The Shout of Grace

The Shout of Grace

Have you ever wondered what grace really is? We have all heard the tossed around definition of ‘God’s unmerited favour’. What does that really mean anyway. What does that look like to me personally? We hear the bantering back and forth of grace versus law in Christian circles. We have read the Bible verses and the word ‘grace’ seems to slip past us like water off a duck’s back. What really is grace and what does it mean to me in my everyday life?

My best friend has lupus. To be medically accurate she has Systemic Lupus Erythematosus , or S.L.E for short. It is an incurable autoimmune disease in which the immune system becomes hyperactive and attacks normal, healthy tissues affecting many different body systems, including joints, skin, kidneys, blood cells, heart, and lungs. Yes, she has nearly died twice from it. Yes, she follows a strict diet and lifestyle of healthy choices to give her the maximum benefit to her life. No, you can’t usually tell by looking at her, as to how chronic her condition really can be on some days. I cry lots. It is very hard to watch one you love so much suffering. Her energy levels are often in low depleted amounts, requiring high quantities of sleep. She suffers from Rheumatoid Arthritis with it, leaving her in pain, and unable to do some of the simplest things in life at times, like driving. Each day I ask how she is feeling, going through a check list from mental fog, to swollen joints, back pain and the day’s energy levels we measure in quantities called “spoons”. My heart watches over her tenderly as each day I see her struggle. We pray together and I cry for her.

Watching my best friend, Lisa, however, has taught me much about grace. She studies at university, she carries on a speaking ministry and she counsels people. I look in wonder as to how it is actually possible to even do any of these things some days. We pray earnestly together and I watch God work. She has nothing to bring to God, energy wise, and even on foggy days her mind isn’t even clear enough to think well, let alone adding pain into the mixture. How will she get through the essay, the test, the plane trip to a speaking appointment, or the words she is called upon to speak deeply to a person’s heart? She seems to have nothing in her to do this, yet after prayer, she chooses to get out of bed, she chooses to take a shower and she chooses to move into the things God asks her to do and then I see something miraculous, something that makes me cry more. I see grace. I see God pouring grace over her situation. He gives her strength, He enables her, He causes her to get through her test, her essay, her speaking engagements. It is all of God and none of her. Her life is a perpetual testimony of grace.

Grace is about God’s love for me. It is His love poured out upon me not because of anything I can do, achieve, earn or be good enough for.It is not because I have some worth of some kind, some ability or something He sees in me that causes His attention to be focused on me. His love is given to me in rich quantity simply because He loves me. Nor does He just love me, but He likes me. Grace is also God’s power at work through His Spirit. We all know the famous verse in Zech 4:6 when God spoke to Zechariah these well known words when the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem were being hindered by the grand schemes of their enemies. “Then he said to me, "This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel saying, 'Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,' says the LORD of hosts.” Have you ever stopped to read the next verse? It is a verse of much grace. Zech 4:7 “What are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become a plain; and he will bring forth the top stone with shouts of "Grace, grace to it!”'" Do you have a mountain of impossibility in your life? There is nothing you can do? Lay it down, surrender it, cry grace upon it. For truly grace is more than God’s gift of eternal life freely given because He loves us, it is also God’s power over every situation in our lives.It is not about what we can do, or want to do in our own strength and might. It is about being nothing and having nothing that we become something and have everything. My eyes are beginning to open to the wonder of grace, for truly it is all that my soul needs. 

2 Cor 12:9 And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

2 Cor 3:6 Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God, 

Eph 2:8 For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;

Danger!!!!

Danger

Living in Australia can have it’s moments of danger, especially in a country with some of the world’s deadliest snakes. I grew up in the bush with a well developed “sixth sense”, always aware in the background of my mind of their existence and always ready to respond. Raising our girls on 2500 acres of a sheep and cattle property, kept my sixth sense well sharpened. The snakes moved mostly under the cover of darkness, sleeping lazily in the sun by day, curled up in a spot designed to gather up the sun’s warmth. The dams in each paddock and the lake were an added attraction for wandering snakes as it afforded a  easy watering spot for them. It is never safe to walk on the low side of a dam, for around the wavering reeds will be found a sunning snake or two, hence one always walks on the high side of a dam. Our girls were taught of their dangers, learned their habits and knew how to avoid them and to stay safe.

We lived in an old wooden farmhouse with a more recently added laundry built hastily onto the side of the house. To exit the back of our house, we took the main door out from the play room, stepping down into the laundry, and then crossing the cement floor, to leave through another door. Early one morning, after my husband had departed for work on the other side of the large property, I was gathering up the dirty washing, to take hurriedly to the laundry. I quickly opened the main door leading out from our playroom, and before I could take that step down into the laundry, I noticed a poisonous snake in it’s full blackness lying leisurely on the cold cement floor. I immediately shut the door again and promptly dropped the unclean washing on the floor, pushing it tightly into the crack under the door. My husband was usually not contactable during the day, leaving me quite isolated with three little ones. However, this day his employer was on the property. I rang the large main homestead to alert his boss to my current dangerous position and to pass a message onto my husband to come and deal at once with the situation.

Gazing out of the front windows of my house, waiting in anticipation for my husband’s arrival, I saw a large swirl of dust. Driving at break neck speed on the rough, dirt road was my husband’s boss in his city BMW. He had decided that he himself would deal with the imminent danger. He braked ever so slightly, as he came to the causeway, careening over it’s rocky surface and back up onto the dirt road once more. In a gathering cloud of dust he frantically made it to the back of my house, leaped out of his car, rifle in hand and stood courageously by my laundry door. I had managed to make it back from the front of my house, removed my dirty laundry from the doorway and cracked my door open  enough to speak with him. Impatiently he barked at me, “Where is the snake?” I looked. It was no longer there. I started to speak, stumbling over my words and muttering about how it was now no longer in the spot I had last seen it. My eyes roamed over the laundry slowly, taking in each nook and cranny, wondering where the snake had holed up. Angrily he launched into his lecture, “You must never take your eyes off a snake! You always keep your eyes on a snake!”. Suddenly in fright he jumped. He had been standing just outside my laundry door, right next to the deadly snake. In haste he collected himself, squared his shoulders, took on the role of grand protector, stepped back, aimed and fired and the snake was no more. I refrained from repeating his own words back to him, about never taking his eyes off a snake but it did give our family a good laugh afterwards.

We too have an enemy that seeks to take our lives. The Bible reveals to us who he is, what his plans are and how he is a already a defeated foe. However, the Bible also calls to us to be watchful, to be ready, to be alert, to always be aware of the plans of the enemy for each one of us. Do I flee to the shelter of Jesus at the faintest sight of the enemy or do I think I can handle this on my own? Do I really understand the dangers around me and my family? Am I alert and watchful or am I ignorant of his plans for my life and the lives of those I love? God calls for me to  choose each day to be protected by the full of armour of God. Will I make that choice? Will you?

1 Peter 5:8 Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 

Luke 21:36 "But keep on the alert at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are about to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.

Eph 6:10-12 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armour of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places

Imprinted

Imprinted

Our old farm house stood alone on a gentle rising hill that overlooked a beautiful lake. The lake was the home of many water birds, who flew noisily in each evening in a cacophony of chatter, to nestle down safely for the night among the tall reeds at the water’s edge. At dawn the birds took regally to the skies once more, their cries sounding across the lake. During the day different aquatic birds returned, or maybe they had stayed, to feed eagerly in it’s waters, webbed feet skimming them lightly across the glistening surface. Huddled in groups by the shoreline they purposefully groomed their feathers, settled down in the sun and slept. 

Our growing family enjoyed the birdlife down by the lake. We owned a sturdy fibreglass red and white canoe, which was used by our family to explore the intriguing life of the birds. In quietness we guided our canoe past dry rushes at the edges, through thick green reeds growing in the water and around old, fallen, rotting trees. Nesting birds were tucked away secretly, colourful eggs could be found, babies swimming closely behind their mothers were located, all with wonder and delight by my daughters. 

In the centre of the lake was a small grassy island with some tall green poplar trees growing on the east side. Many times we would circle the island in our canoe, listening carefully, looking intently, as the island was the favoured home of many a bird. One day as we glided silently to the far side of the sanctuary we startled two very beautiful and noble black Australian swans. The male took swiftly to the skies, his red beak pointed forward and his black wings stretched forth in their fullness, the underneath whiteness shimmering down upon us. We gazed upon his beauty as he flew, sending forth his haunting call. The female swan continued to hover on the island. The reason for her decision to stay was soon made apparent to us. She was keeping a watchful eye on a large grassy nest with a clutch of four greenish white eggs inside it. We looked closer and the mother swan stepped backwards and out of our immediate sight. There, just hatched, lay a wet, tiny cygnet. It’s round stomach moving up and down with it’s breaths after the exertion of it’s appearance into the world. My daughters were ecstatic. We watched with delight and wonder as it dried in the warm air, growing fluffier by the moment. It wobbled on it’s painted grey webbed feet and rolled onto it’s back once more. It’s tiny little cheeps added to it’s sweetness. Soon the cygnet was a tiny ball of dry grey fluff, moving around the nest, stumbling over the other eggs, cheeping piteously at us and filling our hearts with joy. Then suddenly, it was in the water heading towards our canoe, bobbing up and down like a cork. We quickly scooped it up. Oh it felt so soft, like touching only air. We all eagerly held the baby swan, looked closely at it’s little dark grey beak, felt it’s softness, and held it close to our cheeks. Then it was time to return the cygnet to the nest. Alas, however, each time we tried to depart the cygnet tried to follow. We would take it back to the nest over and over. Finally, we left the baby in it’s nest and paddled away at a furious rate hoping it would not be able to follow and that the mother would return to the nest once again.

The little cygnet had imprinted on us. Seeing our family in the canoe was the first glimpse it had received of something large and moving and it instinctively thought we were it’s mother and it was prepared to follow us closely for the next nine months of it’s life. Several days later we checked once more on our little swan family. The chicks had all hatched and were all wary of us, except one, who wandered towards the edge of the nest to look longingly towards us before a honking mother brought it back hastily to safety once more. God desires that we too imprint, not on each other, not on the first thing on our minds as we wake each morning, but on Him. As we start our day may our protection, our life and our needs be met only in Him. May our minds be lifted up to Him and may we see only Him in all His beauty and glory before we start our day and look around at all the work to be done, the problems to be solved and people to be dealt with. May we wake up and open His Word and imprint on God each day.

Ps 63:1 “O God, you are my God; early will I seek you: my soul thirsts for you, my flesh longs for you in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is..”

Matt 6:33 "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness..”

Shaken Foundations

Shaken Foundations

Thud! Thud! The old, wooden farm house trembled slightly. Thud! It was pitch dark and my husband and I were suddenly woken up. The eery screeching, hissing and growling coming from under the house bore a resemblance to a wild cat. Thud! Again the house shook slightly. It was a territorial fight between two wombats who had both decided to claim occupancy under our house in the inky darkness of night. Their noisy and dramatic fighting pushed them into the brick foundations of our house. My husband flicked on the light switch, flooding the room with brightness. Thud! The fighting continued. Pulling on blue jeans and work boots, my husband wearily traipsed out into the darkness to solve the problem.

Wombat

Wombats are an Australian marsupial. They are a heavy set animal, short legged, muscular and only about one metre in length, with a short stubby tail. They are a burrowing, nocturnal mammal which lives at the end of a long, well dug tunnel. They have a backwards facing pouch that when they are nursing their young within, they are still able to dig burrows and not get soil collected inside their pouch. Wombats emerge at dusk to feed through the night on the rough, wild grasses of the Australian landscape. They are generally slow movers, plodding along swaying gently from side to side, however when faced with danger they can take off at a quick run. Their greatest protection is a solid plate in their backside which they use to push against and corner the enemy within their tunnel, thus crushing it to death.

Baby wombat peeking out from his pouch

Wombat burrows

The thudding, screaming and wild noises continued under our house as my husband, in the silver light of a half moon, grabbed the garden hose, turned on the outside tap until the water ran at full force, spurting from the hose. Crawling on his hands and knees he aimed the hose towards the howling noises under the house and allowed the water to shoot forth in a torrent of coldness. Suddenly one wombat rushed, wet and disgruntled from under one side of the house and the other raced, sodden and miserable from the under other side. Quietness reigned once more.

This was not the first time our sleep had been disrupted by fighting wombats. It was time to solve this problem permanently. Our house stood on brick piers ranging from 30 centimetres in height to well over a metre. We were seriously concerned about the impact on our foundations that the wombats were having.We decided on a plan of action. We would fence in under the house. This could not be any fencing. We needed something extremely strong, immovable and something that could be buried well below the surface by a good metre in depth. My husband used very heavy wire fencing and with much effort he secured it firmly to the outside foundations and digging in earnest, he entombed the bottom of the fencing deep within the soil. The foundations of our house were now secure.

For many years after we fenced under our house, from time to time a wombat would amble past in the darkness of night and desire to retreat under our house. However, the heavy wire fencing always created an obstacle for them. Rhythmically they would push and bang and thud their bodies heavily against the wire and when that failed to secure their entrance, they would resort to digging, deeper and deeper. Alas the wire was always deeper then they could dig and the wombats would eventually give up the struggle and move onto grazing through the night once more.

Many times in life the foundations of who I am in Christ, loved by God, treasured and precious, and my purpose in Him, to glorify His name are shaken. We too experience the wombats of destruction as people fail us, hurt us, discourage us and knock us down. Sometimes we feel shrieked at, hissed upon and struck. The blows may be seen by no one, felt by no one but they wound us deep in our souls, where another can never know. God places the fence of His promises as a protection around our foundations. Believe God, His words are true. Allow Him to protect your foundation in Christ today.

Isa 28:16 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, "Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a tested stone, A costly cornerstone for the foundation, firmly placed. He who believes in it will not be disturbed.

2 Tim 2:19 Nevertheless, the firm foundation of God stands, having this seal, "The Lord knows those who are His," 

White Painted Fences

White Painted Fences

I live in the beautiful, picturesque Hunter Valley in Australia. It is a rural area known internationally for it’s fine Australian wines. Our district has thousands of acres of undulating farmland growing grape vines in long, straight rows, pruned and flourishing in rich vibrant green. The Hunter valley is also internationally famous for the breeding and rearing of Thoroughbred horses and most of our country's best racehorses. It is one the of world’s largest horse breeding regions. Acre after acre of white fenced paddocks are the home to noble and elegant horses. There is something uniquely beautiful in the sight of a well groomed horse, prancing, grazing and galloping in all it’s regality. 

I am not a very “horsey” person. I grew up riding my neighbour’s uncooperative shetland pony, legs splayed over it’s ever widening girth. We plodded slowly up and down our street, only at the pace and interest of the pony. Excitement grew as another neighbour bought a real horse. She was a deep, brown mare with a touch of white splashed across her forehead. Her name was Sparky and us kids loved to hang over the wooden rails of the stock fence watching her. I grew to fear Sparky because she had the habit of biting, nipping here and there. However, growing up as all Australians do, I was raised on the bush poetry of Banjo Patterson, who authored the famous poem “The Man From Snowy River”, which told of the escape of a prize winning colt in the late 1800’s which had joined a mob of wild brumbies, and of the daring horseback pursuit though the rough and rugged terrain of Australia’s Snowy River Mountains, to capture the colt. In 1982 the poem became a very famous movie. As a result, even though I wasn’t overly keen on horses and their teeth, I placed on my bucket list of things to do one day, the desire to ride a horse in the Snowy River Mountains. 

My eldest daughter ready for the ride

My youngest daughter excited to go out riding

Several years ago my Snowy River Mountain horse riding wish came to fruition. Our church was camping down at the mountains one hot summer and I had the opportunity to go on a two hour horse trail ride with two of my daughters. My daughters loved horses and they had received some horse riding lessons as they grew. I, however was a bit more hesitant. We listened intently to the instructions, donned our hard, white riding caps, chose our horses and mounted them with enthusiasm. There was a group of about ten of us, some had never ridden and others like me were a little fearful and then there were my daughters, eagerly waiting to set off at a good pace. The Snowy River Mountains were all I had hoped for, thick bushland, steep rugged mountainsides; a beauty found only in Australia. I could picture the brumbies running wild and free and the story of the “Man From Snowy River” being played out around me. Down the precipitous mountain side we rode, leaning back in our saddles, up the arduous terrain, knees pressed close to the horse as we sat forward, feet pushing into the stirrups. The horses were sure footed, confident and moved with the ease of true bush mountain horses. The air was scented with eucalyptus trees, the loud shrieks of sulphur crested cockatoos echoed as they flew overhead and all around was the rugged attractiveness of the Australian bushland.

Our group in the Snowy River Mountains

I survived the horse ride :-)

The Rugged Bushland

Back at the Hunter Valley as I lazily lean against a white painted, wooden stock fence and gaze at the noble horses in the paddock, memories of my ride in the mountains and my inability to walk very well afterwards drift through my mind and I smile. My hands rest on the rough fence and I notice it’s paint work. White fences. Miles of white fences. Behind the fences live the best of Australia’s Thoroughbreds and our most valued race horses, all worth tens of thousands of dollars and more. White painted fences is used in the industry to protect the horses. As they gallop at high speeds during dusk or in the dark, the fences are seen clearly by them. Other fencing can find the horses colliding with them at break neck speeds and being severely injured, their careers in racing ended, maybe even their lives lost. 

God has painted the fences white in our lives. He clearly shows us where the boundaries are between a life in Him, the peace and joy of abiding in Him, and where the separation from Him occurs as we step into a place of emptiness, the “pleasures of sin for a season”, a life without His abiding presence. Will I stay within the white painted fences, or will I careen dangerously close to them, will I longingly look over them or even step over them? The fences are my protection for a rich, fulfilling abundant life of purpose, contentment and inner joy. They are placed there out of love for me. I either have the Son and life or I don’t have the Son and life. I either abide in Christ and He in me or I don’t abide in Him and He is not in me. Either  I know God and have eternal life or I don’t know Him and I don’t have eternal life. Where do I stand today? Within the white painted fences or without? Where do you stand?

Isa 59:2 But your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God

1 John 5:12 Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life

John 15:5 Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. 

John 17:3 "This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent. 

The Unknown Purchase

The Unknown Purchase

I am technologically challenged. Added to that I dislike reading manual’s or “how to” instructions. Who understands what they are talking about anyway? Thankfully, I like to ask ‘google’ questions when I have a problem and ‘google’ usually has the answer, unless of course it’s to do with my computer. What was google saying about my computer problem? Translation please!!! For a time being my dilemma at getting past the basics was solved by a houseful of helpful teenage daughters. Then they grew up and left home, one after the other. 

The day eventually arrived when my old and ailing mac laptop was ready to be replaced. An upgrade was absolutely necessary. I took all the important documents and photos off the old white computer, storing them appropriately for safe keeping, in case it should suddenly cease to function. However, I could hold off it’s replacement no longer. My youngest daughter was still in and out of home as a college student; my ‘boomerang baby’, the one who kept returning. Her tech savvy ability was a must. After some discussion, my delightful daughter decided to accompany me to the nearest Apple store and initiate and complete the transaction for me. My role in the task was to hand her my credit card. Off we went to the closest Apple store where we were greeted at the door by smiling, friendly staff. I looked around at all the stylish, contemporary tables with their wide variety of apple products on display and a mob of smiling, friendly staff ready on hand. I followed my daughter across the busy store to where the shiny new silver laptop sat. She started to show it to me and explain it’s functions when an amiable sales man came over to us. Then my daughter just took control of the situation. I hung behind her as she sorted out the sale with confidence. Finally, my moment of involvement arrived, and she held out her hand and I passed her my credit card. The transaction was completed and my daughter set up the lap top there in the store, with the salesman discussing it with her. At home, my daughter continued to direct and guide me on my new adventure. 

Several years later my new lap top started seriously slowing down. Moving from screen to screen became almost unbearable. The spinning, coloured circle, indicating my need to wait, kept twirling time and again across my screen. I prayed. I rang the free technical support service. The technician helpfully guided me through different parts of my computer to determine the problem. The diagnosis concluded that my hard drive was in it’s final moments of activity. I prayed some more. This was going to be expensive. My anxiety levels increased. I continued to pray. Suddenly my mind registered, with joy, what the computer specialist was saying to me. “You still have over three hundred days on your Apple Care.” Apple Care? I had Apple Care? A surge of relief coursed through my veins. My wonderful daughter had not only helped me purchase my new lap top, but she had, unknown to me, added Apple Care into the transaction. I was able to take my lap top back to my nearby Apple Store and within hours a new hard drive was placed within my computer free of charge.

My mind thought about a service I had unknowingly purchased and was there for me to use in my future, if necessary. I had no idea I owned it. How much this is like our relationship with God. He has purchased my redemption, my freedom and  my eternal life, do I even realise it? It’s there for me as a gift. It’s free. Not only has He purchased this for me, God is actually already in my future. There is nothing that comes my way that My Heavenly Father is not prepared for; He has already provided the way for me to pass through it. Nothing comes unexpectedly to Him. I can have complete confidence that all the problems, dilemmas and heart aches have been weighed gently in His hands and allowed to come to me only because He is there to carry me though everything and that He is working all things together for good. God has provided abundantly for each situation that comes my way, both now and in my future. I can rest peacefully in Him. I can trust Him. Can you?

Rev 22:13 "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”

Jer 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Ps 46:10 Declaring the end from the beginning, And from ancient times things which have not been done, Saying, 'My purpose will be established, And I will accomplish all My good pleasure'

Weep Not

Weep Not

She was completely and utterly grief stricken. With her head bowed  low and her shoulders stooped in abject despair, she walked in a haze, down the steep, stony pathway. Around her the air was filled with the sounds of crying, some from sympathy, some from deepest compassion and others, who from idle curiosity had joined the mourning throng; added their wailing to the cacophony. She hesitated, stopping to gaze down the mountainside to the lush, green plains below. Thoughts flooded her memory, bringing only a fresh flush of tears as the pasture lands reminded her, of the daily work of her late husband, and now deceased son. What was to become of her? The ‘all too recent’ tragic circumstances that left her bereft of the companionship and support of her husband was still breaking her heart, when suddenly, her only child, her son, had the breath of life snatched away from him. Could there be any greater sorrow than the loss of these two men? Oh how she loved them both. How she missed them. How would she survive? She had no one, absolutely no one left to provide her support and security. She glanced over at the stretcher bearing the lifeless form of her son, now wrapped in white cloths, his face covered. The litter was being carried by his strong young friends. She stepped forward, slowly descending with the small crowd of mourners towards the burial caves that lined the rocky, dusty pathway. Each step sadly taking her towards the finality of her farewell.

The crying crowd, having just left the village gate, paused to make way for a large group who were now ascending the mountainside.Their leader was a man of noble bearing. His compassionate eyes filled with love, as He took in the scene before Him. In that moment He read the life story of the humble, sorrowing widow. Everyone stopped as Jesus spoke in tones of love, understanding and tender feeling to the weeping widow. “Do not Weep”, He gently said. She raised her gaze from the dusty ground and beheld the eyes of deepest love. A flicker of hope came to her hurting heart, the warmth of comfort flooded her soul. People wondered at the ignorance of such  uttered words, after all, this was her only son who had died and not long after the calamitous death of her husband. Jesus’s words seemed so out of place, but were they? There was a silence as the cries of birds could be heard echoing through the burial caves further down the stony road. All eyes were on Jesus as He stepped towards the body being borne by his friends. The young stretcher bearers stood still. What would Jesus do? He is obviously a teacher, a rabbi maybe.  Then Jesus graciously reached out His hand and touched the lifeless one, and in ringing tones of power He called out, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” In utter amazement all beheld as the wrapped body sat up, the cloth falling from his face revealed a robust colour of health and life. He turned to his friends around him and spoke. In haste, they roughly placed the stretcher down in the dust. Jesus bent over the now filled with life, young man and in quiet gentleness He unwrapped the bandages of death. Taking him by the hand, Jesus presented the son, in the full vigour of youthfulness, to his mother. In rapturous joy she clung to her son and in tears of gratefulness, the widow kept uttering her praise over and over to God. The crowd drew closer in amazement and awe. Songs of praise burst from their lips. “A great prophet has appeared among us,” they said. “God has come to help his people.” ( Luke 7:16 )

I often wonder about the Widow of Nain and the experience she went through. In life we too find ourselves in bleak situations in which there appears no solution, no way out and no hope. Perhaps you are in that place right now? Perhaps I am? The widow of Nain was. Maybe you are in the time of comfort. It is a seemingly impossible matter, everything is still all dark but Jesus has come to you and consoled you and spoken to your heart, just as He has spoken to mine and said, “ Do not weep,” and in the brief sentence there is  a spark hope. Could this be the time in your life where you see Jesus reach out to touch this insurmountable difficulty with His mighty power. As He reaches, hope and joy spring to life. Could He? Would He? Yes! The situation is solved, a miraculous event occurs, newness and life leaps into the deadest, darkest and coldest of circumstances. Praise courses through our veins and erupts from our lips in deepest heart felt strains to God. Where is your life today? Where is mine? Are we waiting for that touch? Wait in hopeful expectation because God has promised that He will touch it. Weep not. He is there, reaching out to place His hand on your impossible situation and on mine.

Jer 31:17 "There is hope for your future," declares the LORD

Ecc 3:11 He has made everything beautiful in its time

Rom 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

The Duel

The Duel

I was nine years of age as I hung over the wire, side fence of our yard, watching the removalist’s truck slowly backing up the neighbour’s rough, cement driveway. The small fibro house next door had been sold and new neighbours were moving in. Would they have children? Did they have pets? What were they like? Who were they? I was curious and impatient to find the answers to all my questions. Cars came and went, people came and went. The truck was eventually unloaded. With all the comings and goings and my sporadic watching, it was impossible to determine who the new neighbours were going to be. My anticipation reached greater heights and my inquisitiveness grew. Several days later, our family finally had the privilege of meeting the lovely new neighbours. They were an older, early retired couple with a huge collection of cats, and they had two boisterous grandsons, who lived nearby. There was almost an immediate bond and I was tucked under their wings as an extra grandchild and thus began a very wonderful friendship that continued until more recent years, when they both passed away. 

One happy afternoon their grandson, Andrew, and I, were playing in the backyard when we wandered into the large garage’s side door. Our eyes adjusted to the dimness and as we looked around the garage became a delight of exploration. There were boxes and boxes and a cluttered assortment of belongings from England through to Malaysia and from Australia itself, as my adopted grandparents had moved from country to country. A cat lay snuggly on a wooden work bench near the glass window, soaking up a beam of sunshine streaming brightly in. The lawn mower and rusty gardening tools, presented obstacles to be clambered past, as we looked at one item after another and poked inside one box after another. 

Then we found them. They were shiny and metal, long and thin. They stood abandoned in a darkened corner. They were foils, swords used in fencing. Fencing as a sport uses three different kinds of swords. The foil is a lighter practice weapon used by duellers to hone their skills. The blade on a foil is about thirty-five inches long. It is a lighter more flexible, rectangular blade and a descendent of the light court sword used in the past by nobilities to train for duels. Andrew and I picked them up and looked them over. We were excited. They looked like fun. We decided to have a mock duel. We took them outside into the backyard to play with them. We held their handles, with the circular guards protecting our hands, and we stood in an appropriate posture with our minds on our footwork, with the shiny tips pointed daringly at each other. We clanged our swords together with a resounding clash and in mock duel we thrust the tips towards each other’s torso. We danced in fancy footwork back and forth, hitting our swords and pointing at each other. Suddenly a shrill voice called both our names. We stopped and turned to see my adopted grandmother with an extremely concerned look on her face. We had absolutely no idea that handling swords in an untrained manner and without the safety of a fencer’s uniform was very unwise. The swords were taken from us and placed in a safe spot far away from any further uses we may find for them in the future.

The Bible tells us we have a sword and it “is the word of God” (Eph 6:18). We are advised to “take up the full armour of God” ( Eph 6:14) to protect us in warfare. Can we handle our swords unwisely? How are we to use them? The mighty men protecting Solomon were men who were to “ all hold swords, being expert in war” ( Song of Sol 3:8) We can be experts, but how? 2 Tim 2:15 “Study to show yourself approved to God, a workman that needs not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” Jesus is not just the living Word of God ( John 1:1, 14) but revelation depicts Him symbolically with a sharp two-edged sword coming out of His mouth. ( Rev 1:16)

In Heb 4:12 it says, “For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart .”The word of God is a double edged sword because it is offensive as well as defensive. “Every time you read the Word of God it will become more and more entrenched in your heart - no matter how many times you have read it before. When you speak the Word of God in the face of every attack of the enemy, you are driving a sword through his plans…. The Word will change us every time we read it.” Stormy Omartian.

Ps 45:3 Gird your sword on your side, you mighty one

Psalm 149:6 May the praise of God be in their mouths and a double-edged sword in their hands

Getting Ready

Getting Ready

I am in state of great excitement and anticipation. My best friend, who lives in the USA, is coming to visit me, in Australia. Every day, since she enthusiastically purchased her plane ticket, we have been counting the days down.  At the moment of writing this, we are at 8 weeks and 6 days. As each  new morning dawns, we calculate one day less until she will joyfully arrive at Sydney airport. In my mind I am rehearsing over and over that moment when she will step through the doors at the arrivals area of the airport, and pushing her trolley full of tightly packed luggage, she will proceed down the ramp. Will I patiently wait behind the rail until she reaches me, or will I disregard the signs and run up the ramp to give her a big hug and help with the luggage?

Meanwhile, I am in a place of great preparations. There are multitudinous things to attend to. Firstly, she is gluten free and mostly vegan. I am not gluten free, so I have created menus and shopping lists and I am in the process of cooking special delectable savouries to go with vegetables and salads, just for her. Placing the savouries in small, meal sized containers, I am stacking my freezer. In my spare time, I am researching interesting places to go to and fascinating things to do, discussing them with her, as we make our choices. I have created a list of what we could do each week she is here, the free activities, the places to visit close by, and the major day trips. My mind  is merrily anticipating journeys to the aquarium, steam train rides, a cave tour to see beautiful stalagmites and stalactites, the Butterfly House, dolphins and much more. On our list we can calculate costs and budget and plan. My excitement is mounting. What Bible study will we choose to do together in the mornings? What spiritual book will we read together in the evenings? I am smiling. I have looked around the house and factored in some major “spring cleaning” projects. The filing cabinet was decluttered of the many unnecessary papers and moved into the second spare room, thus creating more space in our dining  area. One of my daughters left home during her college time last year, dragging an assortment of pillows with her and now I suddenly find the pillows in this house are in a depleted supply. So plans are under way to purchase some more. The house is humming with activities and purpose. My husband is cheerfully helping me in all the preparations and looking forward to my friend’s arrival. In the final week there will be one last spruce up, one last lawn mowed and one last item cooked. We will be ready. 

As Seventh Day Adventists we often hear the phrase, ‘ get ready for Jesus’s second coming’. What does that mean? How do I get ready? What will that preparedness look like in my life? I can ponder a time schedule based on a list of end time events to be unfolded in the future or I can realise that if I get ‘hit by a bus’ tomorrow, then my next waking thought will be, the second coming of Jesus. So in reality, Jesus’s Second Coming could be any time. If that is the case, what does readiness look like? Just as I look with joyful anticipation on my friend’s arrival, I too can look with joyful anticipation to Jesus’s coming. I love my friend, I enjoy every moment with her, I want to spend time with her.  I love Jesus, I enjoy every moment with Him and I want to spend time with Him. This desire to be with my friend creates within me an enthusiasm to be prepared for her coming. The desire to be with Jesus, always and forever, creates in me an enthusiasm to be prepared for His coming. With my friend I am budgeting, planning events and activities centred around being together but we are spending time together right now in friendship. I am spending daily time with Jesus in friendship now, getting to know Him more, connecting and growing in Him and allowing Him to change me, as I behold His love for me. I eagerly look forward to spending eternity with Him. My preparations for my friend’s arrival absorbs my time, my money and our household plans. Preparing for Jesus’s arrival absorbs my entire life, my thoughts and my heart, all that I have and all that I am. Am I preparing for Jesus’s Second Coming? Are you?

Matt 24: 44 Therefore be you also ready: for in such an hour as you think not the Son of man comes.

Rev 19:7, 8 Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready.” It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.

Earthquake of Freedom

Earthquake of Freedom

In January 2014, my nephew was driving us around the desolation of Christchurch in the south island of New Zealand. The sites we saw were sad, disheartening and solemn. My husband, Michael, was shocked. The beloved city of his childhood was barely recognisable. Buildings that were subconsciously landmarks of direction, were missing and a sense of bewilderment came over him.  Memories of childhood earthquake safety drills at school came flooding back to his mind. Recollections from younger days of being jolted and shaken stood starkly in Michael’s mind.  We drove past his childhood home, it was damaged and a sadness enveloped my husband. Earthquakes are the fear of every New Zealander.

Christchurch Cathedral

Early in the morning on September 4, 2010 an earthquake of 7.1 had rudely jolted the residents of Christchurch and the surrounding Canterbury Plains, awake. In the darkness, the reeling earth tossed people back and forth for an eternal fifty seconds. Dishes smashed, books and belongings toppled off shelves, houses shook violently from side to side. Silence and stillness descended as people slowly started to survey the damage. 

The came the aftershocks, wave upon wave of aftershocks. Sleepless nights and fear gripped the people of Christchurch. Children were unsettled. Was the ‘big one’ still to come? With each sudden jolt came the terror of wondering if ‘this is it’ as the seconds passed in eternal timelessness. Then it came  with full intensity on February 22, 2011, a large, destructive aftershock of 6.3 convulsed the area, back and forth and up and down it rocked and reeled buildings, belongings and people. The damage was horrendous to individual homes and belongings. The Canterbury Television building in the city was almost entirely razed with the loss of over 100 people. Buildings that had been weakened in the previous earthquake collapsed and toppled into the street crushing cars and pedestrians. The city’s icon, the Christchurch Cathedral suffered severe damage.  Children and parents, who had been separated by work and school, tried frantically to reach one another, mobile phone reception was down, electricity was gone, water became unsafe to drink, roads were buckled and split. Homes became unliveable and toilets unusable. Then came the liquefaction as vast quantities of grey sandy silt came bubbling up out of the depths of the earth, covering entire suburbs in stinking mud.

Liquefaction

Here we were several years after the momentous event that was to change the face of Christchurch forever, driving around forsaken suburbs, boarded up buildings, vacant blocks of land, and tumbled down buildings. It was a solemn and sad time. All together 185 people lost their lives in a city of only 400,000. It impacted each and every person. It impacted us.

The Bible tells us the story of another earthquake. Paul and Silas have been wrongfully stripped, beaten, thrown into an inner cell of a dark, dank prison and had their feet placed in stocks. There they were hurt and suffering, full of pain with all freedom denied them. Yet they sang and prayed. They worshipped God. Their minds were on their heavenly Father and not on their own seemingly hopeless and painful condition. Suddenly an earthquake rumbled and shook the prison. The doors were flung open, the stocks on their feet were broken. They stood as free men, no longer bound. This is the earthquake we need in our own lives. As captives to sin and satan we lie in bondage, unable to free ourselves, hurt and wounded by the pain of this world, God calls us to worship Him. To sing and pray and focus our minds off ourselves and our current situations and onto Him the Lord of our situations. Worshiping God lifts us into His presence. Then and only then can the earthquake of the presence of God break the chains from off us and open the prison doors, setting us free in the light of His glory. Come and let us worship God today and enter into His presence. 

Acts 16:25, 26 But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.  Suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were loosed. 

Ps 22:3 But you are holy, O you that inhabit the praises of Israel.

Ps 107:14 He brought them out of darkness and gloom and broke their chains apart. 

John 8:36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.

Running in Circles

Running in Circles

The wool shed was over one hundred years old. It stood weathered and old in the grassy paddock beside our house. Originally it had been two separate slab houses that had been joined together, with the flooring added, to become the wool shed. The biting cold of the winter winds had been kept out by newspaper, which had been pasted in layers on the inside walls and was now faded, yellowed and peeling. The  dirt floor had been replaced by the common wooden slats of the shearing shed and had seen many a shearers’ boots and the frantic hooves of sheep being mustered. The old wool table, where the full fleece was thrown for skirting and classing, stood lonely and dusty. Antique wooden wool presses lay discarded and forgotten. Timber pens for sheep were now empty, and the sound of bleating sheep waiting to be shorn was a forgotten memory. The metal roof was rusting and the woodshed stood solitary with the echoes of many shearing seasons of bygone days.

The sheep, on the property we lived on, were either 'cross breds' or merinos. They were bought and sold seasonly and were flocks of young wethers, being shorn and then sent off to market for their meat before another mob was bought cheaply from out west, fattened quickly, shorn and sold as well. Rather than modernising the old wool shed, the sheep were placed on cattle trucks and taken to a neighbouring property to be shorn. They were regularly rotated around various dry grass paddocks, being successfully herded by the enthusiastic Aussie kelpie dog and pushed along by the sheep manager on a four wheeler. 

One day the mob had been split up and a group of about fifty were brought into the small paddock that housed the now empty wool shed. The grasses were growing tall and presented a fire and  snake hazard. The sheep were needed to reduce the paddock to small tufts of chewed grasses. They grazed peacefully beside each other, stopping occasionally to look around and chew their cud. Gentle bleating floated on the soft breeze of a warm spring day. Suddenly a sheep was startled, and by what, I have never found out. With a sharp cry one sheep leaped into the air, coming down on all four hooves to only start running madly. He dashed for the shadowy side of the wool shed. Alarmed, the other sheep raised their heads and within moments they had ceased from chewing and had let out a variety of frightened bleats and hurtled themselves in the direction of the startled sheep. Around the side of the wool shed, they dashed, following the first sheep. They were spooked and every single sheep ran. Not one sheep remained. Stampeding and crying they hotly pursued each other until all fifty sheep had round the woodshed corner and disappeared out of sight. The first sheep who had sounded the alarm came back into view and slowed down, catching his breath and looking around him. All seemed to be safe and he was ready to settle once more to the huge task of daily eating, when in his peripheral vision he caught sight of the last sheep rounding the corner. Shocked, the first sheep took off at a rapid run towards the final sheep. Around the corner of the old wool shed he dashed once more, no longer the leader, he was now a follower. Minute after minute passed as the sheep in panic circled the wool shed, each following the other. Round and round they went with no clear leader and with no clear reason for running. Eventually they slowed down, worn and harried, coming to a final stop in their distressed state. It took some time for them to settle peacefully once more to their contended grazing. 

Sometimes I feel like those sheep. I am busy dashing it what feels like circles. I am in rapid pursuit of all that needs to be done in a feeling of anxiety and stress. Others around me sense the tension and are impacted. What am I following after? Why is there stress? Does it even make sense? Why am I going round and round in circles? God calls to me to rest in Him, to graze peacefully beside the still waters of His presence. He asks me to bring my burdens, all I have to do, my plans and my busyness to Him in full surrender, to be worked out each day in His way and with His peaceful Spirit calmly abiding within. Today I choose to abide in Him and allow His Spirit to dwell in me. “Lord take my plans, my burdens and my busyness and work your way and your will with all that lies before me today.” Amen

Ps 23:2,3 He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness For His name's sake.

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