Shrunken...

‘I put a wash on,’ he said helpfully. ‘I saw the pile there.’

My heart sank. That’s where ‘the pile’ always is, but usually it’s ignored. Last night, I dropped a favourite cardigan there, amongst the rest. A merino wool cardi which I planned to wash by hand.

‘Everything?’ I groaned. ‘Not the sweater…?’

He looked stricken.

It’s over now. The wash is over; the sweater has shrunk.

Why is it that when I drop or chip a mug, it’s one of the new ones and not one of the old pottery ones I’d quite like to drop? Or if the stem of a wine glass breaks in the dishwasher, it’s never one of the ancient ones the petrol station gave away decades ago?

The thing I’m reminding myself of this morning is the love with which the deed was done, not the mistake that was made. I can get another sweater; the love is priceless.

Don’t store up treasures on earth, where moth and rust and hot temperatures in washing machines can ruin them. Store them up in heaven.

Love is certainly a gift from God. I am so grateful for his love – both God’s, and my dear husband’s.

Open Door

Housekeeping is not my strength, and with the busyness of my days at the moment, I have really dropped the ball. Even I have a limit to the untidiness I can tolerate, though, so here I was last night, cleaning house at 9.15. I heard the car pull up and stop. I was expecting Don back from a meeting. I was not expecting him to bring some Syrian friends with him.

I greeted them at the door, duster in hand, face flushed with embarrassment that they should encounter such a mess. They were gracious, happy to be here. I found a packet of nice biscuits but it was the end of a Ramadan day for them, and I was mortified that I couldn’t really think of anything more substantial to offer them, like a big cheese scone or something with their tea!

We enjoyed our conversation. We shared our lives, our experiences. Our cup of tea.

Sometimes we stress that we need to have everything in order, everything perfect, before we open our doors and invite the stranger in. Jesus surprised me last night by bringing the sisters to my door in the middle of my disarray. An untidy room doesn’t matter. An inhospitable heart does.

A heart that grows two sizes in a breath

Oh, the thoughts I have as I look out my prayer window! This morning I realised that the bushes I trimmed a few weeks back are now throwing up new shoots, and the whole body of the bush is growing up as well. The view has shrunk by about a quarter. It led me to think how easily I can let shoots of thought – many of them selfish, critical, or negative – to grow up and restrict the God-given perspective Jesus wants me to have. It’s easiest to trim out those shoots one by one as they appear, rather than wait until they strengthen into wooden branches of unhelpful thinking.

Having read books for years to my four kids and now some grandchildren, I thought of one favourite – How the Grinch Stole Christmas. While the self-centred Grinch punched the air rejoicing in his presumed success at stealing Christmas from the Whos in Whoville, he was interrupted by the sound of sweet singing where he expected to hear heartbroken wailing. He had assumed that Christmas came in gifts – all of which he had stolen, rather than understanding that it is a Gift, and that Gift is love. And ‘his heart grew two sizes that day’.

The errant branches were pruned away and the Grinch could see clearly. The vision was breath-taking, transformative and life-giving.

May I recognise the errant branches in my mind today and prune them off as soon as they tempt me to think selfishly, critically, or negatively. Scripture declares we have the mind of Christ – but only as we work with the Holy Spirit to develop it. I long for his perspective, not my own, for in him only do we have fullness of life and are we set free from thoughts which rob us of our peace, compassion and love.

Anti-ageing

‘Any worries about your skin’s appearance?’ the beautician asked. I was about to enjoy a Christmas present, a facial and head massage.

Now if I had lesions or suspicious moles or something, I might be worried. The beautician continued with a question: is your skin dry or oily: I had no idea. Combination sounded safe. I obviously don’t spend a lot of time looking at my skin.

She proceeded with the facial. After the luxurious treatment with oils and potions and even coconut oil in my hair, I was relieved when the young Spanish woman did not hit me with a big sales pitch, but just explained their ‘deals’ if I wanted to come back. She particularly highlighted the anti-ageing collagen treatment for a mere £60. I smiled and left.

People check out each other’s appearance, God says in the Bible, but he looks at the heart.

Rainbowed

Monday, Monday. Dawned misty, with early morning glows emanating from the trees in all their glorious autumnal attire. As I headed down the road with my neighbour, walking to keep fit, we walked towards the arc of a rainbow. Odd drops of cold rain fell on woolly hats but the air remained fresh and clean.

Overnight rain steamed from the fields as the sun’s warming rays fell. Curious cows paused in their cud-chewing to regard us with solemn stares. Occasionally a calf would find us too startling and would dash away from the barbed wire fences.

Beauty is all around. God’s masterpiece remains a masterpiece despite the suffering which is also all around. And above the suffering there still arcs the rainbow, the sign of God’s promise of fidelity and love. Today I am thinking of the suffering, but remembering that through it all there is the God who joins us in it. Jesus, our Saviour and Lord.

May all who suffer today be rainbowed. May they all sense the loving presence of the Father and trust that ‘God acts on behalf of those who wait for him.’ May we look forward with hope and joy, appreciating the daily blessings which are all around.

The rainbow has been erased from the sky now but I carry it in my heart.

Weeds in the Garden

I’ve heard it said that a weed is a plant or flower growing wherever it isn’t wanted. But we’ve had lots of beautiful plants over the years growing where they weren’t wanted. They weren’t weeds, so we moved them. 

Some survived. Some didn’t. The peony bloomed beautifully this year in its new location. The gooseberries keep producing fruit despite all lack of care and attention, having been moved from a fertile garden to what is essentially the grass verge.

There are a lot of ugly situations in this world, and sometimes in the midst of devastation a flower springs up. Look at the poppies on the WWI battlefields.

There are indeed true weeds, pernicious things like ground elder and nettles which can get hold and be a challenge to eradicate. They can get a stranglehold on genuine flowers and smother the tender plants you struggle to cultivate. They can leach nutrients from the soil and leave plants limp and withering.

Important to examine the inner garden of the heart, to check if any pernicious weeds have been allowed to take hold, to see if any fragrant flowers are in danger of withering for want of nurture. Good to do that with a Bible and time with the Lord. Good to do it with a prayer partner or a soul mate. Good to do it regularly, especially in a toxic climate.

Framed

I sit surrounded by stunning pictures which I want to frame and hang. One was purchased on our 40^th anniversary celebration trip to Russia last September, a painting of the Church on the Spilled Blood in St Petersburg signed by the painter. 

One is a photograph of a vibrant sunset sky behind Mission Santa Barbara in California, with a bare cross silhouetted in the foreground.

Another is a peaceful photo of small yachts at rest in Morro Bay, California, with the massive rock looming behind them like the head of a giant leviathan emerging from the still waters. Both of these pictures were purchased at an art show I went to with my mother and my daughter along the beach at Santa Barbara in March.

And finally I have an envelope of beautiful pictures of our lovely granddaughter and her parents (also lovely!!), taken by a professional photographer.

All of them I want to frame, but having spent awhile online I realise that the frames are more expensive than the wonderful items I want to highlight. And yet the subjects of each painting – or the memories associated with them – are infinitely more valuable to me.

When God chose David to be the next king of Judah, he told Samuel that man sees the outer person but God looks at the heart. 

The heart is where the gold lies. As I head into a new week, I aim to look for and draw out the gold in every person I meet, and not be distracted by outer frameworks like position or status or beauty or wealth.

Challenging Times

‘In this world you will have trouble,’ Jesus told his friends, ‘but take heart, I have overcome the world.’

You start the new year full of hope and even vague expectation that it is going to be great. Of course it’s just another month but there is something cathartic about taking down the old calendar (if you’re like me and not yet sold on the advantages of linked up Google diaries) and putting up the new.

It’s a clean slate. Anything could happen. You’ve identified those things which tripped you up last year. You’ve declared you won’t let that happen again. So, there should be no problem with getting on with a new vision, realizing a new (or even an old but as yet unfulfilled) dream.

And then the new year starts. And if yours is anything like mine, already there have been a few glitches. Only three days into it and we’ve had a sickness bug, a problem at work, a dog who looked like she was on her last legs and then, miraculously, has picked up again. And I just don’t seem to be getting on with anything much. Keep getting distracted and then having another cup of coffee. Or reading a newspaper. Or eating a sugar cookie.

Well, I don’t know about you but I am so grateful that Jesus has overcome the world, and that as big as some problems seem, as yucky and unpalatable as some are, he is still with me. He is still whispering into my heart words of encouragement, words of love. He hasn’t stopped believing in me and wanting to help me to realize some of those dreams.

And he’s whispering those words of encouragement into your heart, too. So take time to listen. I’m about to slip into my prayer alcove and shut out the world. Because in it, we will have trouble.

Thank God for Jesus.