Hey everyone, sorry for the delay. Life got a bit busy again, not that that is any excuse. I really need to be more disciplined in my posting. Anyway, I'm just going to launch straight into this part, if you need a refresher, the links are at the bottom.
So, the third factor that I am convinced was at play that week was: Life Lessons 101 with God.
Yeah, God was teaching me, working to bring me more in line with who He created me to be. More in line with Christ.
The friend I was speaking to about all this essentially said that sometimes God uses our feelings of uselessness and our knowledge of our own failures to show us that He doesn't need us for His work to be done. To rephrase slightly: His power and work is not defined by or limited to what we do and do not do (forget can and can not do - I know I certainly don't often do what I can do). Nor does He need us, that is, me to do His work.;
If that offends you, I don't apologise. Honestly, in some ways, in offends my sensibilities too. But it's true.
He simply does not need us.
He is more than powerful enough to do His work without us.
In fact, looking at the church as a whole throughout history and my own life, I would even say that the majority of the time, what do is more of a hindrance and a help. God's work often happens in spite of me, and us, not because of us.
If one of you readers tries to tell me you've never put your foot in it while trying to represent the Kingdom of Heaven and emulate Christ, I would immediately say that you're either deluded and need to re-evaluate your life, or you're Christ Himself. My money, of course, is on the former.
So, on with the lesson I was being taught.
This makes more sense in the context of my frame of mind before beach mission.
To put it bluntly, my frame of mind was one of arrogance. What expression my arrogance took varied depending on where I was, who I was with, what was happening, and what mood I was in.
Sometimes, my arrogance predicted that nothing would happen at all on beach mission. That the whole venture would be a "show that flopped".
I could (and I will, despite the way my insides squirm) phrase it this way: my arrogance sometimes led me to predict that God would fail us on beach mission.
Is anyone else's heresy bells ringing like crazy? Mine certainly are. God fail us?
Phrased like that, only 2 words come to mind: the cross.
So easy in retrospect. But, embarrassingly, that is the truth of one of the ways my arrogance was expressed. And, most shamefully, will be expressed in the future.
The second expression of this arrogance was my daydreams of me somehow managing to stride above everyone else as I dazzled everyone I met with the grace, poise and God-centredness of my life. How could people not want to know this God who gave me such grace and strength?
Yeah... that's ridiculous (and yes, I did just gag with disgust at myself). Have you ever met me? Grace and poise? More like tongue-tied klutz.
But, far more glaringly, is the fact that really, it was all about me.
Sure, my intention was to point people to Christ, but the reality would have been, and is, self-glorifying. And the dream? Well, it was all focued on me and how I would be used to advance HIs Kingdom.
No one gets much more arrogant than that.
The words of Paul drift across my mind: "sinners, of whom I am the worst." Which, you know, is why I am so grateful for grace.
During the week of beach mission, God deftly took my sin and the attacks of the Devil (ok... He probably didn't take them, He allowed them for this purpose) and taught me this: He does not need me.
He just does not need me.
Neither of the visions I had regarding beach mission happened.
He showed me, through my own failure and uselessness that His work, power and grace would astound minds and transform lives, and that I was not needed for that to happen.
He showed me that it was only by His grace that I had any part to play at all. Any lives and hearts that I touched weren't because of any gifting I had, or any design of my own, but because God graciously decided to include my floundering attempts in His plan for someone's life.
And, I know, my arrogance is going to resurface. As will my selfishness, my comparisons between myself and others, and my coveting. It's all going to come back. It's going to taunt me my whole life long.
But here's the thing, I also know that as far as God is concerned, that part of me, my sinful nature, is dead. He sees only His purified daughter. And, for as long as I stuff up (AKA my entire life), God will work to touch people, not through my strengths, not even my weaknesses, but His grace acting in my life - even when I can't see it.
I am not needed, but I am allowed to play a part. Because God is good and gracious and glorious.
Now, you have my promise that tomorrow, I will post the last part of this tomorrow.
In the meantime, here are the other parts:
Heavenly Father, I cannot, but You Can (part 1 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 2 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 4 of 4)
Sunday, 16 February 2014
Wednesday, 29 January 2014
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 2 of 4)
So, yesterday, in the first part of this blog series, I talked about the selfishness and sin that clouded my perceptions of what I as doing on beach mission, making me feel completely useless.
Another factor that a friend of mine suggested was at play that week is related to my blindness to my contributions. To put it bluntly, I believe there was an element of Satan attack me, trying to blind me to what I could do and what I was doing. The purpose being to discourage me and limit, in a very real sense, the work I was doing to advance God's Kingdom.
I'm sure I wasn't the only team member under attack that week. I am, in fact, 100% certain we were all attacked through our weak points.
It is, after all, what Satan does.
He knows he's lost the war, now he's just trying to minimize his loses (and by that, I mean he's trying not to lose too many of his follower's to God). He is trying to prevent people from accepting God's grace.
And what was the team on beach mission for?
To reveal God's grace to the hurting, to extend it to the broken, and to invite the thirsty to drink from it. To drink from it deeply and be eternally content as a child of God.
Natural, Satan, our mortal enemy, was not impressed, and was doing everything he could to minimize our effectiveness.
I don't know how he chose to attack the other members of the team. Each person's pain is there own. But I know he was attacking me through my deep seated sense of worthlessness and fear that I have nothing to offer.
The discouraging thing for me is that, on a personal level, I know the Enemy definitely succeeded in the work I did. I look back on the week of beach mission and am frustrated by those conversations I could have had but didn't, whether it was with a camper or a team member.
But, the encouragement, the mind-boggling, grace-filled encouragement, is this: ultimately, on that beach mission, Satan failed.
In fact, I would say that he failed miserably.
Because each and every single day we saw God's power and grace take the campsite by storm.
I don't know that we saw anyone be saved, but I do know we saw fires being relit for God (both in team members and campers), we saw a child who had never really connected with other people bond with some of our team. We saw people encounter the truth of God's grace for the very first time.
I also know, because people have told me this, and because I know how God works, that my pathetic attempts at living by grace were used by God to His Glory.
I know, though I don't know how or it what way, exactly, that something I did and something I said, was used by God to touch a broken and hurting person, and reach into a life.
And that is enormous encouragement. Because it shows me something very clearly: I cannot. But neither can the Devil. Only God can.
But anyway, that's enough from me for today. Tune it tomorrow for the third part!
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 1 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 3 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 4 of 4)
Another factor that a friend of mine suggested was at play that week is related to my blindness to my contributions. To put it bluntly, I believe there was an element of Satan attack me, trying to blind me to what I could do and what I was doing. The purpose being to discourage me and limit, in a very real sense, the work I was doing to advance God's Kingdom.
I'm sure I wasn't the only team member under attack that week. I am, in fact, 100% certain we were all attacked through our weak points.
It is, after all, what Satan does.
He knows he's lost the war, now he's just trying to minimize his loses (and by that, I mean he's trying not to lose too many of his follower's to God). He is trying to prevent people from accepting God's grace.
And what was the team on beach mission for?
To reveal God's grace to the hurting, to extend it to the broken, and to invite the thirsty to drink from it. To drink from it deeply and be eternally content as a child of God.
Natural, Satan, our mortal enemy, was not impressed, and was doing everything he could to minimize our effectiveness.
I don't know how he chose to attack the other members of the team. Each person's pain is there own. But I know he was attacking me through my deep seated sense of worthlessness and fear that I have nothing to offer.
The discouraging thing for me is that, on a personal level, I know the Enemy definitely succeeded in the work I did. I look back on the week of beach mission and am frustrated by those conversations I could have had but didn't, whether it was with a camper or a team member.
But, the encouragement, the mind-boggling, grace-filled encouragement, is this: ultimately, on that beach mission, Satan failed.
In fact, I would say that he failed miserably.
Because each and every single day we saw God's power and grace take the campsite by storm.
I don't know that we saw anyone be saved, but I do know we saw fires being relit for God (both in team members and campers), we saw a child who had never really connected with other people bond with some of our team. We saw people encounter the truth of God's grace for the very first time.
I also know, because people have told me this, and because I know how God works, that my pathetic attempts at living by grace were used by God to His Glory.
I know, though I don't know how or it what way, exactly, that something I did and something I said, was used by God to touch a broken and hurting person, and reach into a life.
And that is enormous encouragement. Because it shows me something very clearly: I cannot. But neither can the Devil. Only God can.
But anyway, that's enough from me for today. Tune it tomorrow for the third part!
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 1 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 3 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 4 of 4)
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 1 of 4)
One of the, if not THE biggest challenge of beach mission at the being of the ear was how completely and utterly useless I felt. Honestly, I felt like a bit of deadweight flapping around and contributing exactly zero.
And, of course, Satan immediately came in with all those lies I've spent a life time battling.
Those insidious lies that I am worthless and I have nothing to contribute. God can't use me. What was I even doing there? Who did I think I was? I didn't just have nothing. I was nothing.
On the third day, in a moment of utter loneliness and desolation, I found myself breaking down, unable to hold my pain in.
And, of course, God acted to show me just how wrong Satan's lies are.
In a moment when I thought I was invisible, though I was alone in my pain, two team members found me and prayed for me, assuring me through their words and their actions that they loved me and saw me, and, more importantly, that God saw me and loved me. Loved me enough to care that I was alone and hurting. And, so many others came and hugged me, checked to make sure I'm alright. I have no words to explain how truly grateful I am.
Still, that sense never left me, and I finished the week feeling certain I had contributed nothing to the mission.
It was interesting, chatting about it on the last day with some of the other members of the team. Their reactions to my confession of feeling useless showed me that from their point of view, I had contributed. More than that, my contribution was valuable and valued. To know that was certainly encouraging.
Now, having had a number of days to reflect on the experience, I now realize that there were a number of factors at play there that week. Both in me and around me. It helped that a dear friend of mine was willing to sit down and chat about it.
So, in this post I'll be talking through what the first factor was. I'll be writing about the over the next couple of days.
So, the first factor was definitely my own sin.
I was, quite bluntly, extremely self-absorbed. To be honest, it pains me to admit that, even to myself. Selfishness is a trait I loathe, but I despise hypocrisy even more. So, there you have it: I was being selfish.
Don't get me wrong, I was actively looking for opportunities to serve and sacrifice. I trust that I can say, without arrogance, that the Holy Spirit has been working in me for too long for me to simply abandon a genuine love and compassion at the first sign of trouble.
But, in my heart, my sinful nature was exerting itself and twisting the selflessness God has developed in me on myself - making me selfish. Does that make any sense at all?
Essentially, instead of rejoicing in every act of service I was doing as an act of God's grace, I was focusing on every act of service I wasn't doing as a sign of my failure and lack of ability. Instead of focusing on God and what He was doing, I was focusing on myself and what I wasn't doing as a measure of my worth.
Completely selfish and extremely dumb.
Another sin I was committing was that of comparison and coveting.
Which, you know, is 100% connected with selfishness. But part of my problem was that I was looking at, and comparing myself to, some of the other team members. And I'm sure you know the kinds I'm talking about. Those who were my opposites in terms of gifting. I looked at those who gifted at connecting with people instantly and striking up natural, easy conversation. People who were gifted at things that leave me shaking in my boots and tongue-tied.
And, I'm sure you know how comparing works, but I was setting their ease and comfort up as the standard I as trying to attain. More than that, I was meant to be. And, of course, I was falling short.
Which led to a discontentment with myself that fed into my certainty of my failure and blinded me to what I was capable of and what I was actually doing.
I hope that at this point you've been able to follow what I've been saying. At the moment, I'll leave this year, and tomorrow I'll talk through this some more.
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 2 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 3 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 4 of 4)
And, of course, Satan immediately came in with all those lies I've spent a life time battling.
Those insidious lies that I am worthless and I have nothing to contribute. God can't use me. What was I even doing there? Who did I think I was? I didn't just have nothing. I was nothing.
On the third day, in a moment of utter loneliness and desolation, I found myself breaking down, unable to hold my pain in.
And, of course, God acted to show me just how wrong Satan's lies are.
In a moment when I thought I was invisible, though I was alone in my pain, two team members found me and prayed for me, assuring me through their words and their actions that they loved me and saw me, and, more importantly, that God saw me and loved me. Loved me enough to care that I was alone and hurting. And, so many others came and hugged me, checked to make sure I'm alright. I have no words to explain how truly grateful I am.
Still, that sense never left me, and I finished the week feeling certain I had contributed nothing to the mission.
It was interesting, chatting about it on the last day with some of the other members of the team. Their reactions to my confession of feeling useless showed me that from their point of view, I had contributed. More than that, my contribution was valuable and valued. To know that was certainly encouraging.
Now, having had a number of days to reflect on the experience, I now realize that there were a number of factors at play there that week. Both in me and around me. It helped that a dear friend of mine was willing to sit down and chat about it.
So, in this post I'll be talking through what the first factor was. I'll be writing about the over the next couple of days.
So, the first factor was definitely my own sin.
I was, quite bluntly, extremely self-absorbed. To be honest, it pains me to admit that, even to myself. Selfishness is a trait I loathe, but I despise hypocrisy even more. So, there you have it: I was being selfish.
Don't get me wrong, I was actively looking for opportunities to serve and sacrifice. I trust that I can say, without arrogance, that the Holy Spirit has been working in me for too long for me to simply abandon a genuine love and compassion at the first sign of trouble.
But, in my heart, my sinful nature was exerting itself and twisting the selflessness God has developed in me on myself - making me selfish. Does that make any sense at all?
Essentially, instead of rejoicing in every act of service I was doing as an act of God's grace, I was focusing on every act of service I wasn't doing as a sign of my failure and lack of ability. Instead of focusing on God and what He was doing, I was focusing on myself and what I wasn't doing as a measure of my worth.
Completely selfish and extremely dumb.
Another sin I was committing was that of comparison and coveting.
Which, you know, is 100% connected with selfishness. But part of my problem was that I was looking at, and comparing myself to, some of the other team members. And I'm sure you know the kinds I'm talking about. Those who were my opposites in terms of gifting. I looked at those who gifted at connecting with people instantly and striking up natural, easy conversation. People who were gifted at things that leave me shaking in my boots and tongue-tied.
And, I'm sure you know how comparing works, but I was setting their ease and comfort up as the standard I as trying to attain. More than that, I was meant to be. And, of course, I was falling short.
Which led to a discontentment with myself that fed into my certainty of my failure and blinded me to what I was capable of and what I was actually doing.
I hope that at this point you've been able to follow what I've been saying. At the moment, I'll leave this year, and tomorrow I'll talk through this some more.
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 2 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 3 of 4)
Heavenly Father, I Cannot, but You Can (part 4 of 4)
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Thanksgiving #1 - The Incarnation
"And I will cause hostility between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring. He will strike your head, and you will strike his heel." Genesis 3: 11
"Alright then! The Lord Himself will give you a sign. Look, the virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call Him Immanuel (which means 'God is with us')" Isaiah 7: 14
"My mercy and justice are coming soon. My salvation is on the way. My strong arm will bring justice to the nations. All the distant lands will look to me and wait in hope for my powerful arm." Isaiah 51: 5
"In the beginning, the Word already existed. The Word was with God and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God, and nothing was created except through Him... So the Word became human and made His home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father's one and only son." John 1: 1-3, 14
"And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born,. She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped Him snugly in strips of cloth and laid Him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them." Luke 2: 6 - 7
"Then Simeon blessed them, and he said to Mary, the baby's mother, 'This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, but He will be a joy to many others. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose Him. As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul." Luke 2: 34 - 35
"But He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole, He was whipped so we could be healed. All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God's path to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on Him the sins of us all." Isaiah 53: 5 - 6
" 'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why are you standing here staring into Heaven? Jesus has been taken from you into heaven, but someday He will return from heaven in the same way you saw Him go." Acts 1: 11
" 'Look, I am coming soon, bringing my reward with me to repay all people according to their deeds. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End." Revelation 22: 12 - 13
The Incarnation... it is the great mystery of the ages.
The God become Man. The God-Man Babe who was the God-Man Sacrifice who is the Priest King of Heaven.
Seriously, it blows my mind.
That God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth should stoop down to become a human. To be born as a squalling little baby, in a stable, in a backwater town of a backwater region of the Roman Empire.
In order to save me and anyone else who accepts it from Hell.
Wow. Wow. Wow. WOW! And have I mentioned: "WOW!!"?
The assistant minister said it last night. He said it clear for all to hear. That first Christmas was the Dawn of a new Day of Grace.
And it was true.
That First Christmas began the life that fulfilled promises that reached back into the mists of time.
It was the day on which GOD lovingly condescended to become one of us, His broken, defiled creation, so that He could reach us and save us because He knew we could not reach Him or save ourselves.
It was a life of sacrifice right from the start.
The one child who could choose where He wanted to be born and who His family would be, chose a carpenter as His father, a virgin as His mother, a stable as His birthing place and a manger as His first resting place.
The only words I can think are "this blows my mind".
Because I know I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve that kind of Love and Grace.
And I have yet to meet someone who can convince me that they do.
But that's the Miracle of Grace, the Gift of Christmas.
We don't deserve God's love. We don't deserve His Grace. We don't deserve His Mercy. But He stooped down and gives it to us anyway.
No wonder He is Exalted.
No wonder the angels sang His praises, and the magi travelled far to meet Him.
What a mind-boggling, brain-bending, heart stopping truth.
So, today, Christmas Day, I give whole hearted thanks for that Child, for that Man. Because He is my Everything, and I can't do it without Him.
Happy Remembrance of Jesus' Birth Day everyone.
"Alright then! The Lord Himself will give you a sign. Look, the virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call Him Immanuel (which means 'God is with us')" Isaiah 7: 14
"My mercy and justice are coming soon. My salvation is on the way. My strong arm will bring justice to the nations. All the distant lands will look to me and wait in hope for my powerful arm." Isaiah 51: 5
"In the beginning, the Word already existed. The Word was with God and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God, and nothing was created except through Him... So the Word became human and made His home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father's one and only son." John 1: 1-3, 14
"And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born,. She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped Him snugly in strips of cloth and laid Him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them." Luke 2: 6 - 7
"Then Simeon blessed them, and he said to Mary, the baby's mother, 'This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, but He will be a joy to many others. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose Him. As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul." Luke 2: 34 - 35
"But He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole, He was whipped so we could be healed. All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God's path to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on Him the sins of us all." Isaiah 53: 5 - 6
" 'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why are you standing here staring into Heaven? Jesus has been taken from you into heaven, but someday He will return from heaven in the same way you saw Him go." Acts 1: 11
" 'Look, I am coming soon, bringing my reward with me to repay all people according to their deeds. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End." Revelation 22: 12 - 13
The Incarnation... it is the great mystery of the ages.
The God become Man. The God-Man Babe who was the God-Man Sacrifice who is the Priest King of Heaven.
Seriously, it blows my mind.
That God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth should stoop down to become a human. To be born as a squalling little baby, in a stable, in a backwater town of a backwater region of the Roman Empire.
In order to save me and anyone else who accepts it from Hell.
Wow. Wow. Wow. WOW! And have I mentioned: "WOW!!"?
The assistant minister said it last night. He said it clear for all to hear. That first Christmas was the Dawn of a new Day of Grace.
And it was true.
That First Christmas began the life that fulfilled promises that reached back into the mists of time.
It was the day on which GOD lovingly condescended to become one of us, His broken, defiled creation, so that He could reach us and save us because He knew we could not reach Him or save ourselves.
It was a life of sacrifice right from the start.
The one child who could choose where He wanted to be born and who His family would be, chose a carpenter as His father, a virgin as His mother, a stable as His birthing place and a manger as His first resting place.
The only words I can think are "this blows my mind".
Because I know I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve that kind of Love and Grace.
And I have yet to meet someone who can convince me that they do.
But that's the Miracle of Grace, the Gift of Christmas.
We don't deserve God's love. We don't deserve His Grace. We don't deserve His Mercy. But He stooped down and gives it to us anyway.
No wonder He is Exalted.
No wonder the angels sang His praises, and the magi travelled far to meet Him.
What a mind-boggling, brain-bending, heart stopping truth.
So, today, Christmas Day, I give whole hearted thanks for that Child, for that Man. Because He is my Everything, and I can't do it without Him.
Happy Remembrance of Jesus' Birth Day everyone.
Tuesday, 24 December 2013
Thanksgiving #2 - Family
My heart is extremely heavy this Christmas Eve.
There is a weight that sits on it, pressing down. There have been moments when I have found it hard to breathe through the pain. And I have been driven to my knees, both metaphorically and literally.
And, despite the pain, or perhaps because of the pain, I realize how grateful I am for my parents and sisters.
This world is so broken. I just can't avoid it. Not this year, and I doubt I will ever be able to again.
I sit in church and a friend talks about the brother who has just had a major row with his family.
I scroll down my newsfeed, and I see the posts from the girl whose mother died only a month ago and whose boyfriend left her pregnant. She mourns the loss of both those people, and knows that Christmas just won't be the same this year.
I sit at my kitchen table writing and hear my parents tell us that our uncle and his wife have split up. That makes the third couple out of five from that generation to break up... and the second this year.
I walk outside and hear the neighbours arguing. An affair, a heartbreak, a desire to end the marriage.
I think of people around the world on Christmas, and can think only of those being sexually abused for money, meeting in secret to worship, dying by the thousands from hunger and starvation.
My heart is thudding in my chest. It hurts. It hurts so badly.
Then I look around my home. At my parents, at my sisters, and my heart whispers thank you.
Thank you that my parents are still together, still love each other.
Thank you that I can count my sisters among my best friends.
Thank you that my family is still together, and unlikely to break apart.
Because it's not through anything we've done. We've said no spell, hit upon no secret for the perfect home.
We argue, we disrespect, we hurt each other. It all happens.
But we are united by something deeper than our own sinfulness. The Love of God and the shared knowledge and understanding of what Christmas is all about. The God-become-Man who brought us Grace beyond measure.
He is at the centre of our lives, and He holds us all together.
And I am so very, very grateful.
There is a weight that sits on it, pressing down. There have been moments when I have found it hard to breathe through the pain. And I have been driven to my knees, both metaphorically and literally.
And, despite the pain, or perhaps because of the pain, I realize how grateful I am for my parents and sisters.
This world is so broken. I just can't avoid it. Not this year, and I doubt I will ever be able to again.
I sit in church and a friend talks about the brother who has just had a major row with his family.
I scroll down my newsfeed, and I see the posts from the girl whose mother died only a month ago and whose boyfriend left her pregnant. She mourns the loss of both those people, and knows that Christmas just won't be the same this year.
I sit at my kitchen table writing and hear my parents tell us that our uncle and his wife have split up. That makes the third couple out of five from that generation to break up... and the second this year.
I walk outside and hear the neighbours arguing. An affair, a heartbreak, a desire to end the marriage.
I think of people around the world on Christmas, and can think only of those being sexually abused for money, meeting in secret to worship, dying by the thousands from hunger and starvation.
My heart is thudding in my chest. It hurts. It hurts so badly.
Then I look around my home. At my parents, at my sisters, and my heart whispers thank you.
Thank you that my parents are still together, still love each other.
Thank you that I can count my sisters among my best friends.
Thank you that my family is still together, and unlikely to break apart.
Because it's not through anything we've done. We've said no spell, hit upon no secret for the perfect home.
We argue, we disrespect, we hurt each other. It all happens.
But we are united by something deeper than our own sinfulness. The Love of God and the shared knowledge and understanding of what Christmas is all about. The God-become-Man who brought us Grace beyond measure.
He is at the centre of our lives, and He holds us all together.
And I am so very, very grateful.
Sunday, 22 December 2013
Thanksgiving #4 - TV shows
Hey everyone,
So sorry that I haven't really been writing here. I've been spending the past few weeks as far away as possible from social media. I really needed the break.
But, I'm back, and I'll be trying to write one everyday between now and Christmas (all 4 days of them).
This may seem slightly strange, but today I am thanking God for TV shows. Over the past couple of weeks, I've spent a lot of time watching through some awesome scifi shows (yes, I am a nerd!). And I have been absolutely loving it.
The stories have been firing my imaginations, giving me questions to think about and have been allowing me to relax. So, I thank God for them and for the creativity He has blessed us with to create such shows.
So sorry that I haven't really been writing here. I've been spending the past few weeks as far away as possible from social media. I really needed the break.
But, I'm back, and I'll be trying to write one everyday between now and Christmas (all 4 days of them).
This may seem slightly strange, but today I am thanking God for TV shows. Over the past couple of weeks, I've spent a lot of time watching through some awesome scifi shows (yes, I am a nerd!). And I have been absolutely loving it.
The stories have been firing my imaginations, giving me questions to think about and have been allowing me to relax. So, I thank God for them and for the creativity He has blessed us with to create such shows.
Friday, 13 December 2013
Thanksgiving #13 - The Simple and Unexpected
We were strolling down the main path of Hyde Park, chatting about the trees and bagpipes, when she exclaimed "I love this guy!"
Startled, I looked around, not sure whom she was talking about. Then I saw him too.
He stood on the path holding a loop of string attached to two sticks. He dipped the string in a bucket and pulled it up. Moving with ease and confidence, he stretched open the string, using the sticks. The wind caught the liquid suspended in the loop and blew it out. It formed a bubble, a translucent sheet of dancing colour.
He moved to place this broad billowing sheet over the head of a young boy who whimpered and pressed closer to the woman beside him. She and the man chuckled and the man re-dipped the string in the bucket.
Again, a billowing tunnel of colour formed in the air. He took it over to a young girl who stuck her head into it, giggling the way only a child can. Her siblings, who stood beside her, giggled too.
Then the man grasped who looked almost like a solid plastic net out of a shallow bowl and twirled it through the air.
Hundreds of paper thin spheres of colour came bursting out. Caught by the wind, they danced along merrily as a little boy laughed and chased them, hands outstretched to catch them.
Soon, we moved away, having laughed and been delighted. I murmured to my friend, feeling a deep contentment, "that'll be appearing on my blog". She asked why and I answered.
It's sometimes, always, the simple things in life that bring us the most joy. So often, we over-complicate life, we look for joy in the complex things. And yet... it's the simple things - bubbles on the wind in the park, the laugh of a child, an avenue of trees - that bring us the sweetest moments of joy. That curve our lips in the softest of smiles and bring a glow to our eyes.
She smiled her agreement "and the surprising things, the unexpected things."
I nodded and we continued on our walk, chatting easily until we reached our destination.
The moment we stepped through the door a hush descended. Not an awkward hush, not even a companionable hush, but a reverent hush.
The towering ceiling supported by carved dark wood rafters, sandstone walls that glowed in the yellow sunlight, stain glass windows with familiar scenes - the maji, the babe and other storie s from the incredible life of that one pure man who lived and died 2000 and years ago, and who continues to live today.
We sat, two young woman who love the Lord, on the pews of that cathedral, our eyes caught up by the beauty of the building and our minds and hearts wondering at, worshipping, the glory and graciousness of the God the building was built to glorify.
The silence was not suffocating, it was releasing. We sat, our own thoughts wondering, occasionally whispering to each other, sharing some thought to ponder.
How incredible is our God, we both agreed.
And even after we'd left the building, it took a few minutes for the us to stop whispering and speak in normal voices. We strolled around the city, sipping cool drinks and trying not to feel the heat. We chatted, mostly theology, sometimes life, until I boarded my train.
We hugged good-bye and I couldn't help but think how grateful I am. How thank I am for the simple and unexpected, and, at that moment, most of all, the friend who was vanishing up the steps to her own platform.
An, as I sat down and started to write, I realized writing was no longer a struggle. I wasn't feeling like I had to rack my brains in search of a thanksgiving point to write on.
God's grace had, once again, found me, through no work of my own, and had left me silenced, but brimming with joy and thanksgiving.
And the words, they almost wrote themselves.
Thank you, Father. My heart needed this little gift of yours!
Startled, I looked around, not sure whom she was talking about. Then I saw him too.
He stood on the path holding a loop of string attached to two sticks. He dipped the string in a bucket and pulled it up. Moving with ease and confidence, he stretched open the string, using the sticks. The wind caught the liquid suspended in the loop and blew it out. It formed a bubble, a translucent sheet of dancing colour.
He moved to place this broad billowing sheet over the head of a young boy who whimpered and pressed closer to the woman beside him. She and the man chuckled and the man re-dipped the string in the bucket.
Again, a billowing tunnel of colour formed in the air. He took it over to a young girl who stuck her head into it, giggling the way only a child can. Her siblings, who stood beside her, giggled too.
Then the man grasped who looked almost like a solid plastic net out of a shallow bowl and twirled it through the air.
Hundreds of paper thin spheres of colour came bursting out. Caught by the wind, they danced along merrily as a little boy laughed and chased them, hands outstretched to catch them.
Soon, we moved away, having laughed and been delighted. I murmured to my friend, feeling a deep contentment, "that'll be appearing on my blog". She asked why and I answered.
It's sometimes, always, the simple things in life that bring us the most joy. So often, we over-complicate life, we look for joy in the complex things. And yet... it's the simple things - bubbles on the wind in the park, the laugh of a child, an avenue of trees - that bring us the sweetest moments of joy. That curve our lips in the softest of smiles and bring a glow to our eyes.
She smiled her agreement "and the surprising things, the unexpected things."
I nodded and we continued on our walk, chatting easily until we reached our destination.
The moment we stepped through the door a hush descended. Not an awkward hush, not even a companionable hush, but a reverent hush.
The towering ceiling supported by carved dark wood rafters, sandstone walls that glowed in the yellow sunlight, stain glass windows with familiar scenes - the maji, the babe and other storie s from the incredible life of that one pure man who lived and died 2000 and years ago, and who continues to live today.
We sat, two young woman who love the Lord, on the pews of that cathedral, our eyes caught up by the beauty of the building and our minds and hearts wondering at, worshipping, the glory and graciousness of the God the building was built to glorify.
The silence was not suffocating, it was releasing. We sat, our own thoughts wondering, occasionally whispering to each other, sharing some thought to ponder.
How incredible is our God, we both agreed.
And even after we'd left the building, it took a few minutes for the us to stop whispering and speak in normal voices. We strolled around the city, sipping cool drinks and trying not to feel the heat. We chatted, mostly theology, sometimes life, until I boarded my train.
We hugged good-bye and I couldn't help but think how grateful I am. How thank I am for the simple and unexpected, and, at that moment, most of all, the friend who was vanishing up the steps to her own platform.
An, as I sat down and started to write, I realized writing was no longer a struggle. I wasn't feeling like I had to rack my brains in search of a thanksgiving point to write on.
God's grace had, once again, found me, through no work of my own, and had left me silenced, but brimming with joy and thanksgiving.
And the words, they almost wrote themselves.
Thank you, Father. My heart needed this little gift of yours!
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