Bees and Endurance

An outsize, fuzzy bee buzzed round the gooseberry bush this morning, pausing at each bud. I say bud, but to our eyes, the ‘buds’ were still closed and didn’t appear to be offering any sweet nectar for this hungry bee. But perhaps it was there, as he persisted from one bud to the next. 

Psalm 118 repeats many times that we should give thanks to the Lord, because his love endures forever. This morning the word ‘endures’ popped out at me. We often think of love in sentimental, romantic ways, but God’s love is a tough love that ‘endures’ forever. It is enough to carry us through the bad times. 

When it seems like the buds of his love are shut, we should have the persistence of that bee, who perhaps sensed better than we did that there was sweetness within those green folds. There is always sweetness in the arms of Jesus, and his love endures forever. I love the strength that endurance reveals. I love the dedication. I love the will power and focus.

Give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever.

D-Day Remembered

Today is the 70^th anniversary of D-Day. Here in the UK the media marks the anniversary with concerts, programmes, much laying of wreaths and interviews with ‘old soldiers’ who have gone to the beaches of Normandie to remember. Some have travelled in the normal ways, by boat, plane, bus, or car, but one doughty 89-year-old parachuted in today, strapped to a red beret soldier, and one veteran sneaked out of his old folks’ home and made his way to the scene of such bravery and loss of life, where his memories would be strong and his emotions high. He’s obviously not lost any of his fight and initiative.

The concert from the Royal Albert Hall is telling the story of D-Day in the words written in letters of soldiers and spoken by the leaders of the time. The story is being beamed round the world to soldiers in today’s conflicts.

Psalm 61 reads ‘I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety, for you are my safe refuge, a fortress where my enemies cannot reach me. Let me live forever in your sanctuary, safe beneath the shelter of your wings.’

When I think of the anguish and agony of the brave soldiers invading the continent I think many must have cried to God for help. Their hearts must have been overwhelmed.  Many never made it any further than the sandy beach. Some never even made it out of the water. Many must have wondered why they were there. 

But waiting in Europe were those under the jack boot of the Nazis, desperate for an invasion by the allies. Anne Frank, in hiding with her family in Holland, wrote in her diary that they were waiting anxiously for help to arrive.

For some, including Anne Frank, help didn’t arrive in time. For some who were the help, there was no safe refuge, no fortress where enemies couldn’t reach them. 

War is an affront to God and humanity. But in some cases there seems no other choice but to fight to throw off a vicious oppressor.

When Jesus walked the earth in Jerusalem, the people of Israel watched desperately for a heavenly invasion to overthrow the ruthless Romans. It’s understandable why many Jews expected Jesus to take up arms and call out a band of fighters to get rid of the occupying forces. But that wasn’t God’s plan.

God provided sanctuary, in the shape of his only loved son. Any who take shelter in Jesus are safe forever in the arms of a loving God. 

Thank God for those brave men and women who fought for freedom 70 years ago on the beaches of Normandie, and thank God for the brave Jesus Christ who fought for eternal freedom 2,000 years ago. Thank God he didn’t just overthrow the Romans; he overthrew evil itself, and one day the mop-up operations will be over and we will all live in God’s sanctuary, safe beneath the shelter of his wings. Forever.

Disruption

It wasn’t enough to have the broadband only working intermittently. 

Now the Northeast of Scotland is being battered by severe storm winds which, this morning, turned off the lights. And the heat. And the electric shower...

So here I am in Don’s office, trying to catch up emails, send in an article which is due today, and remain calm and unruffled despite the onslaught.

Is it just my perception, or do ‘things going wrong’ gather their own momentum, like a cyclone, and begin to cause disruption in more and more areas? 

When I moaned to my friend in a text this morning about our power going out, she replied that I shouldn’t worry, God’s power was still working.

That’s right. Through it all, God’s power continues to work. The things I stress about here are a blip in the course of time. 

Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Yesterday he created the world. Today he is with me in it. And forever – wow. Something other-worldly, for sure. No power outages, or intermittent broadband.

Chosen

OK, you can concentrate on your breathing. That’s a good way to slow yourself down, to restore calm, to quieten down.

But isn’t it kind of empty to just focus on your breathing – in, out, in, out?

One of the major UK newspapers carried an article on the weekend about the place meditation has in contemporary corporate environments, where many executives encourage their staff to take a break and – no, not have a KitKat (a British ad for a certain chocolate biscuit/cookie) – sit still, breathe deep, and meditate.

It mentioned TM. It mentioned just focusing on the breathing in, breathing out. It talked of emptying yourself. Of clearing your mind, and of that emptiness bringing refreshment.

It didn’t mention Christian meditation. No wonder. For too long the church has shied away from mentioning that meditation is one of the spiritual disciplines of Christians down through the centuries. People naturally associate meditation with the eastern religions, but it is orthodox Christian practice as well.

But Christian meditation is not about emptying your mind. It's about filling it with a growing knowledge of God. Not knowledge about God – for that you can just read your Bible or other commentaries or books. But a knowledge of God – an understanding deep within your being of just who he is. It’s about filling your mind with Truth so that you can recognize Lies when you hear them.

It's about reading a short section of Scripture, and reading it again and again, slowly, thoughtfully, until it's in your memory and in your very being for recollection throughout the day.

 

I’ve been filling my mind today with God’s words from the book of Isaiah, chapter 43. Just how fantastic are these words? “You have been chosen to know me, believe in me, and understand that I alone am God. There is no other God – there never has been and there never will be. I, yes I, am the Lord, and there is no other Saviour.”

Wow. You have been chosen. 

If you’ve ever applied for a job, entered a contest, filled in an application for a university, you will have had a period of waiting while you were longing to have those words communicated to you: you have been chosen. 

You didn’t have to apply for this. You don’t have to measure up. You don’t have to have attained a certain standard of anything. God says – “You have been chosen to know Me.”

When I chew that thought over, much like a cow chews her cud, all the negatives which may have crowded my day drain away and I am at peace. What does anything else matter?

God has chosen me. And you. To know him. Forever.

Wow.

Blond curls in the sunshine

Sometimes when I’m praying, I close my eyes and there is an immediate and unexpected picture revealed in my mind. Today, a rather grey and grisly one here at Barehillock, I saw the upturned face of a 2-year-old child, blond curls shining in the hot sunshine beaming down on a typical American back porch.

I knew it was my sister, though I didn’t really know her in any sentient way when she was 2 as I had just been born. I knew her – was I seeing the memory of a forgotten picture from a photo album of my parents’? – though I can’t say there was instant facial recognition. Just a deep inner sense that I knew. This was Judy. 

She was laughing and playful, full of fun and life. 

Full of life. Judy passed away 25 years ago, when she was still young. Too young. This picture I saw this morning was a gift, a reminder that life does not cease when the body dies. Praise God for that. She is still laughing, full of fun, somewhere else in this vast universe, or as close as my breath. Who knows. But the promise is a promise. Life goes on. It just keeps getting better.

With that awesome promise encouraging me, I will press on with the tasks at hand, still missing her like crazy, but knowing, deep down, that separation isn’t forever.

Life is.