Expectations

Two friends of Jesus trudged back home after a holiday weekend in the big city. They trudged, eyes downcast, hardly able to take in the disappointment, the shock, the grief. They talked as they walked, perhaps in staccato bursts of emotion with long silences between.

A stranger joined them and asked about their conversation. They couldn’t believe anyone could have been in Jerusalem over this Passover weekend and not know about the strange happenings. The crucifixions – maybe not such a headline grabber in this province of the brutal Romans. But these were different. There was an earthquake, too, and darkness over the land for three hours. The curtain of the Temple, thick and heavy, had ripped from top to bottom just as Jesus died on the cross.

And now, the strangest thing of all. The tomb where Jesus’ dead body had been laid was found empty by his followers and some claimed they had seen Jesus alive again, risen from death. How had this man not heard about all this?

The two friends hadn’t expected the weekend to end this way. It seemed a total disaster. 

As the stranger broke bread with them, though, they recognised him...Jesus! It was true! He was alive again. And then he was gone.

Some of my expectations don’t turn out as I think they will. I imagine fantastic outcomes and then can be disappointed when they don’t materialise. 

But hidden within every disappointment is a divine twist, because our creative Lord is able to bring beauty from ashes, joy from pain, life from death.

Today I am not so much carrying my own disappointments as I am the disappointments of others whom I know well. My prayer for them this day is that they will take a second look and see what the Lord is able to do with anything offered to him. 

I have no preconceived notion of what that might look like...only an expectation that when anything is put into the hands of our almighty God, he can do more with it than we can ask or imagine.

Happy Easter Tuesday!

Sunshine and Daffodils

Wow. What a homecoming. I flew off to Israel and California, where I experienced hail and rain (intermingled with some sunshine and warmth), and returned to the northeast of Scotland baking in the mid-70s. We’re havin’ a heatwave, and fortunately I got back in time to enjoy some of it.

It’s been a manic but wonderful two weeks, with intermittent internet access and intermittent energy to write a blog, but now I’m back in the ‘hillock I will try to resume a routine.

My main thought after such a trip is how good God is. He took me places I never dreamt I would be. He smoothed the way so that my dear Mom, 87 years old and with a stress fractured foot, was able to participate fully in the Holy Land tour. Her resilience and true grit were an inspiration, and the gift of the tour was to sit beside her in the Garden of Gethsemane and hear her dear voice singing loud and clear a hymn she sang as a child and which she says she sang to me as a baby (it worked too well – I must have fallen asleep immediately because I didn’t know it!) Amazing. Sitting underneath olive trees that were 3,000 years old, facing the wall of Jerusalem with the gate which Jesus would have passed through many times, through which Judas would have led the Temple soldiers, a shorter distance than I ever imagined across the Kidron Valley.

I hope to develop more reflections on the trip as the jet lag recedes and the brain kicks back into creative mode. 

Today I just give a heartfelt thanks to my Lord and Saviour, for my mother, my family, the trip and the homecoming, sunshine, daffodils dancing in the breeze, and two big bunches of roses from my dear soul mate Don. 

What more could a woman want?

Excitement Rising - how about the temperature?

Into final countdown until the Big Adventure to the Big Apple and Beyond – all the way to the Holy Land! 

My To-Do lists are beginning to have more ticks and scored off bits than glaring gaps – apart from the ‘Prepare to Pack’ and ‘Pack’! 

My mind has been a maelstrom of disparate thoughts but all are beginning to coalesce into – have I made all the contingency plans possible for meeting Mom at JFK? The thought of it turns my blood to water but at least that doesn’t clot...

Next week at this time I shall be in Jerusalem. That is just such an amazing thought I can hardly take it in. I am preparing myself to feel all sorts of emotions as I walk in the land where Jesus walked. I remember how I felt walking in Ephesus and other places Paul visited or lived in.

Meanwhile, my biggest task on today’s list was the annual trip to the dentist and the underlying frisson of anxiety that he may just discover some deadly decay burrowing into a tooth. But no, today everything was perfect.

Now I’ve had a message on the answer machine. Snow in Jerusalem. NO! It’s not possible. I’m hoping to warm up there, but maybe that isn’t to be. How can I immerse myself in the Jordan and the Dead Sea, if it is snowing?

Well. We’ll see. Weather is beyond my control, as is most of the rest of the journey once we start. 

 So I am beginning to set my face towards Jerusalem. As Jesus did over two millennia ago. 

But unlike me, he was in perfect control of every detail. Though it might not have seemed so to others at the time.

Jerusalem Jottings

On February 2 I turned my face towards Jerusalem. 

Not because it was Groundhog Day and I wanted to see my shadow. But because there is about one month to go before I truly will turn my face towards Jerusalem.

I’m going on Pilgrimage.

Though in a sense, I’ve always been on Pilgrimage. 

And it slightly worries me that when the Bible says Jesus turned his face towards Jerusalem, it heralded the beginning of the end. But oh, what a glorious end!

So. On February 2, I bought myself a handbag large enough to contain the IPAD Don and I bought for each other for Christmas. :-) 

I hope to travel light. Carry-on luggage only. We’ll see.

Rather belatedly, I’m starting to look for books I should be reading in preparation. I would have thought this tour company would have recommendations. But no.

I’m thinking of purchasing some sort of teach yourself Hebrew book. I am sure that Don already has a teach yourself Arabic. 

Not that I will probably need them. I fear that the most historic sites may feel a little like Disneyland, complete with cute kiosk staff and ‘have a nice day’ English speakers. But still. 

I’m beginning to think of ready cash. Dollars? Shekels? Talents?

But the most exciting thing I’m thinking about, is the seed of a writing project. 

We’ll see how we go.