Brace yourselves!

Brace yourselves! Hurricane’s coming...

I peer from the windows on a shrinking landscape, swaddled in deep mist. Autumn trees flare into the thickening grey. Larch twigs droop, waving limply in the breath of wind, which is forecast to increase to gale force and possibly even hurricane strength before the day is through. The outlook is bleak and the light appears to waver.

Brexit; Trump; North Korea; Iran; Syria; Ukraine; Myanmar; Venezuela. Wildfires; hurricanes; floods; earthquakes; drought. 

I peer at a global landscape, swaddled in deep mist. Truth flares into the thickening darkness of fake news and alternative facts. Hope swirls forlornly in the tornadoes of doubt and confusion. 

Through it all, though, shines a beacon of light, the light of the world, burning brighter as the darkness deepens. I lift my eyes to the hills, (which at the moment, I cannot see, so lost are they in the mist).Where is the help we need?

Our help remains in the name of the Lord who has made heaven and earth. It’s time to see with the inner eye, through Holy Spirit specs, and focus on Jesus. 

Brace yourselves!

Liberty and Freedom

Framing the channel down which we would pass, the Statue of Liberty held her beacon of light high on the left, while the Freedom Tower soared to the heights on the right. The skies were alive in a swirling mass of greys as dawn broke. I thought of the invitation on the Statue: ‘Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’

 

Here we were at the ‘golden door’, dawn breaking, our passports in order, visa secured, destination in sight, a place to go to and a daughter to see. We were not tired nor were we poor; we breathe free in our remote rural location in Scotland; we are not ‘wretched refuse, homeless, tempest-tossed’. And so we were welcomed in.

Had we been homeless, tempest-tossed refugees, the Statue of Liberty and the Freedom Tower would have initiated apprehension and fear. When my forefathers arrived on these shores, they were only afraid of rejection on health grounds. No TB and you were in to make your new life. Now? The confusing tangle of rules and regs and the fortress-mentality of the current administration, a mentality built on fear, disqualifies many if not most of the homeless, tempest-tossed refugees who cry for liberty and freedom. 

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free.” Jesus claimed these words from the ancient prophet Isaiah, and in him, and in him only, is there true freedom for all, vision and release from oppression.

Jesus is the light of the world, and his beacon of light still shines in the increasing darkness, inviting all who are tired and weary, hurting and broken-hearted, to shelter and thrive in him.

Beacon of Light

Let there be light. As darkness gave way to dawn and the Verrazano Bridge loomed in front, pinpoints of car lights became distinguishable. Inside each car, at least one individual headed to work, preoccupied by thoughts of the day ahead. God rode in every car, in the heart of every individual, whether or not they recognised his presence.

On the water, traffic moved in every direction. Towards port, away from port, transporting people from Staten Island to Manhattan and back again. The lights of the metropolis grew more distinct. Freedom Tower was unmistakable; the Statue of Liberty harder to find. 

My thoughts were with my ancestors. My great grandparents entered New York Harbour on a ship in 1892. No Verrazano Bridge. No Staten Island Ferry, Freedom Tower, cars or lights.

But the Statue of Liberty had been erected in 1886 and stood as a beacon of hope to my great grandparents and their four young children, under five years old. A beacon of hope, but a beacon of fear as well, as many even in those days were denied entry, usually for health reasons. Don and I stood on deck, excited and amazed at the beauty of the awakening city. My emotions ran high.

Jesus taught that we are to welcome the homeless. Who I am today hung on the decision to admit the Steenbocks to the USA on that day in 1892. May I display in all my thoughts, prayers and words, today, nothing but lavish generosity, welcome and love. There is a hurting world out there, and Jesus loves every individual.