I'm sharing this journal entry from one of our sheep / shepherds for your encouragement and invite you to share your stories to keep us connected David
Thursday April 2, 2020: A journal entry:
JESUS WEPT.
A Morning mist of low cloud wrapped soft around the hills.
I read John 6 and tried to ponder on Jesus the living bread. But the mist beckoned and drew me outside, quickly enfolding me in its clammy embrace.
There was no pausing to choose direction. I headed straight up the hill blanketed in the foggy stillness, only birdcall echoing the inner certainty – she’s coming to pray.
Pray up the hill. I haven’t prayed up there for a while. I’ve prayed. But not there on God’s hill, my place of retreat.
At the summit, as cloud drifted and lifted, it was my heart that rained out its anguished plea, the cry for help with COVID19: LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER. Help us Jesus.
That was it. No wordy waffle. I perched on the rim of the damp bench, poised in grief and need; heart, mind and spirit turned to God, “Yet still do I praise you Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Living God.”
A lull then settled over me, like a mute button had been pressed to hush the turmoil of my distressed thoughts and wretched emotions concerning the plight of the world’s people. Wait. Be quiet!
Jesus wept. The words from last Sunday’s reading came to mind loud and clear.
33 When Jesus saw her crying, and the Judaeans who had come with her crying, he was deeply stirred in his spirit, and very troubled. 34 ‘Where have you laid him?’ he asked. ‘Master,’ they said, ‘come and see.’ 35 Jesus burst into tears. (John 11:33-35 NTE)
I too burst into tears, and as I wept, there at the top of the hill, I knew he was weeping with me. Weeping with all the world. Weeping for us all.
Turn to me. And I, turning, vision all awash, could see clearly, he was there. Feed my sheep. To this I shook my head, and thought, I’m no pastor. You are a minister of my word. Therefore, speak my word to others. Speak my word to one another. And suddenly understanding dawned. “You aren’t just saying this to me, are you? It’s your call to all of us: Feed your sheep. The responsibility is ours collectively.” And I pictured the scattered sheep, isolated from one another but belonging together and needing creative new ways of being church and speaking grace and hope to one another and others.
I plunged, then, down the hill, not following the worn paths but winding down the steeper slope, weaving through knee high weeds, around rocky mounds and patches of slippery flattened grass, to emerge at the wider base track.
Now is the time to forge new paths. Jesus is still the Way, the “base track” of my faith remains the same. It’s the network of familiar paths that represent how we have lived out our faith, that have fallen away, not God’s word or his kingdom, or his love.
I am thankful for this love that comes to us where we are: scattered sheep weeping in the mist of uncertainty. I’m thankful that Jesus wept and that his way isn’t set in stone. That he comes and calls us to discover a new and living way, today and tomorrow and the next day. Hallelujah! This is a new day! And the Jesus who weeps with us in our distress will renew us and lead us on beyond COVID19.
JESUS WEPT.
The autumn sun filtered a pale ray through the drifting grey. A reminder that the God who weeps, also sheds light as well as tears.
Flea, flee or free?
by Jonathan Krause
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
… for the king of Israel has come out to seek a single flea (1 Samuel 26:20b).
Read 1 Samuel 26:5–25
Isn’t this just like yesterday’s reading? Two parties, far apart, one fearing the other, one brooding for revenge. Yet instead of the kind of bloodthirsty climax we’d expect if this were a Netflix show, a peaceable way forward is found.
Yesterday, it was Esau embracing and welcoming Jacob – Jacob was expecting to be the victim of what he likely thought was justifiable revenge for his act of trickery.
Today, it is David in a position to kill King Saul, who pursued David into the mountains in a fury of jealousy. Killing Saul would ensure David both safety and status … yet David holds back, knowing it would be going against God’s plan.
While David could have taken the opportunity to humiliate Saul, he instead humbles himself, calling himself a ‘flea’.
Could I do the same?
Is my trust in God complete enough that I will follow God’s command and plan? Even when my own human logic, my inbuilt desire for power and success, and the urging of those around me who see strength only in human terms, would lead me to do otherwise?
How hard it can be to be humble. Especially when we live in such a ‘Look-at-me’ world.
I think of social media influencers. Celebrities famous for being outrageous, rather than doing anything worthwhile. Footballers who kick a goal and then run to the boundary with their arms in the air, seeking the crowd’s acclaim, rather than turning to thank their teammates who did the hard work to make the goal possible.
Jesus shows us a different way.
In Philippians 2:8, we read that ‘Christ humbled himself and became obedient unto death’. Because Jesus has done that for us, we no longer need to fear being only a flea in the face of the world, nor do we need to flee the challenges and dangers it places before us.
Instead, Jesus has set us free. All we need to be is humble enough to trust.
Lord, sometimes it can be hard to place all my trust in you. My pride and confidence in my own powers get in the way. Sometimes the challenges I face seem too overwhelming, or I struggle to see you near me. Help me be humble enough to always place my trust in you in all ways. Amen.
Jonathan describes himself as a ‘happy husband, proud dad and grandad, ALWS worker and long-suffering Magpie fan’.
Sight for sore eyes
by Jonathan Krause
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
and then you will see clearly … (Matthew 7:5b).
Read Matthew 7:1–5
When I turned 50, I gave myself a gift. I’d saved for three years to afford to have my eyes lasered. In what seemed like moments, I could toss away the glasses I’d worn ever since I was 13. Glasses that needed to get thicker and more complex (and expensive) the older I got. I don’t remember the lasering hurting (apart from the hip-pocket), but it felt like a miracle.
Part of my working life was with an aid agency restoring sight in Africa through simple cataract operations. It was fascinating to watch the operations, often in remote villages in the poorest parts of the world, sometimes powered only by a car battery. I remember the joy as we peeled back the bandage, the patient slowly opened their eyes, and we saw the look of joy on their face as they realised they could see.
(Except for one old gentleman who hadn’t seen for 20 years. Through all that time, he had been cared for by his devoted wife. When his bandage was taken off, and he saw his wife for the first time in 20 years, he asked out loud, ‘Who’s this ugly old woman?’ Oh dear. It’s a wonder she didn’t give him two black eyes.)
It’s so easy for us to see the fault in others. To look at them and wonder why they did this, why they didn’t do that, and how could they?!
Too often, though, we fail to consider what might lie behind other people’s actions and the stories that have led them to do things we are quick to judge.
And how often do we fail to turn that mirror back on ourselves, to see how what we do may be hurting others?
There is an amazing liberation in having your sight restored. To see the world in all its true beauty. It’s not so lovely when you look at yourself, warts and all.
Yet, while that’s what God sees in looking at us – all the bits we try to hide away, cover up, ignore, defend and justify – somehow, God sees beyond that and loves us anyway. He sees a beauty in us that maybe we don’t when we hold ourselves in judgement.
Knowing God does that for us encourages us to do the same for others, no matter how tough that can sometimes be.
Let’s never lose sight of that.
Father God, thank you for letting me see you in Jesus. Help me be the person who helps other people see you, too. Amen.
Jonathan describes himself as a ‘happy husband, proud dad and grandad, ALWS worker and ever-hopeful Magpie fan’.
Why? Oh, why?
by Jonathan Krause
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
But he said, ‘Why should my lord be so kind to me?’ (Genesis 33:15b)
Read Genesis 33:1–16
You likely have more Bible-smarts than me, so I’ll leave it to you to explore the backstory of today’s reading.
Just make sure you enjoy the wonderful story of forgiveness, reconciliation and healing. While it’s not exactly a classic ‘happy ending’, it’s still encouraging to see the coming together that allows two brothers to carry on with their own individual life journeys with a sense of peace. They can move forward.
The words that jumped out to me were Jacob asking, ‘Why should my lord be so kind to me?’
Do you ever find yourself asking the same question? But about God’s love for you?
For me, I look at myself and see all my flaws and all the times I have fallen short, done wrong, messed up and think: How could God possibly ‘be so kind to me’? How could I be in any way worthy of forgiveness, acceptance and love?
That’s such a ‘human’ thing to feel. You and I are used to having to earn what we receive, to pay a price for what we get. In fact, if you’re anything like me, you’re wary of anything that looks too good to be true. Because usually it is.
Yet again, I find myself trying to shrink God down to fit the limited scope of my human understanding. And experience.
Surely no one could love me that much.
How do you and I get past this?
When you look at Jacob, he approached Esau warily. Nervously. Uncertain of what would happen. (I counted at least six acts of humility in just these few verses.)
That’s what I feel I should do when I approach God seeking forgiveness.
Head bowed. Down to the ground. Afraid to look up.
Yet if I only ever look down, I miss seeing the smiling face of forgiveness. The love that overflows in joy.
For Jacob and Esau, it was tears, embrace, kisses – intimate physical expressions of love, prepared to let go of the past and to move forward. What is it for you and me?
That’s the challenge I take away from today’s reading, and why I pray that you might feel, in a special way today, God’s answer to the question we ask of him, ‘Why should my Lord be so kind to me?’
Lord, I come to you in wonder that you could love me, forgive me and welcome me with hugs and kisses. Help me reflect that joy to each person you place before me in the hours that remain today. Amen.
Jonathan describes himself as a ‘happy husband, proud dad and grandad, ALWS worker and gracious Magpie fan’.