Out of Focus

What’s wrong with it? I tried again and again. My camera just wouldn’t take the photo even though I had it aimed and I was pressing the button, over and over. I looked closely at it. Suddenly the photo took and I had a blurred print of the patterned carpet in the church. I had received a new camera for Christmas. It is my first introduction to DSLR cameras and I had no comprehension, yet, of the manual settings.Someone kindly fixed that problem for me, the camera timer had been set, but alas I had another equally disappointing problem. Now I discovered the camera wouldn’t focus. No matter what I did, as soon as I would zoom in the photo was blurred. What was wrong this time? My daughter, who had studied a class in photography at university, had borrowed my camera through the week, changed the settings, taken some photos and had not returned the settings  back to my familiar automatic ones. I was totally lost. Nearly all my photos for that day were blurred, ever so slightly, until someone noticed my camera was not set to Automatic Focus. A flick of the switch and instantly my photos were crystal clear. I breathed a sigh of relief as I gained some new knowledge of my camera that day.

I can come to the Bible in much the same way. I can focus on the history of the Bible, the beauty of the language, the factual information or the texts to be used in debate, to prove my point, but I receive only a blurred picture of Jesus. My focus can be out. To truly see Jesus in the full clearness and clarity I need to aim my attention and focus on Him. I need to pray for the Spirit to show me the wonders of Jesus in every page of the Bible and within the facts, the language, the history and the stories. Focus on Jesus today and see Him in all His fullness of beauty, purity and clearness as you open God’s Word.

John 12:21 “…we want to see Jesus.”

Heb 12:2  “We must focus on Jesus, the source and goal of our faith"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0jpHtsSEQo

Come Just as You Are

Come Just As You Are

BANG! BANG! BANG! There was loud, insistent knocking at the front door early one Sunday morning as my friend was just emerging from bed. Sleepily, while still in her pyjamas, she traipsed to the door as the knocking grew only more intense. As she opened the door, there stood several of her friends enthusiastically yelling, “Surprise!!!! You have been invited to ‘a-come-as-you-are’ party!”. In her groggy state, my friend’s mind tried to register what the excitement was exactly all about. As everyone hastily jumbled their words over everyone else, the realisation slowly dawned on her that she was invited to a party and all the guests were to wear exactly what they were wearing at the moment of their invitation, which for her meant attending a party in her night wear. There was eventually much laughter and fun as my friend did go to the party in her pyjamas and she found all friends attending in either similar attire or sports uniforms, work uniforms , swimmers, evening wear, gym apparel or casual at home clothing. 

Jesus invites us to “come as we are” to Him and He will receive us. It is not about our clothing like at my friend’s party, but it is about our hearts, who we are inside. So often we hang our heads in shame, thinking that somehow we need to do better, act more appropriately, or be good enough to come to Him. Jesus asks us to do none of those things. When we come to Him, just as we are, He loves us and then works in our lives to take us from where we are, to who we can become in Him. Come to Jesus, just as you are and allow Him to do an amazing work in your life today. 

Matt 11:28 "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.

Rev 22:17 The Spirit and the bride say, "Come!" And let the one who hears say, "Come!" Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pzgH5S_mDXg

Foxes in the Vineyard

Foxes in the Vineyard

THUD! CRUNCH! Nooooooooooooo! We were on a lonely, dark country road and driving at the speed limit of 100km/hr when we hit it. A red fox had suddenly appeared on the road, it’s eyes glowing in our car headlights. It stopped mesmerised. My husband swerved slightly to avoid colliding with the stationary fox, but it panicked and dashed back towards the direction we had swerved. We hit it hard. It’s poor little body shattered instantly to pieces under the left side of the bumper bar of our car. The bumper cracked, lights broke and over $1000 worth of damage occurred but we were safe and the car was still able to be driven.

I was tempted to feel so discouraged. Insurance covered the damage but the insurance excess we needed to pay was $650. A sum of money we couldn’t really afford to part with. I was tempted to lose my joy in the Lord. The Bible talks about foxes and grape vines. Jesus is the grape vine and we live a connected life to Him like a branch to the vine. The foxes in the bible were running through the vineyard spoiling the young vines that were in flower, damaging the branches. Do you sometimes feel discouraged , your losing your joy and things just seem to be going wrong? Are there “foxes” in your life trying to disconnect you from the vine, knocking the flowers out of your life that will produce the fruit of joy, love and peace within? Look to Jesus. He will deal with the “foxes” in your life. Stay connected to Him.

Song of Sol 2:15 "Catch the foxes for us, The little foxes that are ruining the vineyards, While our vineyards are in blossom."

John 15:5 I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-vSGoJtB0M&feature=youtu.be

Heir Apparent

Heir Apparent

On June 23rd, 1894, heir apparent, Prince Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David was born. His parents, the Duke and Duchess of York were later to become King George V and Queen Mary. He was the great grandson of the then reigning Queen Victoria and in direct line for the royal throne, thus at his birth he was immediately titled Highness Prince Edward of York. His upbringing was carefully calculated to train the young Prince Edward to one day reign as King over the United Kingdom. He was educated at home with with strict tutorship, which included tutors in French and German. At 16 his father ascended the throne bringing Prince Edward closer his own regal reign. He was invested as Prince of Wales  at a special ceremony and preparations began in earnest for his role as future king. His studies included training at the Royal Naval College and Magdalen College, Oxford. Throughout the 1920’s Prince Edward represented his father, King George V at home and abroad, on many occasions. He undertook sixteen royal tours of the British Empire between 1919 and 1935. Finally, after many years of exacting training, Prince Edward was proclaimed King Edward VIII upon the death of his father, on January 20 1936. However, a crisis in the royal family and the government of Britain occurred, when King Edward VIII fell romantically in love with a divorced American socialite named Wallis Simpson. As the head of the Church of England, King Edward could not marry a divorced woman, whose former two husbands were still alive. In December 1936 King Edward chose to abdicate the throne of England to marry the woman he loved.

King Edward’s choice to abdicate thrust his younger brother, Prince Albert, suddenly into the limelight and without a life time of preparations, to be crowned the next reigning Monarch. Prince Albert was born in 1895. He was not raised to take the royal throne. He was known as “Bertie”. He wore leg braces as a child to correct his knock knees. Naturally left handed he had been forced to write with his right hand. He was often ill and easily frightened and prone to tears and tantrums.At 8 years of age he developed a stammer which was to plague him for the rest of his life. Although Prince Albert was trained in the Royal Navy Academy, he finished at the bottom of his class. He was shy and awkward. Upon reacquainting himself with beautiful Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, he was smitten. After twice refusing the Prince’s marriage proposals, Elizabeth finally agreed and they were married in 1923. The quiet unobtrusive couple completed their family with the birth of two daughters, Elizabeth and Margaret. Then with a sudden unexpected twist of events this young family were thrown into the public eye and prominence as the untrained and ill prepared, Bertie, now Prince Albert became coronated King George VI.

King George VI was a conscientious and dedicated King and he worked extremely hard and tirelessly for his people. WWII found him greatly beloved by the nation as he refused to leave the palace for safety, choosing to stay and suffer with his people. He developed a close working relationship with Winston Churchill, war time prime minister of England. He greatly strengthened the link between King and people during the war and he went on to successfully reign until his death in 1952. Churchill placed a wreath at the King’s funeral, with the simple words written thereon, “For Valour”.

King George VI and the Queen standing among the bombed ruins of Buckingham Palace

What made a shy, ill prepared, untrained, quiet, retiring man become a courageous, dedicated and conscientious man? He had not been raised to be the King. He had received no special instruction, disciple or preparation. Upon his coronation he became King George VI. He knew who he was and what his role was and the purpose of life. He rose to the occasion, gained wisdom from leaders around him and nobly served his country and Kingdom. 

I was born not knowing that my future destiny would one day  be a regal one. I had no idea of my true purpose. As I accepted Christ as my Saviour I suddenly became an heir apparent. I was ill prepared for my new role. I am to one day reign with Christ. I have a royal destiny which starts today. Do I know my identity, my role in Christ and my purpose in life? Christ sends His Spirit to prepare me “rise to the occasion”, to gain wisdom, courage and to enable me to nobly serve the Kingdom of God. Who am I? I am a daughter of the King, heir apparent. Who are you? Will I step into God’s purpose for my life? Will you?

Rev 5:10 And have made us to our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth.

Rev 1:6 And has made us kings and priests to God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.

John 17:4 "I glorified You on the earth, having accomplished the work which You have given Me to do

1 Cor 10:31 Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

The Legacy

The Legacy

As a child I was very close to my half German, non practicing Catholic grandfather. I spent many school holidays staying with my grandparents, and my mind is filled with treasured memories of happy times. My grandfather built a cubby house for my cousin, Michael, and I to play in and he supplied us with cups and saucers and household items to furnish it. He filled the house up with an aroma of deletable scents as I hovered over him, as he cooked in the kitchen.  His skills from the days of owning a restaurant by the wharves, were still apparent. He played pool and snooker with me on his large billiard table, teaching me all he thought I should know. Then we sat together in comfort and watched the professionals play on television. He had fought in World War II against Japan in the dense jungles of hot and humid Papua New Guinea. Being born in 1903 meant he was well over the age of conscription when the war broke out. Fighting against his mother’s own country men in Europe wasn’t a decision he was to make, however, with Australia being threatened by the Japanese and the presence of the enemy submarines on our beautiful coastlines, he made a choice. He chose to fight for the freedom of his children, and for the freedom of his yet to be born grandchildren, of whom  I was one of them. My love for him was deep and my appreciation for the gift of freedom his sacrifice gave to me, will be present always in my heart. My grandfather died at 81, when I was 19 years of age. I sobbed my way through the funeral, as I gazed at the wooden coffin draped with an Australian flag. “The Last Post” was mournfully played on a solo trumpet and my grandfather was gone, my mind a myriad of coloured memories of happiness.

The years passed and I married the love of my life and we filled our home with the joy and laughter of three precious and beautiful daughters. I missed my grandfather so much. I cherished the life of my aging grandmother even more, until one day, she too, sadly passed away. It was then and only then I discovered that many years previous, my grandfather had saved something small and something special for his great grandchildren, which included my three girls. He had saved a collection of round fifty cent Australian coins, one for each of his great grandchildren, who at the time of his death were mostly still unborn. These had never been bequeathed to the great grandchildren, as one by one of them had been born. Instead they had remained with my grandmother until her death brought to light the collection of coins and who they were to be given to.

On February 14, 1966 Australia introduced decimal currency. Up until that time we had had an evolving history of currency based on the old British Sterling System of pounds, shillings and pence. We were to now have dollars and cents and the new coinage was based on bronze and silver. The largest denomination coin produced, was the ‘round silver fifty’. The Royal Australian mint in 1966 rolled out over 36 million ‘round silver fifties’, thus the coins are not rare. One side had the embossed impression of our Queen Elizabeth II, with the Australian coat of arms on the reverse side. The coins were struck in 80% silver and with the rising cost of silver the Australian government was soon losing money on it’s coin production. Within a year the manufacture ceased as the coins became much more valuable than fifty cents. Eventually, after the withdrawal of minting the ‘round silver fifties’, the Royal Australian mint, in 1969, started producing a twelve sided fifty cent coin made from copper and nickel, a coin we still have today.

My girls, many years after the death of their great grandfather, whom they had never known or met received a legacy from him. They each received a silver, round fifty cent coin. They received their gift from a man who had thought of them long before they were born. A man who wished to give to them a special treasure. As a Christian I often wonder about the legacy I have been given. In my hands I hold a Bible. Its pages filled with English words that come to me through the hardship, the self sacrifice, the time, the energy, the thoughtful care and even of the life and freedom itself of those who have gone before me. My Bible is a legacy of many who desired to bequeath to me the Word of the Living God. Do I treasure it? Do I recognise it’s true value? Do I open it’s pages in wonder and delight at the priceless Words of Life before me? I pick up my Bible and wonder at it’s hidden treasures of wealth and I thank God for those who went before me, who kept the Word of God for me, that I may read and live. Will I cherish my bible and with joy spend time reading it each day as  did those who have gone before me, and who  gave so much that I may be able to read it?

John Wycliffe translating  and handwriting the Bible into English

An original handwritten English Bible

Heb 12:1 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us

Rom 10:17 So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.

Matt 4:4 Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"

Shipwrecked

Shipwrecked

I live inland from a small, coastal city in Australia called Newcastle. Newcastle is the world’s leading coal exporter and Australia’s largest bulk shipping port.In the regions surrounding Newcastle are coal mines. Every day, many times a day, I can hear in the distance, the coal trains with their many carriages, heading laboriously from the mines, to the Newcastle shipping terminal. Here the coal is loaded into the hulls of huge bulk carriers around 730 feet long ( 225m) and then it is exported around the world. Each day, from the sandy coastlines of Newcastle can be seen patiently moored on the horizon , for mile after mile, coal carriers, waiting for weeks at a time, for their turn to enter the port. From around the world they sit, their hulls filled with water to help act as ballast, ready to be pumped out as they head to the terminal for the coal. Not all the ships are coal ships. There are twenty five different exported items which attract 4,600 ships a year. On any given day, when relaxing by the foreshore, one can be sure to be able to relish the grandeur of a large cargo ship being taken slowly to the terminal.

I enjoy walking along the breakwater wall, with the sea wind in my face and the waves crashing up against the rocks. From here I delight in watching the small tug boats heading through the turquoise channel, out to the next bulk carrier, to guide it safely into port. The ships tower over their small companions, but their safety in the water passage relies completely on following the instructions at all times, as they are gently guided in the shallow waters. I never tire of watching the colossal ships sail quietly by. They have a rare beauty all of their own.

On the 8th of June 2007, the Newcastle Port Corporation radioed the fifty six large ships moored out in the open ocean, warning them of an approaching winter storm and advising them to head further out to sea. Sitting patiently in the Australian waters was the Pasha Bulker, a massive carrier from Japan. It was waiting to load 58, 000 tonnes of black coal. They decided to not heed the warning and remained close to the shore as the storm hit with relentless fury. The sea swell lifted the carrier and hurtled it towards the beach. The crew never radioed for the help of the tug boats, they never placed their anchors down deep and the engine room was fully operational at the time. The strength of the sea propelled the massive ship in the direction of the shore causing both the bow and the stern to lodge immovably into the sand. The coal carrier became trapped between the sandy beach and the rocky reef. The twenty two Filipino and Korean crew members on board were successfully rescued by a helicopter and there sat the Pasha Bulker, grounded and now presenting an almost unsolveable dilemma. The month of June,  while the ship just rested, much excitement was created for the Newcastle region. The ship had become a sudden tourist attraction. There, just metres out to sea from a popular beach was a mammoth cargo carrier. People came from many miles away to view the site, to take photos and gaze at the wonder. Entrepreneurial enterprises sprang up selling t-shirts, mugs and other items precipitating a small economic boom. The local radio station rewrote a popular song, calling it “Blame it on the Pasha Bulker”. Eventually, on July the 2nd, after two previous unsuccessful attempts, the Pasha Bulker was finally refloated, assessed for damage and towed back to Japan for repairs.

As we sail the sea of life we know there are many unpredictable storms ahead. Do I choose to sail it alone, not take heed of the warnings, think I can get through whatever  storms lie ahead by myself? Do I feel I have a great support system that will see me through the rough seas of future days? Am I confident in myself and my abilities? None of us knows what lies ahead. In a single day our lives can suddenly change dramatically. Our only surety and safety lies completely with God. Only He knows what lies ahead and He is fully prepared at all times. Nothing takes Him by surprise. He knows what we will face. Can I trust myself to His safe care? Can I give myself entirely to Him, knowing He can hold me through each storm and bring me safely through it ? Will I make Him my surety today? 

Psalm 107:28-30 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, And He brought them out of their distresses. He caused the storm to be still, So that the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they were quiet, So He guided them to their desired haven.

Matthew 8:26 He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

The Moveable Gate

The Moveable Gate

Emma is  a fluffy, white, papillon cross maltese dog.She is soft and gentle, loving and kind and she lives comfortably inside our house. She has her very favourite places to sleep. She enjoys napping contentedly on any of our cosy floral lounge chairs, raising her head occasionally to bark at some sound in the distance, before lowering it again and continuing to sleep. Her most enjoyable place to doze peacefully, is on my bed. She loves to lie with her head on her paws, across the bed, gazing contentedly through the large floor to ceiling window, at the world going by outside. She trots cheerfully between her most beloved places to slumber, interspersing her naps with loyally following me around the house as I work. Each evening she squeezes into the small gap on the recliner between myself and the chair, in utter perfect bliss, as we all spend the evening together. Then comes the highlight of her day as she gets to snuggle closely with me on my warm, comfy bed, as I am restfully reading. Finally, Emma ends each day with a downcast dejected and most miserable look, as my husband takes her to the laundry, to sleep on her colourful doggy blanket for the night.

Then came the day when her routine was dramatically impacted. It was time to repaint the bedroom, replace the wallpaper border and freshen the entire room up with new bedding and lovely bedside lamps. Over a week or more, I worked diligently, painting the ceiling in cream, cleaning down the walls, applying the first coat of candy pink paint and then the second. The feature wall had two different colours, the blush of pink was separated from a baby blue, with a colourful wall paper border of bright butterflies. Our ceiling fan was replaced with a new working one, faded curtains were removed and fresh new ones were bought excitedly and hung. Bedside lamps in fuchsia cast a haze of pink around the room. A beautiful new quilt cover tied the colours of the room all together perfectly.The cover  was snow white with bright splashes of colourful flowers in hot pink, blue, yellow and orange, with a dash of brilliant green leaves. I love pink, and thankfully my husband does too,  and the pretty warmth of it’s colour echoed around the room, bring me much delight. However, looking down at Emma filled me with dismay. I did not want her sleeping through the day on my beautiful new bedding. We could give her a special doggy blanket at night but during the day we longed to enjoy the quilt cover, dogless.

We decided on a plan of action to retrain Emma’s sleeping arrangements. We pulled an old wooden baby gate out of the shed and secured it to the doorway of our bedroom. Every day, every hour of every day, and moment by moment, Emma paddled wearily up the hallway and stood there staring in abject misery at the gate. Surely that gate had to disappear. It could not remain there, or so she thought. After a week of wearing the carpet thinner, Emma settled to checking on the gate’s presence only several times a day, until finally she accepted the new situation. The new habit was established. My husband and I had been stepping over this gate, swinging our legs up and over as we came and went. I had managed to bruise myself on the door frame and Michael had walked into the gate in the dark. It was time to take the gate down. Within moments of removing the baby gate, Emma was happily ensconced on the bed once more, this time with a look of guilt at being caught. This wasn’t going to work. Plan B was rolled out into action.Now we just leaned the baby gate against the door frame instead. We could easily remove it whenever we wanted to walk in or out. Now that Emma understood that this barrier was not permanent and could be shifted, her vigilance increased as she waited for that moment of neglect when the gate would be forgotten by me. Today, months later she still paces up and down the hallway, looking hopefully at that barricade. She can still be caught sneaking cunningly into my room at any given opportunity. The seemingly indecisive boundary allows my dog to live with the thought that this really isn’t a boundary. 

Just as we placed a boundary with our dog, so too God places boundaries in our lives and He asks us to reflect His image of love and put boundaries in place with others. Are we decisively kind and respectfully open in our communication with others when we need to say no, or we need to place limits on another? Do we seek to please others so much, fearing their rejection or displeasure that we become  enablers, with boundaries that are moveable, opening the way for the other  person to be controlling, thoughtless or disrespectful towards us? Boundaries produce healthy relationships. They clearly define who I am and who the other person is and how that relationship is to function. Healthy boundaries allow trust and security to develop in a relationship. God calls me to love others how He has loved me. Will I do that? Will I allow Him to work in me to step out of people pleasing and step into loving and truthful communication? Will you?

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.”

Matt 5:37 “But let your communication be, Yes, yes; No, no”

Eph 4: 25 “Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.”

Eph 4:15 speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ

The Taste Test

The Taste Test 

To go grocery shopping when I was child was an expedition in itself. My parents owned no car and they lived a long walk up two hills to the nearest railway station, where a train had to be caught to reach the supermarket. There was no shopping centre complex, just rows of limited shops along a few quiet streets. My mother had four very hungry, growing children to feed and dragging groceries home was a task in itself. My father, of farming background, kept our home vegetable garden flourishing. The milk man delivered creamy, white milk every morning in glass bottles and the bread man delivered  loaves of fresh bread wrapped in waxed paper, each afternoon. Every two weeks my mother would walk those hills, originally dirt roads and pushing babies in prams, to the railway station. She would then take the train ride in old faded red, clattering carriages, dragging a small shopping trolley bag on wheels, behind her, to where the shops were. The supermarket offered a home delivery service. My mother brought home what she could haul and the rest would be delivered later in the day. There was no ducking into the shops for last minute items. This was a calculated, well thought out fortnightly trip into town. If something was forgotten, there was no returning to retrieve it.

My father is a celiac and and when I was a child he had no access to the large range of gluten free products that are available today. Most of our breakfast cereals were wheat or gluten based. However, the one cereal available that he could enjoy was corn flakes. My mother was a stay at home, loving wife and mother, and breakfast time in our house found my mother awake before the rest of the family, preparing the meal and packing lunches for a ravenous mob of kids and their father. Each morning my father would sit at the set table, his breakfast brought to him and  he would enjoy his meal. He always started with corn flakes. There were only two brand of corn flakes available. My father was convinced one brand tasted delicious and the other brand tasted like cardboard. The rest of the family was not so convinced. 

Then the day came. The supermarket shelf was empty of the cornflakes my father loved to devour each breakfast. The only box of cornflakes available was the brand my father did not like at all. My mother took her chances and grabbed the unwanted brand. There was no ability to exchange them at a later date, no opportunity to return easily to the shops to buy the right brand  over the next few weeks. It was this or nothing. She opted for this. When she came home she lamented to me how much my father did not like this brand at all and she had no idea how this would work out. However, I hatched a plan that I knew would be infallible. I rarely ate cornflakes of either brand but to me they tasted exactly the same. There was no difference. The plan was simple. Using the outer  box packaging of the favoured brand, we inserted the plastic bag containing the cornflakes from the disliked brand. I was convinced he would just assume the cornflakes were his beloved brand and all would be well. The next morning I was at the table early and out of the corner of my eye I watched to see the flawless exchange programme work beautifully. My father picked up the box of cornflakes and liberally poured them into his bowl, grabbing hungrily at a few flakes here and there to nibble on, before he trickled the milk over them. He paused, chewing thoughtfully and slowly. He sampled a few more cornflakes. He picked up the box and gazed at it and opened the flap peering inside. He knew something didn’t taste the same. I could barely contain myself and as he spoke up, I started to laugh, so did my Mother and he heartily  joined in. He could easily pick the taste difference in the two brands of cornflakes. 

The Bible tells me to “taste and see that the LORD is good” ( Ps 34:8). Do I know God so well that I can pick the “taste” of a false gospel? Have you ever been tempted to feel like the Lord is not good, that maybe He is mean, or teaching you a lesson ( pointed finger waving)  or you question why a situation worked out the way it did? Do you ever feel like maybe He can’t really be trusted, that you have to sort things out yourself with just a hurried prayer of blessing over your own plans? Do I ever perceive God like this? Maybe I don’t want to say that thought out loud but deep in my heart I can feel it. God is calling me to really taste the difference. To know for myself that He is good and only always good. That He can be trusted. God wants me to know Him so intimately that when satan whispers the slightest breath of tainted murmurings, I will be able to pick the false gospel from the true. Can you taste the difference? Can I? We can know that the Lord is good.

1 Peter 2:3 “…you have tasted that the Lord is gracious”

Heb 6:4, 5 “…and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come”

1 Chron 16:34 “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.”

Planting the Flag

Planting the Flag

I stood there watching the British flag, the Union Jack, being raised on a white wooden flag pole, while the National anthem, “God Save the King”, was gustily sung. The stoic soldiers in their red coats stood at a stiff salute, while onlookers all solemnly watched the event. It was January 26 and I was at a re-enactment during the Australia Day celebrations. This day in our history the first fleet of eleven tall ships, sent out by Britain, eight months previously, arrived wearily in Sydney Cove. Under the command of Captain Phillip they had departed to establish a penal colony and  to take possession of the land in the name of King George III.

I enjoyed a happy day of celebrations. People were waving the Australian flag, many were dressed up with t-shirts or hats or some fun regalia all depicting our flag. It was a warm summer’s day and we were by the sea shore with many, enjoying the sparkling water. Events on the stage were taking place all through the day from Australian folk songs, citizenship ceremonies to aboriginal dances and music. Food, craft and market stalls were cheerily set up, while children's rides and jumping castles added to the festive mood. Traditional wood working, leather, knitting and sewing skills from long ago were being demonstrated by those in period costume. An all time, well loved Australian sporting event, the wood chop, was busily going through rounds of competitions. Re-enactments took place as the wooden stocks were manned by British soldiers, the old cannon was being fired with ceremony and the soldiers guns discharged in noisy blasts and loud commands.

In all the festivities and fun my mind thought of the hardships that first fleet of convicts endured, the long sea voyage and the arrival in a strange land. In 1770 Captain James Cook had navigated the east coast of Australia and claimed the land for a British Colony. Other nations had their attentive eyes on the land Down Under. Just days before Britain took possession of the the land, two French ships were sailing out of the  bay, south of Sydney, as the First Fleet were sailing in. Over several previous centuries, explorers from Holland, Portugal, Spain and France had all set their sights on the continent in the southern seas. However, on January 26, 1788 small wooden row boats were lowered into the calm waters of Sydney Cove. Captain Phillip, a few dozen marines, officers and oarsmen clambered down the rope ladders and into the those boats. They rowed ashore and stepped onto Australian soil. It was here that they planted the British flag, saluted and took possession of Australia on behalf of King George III. Australia was officially a British colony.

Territories for centuries and millennia have been fought over, challenged, grasped, conquered and ruled. The planting of a simple flag is a recognised and declared ownership. God tells us in His Word that “The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him” ( Ps 24:1). However, we know that the enemy is “roaming about on the earth and walking around on it.” ( Job 1:7) “Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” ( 1 Peter 5:8 ). Have you ever had those times you just felt like a tsunami of troubles and problems was hitting you? Day after day, trial after trial, with barely a moment to breath between one crises after another? Do you feel emotionally drained, worn down, run down and you wonder if you can go on? Satan seeks to claim us as his own. He is there to “steal and kill and destroy” ( John 10:10) our joy, our eternal life and our happiness. Yet God will raise up His flag and plant it over you. He will claim His ownership of you, “and they shall be mine”, says God ( Mal 3:17) The next time you feel swamped and knocked down and overwhelmed look to Jesus. Look for His flag. Look for His ownership over you. Do you belong to Him? Do I?

Isa 59:19 “When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him.”

Song of Solomon 2:4 “..And his banner over me is love.”

Ps 60:4 “You have given a banner to those who fear You, That it may be displayed because of the truth.”

From Trash to Treasure

From Trash to Treasure

My childish eyes glistened at the treasures before them. My best friend, Greg, and I had energetically peddled our bikes for countless miles, following the old highway, to the local rubbish tip. Sprawled over  many acres were various organised piles of unwanted junk,  household garbage, and randomly assorted trash. It looked like a gold mine to my eyes. The stench was slightly bearable. The entry booth was manned by a friendly bloke and we were in. We picked our way amongst the rubbish looking for those solitary, amazing items that only we could see the value in. My gleanings that day made me the happy owner of a large swatch of colourful woollen blanket samples. Tugging and pulling and lugging it on the back of my bike, I was able to bring it home and turn my precious junk into a treasure of doll’s blankets. As I grew up my interest in the rubbish tip waned considerably and I lost my capacity to see the wonders in the discarded trash.

Then I married Michael. His ability to see worth in the most random of indescribable objects is incredible. His backyard shed is full of stuff which is totally unidentifiable to me; from nuts, bolts, screws,  and tools to bits and pieces, just picked up here or there. Some of the local areas near by have a road side council pick up service for household junk, several times a year. Michael is in his element.  There is always something to be found and something to be hoarded. The positive upside to all this squirrelling is the astonishing way Michael has, in always being able to produce just the right “thingamabob” to fix any household problem at any time.

One day, early in our marriage, Michael, a gardener, took a load of rubbish to the tip. As he pulled the unwanted items off the back of his work ute and hurled them hastily onto the nearby pile, he spied an old forsaken dressing table. It had seen better days. It’s wood was dull and faded, the mirror had long since lost the silver backing and was an old unusable piece of speckled glass. The drawer handles were rusted. It looked weathered and worn. It lay forlornly in the pile neglected and unwanted. It was now trash, but in Michael’s eyes it was a treasure. He could see it’s value. In his mind he pictured all it could become. Seizing the opportunity, Michael hauled the old dressing table from the pile and secured it onto the back of his ute and enthusiastically brought it to his workshop. Carefully he worked, night after night. Michael lightly sanded back the old wood, re-stained the timber with a deep walnut and lacquered it, giving it a rich sheen. The bevilled mirror he removed and had it professionally re- silvered on the back, giving it a look of complete newness. After attaching the decorative brass drawer handles, the ninety year old, antique dressing table had been restored to it’s original beauty. It was elegant, beautiful, stylish in it’s vintage look, and mine. How I love that dressing table. 

I think of how my husband has the ability to see the potential in any indiscriminate object he comes in contact with. What appears to be trash to my eyes, appears to be a treasure to his. God sees the potential and the hidden treasure with each one of us. No matter how damaged, broken or wounded we are, He sees all we can become when healed, restored and born again in Him. He sees our value. He sees our worth. He longs to bring us to a place of beauty. Will I remain forlornly alone deep in my heart, viewing myself as invaluable? Will I accept God’s assessment of who I am and allow Him to restore and heal me? Will I fulfil the plans of delight He has for my life? Will I be recreated to the full potential He sees in me?

Isa 13:12 “I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir.”

Isa 43:4 “…you are precious in my eyes, and honoured, and I love you..”

Deut 7:6 “For you are a people holy to the LORD your God. The LORD your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.”

Wilted Glory

Wilted Glory

Every year we are guaranteed to receive one bumper crop. The Australian summer is long and hot and zucchini’s joyfully thrive in such a perfect growing season. This year would be no different. I was eagerly planting out the large seeds, that would germinate quickly, into seed raising mixture inside small, plastic containers. With great enthusiasm I watched their first leaves unfurl and reach for the azure sky. I could envision the many zucchinis I was going to happily harvest that year. I would grow medium sized zucchinis, that I would fry up with onions and fresh homegrown tomatoes. I would store the fried zucchinis away in the freezer, to be enjoyed throughout winter. I would grow very large zucchinis, approximately a foot long, and we would then call them marrows. These marrows would have a tough, hard skin which I would peel; the seeds I would discard as pulp and the rest I would cut into larger cubes. I would busily blanch them and freeze them, to add to warm vegetable soups in the colder season. I would enjoy small, steamed dark green zucchinis that would melt in my mouth at dinner time. Yes, the dream of future zucchinis and their abundance danced with delight across my mind as the seedlings grew their adult leaves and longed to be planted permanently out in the great outdoors. 

It was fool proof. We had grown zucchinis in abundance for many years in the different locations we had lived.They were the one crop we could always count on. They are hardy, prolific producers and a versatile vegetable to grow. I was keen to transplant my sturdy seedlings in the heat of an early summer. Once in the vegetable garden themselves, they took off at a sprint, growing almost before our eyes. Fast and furiously they grew a profusion of luxurious, large, green leaves. Each plant spread wide and strong. Finally, with much pleasure, I noticed the first brightly golden flowers growing at the base of the leafy stems. They were all male flowers  to start with and with patience I waited for the female flowers to bloom and the bees to pollinate. With wonder I watched tiny finger like baby zucchinis start to grow, with the splash of a yellow cupped flower at the end of each one.

Then it happened. They stopped growing. Every day I would race outside to water my zucchinis and measure their growth. Nothing. They were 3-4 inches long and stagnant in size. Why? How can my bumper, fool proof crop be languishing? Then the rot set in. Starting at the flower attached end, my zucchinis started to pale and then yellow. They were fast deteriorating. I looked carefully at the glorious flush of bright, green leaves and noticed the stems seemed wilted. The leaves were not held so high any more. My plants took on a sad, down trodden appearance struggling to reach up in proud nobility. Before my eyes vanished the glory of my amazing abundant crop. What had gone wrong? Google had the answer. My plants were lacking in an important mineral. The soil had become depleted of calcium. Calcium was needed to strengthen the structure of the stems holding up the umbrella styled leaves. Calcium was needed to provide the basic construction of the zucchini itself. Without the calcium, my plants could not produce the fruit they needed. Without the calcium the plants could no longer thrive, and surely but slowly the life was fading away within them. We applied the necessary mineral to the soil, watering it in and then spraying the plants weekly to continue to encourage them to produce at their maximum potential. 

Sometimes it seems that I can have a “fool proof” Christianity. I can have an expectancy of fruit in my life from a thriving Christian environment. I can surround myself with church activities, church attendance, Christian television, Christian radio and Christian music. I can fill my life up with encouraging Christian friends and read amazing Christian books that motivate and inspire me. However, I can become stagnant in my experience. I can fade away slowly and sense a distance between God and I. What has happened? Where did I go wrong? God quietly whispers to my heart the need of my soul. It is His calcium. The milk of the Word. He wants to build within me a strength in Him. He wants me to produce fruit in an abundance of joyfulness. I need the calcium in my life. God calls me to come apart with Him each day, to pick up His Word, to read it, to study it, to prayerfully absorb it deep within. Will I do that? Will you do that?  Will we allow the milk of the Word to build us up in Christ? 

1 Peter 2:2 “Like newborn babies, long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow in respect to salvation.”

Deut 11:18 “Therefore shall you lay up these my words in your heart and in your soul..”

Ezekiel 3:10 “Moreover, He said to me, "Son of man, take into your heart all My words which I will speak to you and listen closely.”