Alone?

I'm used to being alone. Most of the time it's just me and my four children. Five days a week from 8 till 5.30 my husband is at work, so I'm very accustomed to the four walls, four children and little else, but I'm okay with that, after 14 years, it's normal! So, could I possibly feel any lonelier? Yes.

I'm the sort of person that will avoid going to the Dr's, I virtually have to be dragged there. I am very frightened of hospitals, and go to pieces when it comes to blood, operations and the like. I've been grateful that I've only been in hospital four times in my entire life. But each time was for the birth of my children, and obviously I wasn't ill! However, all four were born by Cesarean (which being major abdominal surgery means it is rather traumatic!) but God says children are a gift from Him, a blessing (oh there are plenty of obnoxious children around, but I put that down to obnoxious parents!) so although I was having major surgery each time, at the end of it I was getting something wonderful, a treasure.

In stark contrast, after spending a nightmarish few hours in the accident and emergency department of our local hospital, to be then wheeled down dark, eery corridors, suffering from abdominal pain and not knowing why and then hearing talk of a possible operation to remove my appendix, well unsurprisingly my fear began to increase as the uncertainty of what was going to happen and what was wrong with me became apparent.

Suddenly I felt utterly alone. But as my panic grew, thoughts seeped into my mind.

God has been down this spooky looking corridor ahead of you.

He's seen the beginning of your life all the way through to the end, He knew this day was coming.

He already knows what's causing the pain, infact He has allowed it

He's with you, He's not deserted you and never will.

Don't fret, you're loved and not alone.

And so the choice was obvious, do I look only at what my eyes can see, or do I trust Him Who sees all things, knows all things, and loves me with a love that I can scarcely comprehend.

For me all turned out well, tests and scans were clear, and everything was normal, no answer to what was causing the pain was found and eventually I was allowed to go home. But that doesn't always happen, things can and do turn horrible for people. Death at some point comes to us all.

Could I still say God is good if I were still in the hospital right now, perhaps seriously ill, on the brink of death. Can I only be 'happy' because it all turned out okay, so 'praise the lord'? No. God really does see all, and we see so little with our human eyes. If I can trust Him for my life after my death, surely I can trust Him with my life now. Both take a leap of faith, complete abandon to Him, and a child-like trust that He knows what He's doing.

But that's what walking with Him is about surely. This faith that we profess to have in God, must be tested, must be moved from simply head knowledge, so that you are almost stepping out on what looks like thin air. For when you do step of a cliff edge, in what looks to other like a wild, foolish faith, and find your feet on a solid ground, you end up coming out the other side of a trial with your heart more knitted to His. He doesn't come closer to you, He's already one with you, but your 'trust' gets stronger, and that's all he really wants - all he requires is that we believe Him.

I'm 'alone' again today - just me and the children and God. One day it will be even less than that. At the minute we can all say - it's me and my 'ministry', me and my 'gift', me and my 'knowledge', me and 'what Ive sacrificed', me and 'what I do for the lord''. Me and, me and, me and...oh it's nauseating. Mercifully when we see Him face to face all that fluff that we use to gain our identity, our worth from, will be gone, I don't believe He's as interested in those things as we assume - what we can do or give up for Him. He's interested in us, as His dear children, just like I am interested in my children because they are mine, not what they can do for me.

One day it won't be me and my 'crutches' that give me worth and make me feel pleasing in His sight. It will just be me and Him. And actually I have that right now, whether I'm in a crowded room, or if it's just me and my children, or sitting somewhere in a cold, hospital corridor, ultimately it's just me and Him.

A dear lady shared the following verse on facebook earlier in the week, it echoed so clearly the thoughts that God so obviously placed in my mind whilst in hospital, I smiled and wept a little at the comforting words. Looking at this verse through the lens of the cross, we actually have it far better than those Israelites did when they heard those words. The truth is greater, more astounding for us, this side of the cross. God is not some entity that floats around in front of me, a pillar of fire by day, a cloud by night. He's not just a friend at my side, or even a book on a shelf. He is not just with me, He is one with me (1 Cor. 6:17), I am never, ever alone.

The LORD is the one who goes ahead of you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. Deuteronomy 31:8

Two Worlds

Ah, Two Worlds, it sounds like a book title doesn't it? One day I shall write the story to it!

What I really came to write about here though is the fact that of late my mind is full of thoughts. They run around my brain like happy children, giggling with delight that I can't quite catch them and make them sit still. Nonetheless, two of these rascals I have managed to catch, or perhaps they caught me? Today I shall talk of one of them, this child's name is Two Worlds.

I stumbled across some thoughts by a respected musician recently regarding reality that made me scrunch my nose up and frown. His thoughts sounded a bit weird, and as much as I like a good fantasy story, his thoughts on reality and what it is, seemed to step out of the clearly defined realm of fantasy and into my kitchen.

What is reality? Well, this is reality isn't it. Sitting here, tapping away at this laptop whilst my husband plays his new Halo game. A freshly lit candle dancing as prettily as she dare on the cupboard and a cup of tea sitting on my bookshelf, that's reality isn't it. My surroundings right now are reality, what I can touch, see and hear.

And yet, the greatest reality is beyond all those senses, for now at least. For, I can neither see Him, touch Him or hear Him. Yes, he speaks through His Word and declares Himself Maker of all things unashamedly through His creation, and yet to mankind in general He is not reality, He is not real to them.

The life that comes after death, and the habitation therein, well it's not somewhere I can google, I can't find it on a map, there are no buses to Heaven, but that place is real. This creates some interesting thinking, it almost hurts my brain the same way imagining how far space goes if you just keep travelling does. For everything that is real to me now, tangible and touchable will one day turn to dust, be broken or be snuffed out like my dancing candle. Every single thing that my senses are aware of will vanish and be no more. The only piece of reality that I know of right now that will endure and last forever is my spirit, my soul and I can't see that, or touch it and for all intents and purposes, it is as invisible to my unbelieving friends and family as their Creator is. Yes, you can look at my face, but you can't see my spirit.

To return to the thoughts that got me thinking along this line in the first place, the author said this about one of his songs regarding reality, "The song is about what is real and not real. What is permanent and what is not. How we really have two worlds – the one we live in that will end someday and the kingdom of heaven that will never end. “Reality is only an illusion of solidity and permanence. The hidden eternal world, which we think of as illusory and unreal is in fact the only solid ground.”

I have been mulling over these thoughts for several weeks now and still find them quite fascinating. The song in question is a reminder to not trust what we see. And isn't that what a walk of faith is, not trusting what you see to be a dire situation, not trusting that the future looks dim, not trusting the thoughts that say you're a lousy Christian, but believing you are a new creation because of Him and Him alone, not what you do, and finally trusting the Unseen, Who knows all things and works all things together for good to those who believe in Him.

I love how this musician writes 'The hidden eternal world is the only solid ground'. I know it sounds quite bizarre, especially if you're not a Believer and sometimes even if you are! But, upon death, everything stays put, nothing leaves this earth, nothing will join me, not even the fingers on this body that I'm using to type with right now. Only the unseen, my soul, my spirit. Only what is unseen down here will last forever, only the unseen is of infinite value, and only the hidden eternal world is solid ground. The time for faith is now, don't trust what you see, for there really are Two Worlds.

(This post is actually taken from the 24th September, 2010. How interesting it is to read my thoughts from twelve months ago, the road, indeed, goes ever on and on. Oh how we change and grow, the journey truly never ends - let us go further up and further in)

Walk By Rules?

I shall add to this list of quotes as time goes on. I need a constant reminder that it is not by rules I live, but by faith - faith in the living God - that He is quite able to live in me, guide me and be all that I need.

I cannot bear the thought of returning to that dark, dusty room, where shackles were my only companion.

The liberating secret is truly liberating. If God Himself walks in the garden then there is no way I'm going back inside that house, nay prison.


An individual Christian may see fit to give up all sorts of things for special reasons – marriage, or meat, or beer, or cinema; but the moment he starts saying the things are bad in themselves, or looking down his nose at other people who do use them, he has taken the wrong turning. C.S. Lewis



Legalism is the improper emphasis on works in our relationship to God. It focuses on the manifestations of spirituality that can be measured by number, frequency, duration, amount, and so forth. No one has the authority to force upon themselves or anyone else external measurements of spirituality that have no scriptural basis. Don Whitney


Outward acts of…piety which do not flow from the new and God-given affections of the heart, which delight to depend on God and seek his glory are only legalism and have no value in honoring God. John Piper

Make no laws upon the saints where Christ hath not made any. Walter Cradock

I’m baffled continually at how easily Christian people treat as moral law those things that God has neither forbidden nor required. Some feel an irresistible urge to speak loudly whenever the Bible is silent. They find the ethical stipulations of Scripture inadequate for living the Christian life and feel compelled to supplement the Word of God with countless little do’s and dont’s that they are persuaded are essential to winning God’s favor and blessing. Sam Storms

Legalism itself comes in two forms. On the one hand are those legalists who insist on obedience to the law, especially their law, as a condition for acceptance with God. To be saved one must submit to rules and regulations, sometimes biblical ones, sometimes not. But at the heart of this variety of legalism is the idea that works are a condition for justification… The other kind of legalist may well affirm salvation by grace through faith, but demands that others submit to his image of what constitutes true spirituality. Invariably he or she sets extra-biblical guidelines, identifies morally proscribed activities, and then severely judges those who fail to measure up. Sam Storms

Let us not be deceived by outward appearances. Satan “disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Cor. 11:14). He keeps his deadliest diseases most sanitary. He clothes his captains in religious garments and houses his weapons in temples. Legalism is a more dangerous disease than alcoholism because it doesn't look like one. Alcoholism makes men fail; legalism helps them succeed in the world. Alcoholism makes men depend on the bottle; legalism makes them self-sufficient, depending on no one. Alcoholism destroys moral resolve; legalism gives it strength. Alcoholics don't feel welcome in the church; legalists love to hear their morality extolled in church. John Piper

One of the most serious problems facing the orthodox Christian church today is the problem of legalism. One of the most serious problems facing the church in Paul's day was the problem of legalism. In every day it is the same. Legalism wrenches the joy of the Lord from the Christian believer, and with the joy of the Lord goes His power for vital worship and vibrant service. Nothing is left but cramped, somber, dull, and listless profession. The truth is betrayed, and the glorious name of the Lord becomes a synonym for a gloomy kill-joy. The Christian under the law is a miserable parody of the real thing. S. Lewis Johnson

God saves us from the reductionism of such legalism which enshrines spirituality as a series of wooden laws and then says, “If you can do these six, sixteen or sixty-six things, you will godly.” Christianity, godliness, is far more than a checklist. Being “in Christ” is a relationship. Kent Hughes


Legalism insists on conformity to manmade religious rules and requirements, which are often unspoken but are nevertheless very real… There are far too many instances within Christendom where our traditions and rules are, in practice, more important than God’s commands.



(We insist that God) must surely lead everyone as we believe He has led us. We refuse to allow God the freedom to deal with each of us as individuals. When we think like that, we are legalistic.


Jerry Bridges

Two Months

I've got that bubbling feeling. It's been two months since I last posted a proper blog post - two months, ah that was an eternity when I was a little girl, but now months fly by and so instead of being in the clutches of Winter, the gentle arms of Spring embrace me. And so perhaps like the seeds that have sat so quiet in the earth and are now being drawn out of the ground by the warmth of Spring's touch, so the seed in my heart has grown and is ready to bloom. The bubbling feeling, I'm not sure that's a good description, but alas it's all my tired brain can think of right now, for my heart is full - ready to overflow and bubble up and be formed into words.

Block Heads

My Ron Block appreciation hat (I'm still working on the beard) Ha!

Horatius Bonar

"Why is there so much speaking, yet so little prayer? Why is there so much running to and fro, yet so little prayer? Why so much bustle and business, yet so little prayer? Why so many meetings with our fellow men, yet so few meetings with God?

Why so little being alone, so little thirsting of the soul for the calm, sweet hours of unbroken solitude, when God and His child hold fellowship together as if they could never part? It is the lack of these solitary hours that not only injures our own growth in grace, but makes us such unprofitable members of the church of Christ, and that renders our lives useless.

In order to grow in grace, we must be much alone with God. It is not in society, even Christian society that the soul grows most rapidly and vigorously. In one single quiet hour of prayer it will often make more progress than in whole days of company with others.

It is in the 'desert' that the dew falls freshest and the air is purest. So with the soul. It is when none but God is near; when His presence alone, like the desert air in which there is mingled no noxious breath of man, surrounds and pervades the soul; it is then that the eye gets the clearest, simplest view of eternal certainties; it is then that the soul gathers in wondrous refreshment and power and energy.

Nearness to God, fellowship with God, waiting upon God, resting in God, have been too little the characteristic either of our private or our ministerial walk. Hence our example has been so powerless, our labors so unsuccessful, our sermons so meager, our whole ministry so fruitless and feeble."


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I read the above in my Celtic Daily Prayer book (Prayers and Readings from the Northumbria Community). The book is an unusual one and I'm still trying to figure out if I like it or not, but I do like the snippets of stories, songs and quotations. I was surprised when I read the above because all I knew of Horatius Bonar was that he wrote some hymns, but he actually did a little more than just write songs for 'fun'.


The section in my 'devotional' book was taken from a much larger portion of his work entitled, Words to Winners of Souls - though another source calls it Ministerial Confessions http://www.gracegems.org/SERMONS/Ministerial%20Confessions.htm I haven't read the rest of it, but this small portion spoke to me so much about relationship, a real relationship with a real person, not a formula - a step by step procedure, but a relationship (like marriage) that takes time.



The term 'First Love' springs to mind, those first months when all you can think about is your future husband/wife. But when you fast forward 20 years, if you are not careful you can end up like two parallel lines, the relationship keeps going, the contract isn't broken, but the relationship isn't what it was - we've lost our first love.


Yes we do our side of the deal, I wash your clothes, you take the bin out, or in the case of our relationship with God, we can end up just doing what we feel our duties are - I go to church and read my Bible and God died for my sins and will take me to Heaven. But, that's not a relationship - there is so much more to knowing someone and loving someone than doing your duty. Oh, how it must grieve Him when we get busy 'ticking all the right boxes' when all He wants is for us to stop and spend time with Him.


But, like marriage, a relationship with God needs to be nurtured and you can only do that by spending time together and prayer does that - oh how hurried and fickle my conversation with God can be. I hear in Bonar's words the question of whether I've lost my first Love.

What Have I Done?

I can barely see as I sit here typing. I have a ghastly cold. The sort of cold that leaves your eyes sore, your nose sore, your throat sore, in fact everything sore or aching, so it is more likely the flu-bug I've picked up from somewhere.

But, for all of the negatives of being ill, there is one positive. The fluff gets blown away. During the fitful hours of wakefulness, the unimportant, the menial and downright silly evaporate.

An illness makes you focus on all that really matters whilst the petty things slip gracefully off one's shoulders, the true weight of their importance is made known, they are composed of the lightest feathers. Much like snowflakes, each one delicately placed one on top of the other can prove a match for anyone wishing to shovel their driveway. But, once a scorching sun unleashes its rays, those flakes melt away.

And so, as I often do, I stood one morning at the kitchen sink, hands busy washing breakfast dishes, but with a mind far away, deep in thought. Eyes wide, looking up into the vast sky that stretches out before me. I notice the Mistle Thrush sitting proudly on a branch of my Mountain Ash tree, a regular who comes several times a day to feed on the berries of that faithful tree. From the corner of my eye I see the swoop and swing of the seagulls, who to me look so out of place in a little town like mine. Amidst the activity before my eyes and the snuffles and thrum of my aching head, I sigh, a sigh which to the trained ear speaks of something deeper than just the weariness of being ill.

Now with all those trivial worries out of my head, like 'How am I going to get all that ironing done?', 'Will my youngest son ever really learn to read fluently?', and the vain thoughts of 'Where can I find a new (cheap) elegant neck scarf from?', to the selfish, 'Everyone seems to have time to please themselves, all I want is more time to read my books'. Yes, now all of that chaff has been blown away, the clutter has been swept off the desk of my mind with one huge gust of wind during the feverish moments of the flu and the most important things remain.

The desk of my mind. Of course my desk is made of solid wood, of the very best kind, with ornately carved legs, and a strong, sturdy top. But it is old, oh very old, an antique, and of course it has all the buffs and scratches one would expect, and yet even they add to the beauty. There are drawers of various sizes, all to be opened using sumptuous, weighty handles, some of which are worn with use. Now that the clutter of what looked like a busy life has been removed from the top, only a few things remain for all to see. The desk top is what everyone we meet first sees, and it is rare we get past that with most people. So eager are we to look like we've got it all together, it seems safe to stay there, on surface level.

And so we keep the top of our desk fairly clean and tidy, or if not tidy, we like to look like we're busy, as if we're doing something productive and useful, the 'useful' part almost always needs to look distinctly 'Christian'. And certainly the illusion must be maintained that we have our ducks in a row. A family portrait lovingly placed in prime position, an assortment of fountain pens and markers, a neat pile of books, perhaps a few nick-knacks to pretty it up. A relationship that stays at this level is tiresome, never getting passed the, 'How are you?, 'I'm fine', type of conversation. Or if you do, the chittering is always in Christianese.

The drawers, ah the contents of the drawers are often more intriguing, filled with the usual filing systems, keepsakes, photographs - memories. Private things, known to but a few, the good the bad, it's all in there. Friendship at this level is often most enriching. This is real, full of nitty-gritty wholesome conversation, a tangible meal of thoughts and ideas, but to get there, one must open up. That can be painful. To be real with people presents so many dangers and possible misunderstandings, and it must be done so very wisely. But, to the seasoned soul who has guts to do it, and if the one they offer themselves to is also wise enough to accept the open heart presented to them, a deep and nourishing friendship will be enjoyed by both.

And of course there is a Secret Drawer. You can't have an antique desk and not have a Secret Drawer! There is normally only One who gets the privilege of seeing the contents of this particular Drawer. Hidden deep within the desk, perhaps access can only be obtained by a secret code or a silver key. And being a Secret Drawer it contains a box, and then a box within a box, each one lined with velvet, each becoming more secret and more treasured the further you proceed.

But, what is quite odd is that the deepest of boxes looks the most used, in fact it repulses me to see it laid bare, now that the 'fluff' is gone and there is very little left on my desk. The sickly paleness of the boxes only I know of cause me to blush a thousand times over. The drawer within a drawer, a box within a box, each locked with a silver key. A secret silver key. I alone have the key and know of the contents. But there is One who sees all, and has no need for such earthy objects as keys.

I must mention that my desk has a chair, overstuffed and delightfully comfy, but once I open that Secret Drawer and turn that precious key, my chair vanishes, all vanishes, even He that sees all disapears, I stand in blackness with nought but my secret. Everything is forgotten.

"What have I done?".

I quickly return to my desk top and scan its outward form. Am I trying hard enough? Do I press on and deny myself? Have I really untangled myself from this world and all that would stop me running with fervour? Am I nothing more than a weak, selfish soul, who just wants an easy life? Does my life line up to the standard, have I given my best, my all? Is there enough evidence to prove I am a Christian?

"What have I done?".

I can't write about the desk of my mind as a Tolkien fan and it not be a magical desk. Did I say everything vanishes and all is forgotten? God is still there even when I deliberately 'forget' Him. In the blackness He stands beside me and scans the meager display of items on top of my desk, then I wince as He reaches for my secret drawer.

I gasp, 'Oh, what have I done!?'.

His loving eyes swaddle me as He asks in return, 'But, what have I done?'.

I hear the clink of my last secret drawer open, my stomach wrenches, but behold, how could I have not noticed before, there is one more box inside. A Golden Box, sparkling like the sun, glistening like diamonds, He opens it and the light fairly blinds me, the whole room is Alight and all my secret boxes disappear.

Turning to my desk top, the 'Good Christian' life that stares up at me now makes my stomach heave, for the Light also shows their true identity. Dirty rags have replaced all that was there, I turn away in horror.

"What have I done?"

Again, He returns the question, 'But, what have I done?".

I understand, once more, He has done it all.

"Salvation is so much more than a change of destination from hell to heaven! The true spiritual content of our gospel is not just heaven one day, but Christ here and now" Major W. Ian Thomas.

"Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him" Romans 6:8

I breathe in, and the Mistle Thrush pecks off two more berries and flies home.




Bilbo's Desk photograph - http://community.thehobbitsite.com/Photo/Bag-End-Bilbos-desk/00FF6FFFF00F27D4B0007001EC415