Do Not Shake The Trees

Do Not Shake The Trees

It was steadily pouring rain. I peered hopefully through the windshield of the car at the grey, misty, wet world outside. My husband, Michael, and I were driving several hours to Sydney to meet up with our church family to attend the popular Cherry Blossom Festival, at the Japanese Gardens. Suddenly my phone sang a little trill and I eagerly picked it up to see what the message was. I had received an announcement on our church’s 'Whatsapp' thread; the plans for the garden tour were officially cancelled. I looked at Michael, and in great optimism we discussed the message and then we decided to continue our journey. The weather remained bleak as we drove slowly up to the entrance gates and we were the second car to park. Garden attendants were milling around the entryway in their bright fluorescent  wet weather gear, bored and aimless. In hopeful anticipation of a change in weather, Michael and I balanced our large umbrellas with cameras, coats and warm wooly hats. 

The rain eased slowly and although the walkways were awash with water we enjoyed a pristine world of quiet, refreshing peacefulness. There were no expected crowds of people, jostling and talking excitedly. Sparkling diamond tear drops clung graciously to the ends of petals, leaves and fronds. The scent of rain filled the air as we breathed deeply and the beauty of vivid colours enriched our hearts. We were enveloped by a soothing Asian ambience of delightfulness. Here, on several acres, were recreated in miniature; traditional idealised Japanese landscapes.We beheld the tranquil setting of  a serene lake bordered with walk ways of fine white pebbles,lush gardens, ornamental blossoming trees and a gentle murmuring waterfall. The landscape took in a quaint wooden tea house and charming wooden bridges with splashes of red colour adorning them. In enraptured wonder we slowly made our way around the gardens; stopping frequently to capture each new delight on camera. It was a visual treat of tastefulness and colour. Stone lanterns, bamboo water spouts and koi swimming gracefully in the lake, enthralled us with an oriental atmosphere. 

Blossoming cherry trees adorned the gardens forming an elegant arched walk way in the midst of the balance and poise of natural beauty. Attractively placed trees garnished the grounds, spreading their graceful limbs laden with jewels of pinks and scarlet as they reached cautiously towards the skies. Scattered through out the gardens were signs. The signs read, ‘Do not shake the trees’. Childhood memories of  flowering plum trees came sharply to my mind and the laughter and fun of friends as we shook those trees and watched a flurry of pretty petals come tumbling down around us. The beautiful flowers on those lovely trees were delicately in place, held on by a whisper of hope. The signs were a constant reminder of the vulnerability of each and every colourful flower clinging tenderly to the branches.

All around us in the garden of life are cherry blossoms; people, who although they wear a smile, hide the pain and hurt of quietened tears. In silence they maintain a frail hold on God, on joy and on life. Perhaps you are a blossom. Perhaps I am too. Maybe it’s our children. Faintly clutching to thin strands of light, reaching in hope with uncertainty towards strength, towards love. The signs say ‘Do not shake the trees.’ 

John 13:34 "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.

Eph 4:32 Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.

From Shame to Honour

From Shame to Honour

This is a “once upon a time” fairy tale like story, however it is true. Once upon a time a bouncing, baby girl was born and named Mary Elizabeth. Her Scottish parents adored her and her older sisters and brother, Patricia, Jane and John, hugged and kissed her. The family lived on a  picturesque island called Tasmania, south of the mainland of Australia. She grew as all little Australian girls grew, enjoying an outdoor lifestyle of sports, participating in the active games of basketball and hockey. She added the pleasures  of piano, flute and clarinet lessons to her already full and abundant life. Friends and family and happy activities filled her with the joys of a simple Australian life in the quiet city of Hobart. All too soon the young Mary blossomed into a beautiful, elegant lady and she entered university, and chose to study a Double degree in Commerce and Law. Soon the busyness of work and travel abroad filled her early adult life. 

Then came the year 2000. For every Australian that year was indelibly etched in our memories, for that was the year that Sydney held the Olympics. The fervour of excitement painted the city in a wash of vitality. Olympic fever was at an all time high, and there was a vibrancy of eager expectation as Olympians poured into the bustling city, along with international tourists, world leaders, royalty and Australians from around the country. One of those to journey to Australia was Frederik from Denmark, and although jet lagged, he allowed his Greek cousins to convince him to head out for a night on the town to meet some of the locals. They made their way to the old historic Slip Inn, and there he saw her. Frederik met Mary for the first time. 

It was love at first sight. Frederik described it this way, “If you had to visualise it, it was like a summer landscape in moonlight. Still water in a pond - evocative - there is a surface, but also depth. Harmony and tranquility and lots of kindness and beauty.” Frederick was smitten. However, Frederick was no ordinary  handsome young man from a Nordic country. He was the Crown Prince, heir apparent to the royal throne of Denmark. The Prince had fallen in  love with a commoner. It became a love story that all romantic fairy tales are made of. Three years later, in Rome, on bended knee, Prince Frederik proposed to his beloved Mary, presenting her with a stunning engagement ring featuring an emerald-cut diamond and two emerald-cut ruby baguettes.The noble Danish court announced that Queen Margrethe II  had given her consent. On May 4th, 2004, a regal wedding of dazzling splendour and pageantry took Mary Donaldson, a commoner, to the position of Crown Princess Mary, one day to become Queen Consort of Denmark.The hearts of Australians were filled with adoration for our honourable Princess and her Princely husband. We have joyed in the delights of the pitter patter of royal feet at Brockdorff's Palace in Copenhagen, as the births of Prince Christian, Princess Isabella and the young twins Prince Vincent and Princess Josephine add to their parent’s dream like story. Prince Frederik and Princess Mary continue to live happily ever after. 

A commoner becomes a princess. The ordinary becomes honoured. It isn’t just a fair tale like story. It is also the story of salvation. Our holy King takes us, the guilty and the shamed by sin, and invests us with honour in heavenly places. He is smitten, and He longs to bring us to palaces on high to reign with Him forever. Me, of lowly reputation, becomes the bride of my godly King. I am taken from the degradation of the sinner to the heights of distinction. Salvation, an exchange of my rags to the dignity of a garment of righteousness, through the forgiveness of sins and the gift of eternal life. We all warm to  a “happy ever after love story” because it is a reflection of the deepest yearnings of our own heart for a life and a love outside of this world of sin and shame. This story can be your story. This story can be mine. Will we say “I do”?

Isa 54:4,5 "Fear not, for you will not be put to shame; And do not feel humiliated, for you will not be disgraced; But you will forget the shame of your youth.… For your husband is your Maker, Whose name is the LORD of hosts; And your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel, Who is called the God of all the earth.”

Matt 22:2 "The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son.

Rev 19:7 Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.

Leaning on Jesus

Leaning on Jesus

It was late winter in Australia and the excitement of approaching spring escalated with a trip to the local nursery. There I stood gazing in wonder at the metal racks filled with packages of seeds. Bright pictures of the hopeful fruit to be achieved from the seeds, adorned the outside of the packets. My mind tumbled with dreams and plans as I enthusiastically worked out my purchases. Armed with many different packets and several heavy bags of seed raising mix, I headed home to start the planting. Across our large, wooden kitchen table I sorted out the paper packages, placing the right amount of plastic containers  next to each one. I had tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, beetroot, cabbage, corn, zucchini and many more all vying for a place on my table. Outside, on a round plastic table, I had the seed raising mixture, scissors and a spoon all ready for the next stage in the project. I carried a packet and selected containers to the table outside, spooning the damp dirt into each punnet. Then I snipped open the package cautiously, and tipped tiny seeds into the palm of my hand. Each seed I placed lovingly and tenderly into the dirt, covering them over and with a spray of water, I carefully moistened the soil. Finally the seeds were all tucked away soundly under their blanket of earth. I placed the trays of planted seeds by the large glass window at the back of our house where the warm winter sun streamed brightly in each day and where they were kept snugly warm by the fire at night.

The thought of the fresh, home grown snow peas, slightly fried with garlic and soy sauce made my mouth water, so I chose to grow the pods. The seeds were large and round like faded dried peas. Within days after being attentively planted and lovingly cared for, tiny green shoots appeared. With in a week, two little leaves adorned each sprout and with all the tenderness of a mother watching over her baby, I continued to nurture their growth. Soon the seedlings were several inches tall and crowding their container with life.Fresh new leaves adorned their vigorous upward growth and tiny fine tendrils started their horizontal journey. Before long a congested growth of snow peas over flowed their punnetts, while their long thin tendrils reached, twisted and twirled their way around their cramped neighbours. My snow peas were growing and leaning haphazardly on each other for support. They would never reach their full potential in such a state. It was certainly time to transplant them into the outdoor bed I had prepared for them, with a sturdy trellis ready for them to climb on. Separating the seedlings was an arduous job, as I broke tendrils and tried to carefully identify each individual plant. Finally, they were planted, detached from each other, and spaced evenly apart  by the framed trellis. Soon their tiny tendrils reached and curled and entwined themselves around the climbing trellis. Higher and higher they grew under the gentle, warming sun. Milky white flowers embellished the plants with the promise of pods to come as they gained strength and height, clinging tenaciously onto the netting on the frame. Days turned into weeks and with the weeks came the development  of the long ,bright green, snow pea pods, ready to harvest and enjoy.

The growth of the snow peas brought to my mind the growth God desires to see in me. I naturally desire to stay snugly in my container, surrounded by others of whom I can lean on, connect with, and entwine my life around. We are all concerned about what people think of us, our reputations. We all desire to please people, to be liked, to receive their approval. We hand others the control over our lives as we wrap our lives around them. We lean on each other, comparing ourselves among ourselves, needing love and feeling empty. We become like the snow peas, over crowded and cluttered in their containers. Tendrils that God created to support our growth upward on a strong solid frame of Jesus, we use to mingle ourselves around each other in a mass of co-dependency. God’s plan is for us to mature and flourish individually, to fulfil His purpose in our lives, to lean on His strength and develop the fruit of the Spirit. Today I am challenged to seek God and His glory first and to weave my life around Him.

John 12:42, 43 “The Pharisees …. loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God.”

John 5:44 “How can you believe, if you accept praise from one another and don't seek the praise that comes from the only God?”

Matt 22:37 Jesus said unto him, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.

Photobombed

Photobombed

Photobombing is an indiscriminate, unexpected appearance of another person who ends up in your photo, just as the picture is being taken. I go to a church that is part of an active, on campus university ministry and  we have many vibrant and enthusiastic youth that attend. We have lots of laughter and much fun with photobombing. There are the photos of happy best friends smiling sweetly together while a photo bomber leaps, mouth gaping, across the background. There are the group photos with everyone in orderly place when suddenly, just at the last moment, a person throws himself in horizontal position in front of the group, giving at times an illusion of flying. People jumping excitedly, pulling comical faces, waving arms and smiling cheekily all make random entrances into photos Photobombing can bring lots of laughter and cherished memories. 

Recently in Australia a photobombed picture went viral and even claimed world wide exposure. As part of the British Commonwealth, Australia participated at the Commonwealth Games held in Glasgow. The Queen was intently watching the Australian hockey team, known as the Hockeyroos, record a win of 4-0 over Malaysia. After the game Hockeyroos players, Jayde Taylor and Brooke Peris, whipped out their phones in an attempt to get a selfie as the Queen walked past in the background. The girls seemed to have it staged when  Queen Elizabeth appeared to stop and smile behind them as they snapped the picture.

For me the funniest and most random of all photobombing was done by a giraffe. I was at Sydney Taronga Zoo with my best friend, Lisa. She was nicely positioned by the giraffe enclosure to have her photo taken while a giraffe grazed serenely in the background. His elongated neck was stretched as he reached high into the wire basket above, using his long cobalt tongue to deftly grasp the lucerne and pull it into his mouth. I took the photo when all of a sudden there appeared a younger giraffe behind Lisa seemingly to deliberately photobomb. I asked Lisa to stay where she was and I kept taking photos. I was laughing so much. The giraffe was pulling “giraffe necks”. He would twist his neck this way or that way in such funny poses as he sauntered past. Back and forth he ambled, and with each passing was a new antic. 

 How often are we going through our busy day taking snap shots in time with our minds only to stop at the end of the day and realise God was there in the background at each and every moment? God is a photobomber in our lives. He is never random, always deliberate and always within view, whether we realise it or not. He is standing there in each and every frame of life, always present and never absent. Do we see Him? Do we recognise Him? Yet this is not who God wants to be. He wants to be in the selfie beside us, loved and adored simply because He loves and adores us first. He desires our friendship, He longs to enjoy close connection with us. Do I choose today to allow Jesus to be in my selfie, loved and smiling beside me?

John 15:15 I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.

James 4:8 Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you