New Life

A blanket of black, slimy leaves lies on the flower bed, covering what lies beneath. Tangled with the leaves are limp stalks of last year’s flowers, spotted with decay, broken and dead.

The weather yesterday was spring-like, so when I got a few moments, I wheeled the barrow beside the flower bed and clipped away the stringy stalks, scooped up the dead leaves. As I worked, I uncovered the shoots of new life. I stepped gingerly on the ground in order to reach the back, wary of wounding any of the tender daffodils, crocus and snowdrops breaking through the earth.

These onion-like bulbs lie brown and dormant most of the year, but time and season are beginning to draw them out of hibernation. From what seemed dead, new life is sprouting. Fed, protected even, by what lay above for the last few months.

The miracle of life. God’s gracious gift to us all. May he use that which is dead in us to feed new shoots of hope and faith. He is good. He is faithful. He is at our right hand. He will not leave nor condemn. May I – may you – focus on him. His ways are not my ways, but his ways are right. May I humble myself before him, and follow, repentant and forgiven, rejoicing in the one who made me, who died for me, who lives in me. Without him, there is no life.

May he use my failures, use my disappointments, use my hurts to make more room within me for his Spirit to live. May my brokenness reveal his light. May his joy be my strength, today and every day.

Jesus, all for Jesus. All I have and am, and evermore will be.

Joy of Grandmothering

Oh, the joys of grand-mothering! Last week I could be found gathering up the ‘green rice’ from a newly cut lawn to make ‘green rice pie’. Yesterday I was outside in trench coat and clown hat, binoculars round my neck, as we became ‘spy-ers’ looking for clues. About all we found was a dead mouse who drowned in a drain, and a mini-caterpillar.

Jesus said that unless we become like children we will never enter his Kingdom. There are many serious thoughts to be drawn from that, about faith and hope and trust, but surely Jesus, who enjoyed a good dinner party, also referred to the unbridled imagination of a child. No boundaries, where everything is possible, and where the sole purpose of life at a given moment is joy.

I am so grateful for grandchildren who remind me how to play, just for the fun of it.

In Jesus kingdom, there are no boundaries, and everything is possible.

Glass Terrarium

I’ve had a glass terrarium for 45 years, but never planted and hung it in the conservatory until this summer. As nasturtiums snake up round the chain, growing before our eyes, lobelia and geraniums cascade out of the openings.

We’ve noticed how quickly the soil dries out. In fact, it is often so dry when I water, that the water puddles and pools and then gushes out the openings to drip onto the geranium below. Nothing soaks down to the roots unless I slowly drip it onto the hard soil.

I’ve been thinking about joy. A tender emotion, it can quickly dry up and crust over, especially with global situations as they are just now. Chasing happiness, confusing it with joy, doesn’t reach the root of the issue. Happiness is transient and fleeting, where joy bubbles up from within.

Spending time with the Lord – maybe in nature, on holiday, or in the garden or even prayer window – is like slowly dripping water onto parched soil. It has time to percolate down and reach the roots which are dry and thirsty. The joy of the Lord is our strength.

And then the growth and flowers come.

Discarded stuff in the garden

Continuing with yesterday’s thought. Worship is the gate into God’s garden. The worship at Cherish took me into his presence, where there is fullness of joy. Joy was the characteristic I felt most lacking in me. My jar was nearly empty. I was moving forward, trusting and walking in faith, but without that spark of joy that lights up a room, that lights up a life, that spreads the love of Jesus.

He filled my jar. When I left his garden on Saturday night, I left my stuff scattered at random. A bucket full of worries about my Mom. Another bucket of family concerns. A watering can tipped over and draining hopelessness for the nations of the world, hopelessness for the environment. A discarded pot of anxieties about the future.

I left those in my Father’s garden. He is picking them up. He is tidying them away. He is the Prince of Peace. He is the answer to all concerns.

My face is 8 inches from my Father’s face, and I am focused on him. Eight inches is as far as a new-born baby’s eyes can focus – eight inches from breast to mum’s face. As I feed on the Father, I focus on his face, and I receive his grace, his strength, his love.

What’s not to celebrate?

A Grinning God

Pulling out a Bible buried underneath other reading material in the prayer window, I discovered Thomas the Tank Engine and a toy caravan, neatly parked away. What is for me a place of quiet contemplation is for my grandkids a place of play and fun.

Jesus was accused by his enemies of being a party guy, eating and drinking with some disreputable characters. He was building the Kingdom of God, though, bringing the joy and light of God into all sorts of places, including those which others thought of as places of reverence and quiet contemplation, or places of disrepute.

When I watch a nature programme and see the wild, glorious diversity in creation – from weird and wonderful creepy crawlies (best seen on a screen) to breath-taking waterfalls and plants – I know that the Creator of such spectacular things rejoices in colour and texture and variety. I am sure that when he sat back on that seventh day and saw that all that he had made was good, he grinned and laughed with pleasure.

The Joy of Children

‘For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord.’ Because he is a good, good God, his plans are great.

Looking back through old photos last night. Reliving the years of joy from raising four beautiful kids. The fun of pirate parties. The thrill of West Coast sails… The summers at Tarbert. The Christmas mornings and the new babies, puppies, kittens.

It went by so fast. In a blur. We took one step at a time, living day by day, and all the time, God knew the plans he had for these four wonderful babies he’d entrusted to us. Praise him that he was always there, during good times and challenging ones, and that despite us, and because of him, these kids grew up to be world-changers.

Such a privilege to raise children.

And now we have the fun of interacting with their children. Feeling like we have more time to be intentional in how we interact, and perhaps more of a positive influence. And yet, knowing that our clumsy efforts and words can often get in the way of something better.

Still grateful that God knows the plans he has for these little ones. That they are destined to be world-changers. Such a privilege to be their grandparents. Such a joy.

Bolshoi

Two years ago we had the joy of going to the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow and watching Swan Lake. I was just remembering the consummate skill and artistry of the talented troupe of dancers. We had balcony seats, which afforded us a good view of the stage, and despite incredible contortions and lengthy poses, we never saw a wobble. Nobody lost his or her balance. The beauty of the ballet was breath-taking. Every dancer was a star.

I want to be a star in whatever I do today. Pressures come from unexpected sources, threatening to cause me to wobble. Just when I think I’ve got that pirouette down perfectly, a need or an anxiety or an ache hits me and can unbalance me if I’m not careful. How to respond to interruptions with grace and confidence: life is a challenge. So is dancing Swan Lake, I’m sure. 

What I need today is a divine dancing partner. What a blessing that he’s always there, never leaving my side, guiding my moves and helping me maintain balance. May the God of peace enable you to twirl through the day, bringing joy to others and filling your own soul with joy.

Recycled

The unalloyed joy on a baby’s face, as he sees his mummy or daddy again after a few days’ absence, is just beautiful. He recognises someone who loves him, who looks after him and plays with him and comforts him when he needs it. 

God the Father doesn’t take work-trips or holidays. He is always with us: one of his promises repeated frequently in the Bible. But because he isn’t a physical presence in our lives, it is easy to begin living independently and not recognise he’s there. It’s easy to imagine that we can ‘do life’ independently. 

Nearly forty years ago now, I was pretty much lost in a life choice which was both wonderful but also required a big self-sacrifice. After a couple of years trying to go it alone, struggling to adjust, I was in danger of being sucked under into full-blown depression.  Then I was born again. I was like a baby who suddenly sees his father. The Father hadn’t ever left me, but in my own self-sufficient arrogance I’d been trying to go it alone. The Holy Spirit in me acted like a lightning rod drawing in God’s love and grounding it deep inside, changing me forever. The joy was just like that of a baby, unalloyed, spontaneous, total. I was, and am, so grateful, knowing I couldn’t have done it myself. I was a helpless baby, and finally as I cried out in my heart for help, God came. And I recognised him. 

The joy of the Lord is your strength, the Bible says. There is so much junk in the world, stirring anxiety and fear; there are challenges and obstacles ready to overshadow us and obscure the light and steal our joy. 

I read that plastic can be recycled into road paving, re-using something which will never degrade and also relieving the dependence on petroleum. It made me think of the junk in our lives, all the stuff that has gone on which was unhelpful, even terrible, and which can never go away. God is the great creator, and he can gather up all that junk, like plastic, and use it in our lives for good, in ways we can never imagine. All that hurt and pain that so hinders can be recycled into positive products which can be put to good use in our own or in other peoples’ lives.

God’s presence restores the joy. Placing ourselves in positions where we can recognise and receive from him, where we can be reminded of his unconditional love for each one of us, refreshes our souls. 

May you make time today to marinate in Jesus, who came to give us fullness of life and who loves us beyond anything we can ask or imagine. Such a gift. Such a saviour.

Turn Around

We watched as a long HGV somehow made the tight corner down the unpaved, rutted track that leads to the back of beyond. After awhile, we watched it re-emerge: somehow it must have turned on the cattle tracks. It headed past our house and on down the narrow, paved road. 

A skilful driver doing something I would have thought impossible. 

We all make mistakes. Take wrong turns. Struggle to return to the best way for us to go. Maybe even despair that we can never get back.

‘Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.’

He can help turn us around. That is the better way. A way that offers joy and peace and hope.

Gifts

Some people excel at gift-giving; they seem to have a knack for choosing just the right thing. Some cultures encourage generous giving to the point of self-denial. If you express admiration for someone’s tie or scarf, they immediately take it off and insist on giving it to you.

It can be challenging to know how to respond. Indebted? Embarrassed? Most gift-givers, though, are content to see the joy the gift brings the recipient. More blessed to give than to receive, Jesus said.

God is just such a gift-giver. He excels at tailoring the gift to the recipient. 

It can be challenging to know how to respond. We can feel inadequate. We can sense that the gift comes with responsibilities we can’t or don’t want to shoulder. We can feel we don’t deserve it.

But I think that God gives gifts like he gives his love – unconditionally. He enjoys watching our delight and joy as we receive from him.

God’s gifts are perfect. They inspire gratitude and joy. These are four of the best gifts I have ever been given. God excelled himself when he entrusted these four into our care.

They all inspire gratitude and joy, not just in us, but in others, too. God is so good.

The world waits...

Outside in a bucket of water, our Christmas tree waits. Swaddled in plastic netting, the green branches will probably need awhile to open out once we unwrap it.

In many windows, already the coloured lights twinkle and wink, tinsel shines and baubles bob. Still we wait.

Anticipation rises as we look forward to welcoming Mhairi home for Christmas. She flies in through Iceland on Wednesday. A new route, booked at the last minute: we’re all excited to have her here for the holidays.

Joy to the world. The Lord has come...is coming again. He is here, but he will be here in glory one day. He will reign. Peace will prevail.

Still the world waits. Waiting is hard. 

Joy. It isn’t unalloyed happiness but rather a deep well of hope, sure and certain hope, that however the world looks today, however my circumstances look and however much I am grieving or lonely, I know that this is not all there is. 

Soon we will unswaddle the Christmas tree and decorate it, hearts full of joy and sorrow in equal measure, but the joy is everlasting, the sorrow is here for a night.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. He is faithful.