What can you build from dust and ashes?
From remnants scattered after flames?
Wealth of a life all burnt, destroyed,
Nothing of joy or hope remains. Read more
James’s Blog: Ash Friday.
hope
James’s Blog: The Jeremiah Blues.
So God says “Go!” and you say, “No, I’ve worn
These shoes before. I know the way this ends.
With me abused, misused, confused and bruised,
I wonder why you don’t have any friends?” Read more
James’s Blog: Fearless.
(Our church’s annual Week of Prayer (we do pray at other times too) rolled around again, and once more I was asked to write one of the devotional reflections for the week. I’m posting it as this week’s blog post, just because I can.)
Let’s start these devotions for the Week of Prayer in an unconventional way – with some words from the 14th century Persian poet, Hafiz:
Fear is the cheapest room in the house
I would like to see you living
In better conditions.
I don’t know about you, but I can imagine God saying these exact words to each and every one of us. In fact, He does say these words, or words like them, through Paul in Romans 8:14:
“For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the spirit of sonship.”
Fear is the cheapest room in the house, and God would like to see us living in better conditions.
Fear is a powerful thing. Fear makes us work hard. From a distance, frightened people look motivated, conscientious and diligent. But God would like to see us living in better conditions.
Too many of us let our lives be controlled by fear. Fear of failure, fear of poverty, fear of criticism, fear of embarrassment, fear of conflict. So many different fears. But God would like to see us living in better conditions.
As we head into this week, know that prayer is one of the gifts given by God to help keep fear out of our hearts; to help us take those first steps towards fearless living. It says as much in Philippians 4:6 & 7:
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Perhaps this week will finally be the time for you to make the move into some more suitable accommodation?
James’s Blog: Alone in the Dark?
I’m currently working on a project where one of the main characters has to make her way through an underground cavern where there was no light. She was supposed to feel her way through the darkness, towards the exit. It marks something of a transition for the character, like all clumsy overused metaphors in stories do. But a strange thing happened while I was writing the scene. I threw in a line that just felt right and it totally changed things. You see, it turned out that she wasn’t alone in the cavern. She was supposed to be alone, but the story wasn’t happy with that. It turned out that, in the blackness, she wasn’t alone, and that made things much more interesting. Read more
James’s Blog: It’s True.
Dear Reader,
I’m writing to you because there’s something that I want to tell you. It’s something that I overheard once, and although it wasn’t originally meant for you, I thought I should pass it on, because it is meant for you really.
You are God’s favourite.
Knowing you, there are a few different ways you might react to this news, but all of them are saying the same thing: “I don’t believe it.”
You might find it hard to believe because you don’t think you should be God’s favourite. You’re not good enough. How can you be God’s favourite when you’re such a terrible person? Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I certainly don’t think you’re a terrible person, but you’re probably right that you don’t deserve to be God’s favourite, and yet you are.
You might be wondering, what about everyone else? Well, I’m not writing to everyone else, I’m writing to you, and I am telling you that you are His favourite.
Perhaps you’re rolling your eyes right now, because you think this is typical of the rubbish that I come up with. Maybe it even makes you angry, that I would dare to write such a thing. That doesn’t change anything. You’re still His favourite.
Maybe you’re worried about what might happen if you really believe it. Would you get too big for your boots? Would you start to look down on other people? Now, don’t be silly. Do you think God is happy when we settle for a lie because we’re scared of the consequences of believing the truth? If His biggest concern was us abusing or misunderstanding His words then He’d never say anything. No, the truth is that you’re His favourite, and He wants you to know that.
And surely that’s got to mean something, right? That’s got to change the way that you think about yourself, and the way that you think about God, because it’s true. It really is true. You are God’s favourite.
Yours faithfully,
James
James’s Blog: Father’s Day
And have you ever regretted those words,
spoken in light but planned in darkness?
Did it seem like such a good idea,
in those days before, when the three of you
laughed and danced and joked and sang
with delight, before delight had even been invented?
Did you know, when you said to each other,
“Let us make some people now, some good ones,”
that you were sentencing yourself
to years and years of dirty nappies,
bare feet on carelessly discarded Lego bricks,
and ungrateful teenagers blanking you every day?
Did you know that you would spend
sleepless nights, longing for the days
of innocence, when a grazed knee was
the worst thing in the world,
but so easily fixed with a hug, and rewarded
with the dried tears that made you feel loved?
Did you know that you would bear it all?
Every broken heart?
Every bad decision?
The death of every pure thing?
Every act of cruelty and hate, some so evil
that they leave an irredeemable scar on history?
And does the pride outweigh the shame,
and the hope outweigh the despair,
for the three who trust so much?
Do you say, “That’s my boy!”,
or “I’m so proud of her!” when we take
our first faltering steps onto the shore?
And do you see beyond the reborn darkness,
to the flicker of light in every act of love,
so small, so frail and yet so vital?
And when you reach down and we slap your hand away,
is your forgiveness and patience really endless?
(Because I know mine isn’t.)
And are you looking forward to that time,
when we’ll finally come to our senses,
and you’ll at last be buried under the weight
of all those “Best Dad Ever!” mugs
that we made or bought in secret
with the stuff you gave us in the first place?
And do you have a knowing smile,
or a tear in your eye, as Adams and Eves,
so desperate to become gods,
discover that divinity is hard, ugly work?
Do you ever look at the stars and wonder,
these days, who’d be a father?
James’s Blog: The God of All Comfort.
“We must face the hard truth that no-one loves well who hasn’t suffered.”
Larry Crabb
“Praise be to the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,” writes Paul to the Corinthians, “who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” It’s a bit of a mouthful, and Paul certainly wouldn’t get a good mark in any writing class (far too many ‘comforts’), but hopefully you get his point.
In case you don’t, it’s this: suffering isn’t all about you. One of the tricks that suffering plays on our mind is to make us even more self-focused; we struggle to see beyond our own painful situation. God, however, has His own tricks, and one of them is to turn suffering on its head by making it about how we can help others. Tell me, do you think the Enemy likes it when God disarms his great weapons so completely? Suffering equips you to love in a way that a life free from unpleasantness doesn’t.
“For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives,” Paul continues, “so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” If your goal is a life free from suffering then don’t bother with Jesus – he’ll just get in your way. If, however, your goal is a meaningful life then realise that suffering is not just part of the journey, but a key part of the process, and one you are not alone in. Don’t get distracted. Offer your experiences to those around you who are troubled. In this way suffering can be turned into comfort.
James’s Blog: Five More Random Thoughts on the Subject of Trusting God.
I think that there are at least five different types of God to trust. Which one do you put your hope in?
1) The Enabler of Spoilt Children.
This God owes you. Everyone knows that when this God says things like, “But seek first the kingdom and my righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well,” what he’s really saying is, “What do want for Christmas?”. When life doesn’t go well, it is this God’s fault – after all, didn’t he say he’d look after you? Following this God is like being on a roller coaster, dipping and climbing between feelings of confident entitlement and angry disappointment.
2) The One Who Doesn’t Really Mean It.
This God, like everyone else in your life, will let you down. He makes promises all the time, but doesn’t deliver. The only thing you can be certain of is that he won’t come through for you. He’s like a lifeguard who encourages you to dive headfirst into the pool, with no intention of jumping in after you when you get out of your depth. Trusting this God turns you into a nervous swimmer, stuck on the side of the pool, unable to put even a toe into the water.
3) The Master of the Monkey’s Paw.
This God keeps his promises, but in an unexpected and unpleasant way, like one of those horror story genies who gives you exactly what you asked for. He is a trickster who needs to be outsmarted rather than trusted. You’ve accepted that your best bet for happiness is to try and manipulate the small print in order to get a positive outcome. Believing in this God leads to a crushed, submissive spirit that is constantly expecting to be punished ‘…for your own good.’
4) The Divine Bureaucrat.
This God also keeps his promises, but only to the letter of the law. You will get what you’re entitled to – nothing more, nothing less. He is always busy figuring out how little he can give away without being sued for breach of contract. Under this God, the Bible becomes a watertight legal contract. Trusting this God leads to low expectations, and a feeling that he needs to be backed into a corner before he’ll reluctantly dish out bread and water and expect you to be grateful for it.
5) The Real Deal.
This God can’t be contained by small words like ‘gracious’ and ‘generous’. To this God, the promises that are written in the Bible reveal his heart without defining the limit of it. He believes that it is possible to be kind without needing to announce it first, and that children can have birthday presents even though nothing has been submitted in writing beforehand. Following this God will get you into trouble, but the good kind of trouble, and eventually you’ll be able to face whatever life throws at you with a quiet confidence and hope.
James’s Blog: The Stone & The Seed.
(I had an idea, which became this little poem. If I was an illustrator of any talent I would probably turn it into a children’s picture book.)
The paving stone,
set hard and set proud,
said, “I can’t be moved
from my home in the ground.”
“Beneath me the earth,
I crush all the life,
no root can take hold
with no hope and no light.”
But a small, humble seed
a challenge did make:
“Heavy you may be,
but you’ve made a mistake.”
The stone laughed out loud
at the tiny thing’s cheek,
“You can’t lift me up!
You’re too small and too weak!”
“It may take some time,”
the seed did reply,
“but I’m not stuck here,
for my goal is the sky!”
The years went on by
while the seed sought a gap,
the stone did not know
of the tiny thing’s trap.
And go visit now,
this is what you will see,
a humbled, broke stone
that’s been split by a tree.
James’s Blog: Anyone for Seconds?
Daisy wiped the tear from her cheek with a perfect white handkerchief.
“I know you all understand my struggle. It’s just so…so hard,” she said. “Oh, that sounds silly. To say it’s ‘hard’. I just don’t know any other word.”
“It’s a perfectly good word,” said Thomas, reaching out and patting her on the shoulder.
“And it’s perfectly accurate,” said Maureen, her lips stretched in a thin line. Daisy nodded glumly.
Maureen continued. “That’s why we’re here. To support and help one another. We all understand. We ‘re all in the same boat here at the Over Eighteens.”
The Over Eighteens had been meeting weekly at Thomas’s house for the past year. There were seven of them. Daisy, Maureen and, of course, Thomas were the founding members. Billy (no-one called him William) and his wife Trish joined soon after, shortly followed by George. Jayne (yes, that was how she spelled it) was new to the group. This was her first meeting.
Every Thursday morning they gathered around the coffee table in Thomas’s lounge, squeezed on sofas (and chairs brought in from the dining room) and encouraged one another. That was the purpose of the group, to share and encourage, and to share and encourage in one particular struggle. The name Over Eighteens referred not to age, but to weight. The only thing in the group that could be called thin was Maureen’s lips. Everyone bore the same burden, of struggling with their size.
Thomas glanced at his watch.
“I think that’s enough for today.” He looked over at Jayne. “It’s been excellent to have you here this morning, Jayne. We always finish with a…well, I guess you could call it a creed of sorts. We say it together, you know, to make us all feel like we’re united in this.”
Jayne nodded nervously.
“Just listen, and you’ll pick it up soon enough,” Thomas said, nodding at the rest of the group.
“We agree that we’re overweight,” the group said, in unison. “But we don’t want to be. We’d like to be thin. In the meantime, we will support each other, listen to each other’s struggles without judgement, encourage each other and look forward to the day when we are all our perfect weight.”
Silence settled on the thoughtful group.
“Now,” said Thomas, clapping his hands together, “who wants a cup of tea?”
There was a chorus of responses as Thomas stood up and moved through to the kitchen.
“You should come over for dinner sometime, love,” said Trish, smiling at Jayne.
“That would be nice, “ said Jayne, smiling back.
“Cor, yes, I love it when we have guests,” said Billy. “Trish always goes to town with the deserts!”
“I’m surprised you have any room left for desert,” interjected George. “After all, I saw how much you put away at the All You Can Eat Pizza Buffet yesterday!”
“You can talk!” said Billy, laughing.
Thomas returned from kitchen.
“Kettle’s on,” he said, placing a huge, heavy plate on the coffee table. On the plate was the biggest chocolate cake that Jayne had ever seen. “Who wants a slice?”
Hands shot up around the room. Jayne kept her hand down.
“Ummmmm,” she said, as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin.
“Go on,” said Maureen, smiling with those thin lips. “Have some. Thomas is a fantastic baker.”
“I’m sure he is, but…” Jayne stopped.
“But what?” said Daisy.
“Well, shouldn’t we…well, I’m trying to diet.” Jayne bowed her head, as though she’d confessed to some awful crime.
“Oh, of course you are,” said George. “We’re all trying to diet, aren’t we?”
Ernest nods and grunts of agreement.
“The thing is,” said Daisy. Jayne looked up to see her wiping a thick smear of chocolate icing from her cheek with that no-longer perfect white handkerchief. “The thing is, that it’s difficult, isn’t it?”
More nods and grunts.
“After all, that’s why we’re here. Because it’s hard, as Daisy said earlier,” said Thomas.
“We’re all in favour of diets. That’s what we’re all after – the ultimate goal is losing weight – but it’s not quite that simple, is it?” said Daisy.
“I don’t know what I’d do without this group,” said Trish, through a mouthful of smushed chocolate cake, “to lift my spirits and help me feel better about things.”
“That’s right,” said Thomas, nodding. “That’s absolutely right.”
Jayne looked around at the group, as they grinned at her, encouragingly. She knew that she would feel more encouraged if they didn’t all have chocolate-stained teeth. She made a decision.
“It’s been lovely to meet you all,” Jayne said, standing up. “But I have to go now. The truth is, I think I’m in the wrong group.”
The gathering sat in silence as she left the room. After a short moment they heard the front door slam.
“That’s a shame,” said Thomas. “Now, who’s for seconds?”
