Tweets

As we retraced our steps along the wooded lane, Mhairi remarked how green and lush it looked: with an old tumbledown shed to the front of us, it resembled a painting by Constable or another artist. The rain was beginning to drizzle onto us, fine and light.

Passing on to the paved drive through farming fields we became aware of a bird – perhaps a pied wagtail – ushering us onwards, darting forward and back, calling out with apparent agitation. We wondered if there were a nest nearby and he was warning us off. We speculated that once we’d departed his neighbourhood, he might have bragged about the way he saw off the intruders before they could do any real damage.

We were passing through, with no intentions towards the bird, obviously. It made me wonder, though, how often in life I see issues or people, giants, who are ‘passing through’, and I imagine them to be threats. Sometimes, I imagine that my actions prevent the threat from occurring, when, in fact, there never was danger or risk.

Sometimes an issue or a person can be a risk, though, and again, I might be the one to prevent the situation but, more likely, as I’ve agitated and worried, it’s God who has protected me from a negative result. I congratulate myself later for having accomplished something significant, when, in fact, my tweets from the sides made no difference at all.

James, the brother of Jesus, wrote that if we lack wisdom, we should ask God, who ‘gives  generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.’ In these days, there are many situations, real and fearfully imagined, which require wisdom. I don’t know about you, but I feel a little like we’re careening down a steep hill in a go-cart with nobody steering. But of course, somebody is steering. Perhaps the lack of great leadership will expose more clearly the divine leadership which will guide us all home.

We will be most effective when we stop tweeting from the side, and start praying on our knees.

Wild Atlantic Waves

You may have to bear with me while I unpack some of the thoughts of the past fortnight, when we voyaged across the Atlantic from Southampton to New York City. I’ll start with the waves.

The crossing was mostly calm, but one of the days the seas swelled to Force 7. Because of the great stabilisers on the Queen Mary 2, we experienced very little movement on board – a great blessing. Who wants to be seasick? I stood on our balcony (yes, worth the extra cost for sure!), and watched the swell of the waves meet the wash from the huge liner. Where the moving waters collided, their darkness gave way to beautiful tropical shades of aquamarine. Why? I’ve no idea, but it provided a welcome flash of colour in an otherwise shades-of-grey seascape. 

Reflecting the turbulent seas were the swirling clouds overhead. Shades of grey there too. Everything was moving, and yet nothing was ‘alive’ in the sense of being animate. Their action made them appear alive, but they are just material mixing and re-mixing due to currents, winds, tides, whatever.

It reminded me of a comment in the book of James, that the doubter is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. Now I’m thinking that the doubter is spiritually inanimate, only coming to life once anchored to the rock of Christ. Riding at anchor, a believer is moved and swirled but never goes under in a churning maelstrom of events and emotions. Anxiety is like the tossing sea, inanimate itself but affecting thoughts and emotions so that what begins in one place, ends in another.

James’ comment was in the context of a person asking God for wisdom; when one asks, she needs to believe the Lord has given wisdom to her and act on it, not remaining marooned in a lagoon of self-doubt and questions. 

The only way to survive a Force 7 in life is to remain anchored to The Rock.

Diamonds are Forever

Out of the mouths of babes...

Yesterday in church, the children were asked to name some of the beautiful things God has created. One voice piped up, ‘Diamonds.’

That drew a laugh (as did, in response to the question of what is necessary for life, the answer ‘broccoli’).

I keep thinking about the diamonds. Diamonds are created from something dirty and ugly, when it is put under enormous pressure. I am just such a thing. Something smudged by sin and misshapen by rebellion. When the pressures of life bear down on me now, though, having given my life to Jesus and trusting him to cleanse and purify me, I can expect that those pressures are creating a diamond which will last forever. 

And so, as James wrote, ‘Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colours. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.’ ... ‘Anyone who meets a testing challenge head-on and manages to stick it out is mighty fortunate. For such persons loyally in love with God, the reward is life and more life.’ (The Message)

Diamonds are forever. And that's what we are becoming, through all the trials and tribulations. Thanks to God's grace and mercy.

Live Well

I’ve been thinking about my impact on the planet. Not just my carbon footprint (which is larger than I want it to be mainly through having family scattered around the world), but also my consumption of resources. Meat. Energy. 

‘Live well; live wisely; live humbly’ counsels James the brother of Jesus in his letter in the New Testament.

Too often we – I – think living well entails dark chocolate and nice red wine, tasty food, a warm bed, good friends and family with whom to socialise. There’s nothing wrong with any of these things – especially the friends and family – but if they become the focus of my aspirations then my life becomes unbalanced and I am not living either wisely nor humbly.

To live a truly humble life I need to be more self-sacrificial, more generous, with money and time. I need to lower my own expectations for ‘good living’ – no, not lower them but re-define them. 

Paul wrote that he had learned to be content in all circumstances, whether well fed or hungry, cold or warm, alone or with others. 

Lord, may I be content with less, day by day.

Live well; live wisely; live humbly. I can do this through Jesus who will show me the way.

Shadow Sites

While in London last week, we looked around some of the exhibits at the V&A Museum. There is one of Middle Eastern photography, the way it both can reveal and distort truth. In particular, we watched a video by Jananne Al-Aru called Shadow Sites II. 

In a series of aerial videos shot over a vast swathe of apparently empty, dead desert, the videos revealed that as the focus closed in on the desert floor, life was evident. Entire communities, lines of cultivation and residential properties, became identifiable the closer the camera got to the ground.

It made me think of how many times we may assume that friends or acquaintances have no spiritual life going on inside them, because from our perspective there is no evidence. Our perspectives are never fool-proof, though; they may distort truth. 

It reminds me of a conversation I had years ago, a conversation of which I am ashamed, in which I accused someone of not ‘believing in Jesus anyway’. The retort came back in a flash. ‘How do you know what I believe?’

Of course there should be evidence. James wrote that faith without works is dead. But sometimes spiritual awakening may be just beginning in someone, and evidence may not yet be discernible. 

Note to Self: never assume; never condemn; always be generous towards other people.