The worst that could happen?

When I started to write this, I was about to go on holiday, and I was afraid. When we voice our fears, people often say, “what’s the worst that could happen?” And I suppose if my holiday fear was a fear of flying, or of becoming ill, then arguably the worst thing that could happen would, ultimately, be dying. And trusting in Jesus, death itself is not so bad after all, because something so much better follows.

But my fear is not of anything so tangible. My fear is of feeling anxious and afraid. Encouraging Harry in his anticipation of a Boggart Dementor in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Professor Lupin says, “that suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise.” But fear can soon become a vicious circle, what David Powlison of the Christian counselling ministry CCEF described in a talk on anxiety and panic as “the fear of the fear of the fear”. 

Dr Pepper: what's the worst that could happen?

When feeling suffocated with anxiety and panic, and somebody says “what’s the worst that can happen?” – the answer is “this”. This is the worst that can happen, because the fear very quickly becomes out of control, until you feel sick and dizzy and you can’t think about anything else. The anticipation of the worst happening actually brings it about.

But it drives me to bring it to God in prayer. Tonight a friend read this verse:
“those who hope in the LORD
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles” (Isaiah 40:31).
And it reminded me that, weak as we are, it is God who empowers us to continue. So this is my challenge: to learn to soar, relying on the strength only God can supply.

Love me do

As much as we like to pretend a lot of the time that we are self-sufficient and happily independent, in truth we spend much of our lives just wanting to be loved.

 

We make many friends and attach ourselves to different groups of people, yet often feel like we are on the edge of things.

 

We spend time with our families, but we seem to end up fighting with them or feeling like we don’t live up to expectations.

 

We look for romantic relationships, yet frequently face disappointment and rejection.

 

We can sometimes despair of ever feeling truly loved. But perhaps the problem is that we look for love in the wrong places. 

 

 

The Bible tells us that God loves us generously. The God who made us loves his rebellious children with a love so strong that he gave up his treasured son. John writes, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.” 

 

And although there are many blessings in our human relationships, there is more security and assurance in the love that God offers than we will find in any earthly love.

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“It’s ok for you, you’re skinny already.”

“Are you really going to eat that?”

“I wish I looked like you.”

This isn’t intended to be a rebuke, and I’m definitely not an expert, but when people make comments like this, there are a few assumptions at play that perhaps need questioning.

1. Assuming healthiness.
The food you eat and the amount of exercise you do are not necessarily reflected in the way you look. Be wary of believing people are healthy just because they look like your idea of perfect – it can make you both feel guilty.

2. Assuming happiness.
Personal comments, even complimentary ones, can make people feel uncomfortable and self-conscious, because now everyone is staring and they can only think about the things they don’t like about themselves. Anyone can have image issues, and while compliments are nice things, not everyone is in a state to receive them.

3. Assuming one-sidedness.
Comments about weight, particularly in our Western society, are often very one-sided. Note points 1 and 2, and be careful about making comments that you wouldn’t want reversed. 

This is a challenge to my own assumptions too – but it certainly isn’t meant to stop conversations about exercise, food or body image. Open and honest dialogue is a necessary and helpful thing, but it must be done in love in order to bring about real change.

Another year over and a new one just begun

And a very happy new year to you. It doesn’t seem twelve months since I last sat down to consider new year’s resolutions and the like. I may not be the biggest advocate of such things, but I believe striving to be more holy is worthwhile, and the start of a new year is a kind of rest stop to think about how we’re doing.

I love lists – writing them, crossing things off, rewriting them. I recently copied various lists from my old diary into my new one (I know, how old-school). At the start of 2015, I am also metaphorically transferring things from the 2014 resolutions list onto the new one for 2015.

Needless to say I have fallen short of the ideal many times in 2014, but each new year (and each new moment) is a new opportunity. My assessment for 2014? Not yet perfect. But let us not be downhearted by our failings, and instead give thanks for God’s grace. 

As John Newton put it, ‘I am not what I ought to be, nor what I wish to be, nor what I hope to be, [but] I can truly say, I am not what I once was. […] “By the grace of God, I am what I am.”’

Big company, little company

On my first day in my last job, I was fortunate enough to be working with a couple of people I already knew very well. So when I had trouble logging on to the network, one of the IT guys cheerfully told me, “We’ve set your password to your favourite Bible reference”. Not only did this instantly fix the problem, but it reassured me that I was in a friendly environment.

On my first day in my current job, once again I was unable to log on. I was advised to call IT, at which point I was informed I had been placed in a queue. The first available adviser was with me shortly, and although the problem was eventually fixed, it all felt rather impersonal.

As time passes, I notice more big company / small company differences, with a mixture of emotions. I like being the one person responsible for my area of work in my department. I worry about what will happen when I’m away or off sick. I struggle to know who to ask for help when I can’t embed my customised maps properly.

A big company affords the opportunity to move up more easily without moving out. Contracts, payroll and pensions are handled every day. When someone asks where you work, they can genuinely nod approvingly when you mention the name. 

A little company gives employees the chance to mix a bit more, to share ideas and issues, and get to know what is going on. The finance guy probably has a desk seconds away from the IT guy, and they are both experts on pretty much everything.

But what I am coming to realise is that it is not so much about where we work as how we work. Every company has its pros and cons, and every workplace provides opportunities to learn and to meet new people. We can be grateful for the blessings and persevere in the struggles, doing our best to shine like stars wherever we are.

Bus theory

Forgive me for a slightly more morbid musing than usual – maybe it’s because I recently finished reading The Fault in Our Stars. But I have a theory, which I have just nicknamed ‘bus theory’, which inspires the way I see the world and the way I make decisions.

The theory goes, quite simply, that you can’t bank on anything definitely happening to you, or not. You can make reasonably informed guesses and you can weigh up odds and memorise statistics, but ultimately, you can’t know for sure, because you’re not in control. You might get hit by a bus tomorrow (hence the name of the theory). The world might come to an end – and no one knows when that will be, not even Jesus (see Matthew 24:36).

There are some pretty big implications of bus theory to the way I live.

Bus theory asks that when I make decisions, I base them not on assumptions that my life will pan out in Cinderella fashion. 

Bus theory prevents me from making conventional choices just because they are statistically safer.

Bus theory leaves me free to marry Prince Charming even if the likelihood is he will die before me. (Bus theory actually means I can marry Shrek or the Hunchback of Notre Dame, because I can’t guarantee that tomorrow I won’t be in the same boat.)

Bus theory makes me feel better about not always managing to eat my five-a-day.

But bus theory also means being ready to face what comes. Worrying less about what might happen to me tomorrow, because I have no authority over that. Worrying less about the future altogether, because I know that my ultimate destiny is to be with Jesus forever.

Full steam ahead

On holiday I set myself a challenge to take pictures of various boating-related expressions. Some were easy...some not so easy. Sadly, what would have made a great example of “any port in a storm” was impossible to snap (even if I had had the presence of mind) by the fact that a) it was a storm, and b) I was trying to reach the port. May I present just a few of the results in an incomplete photographic account of life on the water...

Full steam ahead (at 2.5mph)

We gave them a wide berth

Light at the end of the tunnel

I’m a lock half-full kind of person

Like ships passing in the night (or day, as it happened)

They went swanning off

Water under the bridge

Whatever floats your boat...