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Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 January 2020

Steeped or marinated?


One of our wedding gifts was a tea cosy from Hong Kong, where friends lived at the time. In those days, few folk used tea bags in a mug. Most people I knew used loose tea in a pot, and the cosy kept it hot as it steeped.

Steeping made it strong.

When we were raising our rather big family, I normally bought the cheaper cuts of meat. They were cheaper because they were tough, and needed marinating.

Marinating made it tender.

As I steep my mind in the truth of God as revealed in the Bible, I am strengthened to stand against the injustices all around me. I am strengthened to step forward and speak out about global and national injustices, and I am strengthened to stand with those I know who are suffering injustice.

As I marinate my heart in Jesus, in worship and in prayer, I gain God’s compassion and love. I can speak out, then, from a place of love, trusting God to work through me to soften the hearts of others and right the injustices.

Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act. Psalm 37.

Sometimes he chooses to act through us.


Monday, 1 May 2017

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.

Tuesday, 7 October 2014

Intimacy and Joy



I look out the window in my prayer alcove and see the grey mist draped like a curtain over the land, obscuring the landmarks and shrinking my world. This is not a day for vision but a day for detail, a day for small things. Don’t despise the day of small things, the Bible advises. 

A day for detail and intimacy. Intimacy with my environment, with my activities, with my Lord. This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it. It is a decision rather than an emotion.

Without vision a people perish, we know, but the vision has to be accomplished in a thousand details.
How often I complain about a day like today! Shame on me. Without days like today, I might dream a million dreams and see thousands of possibilities but never actually accomplish anything. 

So, I will pay attention to the detail. Some of the detail which I enjoy. Some of the detail I just have to do. This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice. Not grit my teeth and get through it, but rejoice and be glad in it.

Thank you Lord, that I can do all things through him who gives me strength.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

The stark beauty of scores of years


The Hill of Fare has disappeared behind damp drapery. In the foreground, trees denuded for winter twist their frames skyward, and for the first time I notice how graceful and strong many of those frameworks appear. 

I prefer the early frill of spring buds and new leaves. I love the lushness of summer foliage. I drink in the beauty of the autumn, leaves glorious and vibrant before falling to the ground to moulder and decay, leaving those bare branches stark against the sky. I’ve left it at that before. Endure the monochrome of winter before the sun begins to linger longer and tease the sap to rise, the leaves to bud.

But this morning was different. Shades of grey, black, brown and white – oh, and a very dark green – blend in a cold symphony of colourless tones. Cold, and yet breath-taking. Colourless, and yet there is richness and depth there, too. And the tangle of branches, usually hidden but now laid bare.

I appreciated the grace and strength of those branches reaching heavenwards. Three seasons out of four I am unaware of that grace and strength. 

In our youth-oriented culture, we are encouraged to appreciate the beauty of the three seasons of life which are full of colour, energy and vitality. And yet, what beauty there is in the old gnarled hand, which has worked and served for a few score years. What strength there is in the sinewy body, now reduced to a slow step aided by a cane, but which once brought pleasure and help to others. What wisdom and love are etched in each wrinkle on a wizened face.

Set off against the damp drapery, the strength of the stark trees was unmistakable. Do we fail to appreciate the beauty of age because we compare it to the beauty of youth, instead of appreciating it against the canvas of eternity? Many of our elderly friends will soon disappear behind that damp drapery into a wonderful eternal life, which remains hidden from view to us below.

May I encourage and love every older person I meet from now on, and learn life from one who has walked ahead of me.