’t stop listening. I am praying, full of hope, and then full of despair. I do a bit of this, and a bit of that, but to sit down and actually think through a writing project and get the thoughts onto the screen eludes me.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus. It is only as I focus on him that I can shakily say, it is well with me. It is well because we are not abandoned. It is well because when God banished us from Eden, Jesus came with us. It is well because he is with us and will never leave us.

Despite all the signs, I choose to look to God and whisper, It is well with my soul.

Russian Invasion

 

I thought the forecast was for a second day like yesterday: clear, calm and cold. Instead it is grey and the wind is beginning to whip up.

I sat in the prayer window and watched the springtime antics of the birds. Playing tag in the bushes. Bobbing around in the field, swirling into the air, then back to the ground. And the house-hunters comparing the pros and cons of the different bird houses in the garden.

I don’t understand exactly what I’m watching with the birds, but I do enjoy it. I don’t understand quite why the weather is not conforming to the BBC forecast (and I don’t enjoy it!). And on the world stage, I am appalled and flabbergasted at the cruelty in Ukraine, and the heartlessness in the British government in painting a picture of a generous, open welcome in Calais to those fleeing Ukraine, when the reality is very few refugees can find out where to go, and when they do, they are directed to Paris or Brussels in order to get permission to enter the UK. Shame on Patel.

I was asked about Jesus’ words to his disciples, suggesting that when one is attacked, he/she should turn the other cheek. How to apply this teaching to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. I don’t know. I think I know what the right theology would be: love is more powerful than hate. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord. But I applaud the brave Ukrainians for standing up to the bully next door.

I don’t know an awful lot of things. But what I do know is that without Jesus, peace is an illusion. We need the Prince of Peace now more than ever before. Maranatha.

What is truth? Through the glass darkly

 

Now we see through a glass darkly, Paul wrote to believers in Corinth two thousand years ago. A few years earlier, Pontius Pilate looked at the prisoner Jesus and asked him, ‘What is truth?’

Yesterday, our weekly group came together to continue our study of the early church as reported in Acts. There was an immediate sense of anxiety and turbulence, as differing views were shared, passionately, about current events and the reporting of them. We pulled away from the yawning hole down which we were sliding by raising our voices and singing praises to the God of truth, the Prince of Peace. After a time of prayer, with our hearts and minds as one, we looked into the Bible. There in Acts 21 we read about a crowd of people who were agitated by the truth as they saw it, and were passionately crying out for Paul’s death. A Roman intervened and arrested Paul, taking him out of the immediate danger of being lynched.

Half way through our reading of the passage, a disturbed young man suddenly burst into our space and began a very disruptive, aggressive challenge to us. Like a tornado, a sense of chaos descended on us. A couple of wise women calmed him and ushered him out, and we continued to read. We were determined to keep our focus on God.

‘Please let me speak,’ Paul asked the commander. When he received permission, he addressed the crowd in their own language, and told them his story, about his miraculous meeting with Jesus Christ on the road to Damascus.

During these turbulent days, may we who follow the Prince of Peace keep our eyes on him. May we use any opportunity we have to introduce Jesus into the conversations we have. May we share our stories about our own encounters with the Son of God. May we all speak with humility, recognising the facet of truth we perceive is not the whole picture.

As Joseph told his brothers all those years ago in Egypt, what they meant for harm God used to bring blessing. ‘I am the way, the truth and the life,’ Jesus declared. He is the truth. Lord, protect and defend the innocent and vulnerable.

May this terrible war end soon in blessing upon blessing as we trust in the God of hope and peace. The God who is Truth. May he protect and defend the innocent and the vulnerable, confuse the plans of the aggressors, and restore peace.

Dry as Dust

 

Dry as dust.

Here in Scotland, I’m more accustomed to getting mired in mud than covered in a powdery film of dust. The only dust I see is that sitting on my furniture!

But I haven’t always lived in Scotland, and I remember the way the drought-stricken earth can become airborne and clogging, clouding vision and choking throats. Dust storms are disorienting and blinding.

Today is Ash Wednesday. Round the world, Christians will be marking themselves with dust, either physically or prayerfully, remembering that indeed, we are nothing more than dust without the breath of our Saviour bringing new life to us.

Dust clouds obscure truth and deepen the darkness within and without. On this day when our prayers and hearts focus on the violence and suffering in Ukraine, as our hearts and minds and voices join together crying ‘STOP!’, we ask God to forgive us when we have chosen to live in the confusion and darkness, when we have turned from his light and life.

There is no one good but God, Jesus said.

And yet, he died for us all. As I mourn for this world, lost and grovelling in the darkness and dust stirred up by pride, I cry out to God. Hosanna: save us!

Prince of Peace, have mercy on Ukraine today, Lord. Have mercy.

Lion or Lamb?

 

March 1. Here at the ‘hillock it is coming in like a lamb: a beautiful, sunny spring morning. Cold but without wind. A promise of things to come … although, the other side of that old wives’ tale proverb is that if it comes in like a lamb, it will go out like a lion. I hope not.

It isn’t coming in like a lamb in Ukraine this morning. Not as a lion either, but as a bear. Our hearts are heavy for the people involved. We pray for the Lamb to come in and stop the violence. We pray for the Prince of Peace to breathe peace and compassion in the hearts of all those intent on war. We pray protection on the people of Ukraine.

I have an image in my mind of the word processing package Pages on my iPad. When I want to edit one of the documents, there is something I press which starts everything jumping. Once the edit is complete, things resume stability. May the Lord of heaven and earth prevail today, and may he press the button which holds everything steady. And safe.