Be careful what you wish for...

If you could be transported back in time to be with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, knowing what He was about to go through, and you could pray with Him, what do you think you might pray?

Would you pray for His release, for His escape, for His safety or for His life to be spared? 

During our Good Friday service, two very different prayers got me thinking.

In praying for our world, we also prayed for a cessation of the violent acts, for God to intervene and prevent those thinking of further terrorism from implementing what was planned. 

As we reflected on Jesus' last hours, and His prayer in the Garden, I thought about the fact that we so often pray for what we would like to see, rather than God's purpose and will coming to fruition. If the disciples had had any real inkling of what Jesus was about to undergo, I wonder whether they would have been praying that God would prevent it, that God would change the outcome. What would have happened if they had? Would Jesus have died? Would the Christian faith as we know it exist today?

When Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He included the words

"Your will be done".

It is so difficult for us to see what this might look like, because we would like it to look like a 'good' outcome for us here, right now. We would like to see our will be done. And this generally means, my comfort, the comfort of my loved ones, a lack of difficulty for any of us immediately. Our prayers often boil down to "Please God, make everything nice again, for me and mine, and please do it now!" 

The problem is, if God answers those prayers, are we actually missing out on greater blessings? Are we actually missing out on what God wanted to show us, to teach us, to grow in us by taking the 'easy way'? 

Most of us know about the dangerous prayer of asking for patience: you generally get even more opportunities to practice! How many more circumstances and situations does God place before us to move us into better, more helpful, more Christlike behaviours and opportunities to demonstrate His love? And how often do we ask to be excused from those opportunities?

The problem is, we rarely know, much less understand the long term ramifications of so much we long for. Even though we might ask to be relieved from having  to go through difficulties, how do we know that our present trials are not preparing us to cope with other future challenges, not to mention the impact our experience has on other circumstances around us? The threads are all interwoven, and each impacts the other.

Personally, I have been learning a deeper way to pray for sometime now. Much of it involves the difficult task of listening, the difficult task of laying down my will, my desire, my wants, my comfort, and waiting on God to hear what He wants to do in me and through me. It is not easy. It takes time, and it takes honesty and transparency with God.

Often I find it is more helpful to be honest about my feelings and what I want before I start to seek His way. I have to get that out of the way, otherwise self keeps popping its head up again, distracting me, causing me to respond out of my emotions again. When I pull out my stuff, my emotional response first and look at it with God, through His eyes, it becomes easier to lay it down and release it to Him. Then I am (more) ready to go His way, to see His way.

Jesus' prayer in the Garden was like this: "God, I really don't want to go through this, I am really struggling", and maybe even "I'm so scared", but never-the-less, "not My will, but Your's be done".

Underlying all our struggles with prayer is a question of trust. Do we pray because we think God needs some help working out the best way forward for us and His world, or do we pray because we want to partner with Him in what He is already doing really well without our help?

On the road again...(or Lessons from the road Part 2)

"Whatever you do, don't run into the screen door!"

These were my father's famous last words as he released me to ride alone. He was teaching me to ride a bike in our yard, and as I wobbled and peddled and hoped I wouldn't fall off, I rode straight into the screen door of the french window. 

This story has had a great workout in my family over the years, usually at my expense. I was about six or seven and my dad was helping me get my balance riding around in our garden. Knowing what I know now, there are a few things I would probably have done differently if I were my dad, one of them being the words he used. 

Through driving lessons and more recently, motorbike riding lessons,  I have repeatedly been told that we tend to go in the direction we look. That's how you get out of a skid - look where you want to go, and your brain will respond accordingly. So if someone mentions something like a screen door, you are likely to look at it, and hence, head straight for it!

However, when it comes to riding on a motorbike, I am struggling to put this into practice. Even though I have been riding pillion on the motorbike for some years now, cornering is still something of an issue. (Confession: I get scared.) As we lean into the corner, I often do battle with the fear that the bike is either going to tip or slide out, especially if there is any gravel about or it is a particularly tight curve. It is not a healthy or helpful way to ride!

In dealing with this problem as a rider now, I have been given similar tips by numerous people - obviously I am not alone in my fear! One of the main pointers is to look ahead to where you want to go. Don't look at the curve or look directly at the road you are on, but look up, look ahead. The other is to breathe out as you go around the corner, which perhaps helps you to relax.

Aside from the more irrational fears, there are many other aspects of the road that are far more dangerous for riders than those inside vehicles. Simple oily patches, gravel or potholes on the road can mean serious injury or even potential death if not dealt with appropriately. Riding in fear of all these, though, can be just as dangerous. 

Contrary to what seems natural, however, looking up, looking ahead at the direction we are going, we will find that we naturally avoid most hazards. Our brain is quite good at directing us if we don't over-think it. I am reminded of a time I was walking on a beach  covered in pebbles. I suddenly realised that without even thinking about it, or watching where I was walking (barefooted), I was choosing a path on the sand automatically avoiding stepping on the pebbles. Our brains are quite amazing at keeping us out of danger if we allow them to do their thing!

These principles can be applied far more widely than simply riding a bike, though. We can easily spend many aspects of our lives in fear. If we choose to focus on all the bad things that could happen, there is a never ending list. Just like when riding, if we focus on that pothole, that gravel on the side of the road, that screen door, we will, in all likelihood, end up in it.

We will head where we focus our attention.

 Just as true is the fact that what we think about, what we dwell on, will become the way we think. A favourite quote from a friend, is "don't think about pink elephants". What's the first thing that comes to mind?

We have to purposefully change our thinking. Paul puts it brilliantly in Philippians 4:5-8 "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation...present your requests to God. And the peace of God,which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things...And the God of peace will be with you."

If we want to change our thinking, we have to practice thinking differently!

 And of course, we can tie ourselves in knots trying to change, as well, beating ourselves up with thoughts like "I have to stop thinking like this", which leads to the other helpful tip.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

Just breathe and relax. After all, most things are not as bad as we tend to think, and even if they are, all our stress and worry is not going to improve anything.

If we are walking in faith, we can stop everything and focus on simply breathing, on purely be-ing. Relaxing is the place of rest that is promised by God so regularly. When we live from this place of resting in Him, which is really about trusting Him, He becomes our focal point. Then we will find ourselves naturally changing direction, automatically avoiding those obstacles which endeavour to trip or waylay us. Over time, chances are we won't even notice them anymore!

On the road...(Or Lessons from the road - Part 1)

I went on a trip back in time a few weeks ago.

Heading off to pick up the motorbike my husband had bought me was like going down memory lane as we travelled some 350km out west, to the other side of the rural city I spent most of my childhood in.  I have rarely been there in the ensuing thirty-something years since we moved away, but on the occasions I have, the memories come flooding back at every landmark, town and hamlet.

We decided to make a bit of a road trip out of the journey, leaving early so we could take it easy. It was nice not to have to rush, not to have to be anywhere by a certain time. Our day was largely unplanned, stopping morning tea when we felt like it in a lovely old rural town, complete with the Saturday market. By lunchtime we had made it to my home town. As we sat outside the main street bakery in the summer sun, eating our pies, I felt waves of nostalgia for days gone by.

Reflecting on my feelings, I realised that we had left there at a point where I was gaining greater independence and freedom, which I didn't have to the same level in the place we moved. There was a part of me that still felt I had missed something because of the move. However, there was also the problem that although many things were just the same as I remembered, so much was different.

My heart was yearning to go back to that simpler place in that simpler time, but it is no longer there and neither am I.

The desire to go back in time has been a temptation for me at a number of significant points in my life, particularly in the pain of divorce. Thinking about what life might have been like if things had been different, if I had made a different decision, if I had been more emotionally healthy, the "if only..." scenarios can seem like an escape from dealing with the difficulties of the current situation. I have realised, though, that these thoughts don't actually help at all. They keep me stuck and can simply lead to bitterness and disappointment colouring all that comes after.

I can't live there.

The past is gone and it is unalterable, just as the person I was back then no longer exists. And besides, I still have more past to create, I still have a road to travel. If I try to do that looking backwards, I will either come to a grinding halt or I will crash. Consider Lot's wife. Looking back inappropriately brought her to a permanent standstill!

However,  looking back at the past with nostalgia is not our only problem.

Looking back on the journey of our lives in any capacity can be a dangerous occupation.

Reflecting on the past with the rose-coloured glasses of time can be wishing for something that really never existed. We forget the less than perfect bits. When we reflect and feel, "I wish it was like the 'old days", or "life was better back then", we can also diminish our enjoyment of the present.

On the other hand, we can dismiss the past in its entirety, deciding that because there were bad bits, none of it has any value. Doing this, we lose a significant part of who we are and can become a little rootless. It makes it easier to disconnect from any part of life we find unpleasant, leaving a shallowness in our relationships.

Recollections are important at some level, though. God was pretty adamant about it with the Israelites, urging them to remember all the lessons, good and bad, from their past with Him. It helped them remember who He was (and is) for them through tough times, and was to keep them from straying back into past errors. 

Celebrating and being grateful for the good times, for the positive experiences and input, and learning from mistakes - our own as well as those of others - is an important part of the fullness of life. It can keep us grounded.

Embrace the past. Make peace, however you can, whatever it takes, with those aspects you'd rather forget. They are part of what makes you who you are - make them count for something good! Give thanks for every opportunity for growing and learning, whatever form they came in. I promise you, it will change your perspective on the worst experiences. Share the joy and sadness with others.

But remember to come back to living the present you have been given, looking forward to future joys and challenges, so when they are done with they too can become part of the ever-changing scenery of a life well traveled.

Just a Flat Tyre?

When I got my driver's licence and bought my first car, my father was adamant that I needed to be able to change a tyre. His only daughter wasn't going to be 'one of those' helpless females! Besides, we lived in a rural area, and being before the advent of the mobile phone, he didn't want me stranded for lack of knowledge. Lack of strength was a whole other kettle of fish, but I could usually get those pesky wheel nuts undone by standing/bouncing on the wheel brace. These days I drive a 4x4, so I don't even think about changing the tyre - I can't even lift the spare out!

 All that said, in nearly thirty years of driving, it has been a reasonably rare occurrence.

Until recently.

 In the last three months, I have had three punctures. Apart from the exceptional frequency, it was unusual because I had never heard of, let alone experienced the cause of these flats before. Two of them were caused by sticks! I was really surprised the first time, almost to the point of disbelief, although our local tyre repair assured me it was quite common (which it proved to be for us!). The other was caused by a quite small, seemingly normal piece of stone with a particularly pointy end. Not your usual suspects given their prevalence.

Driving home from the repair shop after the third one, I was wondering about this sudden pattern, and was reminded of one of my husband’s favourite sayings:

“It’s just a flat tyre.”

It’s his way of putting things into perspective. As much as a flat tyre is an irritation, annoyance or inconvenience, it is rarely a major problem, unless you haven’t bothered to make sure the last one is fixed and you’re already running on your spare!

However, even as I remembered this, the words, “yes, but three in three months is a little bit much!” came into my mind. As I thought of the other things going on in our life at the moment, many of which we try to keep in the perspective of simply being a “speed bump” or “flat tyre”, the frequency and continuing nature of these is starting to get wearing. Just when we have felt we are coming out of one incident, another comes out of the blue to take its place.

It is tiring (no pun intended!), to say the least. And with that tiredness, hopelessness and despair also come creeping.

It leads me to the question of what my faith looks like when the waiting for promises to be fulfilled seems to take too long, when the circumstances continue to look like no, or even “wrong way, go back”. How do I hold on to my faith, how do I keep hoping, flat tyre after flat tyre after flat tyre?

But by very definition, isn’t that what faith and hope are all about? As Paul says, “But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?” (Rom 8:24) Underlying this question of faith, perhaps the real question is whether God is faithful. Can I really place my hope and trust in Him?

Naturally, we all know the ‘correct’ answer.

Of course God is faithful and trustworthy!

But that is before we were waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And the problem with waiting is that we usually don’t really know how long is enough. Like the proverbial piece of string – how long is it? Until we get to the end, we won’t know. Like my call to the insurance company today, forty-five minutes waiting in the queue, then another thirty on hold. You start out hoping it will be shorter than they say, and you keep waiting because hopefully it will be in the next minute, or the next, or the next. And if I get off now, I will have to start all over again. So you wait, hoping the phone won’t go flat, too.

We are right in our first answer to the question, though. God is faithful. He has proven Himself time and again, in history, in the lives of our friends and families, in our own lives. But this is new. This we don’t know. This time (again), we are not sure if we can wait that long, that our battery won’t go flat in the waiting, or that we actually have a spare tyre.

Which reminds me of the story Jesus told about the bridesmaids, where half of them had extra oil in case they had to wait longer than expected. The other half ran out, and while they were off getting some more, they missed the bridegroom’s arrival.

There have been various interpretations of what the oil represents, from the Holy Spirit to simply about always being ready. For me, the idea of the “oil of joy for mourning” springs to mind, which could be linked to the joy of the Spirit as well.

Joy seems to be a good antidote in the place of waiting. It is the antithesis to hopelessness and despair. While it is not something we can always elicit in ourselves, especially in those places we are struggling, it is one of the fruits of living in the Spirit. However, joy cannot coexist with hopelessness and despair. We have to make a choice which of these we would like to carry in our places of waiting, in our places of flat tyres.

As for me, I choose to lay down (evict, reject, cast off) hopelessness and despair, and to pick up joy!

Come Holy Spirit, fill me afresh!

New Year's "Realsolutions"?

Did you make New Year’s resolutions this year?

If so, how are they doing?

Personally, I gave up New Year’s resolutions years ago. I have never had much success and really do believe that if I want to make a change, one day is as good as another. Besides, New Year’s resolutions are notorious for being broken anyway, mostly within days of the first of January.

The question is, though, why do we fail so dismally in our resolve to change?

Is it because most New Year’s resolutions are made under the influence of a little too much New Year’s Eve spirit? Or is it because we are only half-hearted? Even when we are determined that “this year is going to be different”, our best intentions seemed to be so easily sabotaged.

Perhaps our problem is not so much the things we want to change.

Perhaps it is more about what we don’t want to change.

Take weight loss for example. I do want to lose a couple of kilograms, but I don’t want to cut out chocolate and I don’t really want to exercise. There is a part of me that believes that I can induce the result I want without changing anything else too much.

Jesus told a story about mending old clothes. He said that you wouldn’t tear a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. It makes sense. However, I think this is often what we do when we want to change. We look at what we want to be different and try to stick the new bit on top of all the old, hoping it will patch up our 'deficiencies'.

It is the same with most changes we would like to make. It might be in our relationships; it might be in our workplace, or our church. We want a different outcome, but we don’t want to change the way we do things. We are generally comfortable with where they are at.

Our spiritual wellbeing is just another area we tend to treat the same way. I have had so many conversations about the desire to be closer to God, and yet, time with God seems to be the first thing to get squeezed out of our busy schedules. We want things to be different, but are we prepared to let go of something else to make the change?

Much of it comes back to reassessing our priorities. What we think are our priorities (those things we give 'intellectual assent' to – “yes, this is highly important to me”) don’t always end up taking priority. We allow other things to push in; to take precedence.

A major source of confusion for most of us centres around determining what is urgent and what is important. Many of the things that are in our face and urgent, pushing us to do them NOW, are often (mostly?) actually not important at all. How many times do we stop in the middle of something we are doing to answer the telephone? The ringing gives us the sense of urgency, but how many times is it not even about anything of interest, let alone importance? There are so many things in our lives that are really not that important, but we let them take precedence because of the irritation factor of the “squeaky wheel”.

If we are serious about discerning what is really important to us, we have to be really real about what we spend our time doing. Taking the challenge of writing down (literally) everything we do in a week, and how much time we spend doing it may be very confronting. We may not like to acknowledge how much time we spend doing stuff that we say isn’t a priority or important to us. Of course, asking why we do it may also reveal some other “stuff” we don’t want to admit to, but it might also free up time to do those things we really want to.

And maybe that’s as good a starting place as any for a New Year.

“No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins.’” (Jesus, from Luke 5:36-9)

Forget About the Burning Bush - How About a Lime Tree?

If I told you that God spoke to me through my lime tree, you would probably think I am a little crazy. But He did...and maybe I am!

Late last Autumn, we transplanted our citrus trees. They had been in a garden bed, but were really too big for it. A short time later, though, we had some unseasonably warm, dry weather with a strong north wind (hot here in the southern hemisphere). The poor lime tree took a battering, almost blown out of the ground. The leaves took on a permanent curl southward and over the months of winter, cold and damp as they were, the leaves began to drop off. 

Now, call me strange and weird ('cos, I reckon it is,too!), but I prayed for my lime. I didn't want to lose it. 

Besides, it had worked before. Previously, my kaffir lime had been in a pot. One summer when we'd been away for a couple of weeks, the one at home to take care of things failed to water it.

When I got home, it had all the appearances of being dead. Dry, brown leaves were curled on the stems or lay on the ground around. I prayed for that tree as well: I watered it, spoke life into it and waited, and did it all again, with a lot of the waiting...And...it came good!  (You might think that it was the watering that helped, and you might be right, but I also believe that God is the Life Force, so I give Him credit anyway.)

So, with that success in mind, I prayed for my Tahitian lime. And watered it. And spoke life into it. And waited. And waited the whole of winter, and then through spring. And it got worse. The leaves started to drop off. There were one or two leaves still green and looking ok, which gave me hope, but not much else...

...Until one day in spring, when nearly all the leaves had fallen off, I went to examine my tree again and I saw some bumps that looked like they could be new growth. But still I wasn't sure. So I waited some more. Then there were some pretty definite looking buds. Over some more time, they became definite beginnings of flowers. Still I wasn't sure, because some things flower just before they die - well I think I read that somewhere anyway.

However, over time, more bumps appeared and this time they turned into teensy tiny leaves, first in the places that had kept one or two leaves, and then gradually all over. Now it is starting to look really promising. It is literally covered with new leaves and many flowers popping out. If it continues this way, we should have a bumper crop of limes this year.

So what does this have to do with God speaking to me from my lime tree?

Well, this morning as I was enjoying the sunshine, I looked at the lime again, feeling the hope of all that burgeoning new life rub off onto the rest of my life. As I did, I felt God talking to me. Not in an audible voice, no. But straight into my heart. In that way that something shifts, something tangible seems to happen.

I felt Him encouraging me that sometimes when we pray, things don't immediately get better. Sometimes when we pray, we feel like things are only getting worse.

The situation looks as dead as my lime did.

This has definitely been my experience over a number of issues this year.

However, I felt that the lime tree was a promise to me, like a precursor. I felt God was saying that even in those places that look dead, or look like they just won’t improve (or may be can't get worse!), He is going to bring new life; that just when we think it is over, time to give up, He is going to suddenly show up and bring life where only death seemed to abound.

Like with Lazarus when all hope was gone: “he's been in the grave four days”; “he'll stink”! “Yep, but this is to show the glory of God”, says Jesus.

The words "unless a seed falls into the ground…" keep resonating in my mind. And how does that end? Well, the seed dies, but something new arises with maybe tenfold, maybe one hundredfold fruit returned.

Anyone for limes?

(And thanks to my lovely daughter for the great photo she took for me!)

"I'm all out of love"

There are times in some relationships and circumstances we can feel so drained it seems we have no more love to give.

I have experienced this a number of times. More recently, though, instead of wanting to give up, I have reflected on my own need of an upgrade in my relationship with God.

Returning to the metaphor of the River of Life, I am reminded that water is freshest if it is flowing. What we receive from God is not meant to be bottled up inside us, but passed on as a blessing to others. If we try to hold it to ourselves, if we dam up the flow, we cease to experience its freshness. It becomes stagnant and stale.

The best way for us to continue to have a fresh touch from God is to continue to pass the blessings on to others. However, we also must remain connected to the Source. This leads to a question:

If we remain connected in our relationship with God, the Source of all love, can we really get to a place where we have run dry?

Further insight into the importance of love came as I helped my mother clean out her old house this past week.  As a rental, there were quite strict instructions on how the property was to be left to retrieve the bond. One of the instructions she particularly struggled with was that each blade of the Venetian blinds was to be cleaned individually. She felt it was overkill. To be blatantly honest though, it was necessary. The even bigger challenge in this was that there were eight floor to ceiling windows of micro-Venetians. Somehow, this job ended up with my name on it!

About two and a half windows in, I was really battling with the task. The weather was not helping at some thirty degrees (C) outside. There was a point where I could feel myself ready to snap, not just figuratively, but the actual blinds! I contemplated going and buying some new ones for a micro-second. And then I mentally "girded up my loins" and decided that I was not going to be beaten by some blinds; I was not going to give in to my weakness. I could finish the job! It was just a matter of discipline and pacing myself. 

Deciding to connect with God in this space, I asked Him how I could use the time positively. I then saw that in performing this task I had the opportunity to bless the new occupants of the house, both in a physical sense as well as spiritually. The energy I was exerting could invest a blessing toward them. 

I also realised that this task was also about character. I saw that my own character had developed. In the past I would have given up, or at least have complained and gotten angry or annoyed with either my mother or the property manager. 

And somewhere in the middle of all this, the connection with the giving of love appeared. The dots joined and I saw a bigger picture:

Love must be the foundation of all we do. 

Not that this is a new thought, but because we can often get into a functional mode with the things we do. We do them because we must; because it is our role; because we are paid to; because we want to use our gifts. In the middle of all this, a rewrite of 1 Corinthians 13 came to mind: "If I [write with eloquence and words of great persuasion], but [write] without love, I am but a clanging gong". You can put your own slant on it.

The important point is that when our actions are founded on love, when we connect with God's heart of love for others in our relationships with them, then we also connect with His power. We land at "Love never fails". Unpacking what that looks like we could say that love never fails meet its objective: to touch; to heal; to empower; to turn up...if we are willing to allow it.   

Some relationships are really tough, though. Some people seem they will never change - they cannot see the need, or just seem to lack the will or capacity. Others don't seem to appreciate what is being given and the personal cost. In these scenarios, it can be very tempting to say, "Enough! I have given enough of my time and energy here, and I have nothing left to give!"

While I will not deny that it is important to set boundaries and give ourselves space in these scenarios, we also need to recognise that

the Source of our love has endless supply.

There is never a drought; provision is never limited. If we find ourselves running out, it is most likely because we have not taken time to be replenished.

There are two aspects to note here . One is about self-care, something those in roles caring for others, or having strong empathy often struggle with. Other people's needs always seem more important. The second is related. 

If we have not learnt to set those boundaries, to put structures around us to ensure our own needs for rest and replenishment are met, we will burn out, we will run out of love, and it is only a very short time before running on empty means we shut down.

When we feel we are all out of love, there are two check points. The first is to make sure of our motivations: do I do this because it fulfils a need in me, or do I genuinely care for the other person? The second check is to ensure our own connection with the Source is secure and flowing well.