Garbage

Yesterday we changed the compost heap, opening up the black plastic cover to reveal rich organic material to dig into the garden. It had mouldered away under the plastic for a year or so. Now the plastic covers the newer vegetable matter and in another year or so it will have transformed into a rich fertiliser for the soil.

As we uncovered the compost, we discovered the winter hideout of the snails and slugs which devastate the garden every year. Without remorse we sent them to their maker, wondering why in the world he ever made them? Also sheltering there, feeding off the rotting compost, was a nest of mice. Two tiny babies squeaked their alarm at being discovered. No mother in sight. We transferred them onto the grass embankment, but I’m afraid the cats did the rest.

I’m thinking about how much of my time can be spent feeding on garbage. I’m not much of a tv-watcher nor do I read a lot of stuff on-line, but I can let thoughts churn round in my mind. I can be pre-occupied with disturbing thoughts which go nowhere but in circles. Philippians 4, in a newer translation, says, ‘Do not be preoccupied about anything, but let the things you ask for be pointed out to God by means of prayer and earnest requests with gratitude. And the peace of God, which conquers all processes of thinking, will keep watch over your minds and what you think about by means of the Anointed One Jesus.’ 

I don’t want to feed on garbage. I want to feed on God. I see the prescription for how to do this, in the advice in Philippians. So I am crying out to God today to help me to put this word into action in my inner being today. I am grateful that this is something he can, and wants, to do.

Peace today, then, as I surrender to God’s love. Peace to you, too.

Yesterday

Yesterday afternoon, the skies opened and shot bullets of torrential rain at us. Monsoon-style. Shortly afterwards, the sun shone again and the ground began to steam. It steamed and steamed until there was an eerie fogginess shrouding the world in mist as darkness fell around 9 pm. 

An hour later, a mighty army of (sorry to mention this Chrisie) snails and slugs had slithered out of their green bunkers and moved en masse across the path and on up the wall of the house. 

This morning, dewdrops (or left-over raindrops?) clung beautifully to the spider webs whose numbers always amaze me. Stretched between prickly gorse branches, filling spaces between the ripening brambles, reaching between rowan leaves showing the faintest hint of autumn colours: I love the webs but you can keep the spiders.

The skies have cleared, the sun is shining bright and warm and we are enjoying another summer day – though the drenched lawn tells a story of yesterday’s deluge.

Whatever hits us in life, has consequences. Some are exquisite, some are curious, some are out of a horror movie. When you’ve built your life on a rock, though, you can be assured that whatever problems assail you, Jesus never leaves you. He is always there, loving you, whispering words of guidance or condolence or encouragement or laughing with you.

A crutch? Never. A friend and a powerful Lord worthy of love and praise.