TO BE A PILGRIM – April 20

    ‘He who would valiant be, ’gainst all disaster,

    Let him in constancy follow the Master.’

Many of us learned this well-loved hymn in our school days, associating it with John Bunyan’s epic  tale of Pilgrim’s Progress.

I don’t remember when I first read this wonderful story, recently dramatized on television. It was written in all the squalor of Bedford Jail where he was imprisoned for many years for preaching the Gospel.

Nor do I remember how old I was when we were taken to the West End to see a dramatized version. I have never forgotten the part when the pilgrims were assaulted in Vanity Fair, not for anything they had done, but for refusing to associate with their decadent life style. When Faithful was put to death, all we saw was the glow of the fire and a beautiful solo voice singing, ‘My heart ever faithful.’

But my strongest memory of the play was of Pilgrim and his friend leaving the path to take a short cut, as they thought, through by-pass meadow. Here they were captured by Giant Despair and shut up in Doubting Castle. It is strongest because it is one I have needed to be reminded of through the long years.

The pilgrims were convinced that was no escape until Hopeful suddenly realises he has a key in his pocket; it is the key of FAITH. Together they begin to proclaim the wonderful promises of God.

‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’ and again -

‘What can separate us from the love of God?’

That dark, gloomy dungeon becomes full of light; the prison doors swung open wide. They are free and their feet once more on the King’s high way.

I have had need to remember this story in times of difficulty and darkness, and never more so than now that we are shut up, imprisoned in a sense by the threat of Coronavirus and social distancing, but now, thank God, we are prisoners of Hope, not of Despair..

I remember a young man telling us how he suffered from depression, until God told him that it was his choice. Thank God, like our Pilgrims, he took out the key of faith and chose the path of deliverance.

So now, are we prisoners of despair or prisoners of hope? Are we shut up to depression, or shut up in the purposes of God to discover the new ways God is opening for us to still shine his light and spread his Gospel?

    ‘There’s no discouragement, to make us once relent,

    Our first avowed intent to be a pilgrim.’

RAINBOWS

In the midst of the darkness of this pandemic Coronavirus, rainbows are appearing in many windows bringing light, joy and hope.

After the terrible world-wide flood when Noah and this family, who dared to believe God, had been

shut up in the ark for months on end, they had come out at last into the sunshine and a fresh new world. It was then that God set his bow in the sky, a special sign of his assurance that this would never happen again and that our seasons would be sure.

God’s bow, unlike the bows they used for hunting, is  one of glorious colour; yes, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

‘Richard of  York gained battles in vain,’ is how we were taught to remember the sequence.

‘Whenever you see a rainbow, remember God is love.’ Do you know this song?  My class were singing it to me. We had been thrilled to have a dull and stormy day brightened with this gift.

‘Our music teacher taught us,’ they told me. I have never forgotten.

Far away in the land of New Guinea rainbows became of special significance. I was in a tiny single engine plane flying in territory said to be the most dangerous in the world when we were battered by a storm. Looking ahead, visibility was almost nil.

My fellow passenger nudged me. ‘Look out of the window.’ I looked, first to one side and then the other. Our little plane was encircled by a rainbow. How could I be afraid?

Another time, I was not afraid for the safety of the huge passenger jet. Sent home early because of ill health, I thought I had failed in my career as a missionary but again God spoke to me through a rainbow.The shadow of our plane was thrown onto a cloud and yes, there we were, within the circle of a rainbow. God was assuring me. I was in his hand. All was well.

There is one more very special memory I have of a rainbow. I have never seen one of so vast a span or so vibrant in colour.

Due for furlough, I had just been told I could not return. But this was my life calling. I had learned the language and the work was opening up. I should have been in the depths of despair, but how could I be? For God was speaking through this magnificent rainbow reaching over the valley.

It did not mean I would return, as I thought, but it did mean I was in God’s hand and he was working out his best in my life.

And now, in this time of isolation, I go into my kitchen to be greeted by rainbows the children have painted for me and my heart is lifted up.

Living in sheltered accommodation, I try to leave something positive on our notice board, so I have written my own mnemonic for the rainbow. I pray you too will be blessed and that God will find his own wonderful way to speak peace and joy to your heart.

RAINBOW

Rain mixed with sunshine speaks out of God’s love

Always – this promise, given after the Flood.

I AM – is God’s name, He will always be there

Never to leave you, so cast on Him your care.

Bow, as for hunting – God still seeking his own, while

On high is a rainbow surrounding his throne.

Wonder! Yes, wonder at the height and depth of God’s love,

            For ‘tis He sent the rainbow to bring hope from above.

There were many of these colours in the sunset that inspired the following meditation, so I share this too.

MEDITATION

28 March 2020, 7pm

I had been watching the glory of the sunset from my Eagle’s Nest, as I call my apartment, but now the glory is fading, dark clouds of night gathering, yet I am resting in the assurance of a new day. And as we experience dark clouds of fear spreading over our world, God is speaking to our hearts that as the natural night brings us rest and refreshing, so he will be working in this time of spiritual darkness and He is saying, I want you to prepare to look for the dawning of a new day.

The glory began to fade until it was as if the blinds of night had been drawn, but even so I waited and wondered, for there seemed to be windows of crimson still lingering in the darkness, and I was reminded  that while the land of Egypt was covered in darkness, for God’s people it was light.

We are children of light.

   

WAR ZONE

‘There are worse things than bombs.’ Having evacuated as a family at the outbreak of war and in cramped conditions, my mother was now very ill and the doctor advised my father to get her home.

So it was that I was in the London area throughout World War two. Our cellar was turned into a dormitory so that there was no panic when the sirens wailed  and it seemed God honoured the faith of my parents in his promises in Psalm 91, for we suffered no more than broken windows though there was tragedy  around us.

Years later the terrible smog enveloped London and I was horrified when I realised how this pollution was lining the lungs of animals too, but when I read, again in Psalm 91,  ‘the terror that wastes by noonday,’ I knew God had spoken to me that I must not fear, and indeed the problem was dealt with.

Now it seems another war has been declared, the dreaded Coronavirus, and once again the battle is against fear.

I had thought my present warfare was against old age, and that if I had plenty of company and stimulation, keeping fit in body and mind I had nothing to fear. But now all fellowship is forbidden and us ‘oldies’ especially confined to splendid isolation.

Once again I realise we are in a war zone, and I believe God has given me these verses, once again based on Psalm 91, to help us overcome fear.

                        CORONAVIRUS

A pestilence is creeping

While darkest clouds are sweeping

Till all around is blinding us with worry and with fear

But on God’s word we’re standing,

Not shifting sands but grounding

On promises. ‘twill not come nigh, so cast away your fear.’

So we’re singing songs of praising,

Though seas around are raging

For on the darkest hours on earth God’s voice is ringing clear

‘Yes, I am here to guide you,

From every plague I’ll hide you

As chicks beneath their mother’s wings find shelter. I am near.’

For many others there are different and more terrible wars still being waged, for they are suffering grievously because they are Christians. Asia Bibi was in solitary confinement for nine years while we prayed for her release. Would we see a woman gaunt and broken? I was amazed to see her in good health, the  beauty of the Lord on her. She had had her bible and she too had been trusting is Psalm 91.

So, whatever our circumstances, let us war a good warfare and take refuge under the shadow of God’s wings. 

IRIS

I’m sure we have all delighted in the beautiful iris flowers, whether blooming in our gardens, part of a bouquet or even flowering in some wild marsh land.

But I am writing this blog about a very special lady named Iris. It was at her funeral that we heard of the meaning of the name, and the significance of the different colours. It seems that its primary significance is ‘faith, hope, wisdom, courage and admiration.’ What better name could have been given to our Iris, Iris Hare.

We think of funerals as sad occasions, but when it is of a Christian who has lived a full and fruitful life and has spent her final years, though in need of nursing care, at peace with God and man, we can only be thankful. Iris’s funeral was a testimony of God’s power to save and to keep, and though there is always sadness in parting, we know that it is her God who has come to release her from her body of humiliation in order that she may be clothed with  her new body of glory and beauty.

It was John Wesley who boasted that the early Methodists knew how to die well. I hadn’t been able to visit Iris of later years but I am sure that she who had lived so well, had also died well.

I was so thankful for a friend who enabled me to attend her – I won’t say funeral, though there had to be a grave side, but her thanksgiving service. 

The eldest of three sisters, one of my first memories is of Iris leading a Women’s Rally. A new-comer to the area, I was the speaker, so had a good view of her two sisters sitting in the front row and looking up in admiration at their older sister who was leading.

It was lovely to hear of some who were welcomed into her home as little children and then taken to Sunday School, Iris like the Pied Piper, the trail of children increasing as they walked through the village until, in the little Apostolic Church, Iris faithfully, and unforgettably, taught them from God’s word of the love of Jesus their Saviour.

How many will there be in heaven through Iris’s faithful witness, not only in words but through her shining example?

Although aged fifty, I was courting and then newly married when I first met Iris and she was such a blessing in my life. I wrote these verses for her ninetieth birthday and felt I wanted to add them here as my thanksgiving for the beautiful life of my sister Iris.

Bright little lady,

          Overflowing with praise

So faithful in serving

          In all of your ways

Thank you, Iris, who welcomed me

Loving sister, mother

          Devoted in prayer

I had only to ask and

          God’s answer was there

Thank you, Iris, who prayed for me

God’s faithful handmaid

          Waiting on His word

To speak or to be silent

          Responding to her Lord

Thank you for speaking God’s word to me

Our dear loving Iris

Still writing words of love

Still God’s faithful servant

Your treasure stored above

Thank you, Iris, for your love to me

But there is part of Iris’s story which has impressed me deeply, for though her children  have shared her faith and are walking with Jesus, for many years her husband was an unbeliever and could make life difficult for her. However, God had given Iris a picture, or was it maybe a dream, of  her Max holding her hand and of them walking together to the house of God. Was it possible that he would ever change and this come to pass?

One day a friend, not perhaps known for her prayer life, came to her and they agreed together to pray and fast for the impossible to become possible. And yes, the miracle happened, and we believe that Iris with her Max are now united in heaven.

We thank God for the story of Iris, and most of all, of her wonderful Saviour.

                       

THE KISS - A NEW YEAR'S BLOG

‘Would a kiss help?’

The dignified Head Mistress looked down on the small miscreant gazing hopefully up at her. Having told him in no uncertain tones that she was grieved – yes grieved to see him yet again standing outside his classroom door, I can imagine how completely disarmed she must have been by his innocent offer of a kiss.

Poor Thomas. I don’t remember his name so we’ll call him that, though he certainly was not a doubter. After his early years of being pushed from pillar to post in foster care, he was at last secure and treasured in a loving family and taught of one, Jesus, who loved and treasured him too.

Life was so exciting and he did so want to please his teacher, but somehow the more he tried the more he seemed to get things wrong.

I never heard the end of this story, but I do know what my answer would have been, for yes, a kiss (or a hug – a cwtch as we say in Wales) does help.

When my husband died I struggled with the tears. He had always been there, if I felt sad or hurt, to pray for me yes, but his hugs had been the best part. So now I would just tell the Lord, ‘Lord, I need a hug.’ God did not come down from heaven to answer my prayer. One day it was a little girl who, recognising me from my school visit, gave me a lovely hug, right around my knees. Another day it was the lady who worked in the Visitor’s Centre. And then there is my lovely ‘Scrabble’ friend who, seeing the tears threatening to spill from my eyes, called me aside. ‘Come here,’ she said, and wrapped me in a bear hug.

Often I would tell people, ‘Do you know that hugs come from Heaven?’ and would go on to explain, ‘I told God I needed a hug, and he sent it through you.’ I rarely have to ask God these days, but he still sends me hugs, and I love to pass on his hugs to others – all from heaven.

I remember my husband preaching on God’s kiss, and over the years I have come in some small measure, to understand and so, in this my New Year’s blog I would share what he has been showing me.

When God created the world, the planets, the plants and animals, he spoke the word and they came into being. But when he made Adam, he himself took clay and formed the wonders of a human body, - but then. Yes, he gave Adam life by breathing into him. You know what we call that? Yes, God gave mankind the kiss of life.

And when God was made flesh and came and dwelt among us, as a little child God made himself vulnerable and we were able to ‘Worship the Beloved with a kiss,’ as the carol says.

But God did not only send His Son so that we might know what he was like, but so that he could die on the cross in our place, - yes, to cross out all the bad things we have done.

In school, we don’t like to see a cross by our work. It means it is wrong. But the cross of Jesus, if we will accept its message, means forgiveness so that from now on we can see the Xs as kisses, for God sees us now as in Jesus, and we are now the righteousness of Christ.

A kiss does help, doesn’t it? We can run to God, as a little child, when we get it wrong and straight away God gives us his kiss of forgiveness. We can run to him when we are bruised or hurting and he will kiss it better, and when we feel unwanted or unloved, or even full of joy but have no one to share it with, his arms are always open to us and his kiss is for us.

‘In his presence is fullness of joy,’ 

THE KISS

Butterfly gentle caress on the brow of the sleeping child

Father heart strong embrace for the son turned again from the wild

Peace in the place of warfare, Tears kissed from the sorrowful one

Ardent strength of the lover who knows life is only begun

But what of the kiss of our Maker breathing life in the form he had made?

And the worshipful kiss of the maiden in whose arms as a babe he was laid?

The cost of the kiss of our Saviour, crossing out all the wrongs we have done?

And the bliss of the kiss of our Lord for his Church at the marriage feast of the Lamb?

JESUS' DILEMMA

We had a big day recently as Christian Writers. Once a year we seek to gather from South Wales for a time of mutual encouragement. We met in Hope Chapel, and after  much inspiration, exhortation and encouragement, now it was our turn to do some writing.

As part of Teresa’s workshop, we had read together the biblical account of how Mary and Joseph, having accompanied the twelve year old Jesus to Jerusalem, made the terrible discovery that he was no longer with them. Now we were asked to write of their thoughts and feelings as they returned to the city to look for him.

Why did I have this strong desire to fast forward to further along in the story? It was not difficult to enter into the heart of Mary as, robbed of a night’s rest, they trailed wearily back to the city, and so I joined the others in writing of the pain and concern of these parents.

But now I have opportunity to write of this strong memory which had been replaying in my heart.

I was the preacher for a small congregation. Among the children gathered in the front I was especially conscious of two lads, knowing they had been persuaded by their single Dad to come with the promise that they would enjoy Auntie Pauline.

I am not sure what lesson I had planned to bring, but I know that it was God who had led us to further on in this story where, in the courts of the Temple, Mary and Joseph had at last found their missing son.

Jesus must have been feeling so fulfilled as he had listened to these learned teachers. He had so many questions he wanted answered, and must have been so sure that this was God’s purpose for him; that now was the time for him to fulfil his calling, beginning as a student here in the Temple. He was twelve years old and so now counted as a man under the law. But suddenly his parents had appeared, distressed after their long search and insisting that he must still remain under their care.

‘Honour your father and your mother.’ These are the words he would have recited since he was a little boy, and now they were challenging him.

The Bible doesn’t describe the turmoil of his heart. We only know that his own Father God gave him grace to accept that this was what he must do. He must honour his father and mother and return with them to their home in Nazareth.

I was able to explain to those two boys how hard it must have been for Jesus to keep this commandment, and that when it is hard for them to listen and be obedient to their Dad that Jesus understands because it was hard for him too.

What a wonderful Saviour we have, who enters into all our experiences, and what a wonderful book is the Bible, so that we are not only able to read these stories as history, but to enter into them, walking with the characters and learning the lessons they themselves had to learn.

And for us who feel God’s call to write, may we always meet with God as we read again his wonderful word, and then be ready to share what God has been speaking or doing in our lives as we seek his path of discipleship.

GOD’S OPERATIONS

For those of us who believe in divine healing, hospital is not on our list of options. Nevertheless we know that God uses medicine and doctors to keep us in health and we thank him who those who dedicate their lives to minister health and healing through these means.

I was in my forties when I was told I needed to have my gall bladder removed. I was shocked, frightened, somehow feeling abandoned by God.

Then God spoke to me through a dream. Alone in the house, I dreamed someone was at the front door. I opened, but still with the chain on, and was frightened by the dark face of the stranger outside, wanting to enter. I slammed the door in his face. The next morning, as I listened to a gospel song, God explained to me the meaning of my dream. It was he who was wanting to come into my life through this experience but I was refusing to let him in.

Now, more than forty years on, having prayed for ten years for healing for my knee, when I was told that I needed a new hip, I knew I must be open to this too and indeed, the Lord has been with me in this my recent  experience of hospital.

First, scripturally, I called for the elders and asked to be anointed with oil for healing. After so much prayer I was filled with peace, confidant that God would either heal supernaturally, or else somehow arrange for a quick place for the necessary operation.

Within a few days I found myself in the theatre, to go under the surgeon’s knife. God had promised never to leave me. I was safe and secure and soon back in the ward.

There are verses in the Bible which speak of operations of God through the spirit, and we know that God does sometimes seem to surgically remove hindrances, to enable us to walk with him.

But even in this operation, performed by a skilful surgeon, God still had new lessons to teach me.

First, I had to trust the surgeon. My life is in God’s hand, and as surely as he had opened the way for me to have the operation, I knew I must trust these doctors and nurses provided by him.

The very next day they had me out of bed, trying to take my first steps. This was my second lesson, to learn to walk. I met some wonderful physiotherapists along this learning curve, as well as being introduced to my zimmer. How thankful I have become for this sturdy support, for I am not as bouncy as I was when, more than eighty years ago  I took my very first stumbling steps.

A ZIMMER

A zimmer for me? I’m as fit as a flea but the years have slipped gently by

First a stick, then a walker are helps on the way ‘till now yes – it’s a zimmer for me

Zimmer – bad leg- good leg- I’m off and maybe it won’t be long

I’ll be fit and busy and healthy again and my life still be filled with song

For he who gives us each new day has promised us strength for each hour

So we’ll fear not the future, but like the eagle abroad, learn to rise up and fly by God’s power.

And with my lessons in walking came a special blessing, for three of us were at the same stage and were able to walk up the corridor as far as the nurses’ station. We arranged to meet there for some fellowship and yes, a cup of tea and found that this was all part of our Father’s plan, to meet fellow pilgrims in the journey of life. That night, unable to sleep, I found words jumbling around in my head and next morning out came another little rhyme. All part of God’s therapy I’m sure.                     

Lord, I can’t sleep, so why not pray for another?

So here’s a prayer for we three who’ve just gathered together

For we met with our hips and our crutches and pain

And in meeting we shared that we had a great gain

For we each have a Friend in Christ Jesus today

And we know it is He who has led us this way

And we thank God for friendship and joys on the road

So Lord, please bless us and strengthen and lighten each load

We had not expected friendships to be forged in a hospital, but these were indeed divine appointments.

And now, back in  my own home, there are still lessons to learn. In need of carers until the necessary six weeks is up, I am overwhelmed by the love and kindness of these wonderful ladies who are dedicated to help us to return to health and strength, yes, so patiently kneeling to wash my feet, as Jesus himself had done to his disciples, and helping me to dress while I am forbidden to bend. But also encouraging me to continue to reach out to do what I can.

‘No pain, no gain!’

This is my latest lesson. Yes, I underwent surgery in order to be free from pain, yet knowing it might be worse before it got better. Maybe it is like that with some of the spiritual surgery we have to undergo. It isn’t easy to give up some of our addictions. Yes, painful at first, and yet how great the reward of being set free.

I am forced to battle the pain to get as far as the front door, as well as the bathroom, but I want my liberty, to be able to walk as far as the lift, to the lounge and eventually to the front door of our complex. Oh, it seems a very long way, so for starters I have to venture beyond my own front door.

I am remembering the lesson God taught me in those days of long ago in New Guinea.  I had to climb two mountains to reach home and thought I was already exhausted. Then God asked me, Can you take one step?

Excuse me. I have to go. God is asking me the same question. Yes, I am going to venture outside my front door and yes, I am able to take one step, and one more. Watch this space, or rather, look out for me in church..