the Psammead

Apologies for the almost 2 years of inactivity. What can I say? E. Nesbit’s Psammead used to disappear for thousands and thousands of years. Perhaps if my blog were called The Cockroach…

A lot has happened in the last 2 years. Perhaps the most significant (okay, the most significant) change that has taken place in my life is my relatively young relationship with J. Don’t worry - I’m not going to start filling my blog with accounts of how we met, and where we went for dinner, or the sweet words we exchange with each other. I only brought J up because he’s worth mentioning, and because our relationship has increasingly revealed some things about myself that I need to work on in order to love J (and everyone else) better. It’s the people you love who bring out your true colours.

I’ve found that I lack grace. The other night, I found myself picking on something J said - and he was innocent, I see that now - and blowing a small thing way out of proportion. I refused to back down, and I refused to admit that I was in any way wrong. After my emotions cooled down, I saw that not once during the conversation had I stopped to think about what J was feeling, and how he saw things. I mounted my high horse and waved my righteous banner with the immediate assumption that J had wronged me; that J had been the ‘sinner’. And all the time poor J was trying to be patient with me and cutting me slack.

How selfish I am; how much grace I lack! Forgetting how much grace God has shown me, I show none to others. It isn’t just J I have treated so selfishly. It’s the scores of others I judge day by day - there are so many I’ve failed to love.

Dear God,

You know my every sin and failing. You see the self-centredness and pride. Help me, Lord, to remember Your grace, and to imitate it. Forgive me for scorning You.

Jenna

It’s time for another round of thanksgiving. That’s the wonderful thing about being God’s child - you never run out of things to thank Him for. (heart shape here)

Dear God,

Thank You for, first of all, Your faithfulness and love. Out of all the people in the world, no one could ever love me as much as You do, and I know You’ll never stop.

I saw pictures of all the planets and constellations and galaxies out there, and how in comparison Earth was entirely insignificant. I praise You God for creating such awesome things and making space so beautiful - and for loving us though we are so small we’re invisible in those pictures.

Thank You for blessing the 30 Hour Famine project - for permission from the administration, for support from the student council, for the commitee who have agreed to work for this, for support from other clubs, for sponsorship - for all this, Lord, I thank You.

Thank You for my family, for my parents who are Your examples for me here on earth. Thank You for my brother, whom I can follow in everything and whom I know loves me very much. Thank You for my sister - someone I can look up to. And for my cousin too.

And for my friends, God - You’ve really given me more than I can ask for or imagine. When I look around university, when I scroll through my phonebook, I can’t believe just how many good friends You’ve blessed me with. Thank You God.

Let me never forget how much You love me, and how much You’ve given me.

And for Your Son, Jesus Christ, Lord, let me be forever grateful.

Amen.

I don’t remember reading about Christian reaching a place that kept him too busy to continue his pilgrim’s progress. You had Apollyon fighting with him in the valley of the shadow of death, you had the Arbor where Christian fell asleep and left his scroll, you had the lions he had to get by to get into the Interpreter’s house. I think maybe somewhere on the road, Christian (or Christiana) might’ve come across a really dirty part of the narrow way, and stopped to clean it up.

Or maybe this happened to some pilgrims at the beginning, when, coming across the Slough of Despond, they decided to stop and throw stones in it to help those who might pass there. It would’ve been a very busy job. A full time one which would require all of their strength and concentration.

I’m at such a place right now. I’ve been rushing around doing things, and filling up my time with lots of activities (most of them church-related), and all the while I think I’ve forgotten to get on with the progress. While Christian’s been fighting battles and advancing down the narrow way, I’ve been stopping to sweep little piles of dust to the side of the road.

And it sucks! It really does! I’m tired, I’m distracted, and my conscience is weighed down with the sins I committed because I wasn’t guarding against them. My relationship with God is suffering, and I can feel it.

Dear God, please help me to pause. Please make me a Mary. I know You could’ve provided the food if Martha has stopped cooking and come to listen to You. I’m sorry for not trusting You with all my duties; I’m sorry for not talking to You and listening to you…and for not resting in You.

I really want to take a break, and I’m glad You want me to too.

The service ended. Jared slid quietly out of his seat and made his way down the aisle, avoiding the ushers who looked ready to extend friendliness to him. He stepped out of the church and into the fresh air. The sky was overcast, with grey clouds threatening to dissolve into torrents of rain at any moment. The breeze carried with it the scent of wet leaves and puddles.

Jared felt melancholy. At least, he felt the urge to be. Shaking off the thoughts of church that bickered with each other in the space of his head, he took off in a slow jog in the direction of the park. The pavement crunched beneath his feet.

Strange how the sound of his shoes hitting the gravel only served to accentuate the very silence of the afternoon. Far-off sounds of car engines starting and people chatting in the distance made Jared feel like he was in a cone of silence. It made him feel lonely.

There was only one family at the park that day. He had seen them there before. There was the small girl who reminded him of Megan. Today she was busy playing with a young Golden Retriever. Her parents sat on a bench a space away, offering encouragement: “Throw the stick a bit further! Oh wow, well done!” The small girl -she must have only been about six- laughed and clapped her hands, and kissed and hugged the small dog.

That that sort of family still existed…it was a surprise.  Just wait till she’s 15, thought Jared. Then he felt ashamed for his cynicism, as if he had just wished a broken family unto the little girl. Then he thought, well, that’s life. The people that should have loved you best loved you the worst, they just forgot they had to or went about it the wrong way or they just gave up on you and left.

A drop of water fell onto the back of his hand. Soon the rain was falling heavily. The family ran to a black CV nearby. Jared got up and slowly walked home.

The worship leader had just taken the stage. Acoustic guitar in hand, he strummed a few chords while reading from Psalm 100. Jared quietly slid into one of the back rows, ignoring the gestures of the usher. He stared at the words on the projector. A familiar song, this one. It was a song he used to sing back when he was in the youth. A different church, a different time.

Mouthing the words automatically, Jared let his mind wander, the smell of the air-conditioning that all churches seem to have bringing old memories to the surface. The lady next to him sang shrilly, hands raised in worship. In front of him two teenagers texted discreetly. An old man snored in the corner.

Jared brought his attention back to the screen. I’m coming back to the heart of worship, and it’s all about You, it’s all about You, Jesus. He rolled the words around in his mouth, trying to imagine what it would be like to mean it. The lost exuberance of his former youth scrabbled right below the surface of his emotions, just beyond his reach. He gave up.

The offering bag was being passed around. He scrunched up a few notes in his hand, and dropped them in. Announcements. The number of camps and workshops and seminars exhausted him. Where did these people get the strength? What was the point, anyway? Did any of it really even matter?

Maybe, Jared reflected, it did. At least they had things to do, a goal to reach. Something to feel good about. Jared was once like them. He even organised an icebreaker once, for a youth service. It was back when he was in love with Christianity. A Planet Shaker.

A young preacher got up on the podium. With his laptop in front of him, the preacher expertly told a funny story, and gave an outline of his sermon. It was about ‘Eagle’s Wings’. Wasn’t that a song?

God led the Israelites out of Egypt, and brought them to Himself on eagle’s wings. It’s like you and I. You know, once we were like the chicks in the nest, comfortable staying in our own Egypts, our own comfort zones of television shows, and good cars, and small families. We thought it was all there is to life, and we liked it. But God, you know, well, He has something better for us (Amen) and He pushes us out of our comfort zones, our nests, just like the mother eagle. And when we fall, He catches us and carries us on eagle’s wings.That’s God for you, He…

The preacher continued. Jared thought about the eagle. He didn’t think he was in a comfort zone. He wasn’t unhappy either. He was just…in limbo. Did God exist? He wasn’t sure. Sometimes, on rainy days, Jared felt that God must be out there somewhere. But most days he didn’t think about it at all. Megan believed all the time, and she always made Jared say grace. He did it to make her happy. Having something to believe in, even if it might not be true, was better than believing in nothing at all.