Trials – Mum in Zone One

Learning to Lament

I wrote yesterday about my recent journey of discovery regarding my own wisdom and God’s wisdom. (The upshot: God is infinitely wise; I’m not.)

A month ago I was diagnosed with a rare, chronic endocrine disorder called Addison’s Disease. If you’re the type of person who worries that they have an illness, let me tell you that the chances of you having it are infinitesimally small. (Seriously, if you’re somebody who a) reads my blog and b) knows they have Addison’s, please comment below. And perhaps buy a lottery ticket (joke).)

This is a chronic condition that is treatable but not curable. I’ll most likely have it until (whoop whoop) I get my new body from the Lord Jesus.

Let me tell you that these past few weeks have not been a time of serenely delving into God’s word and floating on a cloud of the peace which transcends understanding. I hope I can encourage you today, but from the perspective of someone who’s weak and broken in the storm rather than someone sleeping on a cushion.

When shocking news comes, most people go through a range of emotions. I’ve been through a few and haven’t finished. There was a day when I cried a lot. I prayed and I didn’t feel like praying, I listened to music, I talked to family members. I was grief-stricken. I was grieving the loss of my health.

I’m so grateful, and I was even on that teary day, that we’re allowed to be sad. Here are some things you sometimes hear, which don’t help at all:

Life is hard and we should expect things like this

I know we live in a fallen and broken world, full of disease and death. But I also know that God made us for life, not death, and our hearts long for the world without any of this. (See for example Romans 8:22-25)

I’m strong

I’m weak. There’s nothing quite like an illness to drive this home. But in my weakness, the Lord is my strength. (See for example 2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

Things could be worse: I should just be grateful for the care I’m given

I am grateful for good care. Chatting to a friend from Côte d’Ivoire, I was reminded that I don’t need to choose between food and medicine. But I’m also grateful that God doesn’t compare me to others, and I’m allowed to be sad about the dependence on medicine whilst also giving thanks for his provision.

It’s not a big deal

It feels big to me. The Lord doesn’t weigh up my problem and decide whether to meet us in it or not. (Remember when God made Elisha’s mate’s axe head float?) He knows our hearts. He’s patient with me, guiding me through. The more we depend on him, the more we honour him. (See for example Psalm 23; Psalm 131)

(Aside: Sometimes we don’t feel able to read our Bibles. That’s when we need our friends to preach to us. I hope you’ve got friends like that. I’ve also found that using a Bible app that reads the Word out to me can help me when I don’t have the energy to lift my head.)

So it’s not wrong to be sad about things. But if I had no hope, I’m not sure I’d dare to lament.

As a Christian, with the hope of eternal life, I see in the psalms that lamenting is a process which doesn’t last forever. In order to reach the level ground of acceptance or the dizzy heights of heartfelt, joyful thanksgiving, I need to pass through the valley of lament.

A dear friend preached Psalm 13 to me the week I was diagnosed. She showed me that the Lord has gone before me. He knows that at times I will feel that he has hidden his face from me. I will wrestle with my thought as my mind races with fears and anxiety and my heart is filled with sorrow. But because I bring all of that to him, I can say with David:

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me. (v5-6)

Who Knows?

Who knows the first line of Wordsworth’s ‘Daffodils’?

“I wandered lonely as a cloud.” (Even if you didn’t know that, if you mention Wordsworth or daffodils in a group of people, someone will say it.)

Who knows the second line?

Not so many people.*

This makes sense, of course. Some lines are memorable and we can’t know everything. I was reminded of this today when reading Psalm 139. There are some pretty famous bits in that one, and without conducting any research I’d have thought the most famous bit is this:

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well. (v13-14)

I for one am glad these verses are in our Bible. So clear for those who think the unborn child has no value. So helpful for those desperate to measure up to a false standard of ‘perfection’ that they see on their phones every day.

Do you know the next bit? I actually do because we put it in our Order of Service 17 years ago when we got married. But today I was struck by the verse after that: the verse after the bit that I know really well:

My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
    How vast is the sum of them! v15-17

This verse (17) jumped out at me today. In light of the fact that God made me, cell by cell, and knows the end from the beginning, my heart should praise God for his thoughts and his wisdom – his unfathomable wisdom, which I can never, never ever get my head around.

It reminded me of another passage in Isaiah 55:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.” v8-9

In other words, I could say to myself: Hey you, God’s wisdom is infinitely greater than yours. You think you know what should be happening right now. But you don’t. So here’s what to do:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Maybe this is what you need to remember today, too. Maybe you’ve been asking, seeking, knocking and not seeing the answers you’d hoped for. Maybe you’re sick or your to-do list has been interrupted. Maybe your dishwasher is broken and it’s a luxury you’ve come to rely on. Maybe you missed an appointment. Maybe something you’d been hoping and praying for looked really promising and then fell through. Maybe you feel you’re the one who’s let everyone down.

Just between you and me, that’s what my week’s been like. So I’m really grateful today that the Lord has answered my cries for help with a reminder that he is the one with the wisdom. I’m the one who needs to trust him. I’ve been getting that the wrong way round.

More from me tomorrow. I know! Nothing for months and then a windfall.

*I’m pretty sure it’s ‘That floats on high o’er vales and hills.’ But I did study English at university so I don’t really count.

Delight!

How do I worship God when I’m cooking the tea?

Hey lovely people. This week my husband and I make an appearance with the wonderful Adam Curtis and Leah Sax on their fantastic Delight Podcast and you can now listen to it either through their website, on Spotify or via your podcast app. It’s Episode 12. Please do listen! You’ll get to hear how we sound! More importantly(!) I trust it will be an encouragement. Well done Leah for her amazing editing skills!

We chatted about how we came to know Jesus, what it means to worship God every day of the week – and what to do when we don’t feel like worshipping him.

I also wrote a blog post to accompany our episode and it can be found on the Delight Podcast Blog. I hope this, too, encourages you to delight in the Lord above all else, in all of life. Amen!

***

P.S. If my previous blog post about Mrs Beaver got you thinking, the Delight podcast did a brilliant episode on hospitality recently too. It’s Episode 10.

Resources for Starting Secondary School…

(… or homeschooling tweens!)

Last week I posted a tip for helping your child settle into secondary school. After all, I think we need all the help we can get. Here I’d like to recommend some resources which I think are a great help, too. These will also be helpful if your child is educated at home.

First a little Health and Safety Warning: Once your children start secondary school their routine at home will change. You might need to find a different time to read the Bible with them. They need God’s living and active word more than anything.

Books

Chris Morphew books: These are written in a very readable, quite light-hearted way by an Australian author who writes books for youth and children. We’d previously really enjoyed his book on Mark’s gospel, The Best News Ever, and we’re enjoying this new series.

The books tackle questions that young people might be asking, especially as they navigate secondary school and adolescence. My daughter and I are reading through ‘Who am I and why do I matter?’ This is surely a question that is more pertinent now for adolescents than ever before. If our kids know the fundamental truths about who they are and how valuable they are, then they just might save themselves a lot of trouble.

The ‘Is Christianity really true?’ is a question my children have grappled with already as they attend/attended a richly diverse community school, surrounded by people of other faiths. My son gobbled this book down in about half an hour and really enjoyed it. Rest assured it would take most people longer than that, especially if you’re reading it out loud! But it is nice and easy to read, which is a real win for tweens (and busy parents).

I think with books like these, it’s good to get ahead of the curve with your kids if you can. By this I mean that it’s good to read a book about identity issues before they even realise they might be faced with that problem. So when you’re reading the books, don’t be discouraged if they don’t say, “This is answering all of my current questions, praise the Lord!” Prevention is better than a cure.

Podcast

I’ve mentioned the Faith in Kids podcast before, but it’s worth mentioning again as there are some excellent episodes about adolescence. Episode 88, Hope-Filled Teens, very much encouraged me the other day. Going back further, there’s Episode 67: Parenting 11-14s, and Episode 14 (or 13b), Lovewise Part 2 which is specifically about guiding children through puberty. Really helpful! Also, I urge you to listen to Episode 80, Navigating Gender and Sexuality with Ed Shaw. This is very reassuring and also a bit of a wake-up call. As you may know, I do think Ed Shaw’s book should be on life’s compulsory reading list, anyway! So do have a listen to these podcasts. They’ll make you laugh and maybe cry but they’re so down-to-earth and practical. They surprise me every time with how helpful and joyous they are.

If you haven’t talked to your child yet about puberty, I recommend the books ‘Growing up God’s way for Boys/Girls.’ We’ve used them to have frank conversations about how our bodies change and why it’s a good thing (really!).

How about you? Any suggestions? I’m a novice!

Video

If you’ve got Netflix, I highly recommend watching The Social Dilemma with your child. It’s a sobering and honest documentary about how social media is designed and why it works so well. They interview many, many people who’ve been instrumental in designing social media (for example, the man who co-invented the Facebook ‘Like’ button) and who’ve now left for ethical reasons. You don’t feel lectured and they’re not scare-mongering. But it’s certainly good to know how we’re being manipulated! I’d even suggest getting Netflix for a month just to watch it – we might do that with our son.

Finally, and perhaps controversially, I wanted to share a video with you about the adolescent brain. This is by Dr Dan Siegel who’s a clinical professor of psychiatry. There are some really helpful things to learn from educational psychologists and from psychiatrists about the adolescent brain. But we need to look at them through gospel lenses. We believe in sin and grace and a good Creator who is working in us by his Spirit. However, it is really cool to learn how the brain changes in adolescence. I think it gives us hope that adolescence is an exciting time for our children!

Please comment below with any other tips! I’m sure people would really appreciate it. (And by people I mean me, first and foremost.)

Lessons from the Jungle

I mentioned in my last post, Why Bother with Biographies?, that I’ve recently read Evidence Not Seen by Darlene Deibler Rose. I once heard Rachel Jankovic say that this is a book that “every human should read,” and I tend to agree, so please don’t read this post in lieu of reading the book. Instead, I hope (for your own sake) that this wee post inspires you to read the book – which, incidentally, is not too long either.

I don’t want to give away the best bits so I’ll try to be brief. I’ve got four encouragements from Darlene’s memoir:

Angels are Busy Doing Stuff

I feel like there are a lot of Christians (myself included) who are a bit shy about angels. We’ve got a children’s book which says, “Angels are everywhere. There might be some here with us right now.” A friend of mine read it once, glanced at me nervously and said, “Do we believe that?”

Perhaps we’re put off by all the dodgy Christmas cards depicting angels as babies with wings. Perhaps we’re put off by the false teachers we’re warned about in Colossians 2 who “delight in false humility and the worship of angels.” Maybe we’re just embarrassed. Whatever the reason, I for one have acted as though angels don’t exist anymore. And yet, they continue to do the Lord’s bidding:

For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
¹²they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91:11-12)
Praise the Lord, you his angels,
    you mighty ones who do his bidding,
    who obey his word.
²¹Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts,
    you his servants who do his will. (Psalm 103:20-21)

When we pray for God’s help and protection, it might be that he’s sending angels to care for us. I find this an encouraging thought. The spiritual realm is real, and our team has already won.

Children’s Songs Matter

Things got bad for Darlene; then they got worse. When she was most afraid, the songs she’d learned as a child came back to her – songs she thought she’d long forgotten:

My face and hands were wet with cold perspiration; never had I known such terror. Suddenly I found I was singing a song that I had learned as a little girl… So tenderly my Lord wrapped his strong arms of quietness and calm about me. I knew they could lock me in, but they couldn’t lock my wonderful Lord out. Jesus was there in the cell with me.
p. 114

This should encourage us if we are parents of young children (or have any dealings with young children at church). The songs they’re learning now will stick with them. A friend who’s now a missionary once told me that it’s important that we sing sound doctrine with our children because the songs he learnt as a child are the songs he knows best.

Wishy-washy fun schmaltz isn’t going to help a person much if they’re in the firing line. On the other hand, the truths they sing now, even those songs that you’re a bit sick of hearing, might be a lifeline for them one day. (I wrote about this previously.)

Scripture is Worth Memorising

Similarly to the songs, Darlene was sustained by the Word of God that she’d memorised. When her Bible was taken away, she still had the Word written on her heart:

The Lord fed me with the Living Bread that had been stored against the day when fresh supply was cut off by the loss of my Bible. He brought daily comfort and encouragement – yes, and joy – to my heart through the knowledge of the Word.
p. 129

Like the tins of fruit I was grateful for when we couldn’t get to the supermarket last year, there may be times in our lives, or our children’s lives, when stored-up Scripture is the only Scripture available. I don’t want empty cupboards if and when that day comes.

And even now, if I’m struggling to sleep or I’m anxious about something, it’s the Scripture I’ve memorised that helps me the most. So it doesn’t need to be at times of extreme suffering that you need the Word hidden in your heart. (For more on this, I recommend “Deeper Still,” which I wrote about here.)

He’s With me When I Don’t Feel it

Many times in Darlene’s account she cries out to God and hears Him answer her through his Word. This is a huge encouragement and a reminder that in times of desperation, the Lord does not abandon us.

But it might lead us to wonder about the times when we’ve prayed and not really heard or felt the Lord answer us clearly. It might make me wonder if I would know the Lord’s presence in the same way if I were in a terrifying situation like that.

In answer to this niggling question, there is a truly glorious moment in the book. There is a time when Darlene does not feel the Lord’s presence with her. Her emotions are telling her that He isn’t there. And then she remembers that our faith isn’t being certain of what we can see or feel:

I was assured that my faith rested not on feelings, not on moments of ecstasy but on the Person of my matchless, changeless Saviour, in Whom is no shadow caused by turning… More than ever before, I knew that I could ever and always put my trust, my faith, in my glorious Lord.
p.141

At her lowest point, it wasn’t the feeling of the Lord’s presence that helped her but her trust in His promises. There are times when we are ecstatic with joy in the Lord, and this is a wonderful blessing. But if our relationship with God is based on those times, we will not endure. His unchanging Word will sustain us when our feelings ebb and flow. We trust in what He will do for us, because of who He is and what He has already done in the past:

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
Hebrews 11, verse 1

Quotations are from Evidence Not Seen by Darlene Deibler Rose, Authentic Media reprint 2020. We got ours at 10ofthose.com

Why Bother with Biographies?

In the Summer of 2014, the so-called Islamic State raged through Syria and Iraq, terrorising and murdering thousands, especially those who refused to convert to Islam. I think I was on holiday in an idyllic Welsh holiday village when I first heard about it. In the months that followed, as the situation in the Middle East grew worse, I found it difficult to hear the stories and still trust my good, sovereign God. I wrote about this at the time if you’d like to read about it.

Around this time I asked a lady I know to have a coffee with me. I asked her how we could still trust God, when our brothers and sisters were suffering so badly. I asked her because she’s wise, and because she too has suffered at the hands of wicked men. While living as missionaries in Nigeria, she and her husband were brutally attacked in their home by an armed gang. If she could still trust that our God is good and faithful, then I wanted her to show me how. I remember her telling me (amongst many other things) that what happened to them was what she had feared would happen and had prayed would not happen. Sometimes God’s answer to our prayers is not, “I won’t let that happen” but is to say, “Even then, I will be with you.”

It was this friend who recommended I read The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom. (She actually suggested another book, Killing Fields, Living Fields, but I said there was no way my nerves could take it.) She described The Hiding Place as “lovely.” If you want to read about how God is faithful even when the unthinkable happens, then The Hiding Place is a gentle introduction. It’s Entry Level. I have written about it here.

If you haven’t read Christian biographies before, I’d love to recommend it to you. I’m fairly late to the party and have mainly been introduced to missionaries and faithful men and women of the past through children’s books. Here are some reasons why I think it’s worth ‘bothering with missionaries’ (not just missionaries – Corrie Ten Boom for example was just a hider of Jewish people):

We see that the Lord gives strength to his people, even when the worst things happen. This helps us not to fear, and helps us to have a bigger view of our very, very big God.
If we live relatively comfortable lives, our children can see that Christianity is not a safe, sensible, squeaky-clean option. Following Jesus can be dangerous and we need to prepare our children for that. As Jesus said, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” For some children this will actually make them more interested in Jesus. For some it might just prepare them for what’s ahead.
The stories are absolutely gripping and exciting. Kids (and adults) love adventure stories. What could be better than an adventure in which our God is the hero?
They challenge us to live courageously for Christ. If Darlene (see below) can share the gospel with a brutal, violent POW camp commander, then shouldn’t I be brave and ask my kind, sweet colleague what they think of Jesus?
Old books are often better than new books. No offence to present-day authors, but older books that people are still reading have stood the test of time. So if a Christian book is old and still in print, it’s probably worth reading. Just as the old songs that are still played on the radio are better than most of the current songs. It’s why Wizard and Slade are better than Kelly Clarkson. Time burns off the dross and leaves the pure gold for us to enjoy. I think I’ve mixed some metaphors there, sorry.

If you don’t know where to start with introducing missionaries to your homes, then here are some ideas:

Preschoolers: The Good Book Company have just released a series of missionary biographies for very young children. We’ve read the one about Corrie Ten Boom and one about Betsey Stockton. These are a fantastic way to introduce these stories in an age-appropriate way. I was curious as to how Corrie’s story could be told in a way that wouldn’t give a child nightmares, but they managed it. The Betsey Stockton one is also refreshing because she had been an enslaved person. I wouldn’t want my children thinking that only white people can be missionaries! It also shows how God’s grace can enable someone who’s been treated horribly to be full of grace for others. You can get these books, and others, here.

Ages 5-11ish: My son likes reading books with loads of examples of historical figures, such as Everyone a Child Should Know by Clare Heath-Whyte and the Church History ABCs by Stephen J Nichols and Ned Bustard. I personally don’t find these as appealing because I think I’d just forget them all, but children do have incredible memories and they enjoy the little snapshots of men and women of the faith who’ve persevered and often done great things for those who’ve come after them (e.g. us). I’ve written a bit about this before in a post called Naughty. (Every year as a family we look at Church History in the Autumn. I’ve written about this here.)

The Light Keepers series of books each tells ten stories about Christians of the past, aimed at children aged 7-11. We like the Ten Girls/Boys Who Changed the World books. (Warning: the Ten Girls/Boys Who Didn’t Give In were all martyrs. This was too traumatic for our daughter when we tried to read them to her a few years ago!) We find these books are great to read on holiday. There’s something about being away from home and trying something different that helps you to remember. I still remember sitting at the table in Cornwall, silently weeping as my husband read to the children about Corrie and Betsie Ten Boom and their fleas.

Teens/Adults: I don’t have any teenagers so I haven’t delved into any aimed at teens yet I’m afraid. I’m also a complete rookie at reading missionary biographies, despite going on about how good it is to read them. I have, however, just finished reading Evidence Not Seen by Darlene Deibler Rose. It’s absolutely gripping. I’ll follow up shortly with a blog post about this book. If you’re going to start it (the book, not my post!), beware that you will struggle with any interruptions. When you’re on the edge of your seat wondering when the Japanese soldiers are coming back, what’s happened to Russell or whether Darlene will get a banana, you will struggle to be patient with the unassuming child who comes in and asks for a plaster.

One thing I’ve really been hugely encouraged by in the days I’ve spent with Darlene and Corrie, is that our God really and truly does answer prayer. He is a God of miracles. He absolutely can do the impossible. I know this, because he even saved me. But I’m a forgetful creature. And sometimes I’ve prayed about something a lot, and it doesn’t seem like God is answering. If you can relate to this, I’d love to recommend to you that, if you haven’t already, you get a clearer view of our big, big God by reading about God’s faithfulness in extreme circumstances. The God who heard the prayers of Miss Ten Boom and Mrs Deibler is the same God who I pray to now.

The Lord is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?

²When the wicked advance against me
    to devour me,
it is my enemies and my foes
    who will stumble and fall.
³Though an army besiege me,
    my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
    even then I will be confident. Psalm 27:1-3

What should I read next? I’d love to hear your recommendations!

(I do not get paid by anyone for recommending these books. I just wanted to tell you about them.)

Two Sisters

“…and with your blood you purchased for God
persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.”

This is a story about two sisters. One of them is me; the other is Ta.*

We were born twelve days apart in 1982 on opposite sides of the globe: she in Laos; I in Stockton-on-Tees. We each had an older brother, born in ’79.

Other than our genders, birthdays and our family head-counts, we had pretty much nothing in common. We would probably never meet.

My parents were English working-class, which for them meant they were hard-working and didn’t waste anything. Ta’s parents were also working-class, which meant they would buy and sell anything they could get their hands on.

In 1988, aged 5, I moved from an industrial town to a village, 13 miles away. In 1989, Ta’s family fled the civil war in Laos and arrived at a refugee camp in Thailand. I don’t know what that was like. How could I? My greatest concern in 1989 was what colour my new bike would be.

Later that year, when I was going into Top Infants, Ta and her brother and mum moved to England. While Ta was getting used to the cold weather and the sea of white faces with big noses, I was rollerskating round my village without a care in the world.

This is hard to write, but tragedy struck Ta’s family when her dear brother lost his life to Leukaemia. This is a weight of grief and loss that I am yet to experience.

But God was with Ta.

This is where our roles, in some ways, flip. Ta was able to attend a highly prestigious public school** in Oxfordshire. Here she worked extremely hard, became an excellent violinist and got a place at a top university to study medicine.

Meanwhile, I was at my local comp, an average violinist, but also working hard and getting a place at a coveted university – to study English.

Aged 18, I heard about Jesus from my brother. I’d heard of Jesus before, naturally, but I didn’t know the gospel. During ‘upper sixth’ (Year 13), the Lord, against all odds, saved me. Full of mercy, he opened my eyes to the truth that I desperately needed a saviour, the Lord Jesus.

The following year, Ta started university and made friends with some Christians. She also became a very strong rower. Over the course of that year, she too was saved by God’s amazing grace.

Now, although we’d never met, we had become members of one body. We had become sisters in Christ.

It was at our different universities, where I felt very northern and Ta felt very foreign, that we met the Civil Engineers, born in the same hospital in Kent, who were soon to become our husbands. Both men were brought up in sheltered Christian homes, both musically talented, both the kind of men who throw children up in the air just-that-little-bit-too-high but who always catch them. These men had never met each other, but they could easily become friends.

In 2008 when Ta and I met, she was engaged to be married and I’d been married for two years. One of us was a white, northern teacher who was educated in politics by Randy Newman and history by Billy Joel. The other was a middle-class girl who sounds English but looks East Asian and who’s never heard of Genesis (the band, not the book). She was sporty, musical and was about to gain a PhD. We met at a new church plant on a council estate, where neither of us was in our comfort zones but both of us just wanted to help out.

This is where Jesus began to grow us together as dear, dear friends. Slowly but surely, we came to form a friendship which goes beyond birthplace, background or education. Together we grew up, becoming more like Jesus amidst the mess of this fallen world and our own repentance and faith. We’ve shared disappointments, successes and major life events.

In 2012, on the day my brother telephoned to tell me that his brain scan had shown a benign brain tumour, it was Ta that I went to visit. She listened to me, shocked and anxious and incoherent as I was. Ta has shown me, through this and other crises, that sometimes it’s OK not to know what to say. Sometimes it’s not appropriate to try to cheer a person up. She’s taught me how to share in sorrows, as well as joys.

We’ve seen friends come and go, as is the nature of city life.
We’ve seen friends walk away from the faith and others be saved.
We’ve prayed for friends together when neither of us new what to say or do.

Together we’ve been raising seven children to love and follow the Lord Jesus. We’ve struggled through sleepless nights, toddler bibles and discipline. We’ve sat together at baptisms, Colin Buchanan concerts and parenting seminars. We’ve been on holiday together, we’ve been to my parents’ together and lately we’ve just about survived Zoom church together.

Ta has taught me how to listen. She’s tried to teach me how to make sourdough. She’s taught me how to welcome people. She’s taught me how to persevere. She’s been gracious. She’s made me laugh.

And today, as I write this, Ta and her family are moving house. They’re moving to look after her parents, since her culture and her faith have taught her to respect and care for them. Next week her family will say goodbye to our church family.

For over 12 years, we’ve been family. This is longer than I spent in compulsory education. And I could argue that I’ve grown up more in the past 12 years than I did with my beloved school friends.

As we say goodbye, I hope that we’ll always be friends, just as we’ll always be sisters. But I’ll miss seeing her week-in, week-out and being able to pop round for kids’ tea. And our husbands, who did indeed become close friends, will miss each other, too.

Because of Christ and his powerful Spirit, it’s very hard for me to say goodbye to this girl from Laos. It would have seemed impossible to 5 year-old-me, or even 15-year-old me, that a Public School girl from Oxfordshire could mean so much to me. But Jesus does the impossible.

And I will try to trust that Christ, the best of friends, who has brought me safe thus far, still has good things in store for me.

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.
1 Peter 2:9-10.

*Ta is pronounced “Da” and rhymes with car. I’ve seen Ta have to explain this over and over again at parties, poor woman.

**In England, a public school is an old, very prestigious fee-paying school. A ‘comp’ is a comprehensive state school. ‘Comprehensive’ means non-selective – i.e. anyone is welcome!

One Line a Day

I don’t know about you, but this year (during lockdown and then amid all the other bitty restrictions) I’ve found the lack of structure one of the hardest things to cope with. It’s like I’ve got nothing to peg anything onto. I look back over a month and have no idea what I’ve done or how long it’s been since I… anything.

In December the magazines, newspapers and bloggers will be looking back over 2020 and, well, there’ll be quite a lot to say. And in some ways, not much at all. Everything was cancelled but, then again, Historical Things took place. No Events and yet extremely eventful. It’s been a year of emptiness and a year of chaos.

So how can I reflect on all of this and try to process it?

July last year I was recovering from an operation – hence sleeping through church!

This is my diary. Each day I write a few lines about what’s happened that day. The following year I do the same again, which means I can easily see what we were doing this time last year. These diaries are not expensive, but worth their weight in gold.

Here are 3 things I’ve learnt from keeping this diary this year.

The mundane, done for God, is glorious. God’s word is full of people living mundane lives. Shepherds, farmers, builders, mothers. Sometimes something exciting happened to them, but most of the time they were doing ordinary things. I’m prone to forget that God doesn’t need me to do exciting or even interesting things. He wants me to be faithful to him. Writing this diary helps me to process the day and go to sleep. However, much of the time I feel like I have nothing to write. I feel I haven’t really done anything. However, when months later I look back on these days, even I can see that I have been doing stuff! And while not exciting, this stuff is important for keeping certain people alive. I shall try to illustrate:
April 26, 2019: Popped to Catherine’s with travel cot. Bible study on Luke 1. Lunch. Cleaning. Beth and William for tea. Nice to chat to their mum. Deutschland ’86 in the evening.
At the time I probably felt like all I’d done was shoddy housework (which is important!) and crowd control. But looking back I see that I’d helped a friend, been encouraged by my sisters at church, shown hospitality and spent time with my husband. Objectively I know that these things are pleasing to God, when done with a cheerful heart. And anyway, why am I so proud that I think my life should be action-packed? So if it feels like you haven’t really made any progress with anything this year, try not to be discouraged. If you’re serving him, repenting of your sin and still trusting Him this year, that is glorious. In fact, it’s quite miraculous!
For everything there is a season. Once you’re in the second year of writing this, you can look back to what you were doing this time last year. What I often find is that there’s a connection between last year and this year. There’s something reassuring about this! It reminds me that life has a rhythm, which is the way God created this world to function. It also shows me that I shouldn’t be surprised by things as much as I am. I recently felt very run-down and unwell during my half-term break and wondered what on earth was wrong with me. Then I read last year’s half-term entry and, sure enough, I had written ‘felt ill, bed at 7pm.’ So maybe next October I’ll prepare myself by not making any plans and by (less likely) trying to get more rest beforehand! This all reminds me that I’m a human being, dependent on God, and not a machine or a Kryptonian.
God is sovereign. As I look at the lines I’ve written in and the blank sections below, I’m reminded that to God this book is already filled in. He’s completed it. He knows what will happen on every single day of my life and he knows what I will write down about these days. My future may feel uncertain and unclear to me but it is secure in him. He not only knows it but has planned it all for my ultimate good.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16
So as 2020 has not been the year we expected and we don’t know what Christmas will look like, I’m encouraged when I consider that God knew all of this would happen and he can work it all for the good of those who love him.
Yep, I said three but as I was writing this I realised I’d missed perhaps the most important one. There is so much to thank God for. I’m likely to forget all of the wonderful ways the Lord has provided for me and blessed me in abundance. But when I read over this diary I’m reminded to give him thanks, for sustaining me through difficult times and blessing me in a myriad of ways which I really, really don’t deserve.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

I’ll be posting some Christmas present ideas next week – watch this space!

Psst! If you like my blog (which I know at least some of you do), please could you let just one friend know about it today? That way more people can be encouraged, as I don’t advertise this blog in any other way. Thank you so much!

No, Really

One of the most memorable Bible talks I’ve ever heard was actually from the London Men’s Convention. Don’t worry, I didn’t sneak in (she shudders at the thought) – no, much better. My brother had the talks on cassette (ah, the good old days!) and I listened in the comfort of my university digs. The talk was about 2 Peter 3:

³Above all, you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. ⁴They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised? Ever since our ancestors died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation.”

To be a Christian is to be waiting for Jesus to come back in his glory and take us home. Naturally the people around us find this ridiculous and perhaps even dangerously deluded. Everything is carrying on as normal, day in and day out, so how could we possibly believe that Jesus will come, in the twinkling of an eye, and put a stop to it all? To be honest, I’ve had those thoughts myself. It’s been hard to imagine everything suddenly coming to a grinding halt.

⁵But they deliberately forget that long ago by God’s word the heavens came into being and the earth was formed out of water and by water. ⁶By these waters also the world of that time was deluged and destroyed. ⁷By the same word the present heavens and earth are reserved for fire, being kept for the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly.

I wonder if Noah and his family would’ve found it hard to imagine Jesus coming back – if they’d known about it. I’m guessing not! They’d lived through the flood, a time when “people were eating, drinking, marrying and being given in marriage” right up until the day they clambered into the ark and the rain began to fall. As Jesus said, “Just as it was in the days of Noah, so also will it be in the days of the Son of Man.” (Please see Luke 17, 26&27)

The things I’ve seen happen this year have helped me to believe that Jesus really will come like a thief in the night and change everything in a flash. 2019 me would have found it hard to imagine the Olympics being cancelled. 2019 me would have raised a quizzical eyebrow at the suggestion that no aeroplanes would fly over her flat for three months. McDonald’s closed? You must be joking. To quote a character from a WW2 film we watched, and with much gratitude that I’ve learnt this lesson from Covid and not a war, “I’ve seen things I thought could never happen, happen.”

Now that I’ve seen cancellations and closures on an unimaginable scale, I can more easily believe that Jesus really will come back and wrap up this old world.

I share this with you because perhaps it can be an encouragement when you consider all of the things you’ve had to cancel or may still have to cancel. These things do remind us that we can make all the plans we want and we can think we humans really are very clever but it can all be stopped very quickly if the Lord wills it. If a virus can stop us, I’m certain the risen Lord Jesus, seated in glory can stop us too.

And if you’ve had the sort of year that makes you wonder why Jesus doesn’t just come back right now, may these words be a comfort to you:

⁸But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. ⁹The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

Why hasn’t he come back yet? He’s patiently waiting for more people to be saved. Hallelujah, come Lord Jesus. Amen.

For more thoughts about waiting for Jesus’ return, read this retro post.

Weak as I am

Accidental photo on a train. Covid essentials!

How’s it going?

Some of us are starting to think, “What just happened?” (i.e. where did the last 6 months go and why didn’t I learn any new languages? And incidentally why have I suddenly gone grey?)

Some of us are thinking that the worst is yet to come.

Some of us are still wondering how to cope with Today.

I’m sure there’s a whole mix of feelings about “the current situation” even amongst the readers of this here blog.

If we’re thinking of it as a marathon, I think I set off a bit too fast. Not exactly sprinting (I did have (suspected) Covid-19, after all) but also at a pace I couldn’t sustain. Then, at about Mile 20 I was informed that the marathon wouldn’t stop at Mile 26. I still don’t know where the Finish line is. I’m walking now, by the way, and gradually getting my breath back.

I don’t know if you’re feeling disappointed in the way you’ve handled certain things. Or maybe even disappointed in how things are in your country or the world over. I think most of us are feeling pretty weak now.

The other day I was listening to my pastor talk about the fact that humans are weak. They’re made from the dust:

As a father has compassion on his children,
    so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
¹⁴for he knows how we are formed,
    he remembers that we are dust.
¹⁵The life of mortals is like grass,
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
¹⁶the wind blows over it and it is gone,
    and its place remembers it no more.
¹⁷But from everlasting to everlasting
    the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
    and his righteousness with their children’s children—
¹⁸with those who keep his covenant
    and remember to obey his precepts.

Is God surprised at how badly I handled such-and-such a situation?
Nope. He knows I am dust.

Is God frowning down at me in the way a personal trainer or an army General would if I tried to do 10 push-ups?
No, he has compassion on me.

Let’s remember that God is sovereign and he is in control even now. And he’s good.

But why would he bring us to a place of such weakness?

In Scripture we see time and again the Lord bringing people to a place of weakness and dependency on him.

Take Babel, for example. There we see humanity trying to be strong; trying to be independent. What does the sovereign Lord do? He confuses their language so that they’ll fail.

In the desert, when the people of Israel are hungry, does God give them the tools to make their own food and be independent? No, he gives them daily manna so they’ll have to keep trusting him.

When Jonah thinks he can run away from God and be his own man, what does God do? He sends a storm to bring him, eventually, to repentance and dependence: “When my life was ebbing away, I remembered you, Lord.” (He was a bit slow, wasn’t he?)

Jesus’ disciples were accomplished sailors and fishermen. But what did Jesus do? He sent them into storms so that they would need to cry out to him for help (See Matthew 8 and Matthew 14.) Peter was pretty confident in himself, but Jesus taught him to have confidence in Jesus instead:
But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”

The Lord allowed a woman to suffer bleeding for 12 years so that she would reach out to Jesus for healing, cleansing and reconciliation.

The Lord brings his people time and again to places of weakness in order to teach us to depend on Him. This is his kindness to us.

And yet so often, when I’m feeling weak, I feel that the Lord is far from me. I feel he disapproves. ‘He’s as disappointed in me as I am.’ But that’s a lie. Unlike me, He knows I’m weak. Not only that, but Christ sympathises with me:

‘For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses, but one who is every respect has been tempted as we are – yet was without sin.’ Hebrews 4:15

Dane Ortlund puts it this way:

‘Our tendency is to feel intuitively that the more difficult life gets, the more alone we are. As we sink further into pain, we sink further into felt isolation. The Bible corrects us. Our pain never outstrips what [Christ] himself shares in. We are never alone. That sorrow that feels so isolating, so unique, was endured by him in the past and is now shouldered by him in the present.’ (Gentle & Lowly, p.48)

So what should we do? Hebrews 4:16 answers that for us. Jesus is moving towards you even as you’re having to distance yourself from others. You can approach him confidently and know that he’ll help you:

‘Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.’