Focus

Not that I’ve ever done ballet, but I believe that when you are doing those spins the trick to not getting dizzy and sick is to focus on one point and keep your focus there with each revolution.

I remember a story someone told me about crossing a ravine on a shuggly jungle Indiana-Jones-type bridge. Totally freaking out, she was only able to make it across the abyss by focusing all her attention on her boyfriend on the other side. As long as she stared at him she kept putting one foot in front of the other. When she couldn’t resist the temptation, and looked down, she froze, paralysed with fear.

This is obviously a powerful image with a real nugget of truth in it. One of the Indiana Jones movies has the intrepid hero having to exercise incredible faith and step out onto an invisible bridge stretching over another killer abyss. As he stepped, the foothold came up to meet him and he successfully traversed the crevasse.

Paul writes that in life we are to focus our eyes on Jesus. If we want to do great things, or at least do ordinary things with confidence and a degree of ‘greatness’, we need to fix our eyes on Jesus and step out. Many things in life feel like an abyss. Much of it has to do with the unknown. Much of the fear comes from lack of self-confidence as we step out into uncharted territory. 

Maintaining focus on Jesus requires more than nodding assent to the truth that this is a good idea. It needs deliberate effort, or at least it does in my case. Reminding myself of God’s faithfulness and love by listening to inspiring and encouraging praise CDs. Reading Scripture and meditating on key verses and promises. Remembering God’s faithfulness through past testing times. Relying on the prayers of friends and family. 

Church – the body of believers who support each other – is God’s idea, and I am grateful, oh so grateful, for this wonderful body of disparate people united by one thing: focusing on Jesus.

Smell the Slurry

It’s a gorgeous day here today. Sun blazing out of a clear blue sky, very little wind, though the temperature is pretty close to freezing. A fine winter’s day.

One joy of living in the country is the smell of fresh air captured on sheets and clothing which has dried in the open, so I quickly stripped a bed and did a couple of loads of washing to hang out. One load was already out there when the farmer arrived in his tractor, towing the orange slurry spreader.

In minutes the fresh smells of early spring were obliterated by the rank stink of cow slurry being flung across the field surrounding our house. 

Don dashed out to pull in the wash, which now hangs inside – who wants to smell like a barn?

Paul writes to the Corinthian church that Christians are the pleasing aroma of Christ to God and to believers, but to those who don’t believe, we are the stench of death. Maybe that’s why some atheists are so aggressively vitriolic against Christians. To them, we stink.

Physically, I’d rather smell like Chanel No 5 or even a pleasant shower gel than cow dung! But if I’m marinating in God’s presence and his Word daily, maybe my spiritual smell is determined more by the perception of the sniffer than the aroma of my spirit.