Feel the Father's Embrace

A blustery wind ruffles my lengthening hair as I patrol the garden, checking the condition of spinach and rhubarb, peas and beans, apple trees and blueberry bushes. I particularly note the flowers opening on the strawberry plants.

It is still cold in this corner of Scotland. Colder than May should be. Dry and sunny many days, overcast and dry other days, but cold. One thinks that plants flower because they are teased into activity by a warm sun, a balmy breath of wind.

But no. The strawberries are in bloom despite the chill. It’s part of their DNA. Hopefully as the blossom transforms into strawberries, a warm sun will bring a sweetness to the fruit which is borne.

Paul wrote to the people in a town in Asia Minor (Turkey), a town called Colossae, and told them that he was praying for their endurance and perseverance, patience and joy, during tough times, so that they might bear fruit.

During these chill days of lockdown and pandemic fear, may I endure and persevere patiently and with joy, allowing the flowers of kindness, peace, love, joy, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control to form and be expressed through my words and my actions. In due season, may these flowers become fruit to nourish those who have yet to give their lives to Jesus. May eyes be opened as the fruit of the Spirit is seen and tasted.

May we be more eager than ever to share the reason for our hope during these days when many are sinking into despair. It is in our DNA as Christians. God is good. In the world there is plenty of trouble, but we can take heart because Jesus has overcome the world. And he has gifted us with the indwelling Holy Spirit, and it is this wonderful Spirit who grows the fruit in us as we abide in Jesus.

Feel the Father’s embrace today, and be thankful. xx

Rain Fire

There are times when it can feel that the things I offer to God become drenched in life’s vagaries. I do things because I feel led by God; I pray in faith for things in response to his direction; yet they sit in a puddle and don’t ignite. It can be discouraging.

Elijah watched as the Baal worshippers worked themselves into a frenzy in order to persuade their god to light their dry fire. Nothing happened. No response from their idol.

Then, instructing that the wood on the altar built to God be saturated in water, Elijah prayed a simple prayer. Lord, light my fire; accept this offering to you. A fire blasted from heaven, igniting and consuming the sacrifice.

There is a lot of worldly junk around just now, trying to quench the fire within us. The more drenching, the more prayer: come on, Lord, light the fire of revival here in this place, here in this nation, here in this world.

Start with me.

Those who trust in the Lord bear fruit even in a season of drought. May we all trust, and see others enjoy the fruit of the Spirit.

Seeds of Hope

We’ve had our morning exercise. A brisk walk down the road, picking up litter in one bag, shovelling up horse manure in the other.

The litter went into the bin. Lifeless and decayed, sterile and unable to nurture or feed anything.

The horse manure went into the vegetable patch. What passed through the horses and came out as waste is rich in nutrients to boost the growth of new life, new plants.

In these days of lock down, perhaps many are thinking they are days like the litter, long and good for nothing but discarding. But they don’t need to be. They may feel like ****, but there is life and growth in them if only we allow ourselves to learn lessons and build bridges.

On our walk, we met neighbours who we rarely see. Keeping our social distance, we caught up with them. Briefly. I was so touched when one offered to drive to Heathrow if we needed help getting our daughter home. We hardly know him.

There are green shoots of new life everywhere. Words of kindness and encouragement. Offers of help and words of hope. Connections being made online, on the phone, across the garden fence at a safe distance.

Our vegetable garden will look different in a few months’ time. We hope it will be full of fruit and vegetables to feed our bodies. The wintry garden we are living in during isolation will also look different in a few months’ time. If we take care to nurture relationships now, they will be lush and blooming when we can resume social life again. We are already talking about a neighbourhood BBQ.

Jesus came to give us life in the full. We have yet to experience the fullness he died to bring us. But just as spring is the season of hope, so this awful pandemic carries in it the seeds of hope for a more caring, more connected, less broken world.

In this season of Lent, I am more aware than ever of the faithful love of Jesus as he headed towards the cross for me. The horrible cross carried with it seeds of hope and life, as Jesus was fully glorified as he rose again, triumphant over death and disease. He is still triumphant over death and disease, even in this pandemic. Hallelujah.

Quiet surprises

Clusters of orange berries flame bright on the rowan tree outside the window. When did their colour become so vibrant? Unnoticed, the fruit matured until now it is joyfully vivid.

Continuing the thought of the quiet maturation of the fruit of the Spirit within each of us. We don’t notice the Lord’s work until one day something highlights the joyful reality that through him, one of the fruits he has grown in us has fed someone else.

Moses was on a mission, and yet curiosity drew him to the burning bush, where he paused to wonder why it wasn’t consumed by the flames. Many mornings I write my ‘to-do’ list and set off on my missions for the day. May I indulge the childlike curiosity which often lies dormant under my grown-up responsibilities, and step aside today to pause and wonder at the mysteries in this wonderful world.

How wonderful it will be if, like Moses, I hear God’s voice.

Fruit that Lasts

Golden blossom blows across the driveway. Flowers which were once beautiful, now withering on the ground. Some flowers are transforming on the trees into fruit which we – or the pigeons – will enjoy in a month or two. Others leave behind simply a dessicating residue of brown.

We flower. We wither. We can choose to leave behind fruit for others to enjoy. The fruit that lasts is the fruit that God grows in our lives. All that’s needed of us is a life surrendered to him.

Fruit

When we moved in here over thirty years ago, there was a damson tree in the garden which dripped with a profusion of fruit in the autumn. We paid the Cub Scout son of a friend, working on a ‘bob a job’ badge, to climb the tree and bring in the crop. I then discovered how labour-intensive it is to deal with damsons and in future years, as the tree’s fecundity lessened, I was relieved.

Well, the birds graciously planted a new damson for me and this year, we returned to find a carpet of the richly-coloured plums spread on the ground. I’ve now gathered them in, and am about to figure out how to deal with them. Damson gin isn’t the answer as we don’t particularly drink it and am not sure if anybody else does.

I always seem to be going on about harvesting fruit, but that is because this is such an unusual year. We’ve not really had many, if any, damsons since that early year, nor have we had the cherries or plums like we do this year. Conditions have been perfect for the crops here at the ‘hillock, though others we know have not enjoyed such bounty.

The Bible talks of Christians as people who bear the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, and so on. We are to nourish others with the goodness that comes from Jesus through us. But as they say, life happens, and sometimes the storms disturb the blossom before it can set the fruit. Or drought shrivels what is there. Not every year is a good year. When we are going through drought or storm, we may not have it in us to bear much fruit. We’re not always aware of the droughts or storms others are going through, so can find it hard when we are let down, left un-nourished by others.

My dear friend often says, ‘Put your expectations in nobody but God. Everyone else will let you down sometimes.’ It’s unintentional, often, but it may be that someone else just has no fruit to share.

If you’re in a place of plenty, may you find many ways to can, bottle, bake and infuse your fruit so others can enjoy it. And if you’re in a drought, may you draw nourishment from Jesus himself, so that his fragrance and love can once again bless others.

As Psalm 1 says, blessed are those who delight in the Lord and meditate on his word, because ‘they are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season.’

So as I tackle my crop in the kitchen, I will put on praise music and delight in the Lord, meditating on him and his wonderful love for us. And hope the fruit is not just in the jars and puddings and pies, but also in me.

Leaves for the Healing of the Nations

The leaves of a fruitful bush growing beside a spring of fresh water will be used for the healing of the nations, the Bible tells us in Ezekiel.

The fruit from the bush nourishes the hungry; the leaves are used for the healing of the nations.

I’ve been thinking of this for hours as I picked blackcurrants, and am up to my eyeballs in blackcurrants readying them for jam making. I think I need to revisit a bit of botany and photosynthesis and what the purpose of leaves really is!

I believe that leaves absorb some of the pollutants in the air, and then along with using the sunlight they convert it into the green goodness of plants. I think I need to make sure of this, but it does have some obvious parallels to the purpose of leaves in this biblical sense.

Perhaps never has the world been in more need of healing. We Christians need to spend more time in the Word to figure out just what this verse means. The healing of the nations...

As we Christians immerse ourselves in the living water, fully refreshed in Jesus, we bear fruit which nourishes the spiritually famished around us. And maybe there is a sense that we also act as leaves, attracting pollutants – bad attitudes, thoughts, atmospheres, etc – and converting them into healthy attitudes.

How does that bring healing to the nations? One person at a time?

 

What do you think?

This is the Day ...

This is the Day...

This is the day that the Lord has made. Why is it always easier to sing/say that on a day like today – warm sun beaming out of a mostly blue sky, soft summer breeze rustling the flowers and leaves on the trees? A grey, misty cold day presents more of a challenge in declaring breezily, ‘This is the day that the Lord has made.’

A day like today draws me outside. Some light weeding, not too much given the state of my back. Then a quick car wash, to clean away the many many signs that the swallows are nesting in the roof of the garage. I love the swallows with their midnight blue feathers, but ...

Dusty deigned to walk with me part way round our usual path, but it’s too warm when clad in such a fur coat, and the flies mushroomed round her face. She soon turned back. 

If my back were healed I would cut the grass, because the buttercups and daisies are rising above it and giving our ‘lawn’ the appearance of a meadow. They are pretty. It is a shame to cut them really, though I enjoy the sight of a trim, tidy lawn.

Jesus told a story about a farmer sowing his crop, and someone with evil intent slipped into the field in the night and sowed weeds amongst the good seeds. Jesus advised letting the crop grow to harvest time and then cutting it all and separating the weeds out then, rather than risking uprooting some of the good plants growing in the field in an attempt to root out the weeds.

In each of our lives, weeds grow amongst the good seed. Some of them are prickly and ugly and we may be able to weed them out without much trouble. Others, though, appear good. Some ‘weeds’ in our lives may even flower or produce fruit. I’m thinking of other people, friends or family, who may not follow Jesus and yet they are compassionate, helpful citizens who do many good things. Are they ‘weeds’ or are they a good crop, just late in recognising the source of all good? 

Don’t judge, unless you want to be judged yourself by the same standard which you apply in judging others. That’s something else Jesus said. There are a lot of lovely flowers in the field in which I live. I’ll let Jesus bring in the final harvest, and work on allowing his Holy Spirit to bring to maturity the fruits which he is growing in me.

Some weeds are just flowers planted in the wrong place.

Nip it in the Bud!

I may be running the risk of losing readers who have no interest in gardening if I keep banging on about gardening metaphors for life but ... just one more. 

I’ve been talking about God the Father being a divine, gentle gardener pruning us of negative emotions, attitudes, memories even. This morning I was thinking of the phrase ‘to nip it in the bud’ and its relevance for what God the gardener does. Sometimes there is a temptation to entertain a thought which grows into a concern which swells into a worry which overwhelms into anxiety which can oppress us into depression, and which we can’t seem to shake. 

This often dark and dreich time of the year can be an incubator for such thoughts.

I am praying this morning that any such incipient ideas in me – and in you – will be nipped in the bud by our loving Father. 

I pray that even if we haven’t the wisdom ourselves to dismiss a thought which could easily grow into a giant of an anxiety, the Lord will reach down with his divine secaturs and snip.

Spring is coming, and I’m looking forward to voluptuous blossoms and nourishing fruit.