Shalom

When they planted saplings just beyond the ‘haunted house’ a few years ago, they wrapped them in a protective plastic tube to keep the deer from nibbling them. As the trunks grow, the tube expands until eventually the girth of the tree pushes the plastic tubing right off. Presumably at this point the trees are strong enough to withstand any errant deer nibbling at its bark.

I noticed that as I walked by this morning, deep in thought and crying out to God. Serious situations beyond my control have arisen and as I voiced a fear this morning I was rebuked for my pessimism. As I reflect on that whole thing, I realize that as a mother, my instincts are always to protect, a bit like the plastic tubing. My family have all burst their plastic tubes long ago now, but still the instinct to protect is strong. And I think that has translated itself into a sense of responsibility to foresee all eventualities so that I can be ready with a plan in case it happens. I think that’s what my dad called being realistic when we accused him of being pessimistic, and I see myself in that same situation now.

I don’t want to put myself on the analyst’s couch here, but I do think that there is an element of not being able to relinquish and release. I know all of the promises of God and I believe them completely, but sometimes they sit in my head and fail to take the inward elevator down to my heart.  There is an element of control here, perhaps, of not completely moving on into my next season, letting go and trusting God. Still trying to stretch that protective wrap around my children when they have long ago outgrown it.

Today I will fast from every negative thought which threatens to invade my mind. I will close those doors. I will not allow fears of what might be to rob me of the peace of God which passes all understanding. I’m going to do what Paul coached the Philippians to do in chapter 4: ‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’

Shalom.

5 - 2

Fasting from food for two days a week seems to be the new miracle cure. Not only does it result in weight loss, but it also gives overworked organs a chance to rest and recover. 

Our bodies are such miracles of creation. I believe that God intervenes in startlingly miraculous ways sometimes to heal, but maybe the even greater miracle is that he has given us bodies with the innate ability to heal themselves. A child’s skinned knee, which scabs over while new skin is formed beneath the tear. The nuisance of the runny nose of a cold, which eventually dries up and equilibrium is restored. 

Perhaps the one ingredient required from us in this mix is time. We need to give ourselves time to heal. Time in bed when we are sick. Time off from eating when we are overweight. We need to find the rhythm of life which allows us to take time, without feeling guilty.

Our spirits, too, need time. To continually bombard our minds and ears with noise, with arguments and anxieties and stimulation, wears us out spiritually and gives us no time to experience the amazing reality of this world God has placed us in. 

We need to take time to sit and stare. To breathe deep. To enjoy the changing seasons. To laugh with a child, play with a dog or a cat. 

We need time to be. 

Will you join me today, and fast from busyness so that you can recover some of your balance and life? 

The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. It is the gift of God, and it can come in snatches every day, as well as in one big chunk on the weekend.