ANYONE FOR CAMPING

CHURCH AWAY WEEKEND, February  2015

What is it that makes us do it? To leave our comfy beds and home comforts; loading the car with sleeping bags, boots, and clothing for all weathers, while our wonderful leaders had been shopping and planning, working out rotas, for the feeding of the five (well, fifty something, if not the five) thousand.

Yes, once again, ‘Grace Community Church Porthcawl’ set out for our annual ‘Away Weekend.’ Using the same venue as last year, Barton Camp in North Somerset, we were better prepared to transform it from a rather Spartan facility to something nearer to home comfort. We had a row of comfy garden chairs at the back of the meeting room for a lounge area, while Ross’s curry this year, instead of ‘dragon’s breath’ was just right, and each team produced excellent meals.

Those of us who did not have to wait for school to close were fortunate enough to have been able to leave early and so avoid the heavy motor way traffic, but we all arrived safely, all the hassle of packing and travelling forgotten in the joy of being together.

You see, we are a family. We see each other most Sundays, but sometimes not in between, and families need to have special times of being together. It was such a joy to see so many young families playing happily together, and an even greater joy that some of our now college students had joined us and had prepared lessons and activities for our children so that the parents would relax, knowing they were well cared for.  

After the journey and unpacking, Friday evening was not the time for teaching ministry. We gathered for worship and then Tom read of Moses’ desire and delight in God’s presence, giving us the theme for the weekend.

After breakfast and a prayer time, for those without commitments, Saturday morning was a very special time  of worship and teaching. After Tom had spoken, first of Moses, and then  of our need to seek God’s glory and know him coming in power among us, as he has done in our nation in years gone by, we were released in worship.

Since my husband died I have had very little voice and usually sing ‘in my boots,’ but I found my voice soaring as I joined in a wonderful choir of praise. We were on the Mount of God, as Moses had been and God was among us, touching afresh, and speaking to us through his gifts. Oh, what a comfort to know that we don’t need a veil (tea-cloth someone said) as Moses did, because the glory must fade.

Some of us set out to explore the lovely country side in the afternoon, returning with an appetite for Ross’s homemade scones for a Somerset cream tea, while other relaxed or played games. There was no ‘Grace has Talent’, since most of our talent, sadly, had been unable to make it this year, but a wonderfully competitive and varied games evening, great fun for young and old alike, ensured most of us had a much better night’s sleep.

Sunday. Again, great praise and fervent prayers in our prayer meeting, and then sadly packing up before we gathered for our last time of ministry. Perhaps I was looking forward to a time of praise and release such as we had had the day before, but God always has fresh bread, and always something more. His challenge that we should be the people of God, his light in a world of darkness led us in humility to his table where we broke the bread and drank the wine together, as a family.

Then we listened to a testimony. It was a story of terrible suffering and there were not many dry eyes, but we were also awed at the wonderful deliverance God had brought about, through the invitation of a young mother to come to an Alpha evening. Though she only went three times, this one who had seemed to be so hopelessly ensnared had met with Jesus. He heard her cry and eventually brought her out of this horrible pit. Her feet set on the Rock, she was now able to bring her children up to love and serve the Lord.

Sunday morning; was this the right time to listen to such a harrowing story? The Communion should be a reminder of an even more harrowing story of how God gave his Son to save us. And yes, this story too brought great glory to God, for through hearing it we realised that here is someone who is now a servant of the church, always available to work, and to reach out to others who may be entrapped by the enemy. How we praise God for counting this ‘Trophy of Grace’ as our sister and friend, she and her family wonderful members of the family of Grace.

 

A final meal, scrumptious as always, the big Grace photo, and off to our own homes, and yes, our comfy beds.

As with every family gathering, there is great joy in being together – some of us, especially the younger element, wished we could have stayed there – but with the joy is an inevitable sadness when the circle is not complete, for whatever reason. We are so very thankful for this special family time together, but pray that maybe next year we may have less of us left at home, and more with us for this mountain top experience.

Giants in the Land

Selwyn Hughes had a series about bringing down giants. That got me thinking about Jack the Giant Killer. What do you know of him? There is one Jack, of pantomime fame, but I think it was a beanstalk he had to tackle, which, when he had chopped it down, caused the ogre to fall to his death. But Jack the Giant Killer was, I believe, a brave Cornish lad who refused to be intimidated by these great bullies who were robbing the people of their crops and making their lives a misery. Armed only with his club he took them on, one by one, until the people had courage to go on with their daily lives.

The Israelites had to go in and claim the Promised land, even though there were giants there, and if we are standing in the name of Jesus, then we too have battles to fight, and we have armour too that we must never take off. So, what are the giants that come against us?

We may know about Goliath, a huge monster of a man, out to intimidate so that the Israelites did not dare even face him. But we know about David too, who did not need any man-made armour but went against him with just his sling and stones, and his confidence in the Lord his God. Goliath fell to the ground and David cut off his head with the giant’s own sword. But did you know that wasn’t the end of the fight?

 

Later on in his life we hear of other battles against giants. Maybe they were baby giants when David fought his first battle, but babies grow up. And because we have had past victories over some of our ‘giants’ does not mean we can let down our guard.

So what are our giants? Somebody was sharing his need to guard against ‘pride.’

Well, that is something I don’t have to fight, was my first reaction. What was that if not pride? As one preacher, hopefully tongue in cheek, remarked, ‘You should have heard my sermon on humility.’

But – are we Giant Killers? I doubt it. I know that though I may have had victories in the past, I always have to be on my guard. As a young woman I  struggled with jealousy and a sense of inferiority. I was sorry for myself because, there I was in the middle of the family, not pretty or clever like my older sister, not the baby, who everyone knows is special, and not the eldest and a boy at that.

Wonderfully, Jesus came to my rescue. He showed me that all this jealousy and sense of inferiority was because self was on the throne instead of Him; that God had raised him up, a Prince and Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins.* All I had to do when these negative thoughts arose was to cry out to Jesus to save me. I still sing that wonderful hymn, ‘Jesus saves me now,’ when the giant of jealousy or depression rears its ugly head.

Once I had cried to God for deliverance, it was as though he took away every cause I could have for jealousy or self pity. But those giants are not dead. I still have to be on my guard. When bereavement strikes, in whatever form, I believe we have to purpose in our hearts to praise and trust our God, believing that he won’t allow anything to happen to us unless it is for our good. As David says in Psalm 59 (GNB) ‘My refuge is God, the God who loves me.’

But remember, if we are doing well at school, we get put into a higher class, and the lessons get harder.

Maybe the giant you are facing now is different from mine, but we are likely to come up against them all at different times.

Selwyn Hughes names a few. The giant of Fear? I still have to speak out God’s word to send him packing. ‘God has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power and love and of a sound mind.’ 
 

Lust? We are true to our partners, not because we do not find others attractive, but because we love our husbands/wives too much to ever think of stealing from them. How much more must we determine not to hurt our Saviour, who loves us so much, by desiring lesser things.

Do we struggle with Shame; the shame of past memories perhaps? Is not this a form of pride? We don’t want others to think we are capable of having stooped so low. But we are all sinners, and whenever we hear of someone committing what we may consider a terrible sin, we need to remind ourselves, ‘There go I, but for the grace of God.’

Then there is Giant Despair. Do you remember how, in Pilgrims Progress, Pilgrim and his companion had wandered into Bypass Meadow and were taken captive by this giant, and locked up in Doubting Castle. In this hopeless situation, Faithful realises that he has a key, the key of faith that will unlock every door. They speak out the word of God and are released from their captivity.

Thank God, however deep our depression, we all have this key, which is also our sword; the Bible, the Word of God. I trust we will all remember to use it so that, like Jack, we can become Giant Killers, or at least Giant chasers.     

*Acts 5:31

Amazing Grace

‘What happened to Amazing Grace?’ I asked my friend.

 

Don’t worry, I was not into theology. I had a poem to read as part of a wedding service, and my new found friend had pointed out that I was to follow the singing of this hymn. But suddenly I was announced. My question concerning Amazing Grace was whispered as I scrabbled to get my glasses and sheet of paper.

 

I have been laughing about this ever since. But though the minister had to squeeze in the hymn later in the service, because he had not been wearing his glasses, God’s amazing grace was very evident in this beautiful marriage.

 

Both of their lives had been in a mess, but probably it was their messes that had driven them to the refuge that is in Christ Jesus, and then to meet up with each other.  Over the past three years we have seen God’s amazing grace at work in their lives, transforming them into children of God who are now responsive to his quietest whisper.

 

Thiers’s could not possibly be an expensive wedding, and yet every need had been met to make it a bountiful occasion. The church was  beautifully adorned, the service so joyful and relaxed, and when the beautiful bride arrived joy abounded as she walked, or was it danced up the aisle to the song, ‘His love lifts me higher.’ (No, I didn’t know it, but it seems most of us did.)

 

There were many from both of their families who did not ‘do’ church, but after this wonderful service they realised that they did not have to be afraid, or shut God out of their lives.

 

And my poem? As I read the words God  had given me I knew what had happened to amazing grace. It was evident in every part of the service, as in his provision for their lives, for as I read I knew God was there, speaking to and blessing this special couple, who will continue to be a blessing in so many lives.

 

Thank God for his Amazing Grace.  

A HAPPY NEW YEAR

What can I share with you as we step into yet another New Year? The word God is impressing on me is to face it with ‘confidence and joy.’

 

I have been going through a great sadness as my beloved Brother in law, Pastor Les Davies, has been dying. Glory for him, but a great loss for us who were close to him. And then there is the ever persistent challenge of old age, for Facebook will soon remind you that I have a birthday coming up; while always we hear terrible news of suffering around the world. So how can we obey this word?

 

God first told me to ‘face the future with confidence and joy,’ as I was about to continue my journey into the remote Highlands of Papua New Guinea. It had taken great courage to leave my family and everything I knew, to leave UK and fly to Australia. Staying there for a month I became overwhelmed by the thought of the vast distances that lay not only behind, but still before me.

 

But now God was asking me to step out with confidence and joy. If you had said it, I would have replied, ‘It is all very well for you to talk.’ But it wasn’t you, but God, who promises to always be with us. It is he who enabled me then, and  he will enable each of us to face whatever lies before us in this New Year.

 

Now, it is not the vast distances across the Pacific and the mountains of Papua New Guinea that I am facing, but just the drive, partly motorway, up the Swansea Valley to attend my dear Brother in law’s funeral.    Surely the Lord will provide someone to drive and look after this frail little old lady?

 

Yes, he is well able, but I know God does not want me to think of myself as a frail little old lady. ‘As my days, so shall my strength be.’ Moses didn’t begin his ministry until he was 80 and at 120 his strength had not abated, so God is reminding me, still only 83 years young, not to think of giving up but to share with you his admonition, to  ‘face the future with confidence and joy.’

 

A whole New Year, but first, just this day

To face with joy as we go on our way

We’ve fresh air to breath and a glad new song

To sing, and new fears we must bid ‘Be-gone.’

New friends to greet but our old ones to treasure

And always new blessings in richest of measure

So we welcome this year knowing life is for living

A gift from our God, always loving and giving.

Happy New Year,

          Pauline

CHRISTMAS AGAIN?

Christmas – a time so full of memories. It can be a wonderful time, but for some it is a very lonely and therefore a painful time.

 

When I first took ‘the wings of the morning’ and found myself, a ‘Singleton’, in the Highlands of New Guinea, it could have been tough, but we have a wonderful God who wants to teach us contentment.

 

Since Mary and I had left the religious movement in which we had been brought up, Christmas had become a difficult time, but there had been healing over the years, and I was looking forward to the gift of us four siblings being together with our Mother before I left this land, maybe for good. Alas, it did not work out.

 

Now, living in the wonderful mountains of New Guinea, and hearing the ‘bello’ calling us to church, I realised just how good God had been in permitting that sad, tearful Christmas day back in the ‘old country.’ God now was teaching me that Christmas is not dependant on family gatherings. It is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ our Lord. 

 

These people, called out of a stone age civilisation, and needing and loving the same Saviour as we do, were now my family. The other single missionaries, mostly from down under, in a special way, were family too and after  joyful service in the church we celebrated together. Godliness with contentment was God’s special gift to me that Christmas.

 

‘No, I don’t mind being alone for Christmas,’ I told my colleagues in Ghana, some years later, who were planned elsewhere. But then an invitation to visit colleagues up north  seemed a tempting offer.  I set out for the bus station, but failed to get suitable transport.  Waiting long hours in the bustle and confusion, with soldiers shouting and threatening, I was given a little insight into what it was like for Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem. I returned to my village disappointed, but God had a special, if different Christmas for me.

 

I was able to accompany our local Ghanaian pastor and his wife as they set out to visit some of their far flung churches.

 

No it was not a Christmas of indulgence and feasting. The roads were long and dusty, and when we arrived unannounced, the service might be over, but the people soon gathered again and what a time of joy and celebration. Our Saviour, born in poverty and laid in a manger, was present among us, our risen Lord.

 

But what about a Christmas dinner? I was starving.

 

We stopped at a wayside stall and the pastor bought us a coconut each. I had never had such a delicious drink. It satisfied my hunger and thirst. Jesus’ birthday had been different, but special that year too.

 

My own family are too frail to gather with me now, as they have done of recent years, but Joel left me the heritage of a loving family and I am loved and welcome in their hearts and home. And I have a very special Christmas blessing of being able to go  into the schools to tell the children about Jesus’ birthday. Today I have been telling how some mother in Bethlehem, hearing of the baby in the manger, sent the children to say they would make room for the Holy family in their home. (We know someone did, for by the time the wise men arrived they entered into a house.)

And we too can make room for Jesus in our hearts and homes.

 

So, whatever our circumstances, I pray we will all make room for Jesus in our situations, and that we will be surprised by the joy of his love and provision, and yes, his very presence.

Remembrance

A hundred years since the declaration of that great war, intended to end all wars!

We do well to remember. How can we help but be touched as we hear of so many fathers, sons and sweet hearts becoming ‘cannon fodder’? So many who set out in high hope, thinking they were about to engage in some great adventure.

But sadly it was not the end, for warfare still continues in various parts of the globe. And as I listened to the moving tributes and remembrances I thought of others who had fallen, stirred to set out on high adventure, knowing they too were involved in warfare, not for Queen and Country, but as part of the Lord’s army, engaged in driving back darkness and fear and making known the name of Jesus, the light of the world.

 

We lost gifted young men in the pioneering days of our missionary enterprise in Papua New Guinea, mothers and babies dying too because families were willing to live in these remote places. We still hear of tragedy among the skilled and daring pilots who fly in these and other dangerous places.

In this season of remembrance, God is reminding me that we all are in his army,  engaged in warfare against the powers of evil. I trust I am still a missionary, though I no longer travel overseas, climb mountains or learn foreign languages.

We must be on our guard, whatever our age or circumstances. There is armour we must wear, and a sword we must learn to use against the enemy.

How moving to see the poppies filling the moat of the Tower of London, and the petals falling, each representative of a life so sadly lost, that we might live in freedom.

We do well to remember, but there is another occasion for remembrance, when we eat bread and drink wine together. Jesus asked us to do this in remembrance of the life he was about to pour out. It is sad if the Communion service becomes a formality as we partake week by week, but equally sad if it allowed to be pushed aside as an afterthought.

Jesus asked us to break the bread and drink the wine that we might never ever forget how great the price he paid for our deliverance from evil, and how wonderful  the victory he won over sin and death and the grave.

Some may find a life of adventure easier to face than a quieter life style, but a desk job might be equally important in winning a war. Let’s not think our lives unimportant if we are not called to do exploits. What is important is winning the war, so whether it is a martyr’s death or the long steady tramp to glory, we must fix our eyes on Jesus, and keep our spiritual armour on for, yes, the battle is the Lord’s and if we are his, we are in his triumphal procession, part of his army.   

Great? Britain

It was the recent debate over the Scottish issue that got me thinking about my identity.

As a child I knew I was part of the great British Empire. Empire Day was a great event in school, but gradually the red has disappeared from much of our globe, and we are grateful that our Queen still heads up a commonwealth. So, are we still Great Britain?

Evidently it wasn’t our empire that gave us the name ‘great,’ but it was to distinguish Britain from Brittany. Well yes, we are greater than this even smaller land.

It was when I was living ‘Down Under,’ that I became aware I had come from UK, the United Kingdom, though I was teased as being a Pommy, (a Prisoner of Old Mother England). But it was returning, after five years in New Guinea, and taking my report around the churches,  that I realised that everyone would not be happy to be referred to as English, even if it was our common language.

Since marrying Joel, I am proud to proclaim myself Welsh by marriage, but I  have found I belong to a people fiercely determined to preserve their own language, many of whom seem still resentful of the domination and oppression of the English,  perhaps not only in centuries past.

Our Queen may not be the only one relieved to know we can still claim to be a United Kingdom, though this may not be an end to the controversy.

English by birth, I know  great good came to our land when we shared King James with the Scots. Foremost had to be an end to the skirmishes and fighting over our borders, but what a blessing was the King James Bible. I, for one, still use it to memorise God’s word.

But is it just selfishness, and because of my English background that I have a fear of our unity being destroyed and each of us going our own way? It seems inherent in us all, since the fall, that we want our own way and have this fear of being in subjection to another. Today not many women are willing to promise to obey. And I know a toddler whose first sentence was, ‘Me do it,’ refusing help in putting on her shoes, though she could not manage it, however long she struggled. Another child, born without thumbs, would refuse help when she undoubtedly needed it, insisting she could do it, though her jumbled words came out as, ‘I do it my byself.’

Many of those countries once counted as colonies would never relinquish their independence, though in their hearts knowing there were far less tribal disputes, and a more secure economy when  others had authority.

  There is a Ghanaian folk tale which seems relevant when there is conflict over this question of unity. 

A Father, anxious that his son should not leave the family farm, challenged him to gather a bundle of sticks. Each stick was easily snapped. Now he asked his son to tie them into a bundle. The son found them impossible to break.

I believe there is strength in our remaining as a United Kingdom. But why am I writing about this? I am somewhat ignorant where politics are concerned, and probably there are many sides to this issue, but I find myself challenged by Jesus’ words, ‘Seek first the Kingdom of God.’

Christ is our king, and though some of us are called to get involved with politics and issues of present society, above all, we must seek his kingdom and proclaim one Lord, one faith, one baptism.

But we see many divisions, splits and splinter groups, even within the Body of the Christian church. With Paul we say, ‘Is Christ divided?’ Many of us have sought to break away and build our own church, so how can we help to bring us together again?

Paul’s words to the Ephesians are ringing in my ears, to ‘keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace.’ (Eph. 4:3) I’m glad God doesn’t ask us to make this unity, just to keep it.

We are commanded to pray for kings, so may I be obedient, praying especially for our Queen, and those in authority in our United Kingdom.  May I join with my faithful blog-readers with all my heart to seek first the Kingdom of God, and do my  part to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace.