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.

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.

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. 

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. 

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.

It's going to be ok.

Usually when I wake up in the morning, as my alarm drags me into the day and I fight to keep my eyes open, I turn to social media to get the cogs turning and catch up with the world. Yesterday morning (9 November 2016), however, I hesitated before tapping the little Facebook icon. This was going to be a big one. 

I knew I needed to engage with some more ground-breaking realities first before facing the next mad thing of 2016, whichever way the US election had gone while I slept. So, I tapped the Bible app instead and sleepily listened to the first two psalms. 

These verses talk about what makes a person blessed, about delighting in the Lord, and about real wisdom. They refocus our gaze on the number one priority: being right with God and knowing him. 

Psalm 2 is particularly striking. It talks about people and leaders plotting against God, and yet how little we need to fear that. It reminds me of the story of the tower of Babel, where people want to demonstrate their own greatness by building a huge tower to the heavens, which ironically God has to come down to look at. Humans are always trying to make themselves great, to seek power and prove their worth. But this psalm makes it abundantly clear that God has already appointed his chosen king, greater than any earthly leader. It ends with a call to submit to that king, Jesus Christ, and celebrate his rule – for that is where true blessing lies. 

These truths are a great way to start any day, but they were particularly welcome yesterday. Armed with the truth of God's promises, I ventured into the online world, and was so very glad to have prepared my heart. There were so many messages of despair and people crying 'God help us' without any actual hope of his doing so. It made me sad to realise the hopelessness of so many who do not have the comfort of these words when world affairs do not go the way they would wish. Even those who were satisfied with the outcome would benefit from knowing this promise of a far better ruler. 

I'm so thankful to know that these words are true. It is a joy to be certain of Christ's future reign in the daily grind, but especially so to be assured on more momentous days that God is in control and will bring all things under the rule and authority of Jesus Christ. 

Psalm 2 says that in the face of the world's rulers plotting together, the One enthroned in heaven laughs. Most of us probably don't feel like laughing at the state of the world, whatever our reaction to this week's news, but the creator can scoff at these things. He has already chosen a much bigger and better king than even our favourite president. 

So don't place either your despair or your confidence in the leaders of the world. Leaders come and leaders go; nothing shocks the God who made them all. Instead, listen to the call of God's word, and look to that perfect ruler who lasts forever.

This post was also published on Those Lines.

Just so

I like things just so, and I like to get things right first time. I think I'm what they call a perfectionist. 

I put lots of time into getting something just the way I want it, I have set ways of doing things, and I agonise over seemingly simple decisions. I carefully plan and prepare. I pack for holidays using a list, check my car before a long drive, read and re-read instructions. 

If you're much like me, these probably sound like normal, sensible choices. But the more I interact with different people, the more I question why I do what I do. 

This was highlighted for me recently when driving with a passenger, and there was a car parked in the spot I usually use to manoeuvre. When faced with an unexpected choice in the car, some people go into panic mode; others just make a snap decision and stick with it. 

I will stop in the middle of the road to think about it (ahem...only if it is safe to do so).

I pack using a tried-and-tested list. Because I don't want to forget anything. And because I don't want to own up to having forgotten something.

I check my oil and tyre pressure. Because I don't want to break down, sure, but also because it's what I've been told to do, and if I do break down, I don't want it to be my fault.

I obsess over the detail of instructions. Because I don't want to make a mistake. I want to get it right on the first attempt, and I don't want to have to admit I misunderstood. 

My careful actions all work for the avoidance of regret, of shame, and of looking bad. In short, my perfectionism serves my pride – it is sin. 

I am proud of remembering things, having a clean record, and not missing details. These things might not seem like bad things, but when I hold my achievements and reputation more highly than the wise use of my time and more highly than the feelings of others (or, er, the Highway Code), there is clearly a problem. 

And it's a problem that seems impossible to fix by myself. The thought of letting go of these things is horrifying, and easy to reason away. But perhaps when I next make a mistake – I am still human, after all – I could start by holding my hands up and admitting I am not perfect. And little by little, my perfect Maker can change my heart.