A SHINING PATH

We were in a Watch-night service, perhaps around mid-night when I clearly saw a picture of a path of light, spreading before me. Then God began to put into words  this picture he was giving me. This was my first experience of the gift of prophecy, which my friend, Esther Knight informed me would become the most precious thing in my life.

It was only later that I  came across this verse in the Bible, and indeed many utterances I had heard through seasoned prophets, were all based on this wonderful Book, the Bible.

Looking back I remember how I began my walk on this shining path. It was through Billy Graham and also my faithful friend Esther that I had learned that Jesus had died, not just for Adam, but if no one else had sinned, that he had needed to die that terrible death for me, but although now I was meeting with God in a wonderful way, I was still going to worship with those who  denied this evangelical teaching.

I was in mental agony, until I cried out, ‘Lord, it was so easy for your disciples. They just had to follow Jesus and I am trying to find out what is right and what is wrong.’

Clearly God spoke into my heart.

‘No,’ he told me. ‘ It is just the same for you. It is just for you to follow Jesus.’

‘Lord, if that is really true, make it so plain for me that it is either to choose you or deny you.’

It was a very few weeks later that God did just that. Explaining my dilemma to Esther’s father, he told me, ‘For me to go where they deny that Jesus is God would be to deny my Lord.’

I knew the decision was made. I would never go back. I found myself embraced in the fellowship of the Apostolic Church and on the shining path. No turning back.

It was a few years along this path that I thought God was calling me to be a missionary. Every time I heard a missionary speaking I felt I was being called there, until I realised that maybe God wanted me to be willing to go anywhere for him. So for several years I continued as a teacher in the needy mission field of London’s East End.

Esther meanwhile had gone to Nigeria. But there was no call for me to work beside her, and yet there had to be somewhere with no mountains or log bridges, for I was not of an adventurous nature.

Then a request came from Australia for teachers or nurses with a missionary calling so I responded, but heard nothing back for two years. Perhaps all God askes is for us to be willing? In the meantime I had become a deputy headmistress and in line for a headship which had helped me to become more confident.

So I was being led along this shining path until I was in a prayer meeting, my flight booked for the following Sunday en route for Australia and eventually Papua New Guinea. It was then I had a panic attack. 

‘Lord, I won’t be able to leave everyone I know and go alone.’

The Lord answered me.

‘I am going. You can come with me, or leave me.’

Whatever decision I have to  take, it is always – to choose Christ or to deny him, as I had asked.

Now in my old age I know some have feared that I have rushed into decision-making, but my Saviour is the Wonderful Counsellor, and  he continues to prove to me that his will is good and acceptable and perfect. He never asks me to step into any situation without coming with me.

Our Saviour does not ask all of us to go to foreign shores or to learn foreign languages, but he has a plan and purpose for each one of us that is good and acceptable and perfect and if we ask him he will make it a shining path for each one of us.  

 

RETIREMENT

My husband and I were agreed that as Christians we should never retire. Our work abroad was over when we married, and at 65, Joel retired from his pastorate in UK, happy to lay down his duties of administration while we continued to take every opportunity of ministry in whatever sphere. We were still missionaries

When God called me to write, my children’s books had opened doors for me to take assemblies in our local schools.

Joel was eighty one when he was ‘promoted’. He had been studying and preaching up to a fortnight before he died. He didn’t suffer and he hadn’t seen old age. Our diary was full, so  I was left to fulfil our many Sunday preaching opportunities as well as becoming further involved in the schools as I now was able to train to teach Bible Explorer. What a joy.

Nearer ninety now, Lock Down gently closed this door for me into the schools. Was I the only one who enjoyed it? Long undisturbed days for writing? But now, aged 91, my health seems to have hit a low. The two books I have been working on are published. So what now Lord?

I find the Lord reminding me of a visit we were asked to make some years ago.

A son had taken his mother into their home. ‘She is in the waiting room.’ He told us.

Another dear lady my brother used to visit, had gone into care, knowing she also was a ‘lady in waiting.’

So, with health problems increasing, and in spite of a pace maker, experiencing  unexpected and painful falls, is it time for me too to become a lady in waiting?

But I’m sure the Queen does not think of retiring her ladies in waiting. And though I may not be engaged in other ministries God has a purpose for me as I still am able to shed his love abroad.

Many years ago Joel and I  had the privilege of going into a local care home to take a service, never thinking we might one day be one of their residents. What a joy then to find a harvest field happily prepared to welcome me. So no, no retirement, but maybe a new field of service will open up, still with church friends  around making sure that as long as I am able I will be in the prayer meeting and Sunday services.

So let’s take receive each day as a gift from our Father, who promises that our days so shall our strength be.

 

 

SCARECROWS

 I used to love the stories of the scarecrow, Worzel Gummidge. Recently childhood memories have been awakened as Susan and John have been exploring again with the old rascal the glories of the countryside.

But the purpose of the scarecrow was to scare the crows. Abraham once was given the task much scarier than that of scaring the crows. His enemies were vultures  and he dared not forsake this task for a moment. I have never  forgotten the story. You can find it in Genesis 15.

God agreed to make a covenant with Abraham and gave him instructions as to how to prepare the animals ready to be sacrificed. But this was not all he had to do, for the offering was not to be made until evening, and Abraham’s task was to protect the carcasses through the heat of the day, and not just from crows, but from vultures, great birds of prey.

When living in Ghana we learned to appreciate the vultures who cleared away the carrion around us, but I have recently had need to remember the lesson the preacher was seeking to impress on us.

‘You cannot stop the birds flying round your head but you can keep them from nesting in your hair.’

I felt that I was being attacked by wrong thoughts. I knew that they were wrong, ugly thoughts that were attacking me but try as I could they continued to flap around my head  and I seemed to be unable to be rid of them. But suddenly and unexpectedly all these ugly thoughts, together with the accompanying depression, was gone.

‘Thanks be unto God who gives us the victory through Jesus Christ our Lord.’

 

SWEETEST INFANT VOICES

As teachers we used to laugh at those words, for children’s voices are often far from sweet. I  remember a time when the sound  of  play time coming from our local school still brought a feeling of dread to my stomach. But now, instead, it brings joyful memories as I treasure the privilege I had of going into our local primary schools and
knowing Jesus was coming in with me.

If only I had known Jesus as my Saviour and Friend as a little child, how different my school days might have been. And yet , there can be tough experiences for Christian children too, however well taught and supported.

Challenged as to how to help a family who have been seeing their child coming home in tears, I feel impressed to share a story I heard from a parent of a pastor long since in the ministry. His ‘gang’ had excluded him from playing football with them. This was persecution indeed.

Mother challenged her son to pray with her and see how Jesus would come into the situation to help to make things  right. Doubtless he was still in the Infants for Mum was around as they came out of school. They watched from a distance  to see his mates enjoying  their game without him. But strangely there was  no football. Somehow the ball had been lost.

I don’t think his pals thought  to exclude him again, and he certainly had learned the lesson that if he invited  Jesus into his situation that he could change even the most painful one.

I often think how different my childhood would have been if I had been taught that Jesus had died for me, that he forgave all my sins and would give me courage to face every difficulty. But even as an adult I have had to learn to pray and ask Jesus to come with me into a difficult situation whereas I had failed previously.

So let’s pray for our schools, for Christian teachers and workers and especially pray for and with our children as they face their own Goliaths or other form of persecution.
 
 

HEAVEN'S GATE

 There are two occasions in my life when I have felt that I was at heaven’s gate, but on each occasion - well – I am still here, aren’t I?

Alone in a strange land, as I regained consciousness from a head-on collision, I had a picture in my mind of a young Ghanaian brother, who had died very suddenly just a fortnight ago, now dancing before the Lord. (Ghanaians can dance) ‘Lord’, I whispered, ‘You took William, but you did not take me.’

No, it was not an audible answer, but it was one I have never forgotten.

‘Because of the children.’

 For nearly forty years I have had the privilege of teaching the children that they are special and loved by God. How I thank him that he had not opened the gates of heaven to me at that time.  

But now I am ninety years old. I have been rejoicing that for over a year I have enjoyed good health and no ‘incidents’, when suddenly and very painfully I found myself once again in hospital where it was swiftly decided that I should be fitted with a pace-maker. However, before this could be done, once again I found myself at heaven’s door. I regained consciousness to look into what seemed like a crowd of anxious, now relieved faces.

But heaven’s gates seemed so very near to me. I was pleading with the Lord to let me in. Like my beloved husband, I would be saved the indignity of old age. But once again I must believe that God still has a purpose for me, though no longer in the schools.

Back in the ward I was crying in pain. I had to accept that the doors of heaven were firmly closed, but our Saviour had left heaven once before to come to save us. ‘Lord,’ I whispered. ‘Would you send Jesus to help me?’

He did. I know that Jesus was present in the loving nurse who came now and sat and held my hand. I found Jesus too in some of the patients whom I had previously found so difficult, and now I am back home I am realising what a privilege it is to be still here to bring Jesus to others, and what a wonderful gift is each day that he gives us.

And I thank God that he is teaching me that the gates of heaven are never closed to us, even though he is asking us to remain here as conduits of his grace and love and power.

HEAVEN’S GATES

I knocked in vain at heaven’s door

‘Lord, open now’ I cried

‘For I am weak and helpless

Oh, leave me not outside.’

‘No, not outside, Beloved –

Nought bars your entering in

Remember that I sent my Son

To conquer death and sin.

The door to heaven is open

Though you’re still here, weak and frail

For I’ve given you life in Jesus

And for you there is no veil.

So rejoice in your life in Jesus.

He has conquered death and hell

And though your strength is failing

In me you will prevail.’

                   

 

SUNRISE ON THE GOWER

 

When I booked in to attend a retreat at Nicholaston House, part of the blessing of this special occasion was to have a room overlooking Oxwich Bay and seeing away on to the hills of Devon.

The first morning I woke, as usual, while it was still dark so I drew back my curtains and lay there in happy expectation of sunrise. However, this wonderful view was not enough. The next time I got out of bed I opened the curtain of one of the side windows. This one was facing East rather than South. Imagine my surprise to find the sun had risen and was already flooding the sky with streaks of glory.

The next morning I knew where to look and had a very special blessing as I actually saw the first peep of the sun rising above the roof of the Celtic chapel which is nestling beside the house. If I had lain on in bed I would not have seen it, for by the time the sun
had fully arisen a mist was covering the bay.

This week was very special for me, meeting some old friends and making many new ones. The retreat was titled ‘Grace-Space.’ A small and close group of us, in spite of Covid and the necessity to still  wear masks, we shared in lovely times of devotion, where we were meditating and looking afresh at some of the old familiar stories of Jesus; opening our hearts too to the transformation of our lives.

But I think the greatest blessing I brought back from this retreat was that God wants us to be a people who are watching for the sunrise – ‘Looking for and hastening unto the coming of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.’ He has promised us that he will come again. When he does, every darkness will be banished and our world will be flooded with the light of life. But let’s make sure we are looking in the right direction.

Even so come, Lord Jesus.

JOURNEY OF LIFE

 It was an outward, rather than a homeward journey that was the inspiration for this meditation. Two years had passed since our last coach holiday but now at last the feeder buses had brought us all together and we were on our way. But as we reached the next service station we were told there might be some delay. We may not think a wind screen wiper an item of great importance, but it had rendered this 40 seater bus unsafe to drive. Not too long and the repair van was off and we too on our way. We were expected to arrive in Eastbourne by 5 o’clock. There would be plenty of time to settle in before our meal.

Oh no, not again. This time we were waiting, not for the repair van but a new coach, for the wipers had failed again. Vision is all important and not to be trifled with, but it meant a lengthy wait. Fortunately we were at yet another service station where there is every basic convenience, but not where we would choose to start our holiday.

Am I to squander my time in boredom and frustration? Or has my Father something to teach me?

As a writer I usually carry pen and paper, and had with me some notes I had made yesterday at our special Harvest service. Inspiration began to flow. I found myself in imagination among those seated on that hillside where Jesus had taken the loaves and fishes, given thanks, breaking bread and feeding us all.

In those apparently barren hours Jesus was there, breaking bread and feeding again. And once again Jesus was giving me that precious gift of godliness with contentment.

Eventually another bus arrived, painted as a great ‘red dragon’. It was dark and yes, still raining, but it was more spacious inside. Our all- important wipers were working and so we settled down, trusting the driver. We trusted there would be no more stops until we reached our hotel some three hours later. The hotel was advised of our delay and had promised to have food on the table as soon as we arrived, hopefully something after seven.

As the driver drove purposefully through the long, dark night  and we rested in

confidence, I meditated on the journey of life. Like this trip, it can be eventful and for some of us, very long, but if our faith is in Jesus then we know that we will not only eventually arrive safely, and that there will be a wonderful welcome.

The driver had his radio on as we powered through that dark wet night, but was it music he was playing? At times it sounded to me like screaming or wailing, a reminder that we are traveling through a land where Satan is the prince of darkness, yet now and again a gentle melody would break through as if assurance from the Prince of Peace himself.

And yes, we did arrive, something after 7pm and a sumptuous meal almost immediately set before us, the beginning of a happy break. So now I am back in my Eagle’s Nest, looking forward, not to a break, but to an eternity of joy and peace and yes, creativity when this journey of life will be over and we will be home, home at last.