Hard as Granite

Today I parked in a lot I don’t usually use in Aberdeen. It meant that I had the pleasure of walking past the beautiful Marischal college, reputedly the second-largest granite building in the world. It has had a face-wash in the last few years, and the apron in front has been paved and turned into a mostly-pedestrian only zone.

As I returned to my car, I paused to enjoy the beauty of this 19^th century building. Yes, grey granite, but glinting in the light, its intricate towers gleaming and beautiful.

I thank God for craftsmen and women who can transform hard stone into a thing of beauty.

I thank God for Jesus, who transforms hard hearts into soft, compassionate ones. Praying he works to soften hearts as Americans go to the polls tomorrow.

Thank God for Easter

As yesterday’s early morning walk behind the cross drew near the church, those carrying the cross strode out of sight, followed by a few swift followers. The rest of us were ‘stuck’ behind a ‘bottle-neck’ formed by one old man with his cane, and his companions. 

Nobody overtook them. We knew where we were headed, so we kept company with those who were finding the way difficult.

Sometimes on our life’s journey we feel like we’ve lost sight of Jesus, lost sight of his cross. But he has left us map points by which to plot our course, guidelines in Scripture by which to live, and it’s as we continue to walk in faith that his cross comes back into view. It’s right that we adopt the pace of the slowest in our party, so that we can all arrive together. There are no prizes for the sprinter in the Kingdom but I think Jesus loves the marathon runners who slow their pace at times to accompany others who struggle along the way.

Jesus walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, as they struggled with Easter weekend events. He walks with each of us as we struggle to make sense of our circumstances, and the situations in the wider world.

Thank God for Easter.

Support

The clematis needs support. It needs a trellis, screwed onto the wall above the dining room window,  to entwine itself into, because otherwise it flops down, leaving the dining room in darkness. 

Now, in the autumn of the year, it flops even more hopelessly as its leaves droop and drop. That will, of course, allow more light in, but we are entering the dark phase of the year when light is short and night is long.

For some reason this all reminds me of the church. We all need support. We need other believers to entwine our lives together, encouraging and maybe sometimes even carrying each other as we walk each other home. 

Without that support, the light that is within us is dimmed by the trials of the world. Without that support, the light that we crave is shrouded and obscured. 

Jesus said to keep our lights visible. The light of Christ shining out of each of us, when we entwine our lives together, gives light in a dark world and fosters hope in dark days.

I thank God for the vibrant church of which I am a member. Support is never lacking, and the light shines bright.

Walk on the Wild Side

We have been away for the weekend. We went south to a family wedding. 

We rented a very comfortable cottage on the island where all the celebrations were going on, sharing the house with Don's brother, sister and brother-in-law. There was the seaside atmosphere of a place the family used to own on the west coast of Scotland, with the same convivial family times, shared meals, good fish to eat and wine to wash it down. 

We were there for three days, and as we head back north now, I am reflecting on the fact that I only opened my Bible twice, never prayed with Don, missed church, and didn't say grace before meals. We slipped into the routines of those around us, those with whom Don grew up, and who don't share our faith.

It has made me think of the descriptions in the Bible about who we are...that we have been grafted in to the true vine, which is Jesus. I grow roses at home, and I know it doesn't take long for cultivated roses to revert to their wild state. Seven leaves instead of five. Different flowers. The grafting-in can revert to wildness.

I am the vine, Jesus said. You are the branches. Grafted in. If we don't stay in him, we revert to our default mode, our natural, wild state.

It takes thought and effort to remain grafted in. We can't assume anything. We can't presume to remain in Christ if we make no effort to remain in him, through building up our relationship with him in Bible reading and prayer.

I remember what I was like before I was grafted in. I remember the sense of emptiness and sometimes hopelessness. 

I don't want to go back there again. I want to remain grafted in. 

Glad to be heading north now, back to my own routine, my own wee prayer window. My routine walks with Dusty, which draw my thoughts to God. 

But I wonder, how long will it take before my default mode will always be with face turned upwards in worship, no matter the circumstances.

Of course I did pray. I did thank God for the food silently before I ate. I did pray for people and situations that I know of right now. So maybe I didn't so much revert to wild, to seven leaves, as just express my faith in a different way. Or am I just kidding myself?

Hmm.