Octopus

Psalm 63 has been a favourite of mine for nearly thirty years, having become very meaningful to me when my sister died. This morning I read it again as part of my planned reading, and a few verses which I always tend to skim over jumped out at me.

I had been  praying the world, holding a globe in my hands and focusing on the black dots of trouble spots which I’ve marked. Lingering over the Middle East, thinking about the threats and barbaric beheadings being carried out by the members of IS, verses 9 and 10 suddenly carried meaning for me.

‘They who seek my life will be destroyed; they will go down to the depths of the earth. They will be given over to the sword and become food for jackals.’

I have never wished harm on anyone, but seeing the deliberate brutality and hearing about their plans to extend their ‘kingdom’ throughout the world has perhaps altered my thinking a bit. Especially in light of the recent charges brought against men in the UK who had plans to behead a citizen in public here. 

I saw the evil as an octopus, head in the Middle East but with writhing tentacles insinuating themselves into otherwise peace-loving countries, seeking to destroy. And I prayed that those tentacles might be amputated, in effect, beheading the evil organisation.

The difference between my praying those pretty negative words and David praying them thousands of years ago, though, is Jesus. Because of Jesus, I am not praying against individual perpetrators but against the evil spirit behind them. And because of Jesus, I am praying for my enemies as individuals, that they would be set free from the bondage to terror which they first embraced, before it got a hold of them. 

Jesus came to set us free, all of us, and when we let him, we are free indeed.

Black Holes Part 3

For someone with very little scientific knowledge, I seem to be rather focused on black holes at the moment.

It’s just that today, as I was praying for the world, I was using my most recent aide memoire, a small globe peppered with black dots where the current trouble spots are. Over the Middle East spreads a blanket of black dots. You can see where this is going. 

It appears from this globe that the Middle East is at present a black hole. Need presses on need. Atrocity follows horror. Injustice and pitiless brutality are mind-boggling in the extreme. Darkness pervades and it seems as if it is impermeable to light.

But even I know that when light comes, darkness flees. Jesus is the light of the world. When he comes into situations of extreme darkness, light comes with him. 

So, the Middle East is currently a place of extreme darkness, like a black hole eating up all the matter it encounters. But God has the power to transform that matter into brilliant light. He has the power to give individuals ‘Damascus-road experiences’. To change them from murderous zealots to Spirit-filled believers. Like a quasar, perhaps one day the Middle East will shine with the light of Jesus. 

No doubt about it. Jesus is the hope of the nations, and as dark as nations may appear, he can transform that darkness in an instant.

Nothing can separate us

The news is dire, augmented by links sent to me by various folk watching the brutality unfold in the Middle East. It would be easy to go downhill and feel like giving up. 

But the news has been dire before. In King Hezekiah’s time he was surrounded by a vicious army from Nineveh and he cried out to God for help. He trusted God to send in help and God did. Hezekiah knew where the real ‘big gun’ was and he went to him.

We Christians need to wake up and get on our knees and cry out to God for this world, for our brothers and sisters, and for the safety of Christianity in our own countries. We are in testing times and yet we often seem to be snoozing through them. 

With God there is always hope. Nothing can separate us from his love, Paul wrote to the Romans. Not even demons. Nothing. 

Paul also counselled his readers to pray constantly. As you drive, as you walk, as you cook. Pray for the peace of this world. Real peace. Christ-like peace. 

Nothing can separate us from God's love. Nothing.

Half a Rainbow

Awoke to a sunny but blustery day, a hint of the summer which is fast fading mixed with the unmistakable announcement that autumn is round the corner.

Down the bottom of the field outside of the living room window, half a rainbow sprouted from the ground. I love rainbows. One of the best things about Scottish weather is the frequency of rainbows.

Inevitably the song is in my head. Somewhere over the Rainbow. The words betray such a poignant longing for a better place, beyond reach, out of sight, hoped for desperately.

I thought of my wee anxieties and they pale into insignificance next to the terrifying situations in much of the Middle East right now. How the displaced, bereaved, wounded and frightened people there must long for ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ as they run for safety and often find nothing but barrenness and emptiness, no shelter, no food, no water. 

Jesus told his friends, that in this world there would be trouble, but not to lose heart because he has overcome the world. Encouraging words to hold on to in times of trouble, but I’m thinking that people in these Middle Eastern catastrophes may well be unable to hold on to any words, even if they do know them. What they really need is the Word to hold on to them. 

When we have times of illness or loss, there can be a numbness that prevents us from remaining faithful even to daily reading and prayer habits. In those times, it is the church gathering round whose prayers uphold the sufferer. 

May we, the church universal, be gathered round those suffering appalling pain and loss and do the praying for them. There is a place, over the rainbow so to speak, and Jesus has gone there before us to prepare it. May the people in dire need today have their hearts comforted by the peace which passes all understanding, so that they may rest and be cared for by the God of the poor.

Give them a full rainbow today, Lord, to remind them of your faithfulness.