A Beautiful Morning

The glow of a golden dawn tinged the delicate pink blooms of the flowering cherry tree, giving them a richness and depth. The cherry tree was a gift from a friend thirty-four years ago when my sister died. The colour is a beautiful reminder of the gentle touch of the Father on our deepest griefs; his love doesn’t take away the pain but reminds us that whatever challenges we face, we never walk through them alone.

Sitting in the prayer window, I watch as a pair of geese fly low over the field. In silence. Usually I hear them coming, but this pair were perhaps just enjoying the beauty of the awakening spring morning. Aware of each other’s companionship.

Our precious daughter is on the flight from LA this morning, on her way to London. Tomorrow she should be making her way home to Scotland. Thanks be to God. It’s a beautiful morning.

The Light shines in the darkness

The world sinks into sepia as November marches on. It is tempting to sink with it. But the crab apple tree boasts a myriad of vibrant red fruits, sharply contrasting with the dying colours all around. The last roses of summer still bloom. All is not sepia.

Up before dawn this morning (sounds more impressive than it is, given the short days), I noticed the bright morning star twinkling strong and steady.

The cliché is that it is always darkest just before dawn. Certainly, the morning star shone brightly out of the greying sky, reminding me of Jesus. The light has come into the world, and the darkness has neither overcome nor understood it. It’s time to protect our inner flames from the diet of poison in today’s atmosphere – be it the political, the environmental, or the social arenas.

It’s time to shine.

When the darkness closes in, when the conversation resonates fear and uncertainty, I’m going to remember that morning star, take a deep breath of the Spirit, and share hope. Jesus invites us to walk in the light, trusting that he has it covered; he knows the end from the beginning; he is good; he is love, and he is faithful.

This is a fitting month for thanksgiving.

Just before Dawn

Always darkest just before dawn. We were out on the forward deck before 4 am; the moon shone but the focus was the approaching skyline of New York City. Perhaps the camera shook a bit with my shivering, but there was no way I was going back inside. I stood on deck with Don, poised for the gradual revealing of this iconic sight.

The Queen Mary 2 (CCR’s ‘Proud Mary’ going through my head – I guess that dates me!) ploughed ahead through the still waters of the Atlantic. We’d been told a pilot would come aboard but we didn’t see that transaction. But good to know that a local expert would guide us through the waters so that we would sail up the channel that is wide and deep enough for this huge vessel – and also that we would navigate safely beneath the Verrazano Bridge, which we cleared by a mere four metres or so.

Life can be dark and treacherous. Good to know that God has given us a pilot, his Holy Spirit, who comes on board to guide us through the darkness. Sometimes when things are rough we do just want to hide away, scarcely able to believe that it will ever get better. But if we can stand the shivering, it’s good to have our eyes on the horizon, watching for those first lights which herald a new dawn, a new day. 

Praying for all those affected by the Manchester bombing. Praying they will be able to hold on for the light that still burns bright and beckons us onward. Praying that out of this atrocity will come new shoots of love, blessings of peace.

God is good. Even in the darkness, he is with us, guiding us forward into the light.

Just before Dawn

The darkest hour is just before dawn.

‘My soul finds rest in God alone. Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.’ Psalm 62.

Trials can be extensive and the darkness can be deep. But the rhythm of the days, of the seasons, promises that the darkness gives way to light, that winter segues to spring and summer, and that as tough as our situation or circumstances are right now, the dawn is coming.

Thanks be to God. All my hope is in him.

Flaming Dawn

I drew the curtains to reveal a breath-taking sunrise. Hard to find a superlative that is not hackneyed and over-used. In the east, the sky flamed crimson and as the minutes ticked by, streaks of fiery red shot across the grey night-sky. 

It was God’s overture to another spectacular autumn day here in north-eastern Scotland. Yesterday the wind got up and puffed a bit in the afternoon and now a thicker carpet of yellows and oranges lies strewn on the lawn and the roads. Trees are beginning to shiver as branches are bared. 

In the beginning, God said Let there be light, and his Word brought light into being. May he say these words over your lives and situations today, and may the power of his Word flame light through your darkest valley.

Dawn is Breaking

Up before the sun this morning. Which sounds more impressive than it is at this time of year in Scotland. 

The dawn was breaking – that grey prelude to the day, at 7 when I stood in my prayer alcove and surveyed the familiar fields. I noticed that though the sun had not yet risen, the light showing on the tree trunks was lighter on the side facing east than on the other side. Gradually, though, the difference disappeared and the trunks were equally bathed in light.

But not every part. There are pockets of darkness in the intertwining trunks and branches, pockets which may well never see the light of day at all. In those pockets, one imagines, reside many nefarious creatures whose legless or alternatively many-legged forms writhe and scurry into deeper darkness as the dawn breaks. 

Jesus said that whatever is hidden will one day be revealed. There will come a day when the darkness will not be able to hide anything, when all will be revealed in the light of the glory of the coming King. That is a day to be joyfully anticipated, but in the meantime we are here for a purpose. We are here to let our light, the light of Christ within us, shine before others so they can see God and give him the glory.

Yesterday I had the privilege of serving in the local food bank for a couple of hours. It’s a job which can be acutely boring as not that many people come in. But the last two times I have had divine appointments with people who have sunk into the dark crevasses of life and are needing a helping hand out of them. A couple of guys winning the battle against drug dependency, and a guy whose life was derailed by his wife’s death and his subsequent sinking into alcohol. My prayer is that as they encountered us in the food bank, they were drawn more fully away from the strong temptations that may haunt them for life, drawn out of the dark and into the light.

May God bless all those whose life experiences have plunged them into pits of despair which led them to seek solace wherever they could. And may God bless us with generosity of spirit and depth of compassion, fuelled by the Holy Spirit, that we may be a blessing to whoever we encounter today.

So, it’s not yet 8 am and I am spiritually fed and watered and ready for whatever or whoever this day brings my way. So glad I can go into the day with Jesus. God bless you.

Head Space

I feel pathetic.

Jesus lived a very communal lifestyle. He travelled with a large group of people. Sometimes he camped out; sometimes he stayed with friends. When people knew he was around, he was mobbed. 

Yet he still set aside time to be alone with his Father. Even if that meant rising before dawn and meeting him in the hills. Even if that meant being out on the hills with him all night long. He knew he needed to create head space so that he could keep alive his relationship with his Father in heaven.

He may have been crowded physically, but he never let himself be crowded mentally / spiritually. He drew boundaries and kept them. He knew what was most important and that was what he did.

I’ve been living with a full house for awhile, and it is set to continue. I’ve watched my quiet times become eroded. I’ve watched that happen. I haven’t succeeded in preventing or circumventing it. Others would understand. I wouldn’t be persecuted if I said I needed an hour on my own with God. There are empty rooms. There are ways to accomplish so simple a task.

And yet very often I don’t. I allow the untidy house to dictate my actions. I live with a Martha mentality rather than a Mary mentality. 

And as I do that, I watch myself sink. I don’t see many instances of the Spirit dictating my attitudes and words – more instances of my own natural, sinful self coming to the fore again.

Lord, help me in this to be more like you. Forgive me for blaming my circumstances for my poor choices and lack of self-discipline. Enable me to walk the talk more day by day.

I don’t want to feel pathetic any more.