Category Archives: Comfort

Not of my choosing..

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.”

(Luke 9.23&24)

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

(Matthew 11. 28-30)

Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in anguish. How long O Lord, how long? Turn, O Lord, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love…The Lord has heard my cry for mercy; the Lord accepts my prayer.

(Psalm 6.2-4,9)

When my late father was undergoing treatment for cancer, he discovered – much to his chagrin – that a great deal of the good temper and exemplary patience which he had enjoyed all his life had been due to his excellent health! When that health was undermined, he discovered that perhaps it was not so easy to be gentle, forbearing and always cheerful, and found a new sympathy with those whose health had never been good.. In the same way, a person who has never experienced real deprivation may lack sympathy for those who truly suffer from it, may not have compassion for their anxiety and may even judge them for a lack of hope and confidence..

God sees clearly those areas of our lives where we are most proud of ourselves, where our self-esteem is most deeply rooted, and where we are least dependent on his sustaining power. I believe that at times he permits those very dear things to be undermined, in order that we might learn to cling to him alone in a new and closer way, accepting that EVERYTHING we have is only ever a gift, which may be withdrawn, and which cannot be relied upon for our peace of mind and sense of worth. These things are in danger of becoming idols in our souls, displacing Christ from the place of pre-eminence which is his right, and weakening us in our life of faith and witness. It is grace when God in his wisdom chooses to uproot them.

I do not have permission to choose the cross which I am called to take up daily, and which requires me to deny, to silence those voices which cry out against God’s will and clamour for my own way in everything. Will I trust my God for this trial, this cross? Do I believe him, when he promises to sustain me through it, even to glorify himself in my life as I lean hard on his arm for strength? Am I willing perhaps NEVER to see how God uses my experience for good, but to believe that he will because he has promised it?

At the moment, I am experiencing a particular trial – a gentle undermining of my health which has gone on for over four years now, in various guises, preventing me from doing things which are important to me. My estimation of myself is diminished, I am tempted to despise the rather feeble person I am become, as I try to live within the limitations imposed by my body. Is God any less delighted with me as his daughter, because of these things? NO! Am I in any way less able to pray for his work, to witness to the saving power of Jesus Christ? NO! And yet, and yet, I fret and mourn for what cannot be, tempted to despair instead of rejoicing in all I am and have in Christ.

As my running shoes remain unused, and mountains remain untrodden, I am drawn to cling to my God, to pour out my regrets and fears to the God who knows and loves me so tenderly, who gave me a desire to run and climb in the first place! He knows the burden which he is asking me to bear at this time, he knows how much it is costing to pick up that cross daily and then to walk with it cheerfully.

When we bring our crosses into that loving presence – whatever they may be – we find one who knows how we struggle, and who himself bore burdens beyond our imagining . And he comes alongside to bear us, to draw the sting of anxiety and dread, to give us for every pang the sweetest assurance of his presence and love.

In our daily carrying of our individual crosses, may we find the fellowship we enjoy with Christ so dear, so sustaining, that the burden does indeed become light, since we bear it for his sake and with his strength. In our weakness, may his power be made abundantly plain, and our delight in his grace towards us grow ever greater!

We are the Resurrection people!

I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes – I , and not another.

(Job 19.25-27)

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him…and so we will be with the Lord for ever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.

(1 Thessalonians 4.13,14&18)

How wonderful it is, to have such incredible good news to celebrate and to share on this Resurrection day! We have a saviour who died, yes, and who was raised from death. God demonstrated with great power that the divine plan for dealing forever with the forces of evil and their hold on humanity had succeeded.

Jesus had cried aloud upon the cross in his obedient agony, “It is finished!” There was absolutely nothing else needed, no human endeavour to be added to this divine passion for justice and mercy. And so God, in his loving kindness to us, knowing that we are weak and frightened easily, raised Jesus to life, showing the way that is now open to us as his followers, into eternal life in a resurrected body, like and yet unlike any we have known.

This is the point which Paul makes as he writes to reassure the Thessalonian believers, who are grieving for fellow christians who had recently died.. Look, he says, see what Jesus has done, and be comforted because this will be our experience too! We may not understand the mysteries which unite our temporal reality with an eternal future; but of this we can be absolutely sure – we will enter into that future with bodies; with hands to serve and voices to praise and eyes and hearts to adore our Lord.

The experience of death in this world, dreadful though it undoubtedly can be, is not the end, the power of the grave is broken. It can no longer hold those who call upon the name of Jesus, and we are sure of being gathered into his arms and of seeing him, with our own eyes. I was privileged to see for myself the power which this hope gives to those facing death, power to yield themselves up in peace and confidence to the Lord who has gone before and has promised to carry them through this last trial. For both of my parents, their steadfast faith was the anchor and joy of their last months, making it so easy for us as their children to release them to a future which they longed to see.

As I rejoice at the empty tomb, sharing in the soul-shaking joy of Mary at her master’s feet, I repent of my frequent bouts of despair, and ask God’s help to live more and more in the light of this sure and certain hope which that empty tomb gives me. I believe in the resurrection of the body – so why do I fear anything at all?! I believe that I shall see my adored Saviour with my own eyes – so why am I not overflowing with this good news to all those who are in my life?

My God has given me so much in this world already, out of his goodness pouring blessings one after another into my life – and I can relish each one to the full, knowing that there is an eternity of even better to come..This life is NOT all there is, I need NOT resent the passing of youth, health or wealth, because EVERYTHING good and glorious is already stored up for me in my Father’s house, and as I fix my eyes upon my Jesus, following him down into the shadow of the valley of death, so I will surely be led after him out at the other side.

Slow..to the point of immobility!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off every thing that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 

Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

(Hebrews 12.1-3)

If my life were to be pictured as a race, what kind would it look like? A sprint? – fast, strong, utterly focussed? Or a steeple-chase, with obstacles over which I leap gracefully, recovering my stride and moving smoothly onwards? Or even a marathon – not very fast, but nonetheless dogged and relentless, without swerving from the allotted course?

Alas, my life as a race would resemble the progress of a blindfold athlete, who had forgotten to put on the proper clothes, and who was carrying most of their belongings on their back in a pack. My progress would be uncertain, without direction, with frequent periods when I simply sat down wherever I happened to be and cried for a while out of sheer frustration and self-pity.

At the beginning of a new year, we often make promises to ourselves about a new start, fresh commitments. I have been here often enough to know that is a recipe for despair and self-loathing by the end of January at the very latest! Instead it seems to me healthier to focus for a time on the ways which God has kept me through the previous year, to see more clearly his provision and all the ways he has brought good for me- and perhaps others – out of times of pain, and difficulty. But, in racing terms, that only counts as a breather! And I am called – as a follower of Jesus – to follow, which implies movement, forwards in a given direction..

So how can I realistically face this new twelve-month, knowing that I have no way of preparing for the unknown events ahead; that I may not even live to see the end of it? Paul’s exhortation to the readers of this letter are like the encouraging – and bracing – words of our coach and mentor..

Look who is watching, who has completed this race before you! They are witnesses to God’s power to keep you and transform you and be glorified through even such frail creatures as we are. You can do this, because God is with you!”

On the one hand, I remember those heroes of the faith who were commended in chapter 11, all of whom were frail and sinning people like me – and God, through the writer of this letter, calls them his faithful servants. If they can be commended, after trying and messing it up, then I can too!

Seeing this, I can take courage to commit myself to the ongoing effort to become more like Christ – letting him dominate my sight and thought, recognising and letting go (or cutting out), those things which distract me from him, and distort his image in me. This is God’s work in my life – but I know I can choose to hinder it, so I pray for a submissive heart and willing attitude to co-ooperate with that work, knowing that God can and will complete what he plans.

I am a slow learner in this following life; I never know what to say when asked earnestly, “So,what is the Lord trying to teach you at the moment?”. I think God knows what he is doing, and I prefer not to look too closely for myself – but rather to do as Paul exhorts his readers…to fix my eyes on Jesus, to consider him and let nothing else get in my way.

This I know, that if my heart is fixed on obedience to Christ; and my desire is to become more like him, then whatever else happens in 2017, I will be given grace to persevere, and to glorify God in it. I may not see any progress, but He will, and that will be sufficient.

Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me, all his wonderful passion and purity.

May his spirit divine all my being refine, Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me.

(Tom M. Jones) 

Whispers of comfort

“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the Lord, who has compassion on you. “O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted, I will build you with stones of turquoise, your foundations with sapphires. 

 (Isa 54.10-11)

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. 

(2Cor 1.3)

I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”

(Rev 21.3&4)

Lashed by storms and not comforted, surrounded by a land laid waste by disaster and conflict.. This image in Isaiah’s prophecy of the desolation suffered by Jerusalem is a powerful and heart-rending one – calling to mind for us in these days places like the Syrian city of Aleppo, where distress beyond telling is the daily experience of so many people. Our globe continues to suffer the consequences of human rebellion against God – and humanity’s exaltation of itself.

Sometimes it can be a very private and personal desolation, a series of losses, setbacks and disappointments – in others and ourselves – which leave us reeling, breathless and weak. It was into such a personal situation many years ago that my mother read these words to me, bringing word from God of his tender compassion for my grief and agony. They were a lifeline, a trustworthy and secure connection to the solid ground of God’s over-arching provision for me through Jesus’s death and resurrection. All would one day be well, and I could hang on in the dark to that promise.

Is this not one of the most precious elements of the riches which we find in the coming of Jesus to be our Saviour? We are to be comforted – held closely by loving arms, like frightened or lonely children; warmed by the fiery love of God dwelling within us; quieted in our spirits by the knowledge that there is one in control who is all-powerful and ultimately victorious. Do we not all carry around in our adult bodies the spirits of little children, looking for a home and security, a place to lay down a burden of responsibility which is too great for us? Surely this is what Jesus meant when he called us to bear his yoke, which is light, and to allow the Almighty and Everlasting God to be God, to take from us those things which crush and destroy?

Our guilt for past sins – gone, by the grace of God in the atoning death of Christ on the cross. Our regrets for what might have been – lifted by the promise of eternal life in a new creation with infinite possibilities for good, and by God’s ability to work all things together for good for those who love him. Our fears for the future – transformed into quiet hope and expectation, that with God, we can do all that needs to be done, and that He sees and knows how to value our desire to obey and keep faith with him.

“Comfort, comfort my people,” says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem. Tell her that her sad days are gone and her sins are pardoned.”( Isa 40.1)

The comfort which God offers is ultimately guaranteed by the fulfillment of all the prophecies about the coming of a Saviour. That comfort comes to us at the price of God’s son taking on human flesh, and then taking that flesh to the cross – for me, for you – where he was not comforted in his appalling isolation and pain, but mocked and abandoned.

What we receive, Jesus gave up. In his darkness there was no comfort, only agony and degradation as sin shut him out from his Father’s presence. Do I even begin to grasp what the perfect Son of God suffered for love of me? No, I can only wonder, and worship, and reach out passionately to grasp the precious comfort which his death provides for me – how I need this!

Be comforted, be warmed and reassured this Christmas, as you celebrate the coming of such a Saviour, and have confidence in telling others. We have tidings of great comfort and joy!

Just be gentle…

“Go out and stand before me on the mountain”, the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

(1Kings 19. 11-13)

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. the Lord is near.

(Philippians 4.4&5)

My father was a ‘gentle-man’, it was one of his outstanding qualities. He was strong, physically and emotionally, stubborn and loyal, but very gentle. He had big hands, but would delicately cup a rose bud or seedling as he transplanted it. He never shouted or snapped at us as children – and I don’t think I have just forgotten it either! I have no memory of him talking about others to demean or mock them, but sometimes he would express regret that their actions and words had unfortunate consequences.

As I go on in life I increasingly appreciate gentleness, and thank God that in my father, I was shown such a clear example of God’s own gentleness in his dealing with his children. I will always be a child of God. I will always need my Father’s love and provision, and part of that provision is for the balm of gentleness.

When a child is frightened, hurt or astray and worried about coming home in disgrace, they need above all to be met with gentleness. That quality speaks of a love which understands our weakness, and knows that we need above all reassurance, not a brisk reprimand or exhortation to ‘get over it and get on!’ Perhaps in due time, the reprimand will be given – gently – or the exhortation to continue on the way will come. But first and foremost is the comfort, the healing of a forbearing love.

True gentleness is hard to fake, and easy to recognise. It is a quality which draws people towards itself, as moths to a flame, as cold hands to a warm glowing fire. Jesus had it, and so drew to himself so many wounded and rejected, worthless and despised people. They knew that he was different, that he would not add to their pain but would recognise, respect and minister to it.

Jesus valued everyone as a child of God, created to know and love and be loved, to add their own unique voice to the eternal song of glory to God. When we fail in gentleness, we are failing to demonstrate that same awareness of the priceless value of each person. Surely that is part of what Paul is driving at when he exhorts the church in Philippi to be known for their gentleness, by reminding them that ‘The Lord is near.’ This Lord who crafted each person in his own image; who longs for each one to come into a loving relationship with him; who longs for each one to know life in all its fullness within the community of God’s people here on earth.

I know what it is to crave gentleness from those around me, in times of distress and even in times of gladness, I find it hard to be handled brusquely and feel somehow diminished and irrelevant. A lack of gentleness tells me that I do not matter, that my feelings don’t matter, and I am of little value. This is not what the story of God’s love tells me, and I cling so closely to his gentle arms, listening for that gentle whisper which speaks his presence and his constant love. He tells me that I am special, beloved, worth everything to him, and that gentle voice brings healing.

Let me minister this healing to others, since I know how precious it is for me. Let us all seek to grow this Christ-quality in all our dealings with one another, so that we may build one another up, and not cause any to fall down or become discouraged, thinking that they do not matter to us – or to God.

Let our gentleness indeed be known to all, that God might be glorified and his people blessed!

Just keep walking..

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

(John 8.12)

I love to walk. I like to walk around new places, getting a feel of them by pounding the streets, hearing the voices and traffic, letting the smells and sights inform and enrich my experience. I like to walk with friends, to share time with them as we go together through parkland or by riverbank, or even just up the road to church. I like to run too, but due to persistent injury, that activity is forbidden for the present, and so the energy which I would normally expend in running is being channeled into walking as a way of relaxing!

One of my favourite times to walk is of an evening, as the light lengthens and the sky often clears to reveal a breath-taking depth of colours. And just as when I walk with friends in the park, it is a time of fellowship and friendship, this time, with the one who is always present, my Lord Jesus. He is my best friend, the one above all others who loves me as I am and delights in all that pleases me. He understands why I have to stop and caress a beautiful bud, smell the freshly opened rose, lift my arms to the stooping boughs of great trees. These things were made to be received with gratitude, and so I love to share them with my Lord, to notice each one as a gift from his love, just for me.

Sometimes, I will leave the house in darkness – the darkness of spirit which comes through sin; through the pain which our most dearly loved can cause us; or through despair as I have been reminded of the extent to which our race choose to reject God and to live without hope in the world.  On those walks, there may well be tears, there will be half-formed laments and protests against the agony I am feeling. But even as I walk, weep and talk, with my Lord, there will always be that profound assurance of presence. He never leaves me to walk alone in the darkness, never…

And his presence is light in my darkness; is it not the only thing which makes our struggles bearable, to know that we are not alone? And is it not true that even our greatest joys are somehow enhanced when we share them with someone who understands and loves us? What a blessing then, to have his constant presence bringing comfort for my pain, and enriching my life by receiving my thanks for all the good things I receive!

By the light of his presence, the darkness is put into perspective, and I am reminded that I cannot see the whole picture, nor know the end of the story. His loving light shows me the sin that remains in my own life, reminding me of the cause of all the darkness and cautioning me against judging others when I am so weak myself. And above all, the light of Christ is the love of God the Father for me, his redeemed child – that love which paid the ultimate price to make me his daughter. When I remember that loving sacrifice, then I can be sure that even the deepest darkness in the world around, or in my spirit can never separate me from him. I may not understand, I may deplore my circumstances and the evil done in the world. But in the light of his presence, I can rest, sure that one day I will go home to be forever with my Lord, and all justice will be done, to the glory of God and the praise of his name.

There is an old song which expresses that deep conviction of my Lord’s constant loving presence, and I will finish today with some words from it to get you singing.

I serve a risen Saviour, he’s in the world today; I know that he is living, whatever men may say;

I see his hand of mercy, I hear his voice of cheer. And just the time I need him he’s always near.

He lives, he lives, Christ Jesus lives today! He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way.

He lives, he lives, salvation to impart! You ask me how I know he lives? He lives within my heart.

(H.A. Rodeheaver.1961)

Praying for my children….

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade – kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.

In this you greatly rejoice, though now  for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

(1 Peter 1. 3-9)

How often when praying for those dearest to us do we find ourselves asking God to keep them safe, to make their path smooth, and trouble free? It is all too easy, and very natural since as parents we expend so much time and energy in protecting and nurturing them as they grow! But is it healthy for their growth in faith? I fear not, and this passage from Peter’s letter would suggest otherwise. It is of course very painful for parents to see their children suffer, or drift away from faith in the God whom we believe is yearning over them. I do not wish in any way to minimise how we struggle to bear it when our children are in trouble, or how our own faith is tested in those circumstances.

Nonetheless, we do them no favours if we will not recognise that their lives are outwith our control, that they belong first and foremost to God, and we cannot control his dealings with them! For some parents, this will entail watching a child walk deliberately away from faith, with no guarantee that they will live to see them return. For others it may be a time of physical or mental suffering, perhaps a broken relationship or failure in some cherished ambition or career path. Even for the child whose path appears to be smooth and secure, there is never any guarantee in our sin-sick world that it will remain so, and nothing can be taken for granted.

So how should I pray? Obviously until they come to personal faith in Christ, our prayer will be that God will be at work to remove the barriers to faith, drawing them to himself, and convincting them of his claim to be lord of their lives. We must accept that the paths they take may not be those we would choose. For as long as they deny Christ as lord, their decisions will not be based on seeking God’s will, and how could we expect otherwise? But they are never further from God than anyone else, no less likely to be reached by His love and power, and so we pray with confidence and trust in His saving grace for their conversion.

And for believing children, I think the most important thing we can pray is that God will be at work by his spirit in their lives to create resilient faith. What do I mean? I mean faith which is strong enough to weather storms, to face darkness and hold fast to God’s promises. The kind of faith which is modelled for us in so many places in the bible, by real people who endured struggle and loss and yet trusted in God. Think of Joseph, all those years in an Egyptian prison; or David, on the run from Saul and wondering if his promised kingship was a daydream; or Esther, who put her life on the line for her people, believing that she was God’s instrument at that moment for their deliverance.

This is the faith which Peter tells his readers is being created in them as they face persecution, and is it not true in our own experience that it is only as we face the reality of our own helplessness that we fully learn to rely on God? Am I modelling that kind of faith for my children? If I am serious about praying for my children – and in fact any disciple of Christ – then I need to pray for their trials and struggles, that they would glorify God in and through them by standing firm in their faith. God never wastes our experiences of trouble if we accept them as opportunities to experience and witness to his grace and perfect goodness in meeting our needs.

May we, and those we love, learn to say with the Psalmist:

Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while I am here in the land of the living.

Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.

(Ps 27. 13&14)

When your place is in the shadows..

Cursed be the day I was born!

Why did I ever come out of the womb to see trouble and sorrow and to end my days in shame?

(Jeremiah 20.14&18)

My splendour is gone and all that I had hoped from the Lord.

(Lamentations 3.18)

The prophet Jeremiah is not perhaps our favourite personality in cast of bible characters. He has a name for gloom, for predicting disaster and generally spoiling the party! It is quite true that much of his writing is filled with warnings of judgement to come, of rebuke to a stubbornly rebellious people from their long-suffering God. Jeremiah spoke the heart of God; a broken heart, a jealous heart, which could no longer hold back the tide of invasion, destruction and exile which would finally destroy the last hold of idolatry from the heart of the people whom He loved.

But do you ever think about the cost which this ministry was to Jeremiah? As you take the time to read his words – both the long prophesy and also the devastating book of Lamenations which follows it – you find a desperate man, bereft of comfort and wrestling with the God who called him to this appalling ministry.

In his words, his grief, anger and despair, I find comfort for my own struggles. Am I the only follower of Jesus who is disappointed with some of the ways that God has chosen to direct their life? Does everyone else really live in the sunlight all the time? I beg to doubt it, and I thank God that in the words of this faithful prophet, we find permission to speak our pain; and comfort that we are not alone in it.

Very few of us are called to such a difficult path as that which faced Jeremiah – and that alone should give us cause to rejoice, and to see that we are greatly blessed to have been spared much pain! The point is that Jeremiah was doing exactly what God had called him to do, and yet his life was incredibly hard and sad. How often do we fall into the trap of thinking that a difficulty or sadness in our lives is a sign that we should be changing something, “fixing it” in any way that seems good to us? I believe this can be a very clever distraction and even a trap for us, by which the devil distracts us from faithful obedience into a fretful dissatisfaction with God, and even outright disobedience.

God is not primarily in the business of making life easy for his children. Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t, because the bible never promises that He will. Instead, we are assured that we will suffer; we are told that the world will hate us for Jesus’ sake; we are reminded that until the coming of the new creation, there will be sin, pain, death and suffering of all kinds. God is in the business of calling his people, of making all things new, and only he can see the full picture of which our lives are a tiny part. He is building a kingdom, making the name of his son known throughout the world and creating disciples. My role in the process will not be clear to me, and indeed I may feel it is completely insignificant if it has any value at all. BUT.. if I am making choices about my life directed by God’s word, desiring always to obey and glorify him then I will be a useful tool in his hand and bring him pleasure through my service.

So, whether it is a job which becomes incredibly difficult and challenging to sustain – seeming to call for qualities which I do not possess – or a relationship which drives me continually to my knees in prayer for strength to go on giving love, forgiving hurt and trusting God for the future; in all and any such callings, I have the example of Jeremiah to draw on in my struggles. What did he do? Over and over again, and often in the midst of a prophecy, he turns to God in his agony and pours it all out. First the pain, the anger of being in such a difficult position; and then his determination to trust God to be good and to be faithful to him.

Heal me , O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me and I shall be saved, for you are the one I praise. 

They keep saying to me, “Where is the word of the Lord? Let it now be fulfilled!” I have not run away from being your shepherd; you know I have not desired the day of despair….do not be a terror to me; you are my refuge in the day of disaster.

(Jeremiah 17.14-16)

May we know and share the faith which allowed Jeremiah to cling to God in the darkness and to continue in faithful submission to the calling which he had received. Our Lord quailed in Gethsemane at the prospect of pain which lay before him, but chose obedience – may we by His strength be enabled to do likewise.

Lonely or solitary?

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thought from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord…

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

(Psalm 139.1-4,7-12)

Do you like being alone? Does the prospect of time without other people present stir up fear, or anticipation? I know that each of us has a natural disposition which will incline us to one or the other, and that is a part of the wonderful variety which makes us all individuals. But I also believe that ultimately none of us need fear being by ourselves… Because as followers of Jesus, we are never truly alone!

The psalmist is well aware of the fact that God sees and knows him through and through, that there is nowhere on the earth that God is not present with him. I am never quite sure whether this is seen as a good or a bad thing! Perhaps there are times when our feelings are in such turmoil, or our consciences so troubled, that we feel we want to hide from God until we get sorted out. But the psalms reveal over and over that the best way to get sorted out, is to be in the presence of God, acknowledging our struggles, our failures, our anger and grief, and allowing the steady, healing and cleansing light of his holiness and love to quieten our spirit. Here is one of many such occasions:

When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your love , O Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.

(Psalm 94. 18 & 19)

This for me is one of the most precious truths of my faith, that in my solitude, I am never alone. I have a perfect companion. I have one who knows my thoughts, who understands my tastes, and who delights to share with me as I experience every moment of life and savour each detail of my days.

I cannot irritate him with my eye for the tiniest details of a leaf or flower; he waits joyfully and patiently while I appreciate the beauties which he has placed for me to enjoy! When my spirit lifts with the majesty of great trees around me, my companion hears my cry of delight and thanksgiving, and rejoices in my pleasure. Did you know that our loving Father loves to be thanked, to see us enjoying what He has made – from the tiniest detail to the most breathtaking panorama? It is one of the greatest pleasures of solitude, to have uninterrupted communion with the one who has made all this beauty, and be able to deliberately share our pleasure with him.

 And in my darkness – whether I have sought it out deliberately, because of weariness or grief; or have been overshadowed by it in spite of my best efforts to remain in the light – I am not alone.. there is nowhere that my Lord cannot reach me, cannot be with me, comforting and holding, his arms ever around me even when mine are too weak to hold on to him.

David spent many days and hours in solitude as a young man – shepherding sheep for his father – and I believe that he learnt then what it was to be loved by a God who was always present. We see from the songs David wrote that he hid nothing from God, whether of grief or joy, frustration and anger, fear and despair, triumph and rejoicing. He knew the presence of God was not simply a special feeling that came and went, but a fact, on which he could rely.

It is a fact on which I rely too, which transforms loneliness into solitude, a precious space shared only with my Lord, where I can be utterly at rest because I am utterly known, accepted and loved. Thanks be to God, who through Jesus his Son, brings us into this most intimate of relationships and gives us peace!

So it’s like this Lord…

If the Lord delights in a man’s way, he makes his steps firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

(Ps 37. 23&24)

As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him..

(Ps 103.13-17)

There is a heaviness which comes on my body and spirit sometimes, not for any obvious reason that I can trace – that would make it more bearable, and somehow reasonable – which seems to leave me numb to the joy of being loved by God, blind to the beauty of his creation and deaf to his love songs. It leaves me in a dark place, vulnerable to storms of emotion and over-sensitive to the ways that life can wound me.

I have learnt that there is no help in trying to drag myself out of this by reason, or by rebuking myself for my weaknesses. All that happens is an increasing sense of guilt and failure, of being bound in a trap. And that is what I believe is really happening at these times. I am – as we all are – a frail human being, with a body and mind which operate so completely as one unit that physical weariness can depress my mood and stifle positive emotions with devastating effect.

What is the follower of Jesus to do in such situations? I find the passages with which I started today’s blog very comforting when I am flat on my emotional face so to speak! The Lord, the God of all power, holiness and wisdom, is also the God who created me, knit me together and knows better than any scientist ever will, just WHY the human machine operates as it does. This great God sees me in my distress and weakness, and what does he do? He has compassion on me, he is gentle with me, understanding and accepting all my distresses and not scolding me for being upset.

I was on duty in our church creche this morning, helping to care for our smallest people, picking them up when they fell over, sharing their exuberant pleasure in noisy toys and bouncing balls, reading stories and holding pencils and crayons as they scribbled all over the colouring page! We are like those little ones in God’s eyes: we wobble, we fall, we are one moment full of joy and the next heart-broken with grief. And what does he do? Like a father, he has compassion on us. We are gathered up into his arms and held, reassured and comforted, kissed and soothed, until the terrors pass, the shock wears off and we are strong enough to be put back on our feet for the next adventure. These children cannot explain their fears and grief, but a loving presence is enough to restore their joy, and so it is with me.

If I scold myself when distressed, rebuking my lack of faith and joy, then I simply add guilt to a toxic bundle of emotions which are keeping me face down in misery. So what I need to do is look up, lift my hands like a little child to the father who is always with me, for his great loving embrace to take me into safety and comfort. He is unchanging, always good, full of tenderness and mercy to me; and he is so much more patient with me than I am with myself! I desire to become holy all in a hurry, to get it all over and done with; but he knows that it is the work of a lifetime, and that steady progress is much deeper and more fruitful than a rapid, superficial transformation.

Let me sit quiet in his arms, remembering his goodness even though my heart is still numb to joy; let me listen to his voice of love and forgiveness, even though my ears can’t thrill to the music of his song; let me look at his beauty and be at rest, even though my eyes seem colour blind. In time, the joy will return, the music will ring out, and the colours will return to the world. For the moment, I can be at peace, trusting in his unchanging power to keep me safe and to ultimately work all things together for good – Praise to his holy name!

In the arms of his love, I find rest; In the arms of his love there’s sweet quietness, nothing can harm me, no reason to fear, safe in the arms of his love…

(Carl & Leanne Albrecht, 1989)