Freedom

Dog walking today. My friend was here with her dog; I of course knew a suitable walk, which I hadn’t done with a four-legged friend for six months or more. So off we went.

Maya is a puppy, a great big bear of a cuddly giggle, a totally different personality from either of the dogs I’ve owned and walked here. She bounced and bounded a few feet and then checked out where ‘mum’ was, to make sure she was still there. Both Dusty and Magic were explorers, more than happy to run ahead and then reach that distance where they seemed to rocket into hyperspace and Dusty would then disappear into the woods for up to ten hours, returning when exhausted, tail between her legs to show contrition but a bit of a wag to confirm that yes, it had been fab.

Freedom. Maya is content to have her freedom limited by maintaining proximity to her owner. She will grow up and bloom and blossom in that dependent relationship and sense a safety and a freedom in it. My two dogs longed to run and run and run, oblivious to my whistles and shouts, and return when it suited them. They would come back dirty and dishevelled, often stinking of dirty ditch water, sometimes carrying ticks and thorns and developing internal worms later from the decaying carrion they may have crunched down.

Jesus said to his friends that if they remained faithful to his teaching, then they would know the truth and the truth would set them free.

It’s not always easy to remain faithful to God’s teaching. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of something which entices us away. There is a whiff of something which tantalises and tempts us to go into territory which we know is out of God’s bounds for us. His bounds are there to protect us and somehow within those bounds, we are free to become all that he has created us to be. 

When we stray from the way Jesus has set for us, in those moments of rebellion we realize that paradoxically, by striking out on our own we have forfeited our freedom. We are likely to pick up ticks and thorns and worms. Yuck.

It’s as we walk on the path, as we remain faithful to Jesus’ teaching, that the truth is revealed to us and we recognise what true freedom really is.

Jesus said I am the way and the truth and the life. Follow me. Sticking with me along the way, you will discover absolute freedom. 

The only way to test this out is just to do it.

Thunder I couldn't miss

It was forecast – but then the forecast is so frequently wrong. We went to bed last night and left the telephones and computer plugged in. 

Four a.m. and I found myself aware of rolling thunder rumbling in the distance. It didn’t stay in the distance for long, though, and Don and I soon pinged out of bed and were scampering round the house pulling plugs. We’ve been burned too many times – or rather, our motherboard has, and our telephones. The situation could have soon deteriorated into farce of the Fawlty Towers variety, as we have some B&B guests in at the moment who might have been surprised to encounter either of us at that time of morning. You have to laugh.

Natural phenomena are a good reality check when we start to take ourselves and our anxieties too seriously. They remind us of our own smallness, our own insignificance and our own powerlessness. We may try to minimise our vulnerability to nature’s wrath but in the end there is really no escape. It’s still raining this morning, but I can see a break in the clouds. 

God uses all sorts of things to bring us back to himself, to break into our circularly selfish thought patterns and remind us of who he is, and who we are.  In a book in the Old Testament, Hosea, God promises that he will ‘lead Israel into the desert and speak tenderly to her there’. (Hosea 2:14) 

I’ve been led into that desert in the past. My life choices weren’t great, and eventually I found myself in a desert, where homesickness and loneliness were overwhelming. But in that desert, I finally heard God’s tender voice speaking to me. 

He may speak in a clap of thunder, or he may speak words into a quiet heart, but the truth is that God does speak, and his words are loving and tender, calling us home to him.

It’s amazing.