One little word: lonely.
Being by yourself is one thing. But lots of people feel trapped in their aloneness. And in this season of restricted social movement, more people are alone against their will and finding themselves lonely.
In a cloud of loneliness the other afternoon, I flicked on our church Spotify playlist to distract me with some more wholesome music.
“Messiah still, and all alone…”
This line lodged in my mind for a moment. Jesus was all alone at the cross. Jesus knows what it is like to experience being alone in a horrible situation.
We read in the New Testament accounts of his death that Jesus calls out from the cross, in a reference to Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
He felt forsaken. Utterly abandoned. Jesus was cut off from relationships. He was abandoned by his friends, who ran away when he got arrested. And worse than that, he was cut off from his Father, with whom he has had the closest of relationships since before the creation of the world. At the cross, Jesus took on the sin of the whole world, and sin breaks relationships with God.
So Jesus was alone. He has felt the terrible pain of separation. He has felt this aloneness.
He has gone through this and more. He has felt like this and worse. And it was for us.
He loves us and he has been through the trials of human life on earth, just like us.
The writer of Hebrews puts it like this:
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to feel sympathy for our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”
We may still be lonely. But we can bring this to him, knowing he knows, and he cares.
(Hear the full song: O Praise the Name by Hillsong Worship)
Saturday, 4 April 2020
Wednesday, 28 August 2019
One more year in Yorkshire
Incredibly, it’s been two years since I packed up my life to come to the Yorkshire coast and join Trinity Church Scarborough. I have grown to love this town, on sunny days and grey days, days when it’s sunny everywhere else but misty right here, days when it smells like seaweed when I step outside my front door. It is still nowhere near an IKEA, but somehow I’ve learned to reassess my need for meatballs, and to plan better for flatpack-related emergencies.
The second year has flown by even faster than the first. I feel properly settled in my home, in church, and at work. And yet, the past year has brought its own set of changes and challenges at work, at home, with family, among friends. Anxieties, hopes, celebrations, disappointments.
My mind takes longer to process things, emotions run high, and I have often been in need of more headspace. I have reduced my hours at work – and I find that a day off during the week is a regular reminder to me that life is not all about paid employment, and gives me time to catch up with to-do lists and freedom to spend more time with people.
I am making new friends and deepening friendships with others. I have joined a lovely choir. And I have seen the good news of the Christian faith being shared in many different contexts.
The summer has been particularly busy. Over the past few weeks, we have seen lots of visiting children in our Sunday sessions for kids. There has been a team of people on the beach engaging with families. Various people spent time in the town centre talking to people about their thoughts about God. I spent one morning with them, walking up and down the high street (with a friend who was wearing an inflatable horse and cowboy suit) inviting people to our church ‘Wild West’ themed holiday club, which is happening this week.
And several of us spent a week in the Scottish borders on an 11-14s camp, which despite the rain, exhaustion, and physical challenges, gave us so many opportunities to talk about Jesus. It was a joy to see teenagers think about the message of hope for themselves, but I am still recovering from the week! I haven’t been away for a break yet, although one of the delights of living here is that an ordinary day off by the sea can feel like an instant holiday.
There are always smaller everyday conversations to be had, with Christians and others, encouraging each other in what can seem like small ways but that can have a lasting impact. I am often not as bold as I should be, and there is a challenge to make more of our normal interactions with the people who “happen to be there”.
I asked my midweek small group to pray with me a few months back that I would use the space in my house and the time in my week well. I have had so many opportunities to use the house I’ve been given – from hosting meals, to family holidays, from friends visiting the coast, to beach team volunteers, and even Christmas.
Life still feels hectic at times. There are good days and bad days. I need to take my comfort from God’s faithful promises in the Bible, rather than the changeable attention of those around me. I am trying to recognise my own limitations, and think about how I can best use my free hours. I will undoubtedly make mistakes in every one of these things.
As I sit and look back, I can also look forward with confidence. I may not know what the next two years might hold, but I know that I face them with a loving church family, and an unchanging God.
The second year has flown by even faster than the first. I feel properly settled in my home, in church, and at work. And yet, the past year has brought its own set of changes and challenges at work, at home, with family, among friends. Anxieties, hopes, celebrations, disappointments.
My mind takes longer to process things, emotions run high, and I have often been in need of more headspace. I have reduced my hours at work – and I find that a day off during the week is a regular reminder to me that life is not all about paid employment, and gives me time to catch up with to-do lists and freedom to spend more time with people.
I am making new friends and deepening friendships with others. I have joined a lovely choir. And I have seen the good news of the Christian faith being shared in many different contexts.
The summer has been particularly busy. Over the past few weeks, we have seen lots of visiting children in our Sunday sessions for kids. There has been a team of people on the beach engaging with families. Various people spent time in the town centre talking to people about their thoughts about God. I spent one morning with them, walking up and down the high street (with a friend who was wearing an inflatable horse and cowboy suit) inviting people to our church ‘Wild West’ themed holiday club, which is happening this week.
And several of us spent a week in the Scottish borders on an 11-14s camp, which despite the rain, exhaustion, and physical challenges, gave us so many opportunities to talk about Jesus. It was a joy to see teenagers think about the message of hope for themselves, but I am still recovering from the week! I haven’t been away for a break yet, although one of the delights of living here is that an ordinary day off by the sea can feel like an instant holiday.
There are always smaller everyday conversations to be had, with Christians and others, encouraging each other in what can seem like small ways but that can have a lasting impact. I am often not as bold as I should be, and there is a challenge to make more of our normal interactions with the people who “happen to be there”.
I asked my midweek small group to pray with me a few months back that I would use the space in my house and the time in my week well. I have had so many opportunities to use the house I’ve been given – from hosting meals, to family holidays, from friends visiting the coast, to beach team volunteers, and even Christmas.
Life still feels hectic at times. There are good days and bad days. I need to take my comfort from God’s faithful promises in the Bible, rather than the changeable attention of those around me. I am trying to recognise my own limitations, and think about how I can best use my free hours. I will undoubtedly make mistakes in every one of these things.
As I sit and look back, I can also look forward with confidence. I may not know what the next two years might hold, but I know that I face them with a loving church family, and an unchanging God.
Tuesday, 12 February 2019
Recognise what God has promised you
Life is hard.
Work is frustrating. People get sick. The car breaks down. Relationships are difficult. Kids act up. People we love reject Jesus. We have dark days. Many more things could be added to this list, but this is often the reality of our earthly experience.
Too often we deal with sadness and disappointment by telling ourselves things will get better. We comfort ourselves and those around us in the face of struggles by saying things like “I’m sure it will get easier”, “tomorrow will be better”, or “the right thing is just around the corner”.
I’m not saying it’s wrong to have a positive outlook – I do believe that looking for the rays of sunshine helps us to face many difficulties. But the problem with this kind of response is that it is not based on God’s truth as revealed in the Bible. This is empty, earthly philosophy and we should call it out.
The Bible does not promise a pain-free life on this earth. If we put our faith in Jesus Christ for our salvation, we are not suddenly exempt from difficulties of various kinds. We need to have a right perspective if we are to trust the Lord in the face of life’s disappointments. We should encourage one another in our troubles, but we can do so with better words of truth that offer lasting comfort.
God does have a plan for you. He knows every hair on your head. And his plans are for your ultimate good – that is, to make you more and more like Jesus himself. So recognise what God has promised you. Don’t put your hope in things that are not guaranteed – this is only setting yourself up for further disappointment.
As children of God, we have a hope that is better than the ‘wishful thinking’ kind of hope. Let’s not confuse the two. Our real future hope is so certain – I was reminded before Christmas of the way the Bible often talks about these things of the future in the past tense, so certain are they of reaching their fulfilment. We’re trusting in our Father as we wait for promise to become reality, not biting our nails wondering if Jesus will come through. He already has.
God’s word promises a wonderful eternity if we trust him. Isaiah 9 states there will be “no more gloom” because of the coming of God’s chosen one. One of my favourite passages in Revelation 21 looks ahead to the new heaven and new earth, promising us there will be “no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away”.
And St Paul writes of the assurance of our future resurrection in 2 Corinthians 4: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
This is where we need to fix our eyes. It is often hard. Sometimes my earthly situations just seem so all-consuming that I barely have the energy to focus on anything else. But we are told that these things are light and momentary when compared to our wonderful future hope.
I said to a friend recently that God is in the business of making beautiful things out of the mess. We see glimpses of this in our lives, and we thank God for them. Relationships restored. Desperate situations turned around. People being brought from spiritual death to spiritual life.
Our difficult situations don’t always last a lifetime, but they don’t always magically disappear. God does not promise to take it all away while we live on this earth. But he is at work in you now, and we can be assured that all pain will be removed in that glorious future. So be encouraged today, and recognise what God has promised you.
Work is frustrating. People get sick. The car breaks down. Relationships are difficult. Kids act up. People we love reject Jesus. We have dark days. Many more things could be added to this list, but this is often the reality of our earthly experience.
Too often we deal with sadness and disappointment by telling ourselves things will get better. We comfort ourselves and those around us in the face of struggles by saying things like “I’m sure it will get easier”, “tomorrow will be better”, or “the right thing is just around the corner”.
I’m not saying it’s wrong to have a positive outlook – I do believe that looking for the rays of sunshine helps us to face many difficulties. But the problem with this kind of response is that it is not based on God’s truth as revealed in the Bible. This is empty, earthly philosophy and we should call it out.
The Bible does not promise a pain-free life on this earth. If we put our faith in Jesus Christ for our salvation, we are not suddenly exempt from difficulties of various kinds. We need to have a right perspective if we are to trust the Lord in the face of life’s disappointments. We should encourage one another in our troubles, but we can do so with better words of truth that offer lasting comfort.
God does have a plan for you. He knows every hair on your head. And his plans are for your ultimate good – that is, to make you more and more like Jesus himself. So recognise what God has promised you. Don’t put your hope in things that are not guaranteed – this is only setting yourself up for further disappointment.
As children of God, we have a hope that is better than the ‘wishful thinking’ kind of hope. Let’s not confuse the two. Our real future hope is so certain – I was reminded before Christmas of the way the Bible often talks about these things of the future in the past tense, so certain are they of reaching their fulfilment. We’re trusting in our Father as we wait for promise to become reality, not biting our nails wondering if Jesus will come through. He already has.
God’s word promises a wonderful eternity if we trust him. Isaiah 9 states there will be “no more gloom” because of the coming of God’s chosen one. One of my favourite passages in Revelation 21 looks ahead to the new heaven and new earth, promising us there will be “no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away”.
And St Paul writes of the assurance of our future resurrection in 2 Corinthians 4: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
This is where we need to fix our eyes. It is often hard. Sometimes my earthly situations just seem so all-consuming that I barely have the energy to focus on anything else. But we are told that these things are light and momentary when compared to our wonderful future hope.
I said to a friend recently that God is in the business of making beautiful things out of the mess. We see glimpses of this in our lives, and we thank God for them. Relationships restored. Desperate situations turned around. People being brought from spiritual death to spiritual life.
Our difficult situations don’t always last a lifetime, but they don’t always magically disappear. God does not promise to take it all away while we live on this earth. But he is at work in you now, and we can be assured that all pain will be removed in that glorious future. So be encouraged today, and recognise what God has promised you.
Saturday, 25 August 2018
Great is his faithfulness
This week marks my first anniversary in Scarbados. Bring out the party rings!
One year ago, with a little help from my friends, I packed my life into three cars, and set off for the east coast. I am a self-confessed hater of change, yet there I was doing this voluntarily. Over the past year, it has seemed as though pretty much everything that could change, has. New church, new job, new friends, new house, even a new car.
I have always found writing a helpful way of processing my thoughts, and I set out with good intentions of writing regularly, but somehow over the past twelve months I have done a lot of thinking and not much writing. This has probably been helped by the many (many) hours I have spent driving. Easy to think, difficult to hold a pen.
There have been many new challenges to face, old fears to confront, and exciting things to experience. I have achieved goals I secretly thought were too grown-up for me, and tackled change with an uncharacteristically tough skin.
One thing that has kept me going when all the change has seemed too much is the RAFT framework used by missionaries preparing to transition (you can look it up!). The simple acronym – Reconciliation, Affirmation, Farewells, Thinking ahead to the destination – was immensely useful in preparing to leave well, but has also served to encourage me when I have been tempted to think it was a mad idea.
In all of the new things, the Lord has sustained me with new compassions daily: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22-23)
And he has provided countless blessings along the way. I am grateful to the many brothers and sisters I left behind who have called, sent messages, prayed, written and visited. Two dear sisters in Christ have faithfully called almost every week. Of course it is important to put down new roots and not to pine after an old life, but it has been a great help to reflect on all these new experiences with those who already know me well.
The biggest blessing of all has been the provision of a new church family. I had met a few people here before the move, but I didn’t know anyone well. Yet the Lord has created a loving, sharing, serving community of people in the local church, and he is growing us all. From day one I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of this fellowship, from offering meals, conversation and advice, to accompanying me on house viewings and doing DIY.
We are called to live out our faith in community with others, in life’s ups and downs. Sometimes this seems easy, and sometimes it is a bit of a battle! But particularly when life throws us challenges, we can encourage each other that our eternal future is secure, and we are not facing our uncertain earthly future alone.
Whether the past twelve months have seemed a season of blessing or trial to you, take comfort and strength from the words of John Newton’s famous hymn, Amazing Grace:
“Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.”
You and I might not know what the next year (or even the next 24 hours) will hold, but we do know that he who calls us is faithful.
One year ago, with a little help from my friends, I packed my life into three cars, and set off for the east coast. I am a self-confessed hater of change, yet there I was doing this voluntarily. Over the past year, it has seemed as though pretty much everything that could change, has. New church, new job, new friends, new house, even a new car.
I have always found writing a helpful way of processing my thoughts, and I set out with good intentions of writing regularly, but somehow over the past twelve months I have done a lot of thinking and not much writing. This has probably been helped by the many (many) hours I have spent driving. Easy to think, difficult to hold a pen.
There have been many new challenges to face, old fears to confront, and exciting things to experience. I have achieved goals I secretly thought were too grown-up for me, and tackled change with an uncharacteristically tough skin.
One thing that has kept me going when all the change has seemed too much is the RAFT framework used by missionaries preparing to transition (you can look it up!). The simple acronym – Reconciliation, Affirmation, Farewells, Thinking ahead to the destination – was immensely useful in preparing to leave well, but has also served to encourage me when I have been tempted to think it was a mad idea.
In all of the new things, the Lord has sustained me with new compassions daily: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22-23)
And he has provided countless blessings along the way. I am grateful to the many brothers and sisters I left behind who have called, sent messages, prayed, written and visited. Two dear sisters in Christ have faithfully called almost every week. Of course it is important to put down new roots and not to pine after an old life, but it has been a great help to reflect on all these new experiences with those who already know me well.
The biggest blessing of all has been the provision of a new church family. I had met a few people here before the move, but I didn’t know anyone well. Yet the Lord has created a loving, sharing, serving community of people in the local church, and he is growing us all. From day one I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of this fellowship, from offering meals, conversation and advice, to accompanying me on house viewings and doing DIY.
We are called to live out our faith in community with others, in life’s ups and downs. Sometimes this seems easy, and sometimes it is a bit of a battle! But particularly when life throws us challenges, we can encourage each other that our eternal future is secure, and we are not facing our uncertain earthly future alone.
Whether the past twelve months have seemed a season of blessing or trial to you, take comfort and strength from the words of John Newton’s famous hymn, Amazing Grace:
“Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.”
You and I might not know what the next year (or even the next 24 hours) will hold, but we do know that he who calls us is faithful.
Thursday, 10 August 2017
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
One thing I've been surprised by since I started telling people I was going to Scarborough is how few of them have sung this song in response. But I've had 'songs of encouragement' in so many other ways in recent months.
I joked about moving to Scarborough after being given a copy of 'The Seafront Tea Rooms' by Vanessa Greene a couple of years ago. It's an ordinary work of fiction set on the North Yorkshire coast, but I'd often thought about going to join a smaller church in a Northern town so the setting was of special interest to me as I read.
I first heard about Trinity Church Scarborough last November while constructing IKEA flat pack furniture for a friend. I tried to brush it off, but at the very next church prayer meeting we prayed about new church plants in Yorkshire, and our table was asked to pray for Scarborough.
After sitting on it for a while, I started asking questions. I decided to keep pushing at the door until I came across a reason not to pursue it any further, but no reason came. I started applying for jobs and was offered one a couple of months later.
That suddenly made it all seem real, and a bit more scary. I don't doubt that in the coming weeks and months I will find myself asking 'what have I done?', as the goodbyes and all the other changes take their toll.
But God has provided every step of the way, and I am sure he will continue to do so. So I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other, and leave the rest to him.
I joked about moving to Scarborough after being given a copy of 'The Seafront Tea Rooms' by Vanessa Greene a couple of years ago. It's an ordinary work of fiction set on the North Yorkshire coast, but I'd often thought about going to join a smaller church in a Northern town so the setting was of special interest to me as I read.
I first heard about Trinity Church Scarborough last November while constructing IKEA flat pack furniture for a friend. I tried to brush it off, but at the very next church prayer meeting we prayed about new church plants in Yorkshire, and our table was asked to pray for Scarborough.
After sitting on it for a while, I started asking questions. I decided to keep pushing at the door until I came across a reason not to pursue it any further, but no reason came. I started applying for jobs and was offered one a couple of months later.
That suddenly made it all seem real, and a bit more scary. I don't doubt that in the coming weeks and months I will find myself asking 'what have I done?', as the goodbyes and all the other changes take their toll.
But God has provided every step of the way, and I am sure he will continue to do so. So I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other, and leave the rest to him.
Wednesday, 19 July 2017
In God's hands
I often find myself asking God what my earthly future holds, wanting to know what might happen to me, or to those around me.
A friend gets an exciting new job and I wonder what my next career step will be. I watch a film where a boy and girl get their own happily ever after, and I wonder if that will happen to me. I see a friend have the courage to move to a new place, and I wonder where I might live one day. I often want to know the answers to these and I bring them to God.
From my experience of trying to walk with the Lord, he doesn't generally tell us what he is going to do in the detail of life before he does it. So our calling is to trust in his faithfulness. In his faithfulness to us and to his promises as revealed in the Bible. There are things we are certain he will bring about. But there are lots of things in life that are less clear. God doesn't promise to tell us what he is going to do or when he is going to do it. But when we call to him wanting answers, we know he hears us and he cares.
God does not necessarily mark out mini milestones for us to reach, like a baby toddling between pieces of furniture a few steps at a time, always looking for the next secure thing to grab hold of. But he holds us completely in his hands, like a parent with a newborn.
A minister friend of mine once said that if we could see all the ups and downs in our lives before they came about, we would not have the strength to face them. God doesn't show us a roadmap of our earthly lives in advance. Instead, he calls us to trust him.
We are called to take baby steps, and indeed giant leaps, not because we can see what's coming, but because he can, and he will never leave us.
A friend gets an exciting new job and I wonder what my next career step will be. I watch a film where a boy and girl get their own happily ever after, and I wonder if that will happen to me. I see a friend have the courage to move to a new place, and I wonder where I might live one day. I often want to know the answers to these and I bring them to God.
From my experience of trying to walk with the Lord, he doesn't generally tell us what he is going to do in the detail of life before he does it. So our calling is to trust in his faithfulness. In his faithfulness to us and to his promises as revealed in the Bible. There are things we are certain he will bring about. But there are lots of things in life that are less clear. God doesn't promise to tell us what he is going to do or when he is going to do it. But when we call to him wanting answers, we know he hears us and he cares.
God does not necessarily mark out mini milestones for us to reach, like a baby toddling between pieces of furniture a few steps at a time, always looking for the next secure thing to grab hold of. But he holds us completely in his hands, like a parent with a newborn.
A minister friend of mine once said that if we could see all the ups and downs in our lives before they came about, we would not have the strength to face them. God doesn't show us a roadmap of our earthly lives in advance. Instead, he calls us to trust him.
We are called to take baby steps, and indeed giant leaps, not because we can see what's coming, but because he can, and he will never leave us.
Monday, 20 March 2017
It's not about the broccoli
In case it’s not already highlighted in your diaries as the focal point of your month, 23rd March is Broccoli Appreciation Day (according to a highly official diary I was given several years ago).
Each year I insist on celebrating this feast day with friends, in what has essentially become a broccoli-themed Ready Steady Cook. There was the year of the broccoli and blue garlic appetisers, the time I tried chocolate truffles garnished with raw broccoli spears – and there’s usually some kind of pasta and broccoli bake to form the main carb component.
Despite all this, however, I actually have a small confession to make: I’m not that big a fan of broccoli. I mean, it’s ok (if you have ever cooked me broccoli, I’ve not been hiding it in my handbag or anything). As vegetables go, it’s quite tasty, and the little trees are quite cute.
But Broccoli Appreciation Day has come to be about more than just the broccoli. It’s an excuse to gather with others, to prepare and share a meal together, and to find fun in the everyday.
If broccoli really isn’t your thing, find something else. Find something that helps you connect with another human being, because we were made to relate to others.
Watching a film you could take or leave because a friend has no one to go to the cinema with. Saying yes to playing a sport you’re not that keen on because it’s a way to get alongside someone else who wants to. Getting involved with some DIY or wall painting for someone that just need doing.
Ultimately all these activities are just surface decoration. What matters most is what’s happening underneath them – the art of building community with other people, however small.
And if broccoli is really someone else’s thing, join in anyway, and if necessary, hide it in your handbag.
This post was also published on Those Lines.
Each year I insist on celebrating this feast day with friends, in what has essentially become a broccoli-themed Ready Steady Cook. There was the year of the broccoli and blue garlic appetisers, the time I tried chocolate truffles garnished with raw broccoli spears – and there’s usually some kind of pasta and broccoli bake to form the main carb component.
Despite all this, however, I actually have a small confession to make: I’m not that big a fan of broccoli. I mean, it’s ok (if you have ever cooked me broccoli, I’ve not been hiding it in my handbag or anything). As vegetables go, it’s quite tasty, and the little trees are quite cute.
But Broccoli Appreciation Day has come to be about more than just the broccoli. It’s an excuse to gather with others, to prepare and share a meal together, and to find fun in the everyday.
If broccoli really isn’t your thing, find something else. Find something that helps you connect with another human being, because we were made to relate to others.
Watching a film you could take or leave because a friend has no one to go to the cinema with. Saying yes to playing a sport you’re not that keen on because it’s a way to get alongside someone else who wants to. Getting involved with some DIY or wall painting for someone that just need doing.
Ultimately all these activities are just surface decoration. What matters most is what’s happening underneath them – the art of building community with other people, however small.
And if broccoli is really someone else’s thing, join in anyway, and if necessary, hide it in your handbag.
This post was also published on Those Lines.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)