Virtual Church

All over the world, we believers congregate virtually, tuning in on YouTube or Zoom, Skype or something else. Some of it is chaotic. Confusing even. We’re not all techno marvels but it was wonderful this morning to connect, to see the smiles of faith family who we love so much and miss.

Having missed the link to the worship before the service, we worshiped in song after. It was so moving and powerful. I sensed that Church is on the move. Together we are moving forward following the light. What was on either side was unclear. Where we were headed was not visible. But the path was alight and we were on it, moving together, as one, making music in our hearts as we praised and loved the Lord with our voices, with our spirits.

So many green shoots are appearing. We just need to keep vigilant and keep moving. We follow the God of hope. We are filled with the spirit of love and power and life. We lift Jesus up, our Saviour and King.

Have a wonderful Sunday.

Wait-Wait

Wait-wait on the Lord, the psalmist encourages. So I wait-waited in my prayer window, lingering long, asking for a word, asking God to guide my prayers. They circumnavigated the globe and then when I checked a message on Messenger, it was a series of amazing Gospel singers, one after the other, singing the well-known spiritual, He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.

Of course he does. Of course we know that. But it was so encouraging to hear it sung with conviction and grace and beauty.

I saw, in my imagination, a root. A root which stretched underground, out of sight, but which was sprouting along its length. Sprouting new green shoots, shoots reaching through the darkness to the light.

May this time of fear and darkness be shot through with rays of brilliant light, Jesus. May this light draw many out of the darkness as they search for meaning and comfort. May we be bearers of hope and faith in the goodness of God, as we email, text and talk on the phone to our family, friends and neighbours.

We all have time now to wait-wait on the Lord. He is waiting patiently for each of us to draw near.

Light, Stillness, Simplicity and Hope

The light shines in the darkness. The darkness has not overcome it. At this darkest time of year, I light a candle.

Be still and know that I am God. Be still and know. At this busiest time of year, I choose to take time, to be still, and to know.

The stripped-down simplicity of the first Christmas. Bare. At this glitziest time of year, I focus on the natural simplicity of this supernatural event.

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. At this time of worldly crisis and despair, I receive the joy and peace of Jesus, trusting in him and overflowing with hope which is based on the faithfulness of our loving Lord.

A Monochrome world

It’s a monochrome world out there. Or should I say sepia? Brown reeds rise above the icing sugar white powdering the marshy field outside my window. The sky is white; most of the ground is white; and from time to time, the air itself is white as a sharp east wind blows new snow and old, picking up what already lies like hills of flour and shifting it into drifts blocking the driveway.

We went for a walk, trudging through knee deep drifts in places, skating across bare patches, too. A tractor left its tracks down the lane and we speculated: surely there are no cows out in these arctic conditions? But yes, there are, clustering forlornly in the patchy shelter of gorse and trees lining the fence of the field. I took a picture, but our internet is as sluggish as molasses in January and so I hold no hopes of actually uploading it to my blog post. You’ll have to take my word for it. The cows and their calves, some quite small, look miserable.

Now, though, despite the white sky, air, and ground, the sun has broken through, lightening the view. Sometimes life itself can feel sluggish, monochrome or sepia, until the light shines through a friend or acquaintance, a word or the Word, instilling hope and installing peace deep inside.

Shalom.

Terra Infirma

Recently it was explained to me that the earth’s crust undulates, pulled this way and that by pressures exerted on it. Contrary to my assumption that terra firma really was terra firma (apart from tectonic plate shifts causing earthquakes), it seems it is terra in-firma. Changing all the time, sometimes subtly shifting, sometimes spectacularly shaking. Not, then, to be fully trusted. 

I hear the news, and my emotions are pulled this way and that. I find tears come readily when I hear stories of Syria. My heart bleeds when I hear of another mass shooting in a school in the US, and the response of some people in power. My heart breaks when I see a picture of the face of a shell-shocked Marine during the Vietnam War. My generation. And then my spirit soars when I celebrate a family birthday, when I play goofy games with a three-year-old precious granddaughter, or build blocks with a couple of one-year-old grandsons. My heart swells when my kids get involved in making this a better world through lobbying, through praying, through helping the poor, through loving in spite of everything. 

Jesus said to be alert to the signs of the times. Perhaps every generation since Jesus has seen the wars and atrocities, the violence and abuse and injustice, and reckoned the end was coming soon. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn’t. 

My job today isn’t to worry about what’s happening tomorrow, but to love without ceasing, drawing on the Spirit to inspire and fuel that love. To walk in the Light, towards the light, shattering the darkness and bringing reconciliation. As He enables me, I can speak shalom.

Perhaps the world is terra infirma, but God isn’t. He is faithful, and he is love. And he never changes.

What is truth?

A dark winter’s day gives an excuse to light the stub of a Christmas candle, which flickers beside me as I write. Artificial light brings cheer and a cosy feeling: lighting a fire adds warmth. Makes me want to snuggle down with a good book and get lost in a story.

 

Nothing wrong with that. But.

When I am ‘home’ with Mom in southern California, even in November or March, the sun is up by 6 and so am I, eager to embrace all that the day offers. There’s something about natural light, the real thing, that inspires and encourages activity. There’s a clarity; there’s an energy.

I’ve been reading a lot about ‘fake news’, a label which, when bandied about by politicians we want to trust, eventually undermines our confidence and causes us to question the truth of any news story. There were an inordinate number of shenanigans during the last presidential election in the USA, many of them originating in a foreign country, and most of them aimed at disseminating fake news while calling into question things that were true. The electorate was confused; the candidates were confused:  What news contained the truth?

Pilate looked at Jesus, the light of the world, and asked pitifully, ‘What is truth?’ 

A cry that echoes down the centuries and reverberates loudly in the 21^st century. What is truth? He is alive and well and living in his followers. Time to let the light shine, because the darkness is certainly deep.

Let it shine!

Driving on a winter’s night in Scotland can be awesome. I avoid that over-used word but sometimes it is warranted. Saturday night was clear and cold. Orion could be easily identified amongst the other constellations, and a half moon shone down on the twinkling frostiness below. 

Arriving home at the ‘hillock, the only sounds to be heard were the occasional calls of owls in the woods beyond the fields. No light pollution nearby, the stars stretched from one horizon to the other.

Night seems to be falling on our world, but rather than focus on the darkness, I want to focus on the light. ‘In Jesus was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’ 

Despite the pollution oozing everywhere, the light can still be seen. I see it in my friends and family and strangers. I saw it in church yesterday, breaking in through the worship, through the preaching, through the communion. Light in the darkness.

Let there be light, God commanded in the beginning. In the words of the children’s song, ‘This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.’ Like the moon: reflecting the light of the sun. May we all reflect the light of the Son.

Let it shine.

Quality of light

Just watched Mhairi mime sunshine streaming through her window (in southern California), so thought I’d take a photo of the sunshine struggling through my window (in northeastern Scotland). Both are beautiful, with different qualities. 

I have also just listened to the inspirational Dr Martin Luther King Jr deliver a stirring talk on love and its power to overcome every evil thing. He talked of Nicodemus’ encounter with Jesus at night, when Jesus counselled him to be ‘born again’. Dr King extended the advice to America itself, suggesting that the USA needed to be ‘born again’, to have a whole new structure of equality and opportunity for all based in love.

How we need to hear these words today, not just in America but worldwide.

Dr King’s words bring light streaming through the darkness, perhaps in the way Mhairi is experiencing the strong sunshine of southern California. May the words of my mouth and keyboard today allow the sunshine to struggle through and bring encouragement and inspiration to others. 

I took time to clean that window on Saturday, so now I can focus on what lies outside and not be distracted by the smudges and film of grime filtering the view. It takes a little time to clean up my actions and attitudes before the light can pass through unhindered, so that others can focus on the light and not on the messed-up life of the light-bearer.

This is the day the Lord has given. A bit of effort from me, so that Jesus’ light can shine through. God bless your day.