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Showing posts with label Mhairi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mhairi. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 March 2019

It is finished


The jealous men sold their hated little brother to passing slave-traders and lied to their father that he’d been killed by wild animals.

Years later, they found themselves begging for food in a neighbouring country. To their horror, they discovered the man with the power of life or death over them was none other than this ‘little brother’, Joseph.

Joseph reassured them. Though he struggled and wept, God enabled him to forgive them. God showed him that although his brothers meant to harm him, God turned a truly terrible thing round and used it to bless many.

Mhairi was criminally assaulted by a man with power seventeen years ago. He probably didn’t start, or stop, with her. The assault shrouded her life for years until now.

Last night she released the music video to Sadie Jemmett’s new song, Don’t Silence Me, in which she and other women who have been used and abused throw off the shroud of shame and walk free. I’ve shared the link on my FB page so hope all can find it as I’m not very good at social media.

Mhairi hasn’t named the perpetrator, preferring to pursue forgiveness. Not easy, but in Jesus, possible. I don’t say that lightly.

But, what was meant to harm, God has turned to good, a blessing for many. Redemption. Freedom.
As Jesus said from the Cross, ‘It is finished’.

Sunday, 2 October 2016

Sahara



My gaze falls on an old tumbler, a quarter full of water. Water gone stale, ignored, its value unremarked because in Scotland, it bubbles and tumbles, rises and roils, splashes and cascades and free falls from grey clouds passing overhead.  

Water, that refreshing resource so precious to life, longed for by those with parched lips and dry mouths, with unwashed clothes and unwashed hands, by those inhabiting dry and weary lands where it is craved.

Water-wealthy, our profligacy and waste mock the waterless weary.

 
Mhairi is booked and jabbed and packing her bag, which she will exchange here for her brother’s rucksack more suitable to sand and sand and more sand. Farewelling Tallulah’s feathers and hats for a week of aptly-named sweats, bunking in with a displaced refugee family in the western Sahara, she hopes to raise awareness of the plight of this forgotten people.

God bless you Mhairi, and all who contributed to the crowd-funding which has succeeded in sending her to the desert.