Next to Godliness

Confession time. I am a bit of a slob. I think it shows. Those who have never met me will have to take my word for it, but why would a man claim to be that, when he is not?

 I am.

I think my slobiness shows in a number of areas. It shows in my comatose attitude to order, organisation and tidiness. It shows in my relaxed response to domestic hygiene. It also shows in my largely indifferent approach to personal appearance.

This is not the first time I have come to this conclusion, nor will it be the last. I seem destined to retread this ground a little (hopefully in ever decreasing circles), as these things will possibly never become completely like a second nature to me.
My housemate asked me to do some long overdue cleaning this week, in preparation for her friends immanent arrival at the weekend. I was a little stubborn and, I daresay, reluctant to perform such a task (partly because I wrongly felt that it was mainly about creating a good impression). But as I performed this task I started to reflect again on the old adage 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness'.

I don't want to overstate the case but, in the past, I have viewed all of those things as largely superficial. I have had disdain for them and, to an extent, those who I felt prioritised those things above the more important aspects of our life on earth. Relationships, spirituality, hospitality, charity, love.

I like the parable of the upwardly mobile farmer who builds the bigger barn  but dies before he can fill it. The premise Jesus is illustrating is that it is infinitely better to concentrate on storing your treasure in heaven, where moth and rust cannot steal it away. I feel this is, in part a rebuke to the materialist who seeks only to improve their standing in this life but ignores the one to come.

And so for the longest time, I have deemed these outward appearances to be of little, and certainly temporal, consequence.

'Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart'

 

I would take this verse to lend support to my view. A view that still has some merit, in my opinion.

'Cleanliness is next to Godliness' is something I heard a lot in my childhood. To the extent that I think, at one point, I believed it came from the bible. I think I came to regard this saying, later, as hokum. What had a clean face to do with the state of your heart before God? True cleanliness is a spiritual issue, surely?

What I neglected to understand, however, is that these two sayings contain something deeper, something which is not so comforting as my slovenly heart would have cared to believe.

Firstly 'Man' does look to the outward appearance, but it is not, necessarily a comfort that he (God)looks on the heart instead. What is the state of the heart that takes no heed to its appearance?

I understand that the verse is primarily talking about stature, under substance|(and how God does not chose according to our criteria) but the inverse is true also.

You see the heart determines our actions (Out of the overflow of the heart, so speaks the mouth). So to be neglectful of what God has given you must show the state of a heart in disrepair or wilful rebellion. The problem is that I do not expect rebellion to look so, well, passive. But a stubbornness to be active is as good as a two fingered salute to God.

I think we need to reflect on Jesus most excellent condensation of the commandments to get a better idea of why these things are so important. He told us to love God with all our hearts and our neighbour as ourselves. Within this commandment is a third, well acknowledged aspect which seems to have been historically neglected; the command to love ourselves. But this trinitarian approach to the outworking of love shows Gods holistic nature. He wants love and respect to run through it all, like a stick of rock. If I care about my spirit/soul then I care about my body, I care about my possessions. They are not to own me but I am to own them, all be it lightly.

So to take an attitude of not caring about my affairs or appearance is to primarily reject Gods love. It is to devalue the worth that he has bestowed on humanity, when he came to restore his marred image in the hearts and lives of his children.

He wants us to take responsibility, He wants ME to take responsibility. Why else would confession and repentance be such a necessary part of the process of salvation. He wants us to own it. Cleanliness IS next to Godliness, in as much as it is part of a nurturing, stewarding and fostering of what he has given us.

That is not to say that we cannot still rail against the type of image crafting through posturing and preening and bragging in our appearance and possessions and the cleanliness of our houses. Those who seek those things have had their reward. People pleasing for the sake of our vanity is still as sinful as it ever was but I have come to see that there is more to this issue than my ironically shallow views had held. I even Judged people for their appearance of judging people (on their appearance) and thought THEM shallow??

This is not to say that you have to look conventional, or that our homes need to resemble some kind of showroom standard. There can still be such a thing as holy chaos (and grace is still the messiest factor in our salvation). It is simply that to excuse yourself from the responsibility of it, because it is unimportant, probably means that you have missed the point. It is nether all important nor unimportant. There is no unimportant aspect to the life of a child of God. His counting of sparrows and hairs should have at least taught us this.

Doing good does us good

I wanted to get something down before the moment fades. I have found a certain phenomena in the practice of doing little acts of kindness. That there is nothing quite like breaking out of my bubble of self interest, to raise my spirits and connect me with my sense of humanity. There's no tonic like it.

So today in the car park (parking lot) I was in a little bit of a hurry. There was no need for me to be in a hurry but sometimes (always) this is just my default setting. I have often found myself, after getting home from a hectic journey, where I have overtaken slower drivers, after near tailgating them for miles, cutting in front of people, passing traffic lights on a very late amber, to be sitting at home, staring at the wall, for all of the ten minutes I have saved (if that), just unwinding from the stress of being so impatient. What I am trying to convey is that I often rush for no real reason, and that it what was happening in this car park.

 There is a system in our town whereby you get 2 hours free parking but you must get a ticket to display, so they can monitor how long you've been there. On walking  across the car park to the ticket machine I noticed there was a lady on her way to the same destination. I could paint for you a kind of spaghetti western type scenario where there is a close up of our eyes and a whiplash camera effect back to the machine and then back to our narrowing eyes (and mean expressions) before we break out into a run to be there first. The reality was a lot more sedate than that. But I knew she knew. I knew she was thinking what I was thinking and I quickened my pace. I am British after all, and a run would be so undignified. Besides, I didn't want it to be that obvious that I was trying to beat her. I just wanted to make sure that I actually did, in a non-confrontational manner. I was slightly ahead of her anyway and the natural advantage was mine. If she wanted to get there first she was going to have to be the one to break decorum.

Sure enough, I arrived first and pushed the button just before she drew level with me. To write about this incident is to blow it out of all proportion. It is something that I would usually give hardly any thought to. But, in the few seconds it took for the ticket to print, I had a moment of sanity. I thought, 'I am not in a rush, really, am I?' And, as I resolutely refused to make eye contact, for the embarrassment that any acknowledgement of my selfishness would bring, I decided to give her the ticket that was printing out.

I have no idea what this lady was thinking, but I imagined that, to her, I looked like the sort of heartless self serving queue jumper that would do whatever was necessary to ensure my own needs were met. I think that I might look quite sullen, a little aggressive and maybe a little rough around the edges. But when I plucked the ticket from the machine and simply handed it to her without a word, with just a little hint of a smile, her face lit up and she was disproportionately grateful for the few extra seconds I had just given her.

But the real kindness I had done, was to myself. Because, and this is the phenomena that I have found on other similar occasions, as I walked away, with my own ticket in hand, I began to well up a little. I felt genuinely warm inside, like the ice surface had just cracked and the warm caring emotional human being that had been trapped beneath it was able to breath again. And he was saying to me, 'where the hell have you been?? didn't you realise we were asphyxiating beneath all that self interest?!'

On so many occasions like this, a simple act of kindness has reconnected me to this sense of humanity that I had all but forgotten. For some reason, call it God, if you will, I am so touched by the good that I can do, if I choose to, that it makes me feel alive again.

As I walked through town I began seeing people properly again. I felt acutely aware of our shared vulnerability and our need to be understood and helped. That, beneath the prickly veneer, we are all in need of love, however it manifests itself. The warm feeling is still with me now, an hour or two afterwards.

And just when I sat down to write this, I remembered the bible gateway bible verse (that I get sent daily by email)  from just yesterday;

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

Philippians 2:3-4

And I remember that when driving, how nice it is, when other people let me out of a junction, or give way and I remember how I feel when I do those things for others. I know I am not going to change the world by improving my habits but I can make it a better place, even if momentarily, for those I help. And in doing so I am doing my own soul some good too. And it is almost effortless to do so.

 The problem I find is that in the same journey I may let some one out and  then cut someone else up. The difference between these opposite actions comes down to one thing, and one thing only. It depends on what I chose to do. If there is going to be any consistency I need to rewire my neural pathways by repeatedly looking to the interests of others and that takes grace, yes, and Gods help, but it also requires my making a choice. I hope to remember this. No, I choose to remember it.

Supply lines

I am writing today to talk to you about some thing that is of the utmost spiritual importance. FOOD.
If you will, please add this to my spiritual warfare collection. Yes. That is correct. Food is an issue of spiritual warfare.

Some of the most effective battle strategies through history have been to do with food. It's a well known saying that an army marches on its stomach and for a good reason. Without food all the weapons you can wield are useless. Its for this reason that master military strategists such as Napoleon have used scorched earth policies. The practise of burning all the crops behind them as they advanced. Other effective strategies have been to disrupt and target enemy supply lines, the routes and means of supplying your troops as they fight. Few armies have been able to take enough with them to be able to progress fast enough or to sustain them long enough. Thus looting has long been a practise of various military campaigns.

So why would Satan, a masterful strategist, ignore so vital a part of his campaign against you? Will he come at you only with a direct attack, wielding his tongue like  a sword and showering you with fiery arrows of accusation? Or will he, perhaps, deploy the age old tactic of cutting you off from God's ordained supply lines? I think I know the answer to that. He wants you spiritually anaemic. He wants you weak. He wants you apathetic. He wants you so hungry you will even eat things that may harm you. I am of course speaking of spiritual food here!
So I would say that it is vital to know the supply lines that keep us strong for battle. I don't think I am going to surprise you here, but I want to tell you the things that I think Satan wants to cut you off from.

1. Prayer

Our growth and strength in God depend upon our feeding on Gods presence. If you stop praying you start dying inside. It's really that simple. Its all about the relationship. Satan will do anything he can to disrupt your prayer life. Among his tactics; discouragement, distractions, and disasters that break the flow of daily prayer. Things that are so big that they seem to require ALL your attention, but long after the crisis is over you have still not picked up the baton again. He makes that first molehill-step back to prayer look like a mountain, but it's not. Remember the prodigal story. The father is waiting with open arms to fall on you and embrace. Keep the lines of prayer open, no matter how crappy you feel. It is vital. You need it. Maybe now more than ever. I would include in this section, bible reading too, and all forms of personal devotion.

2. Fellowship.

Satan wants you to think you can go it alone. Especially, he will sometimes  exaggerate the importance of the prayer (Ironically) in order to get you to neglect this one. 'You only need God'  and 'Your personal prayer life is enough', he will say. He doesn't really want you to pray, but he loves to play the anti organised religion card. 'it's messy where other people and their egos are involved', he will say, and he's right. Sometimes it is. But it is vital food to you. God put the command, to love him first, into the context of loving your neighbour. This love is food to us. Both the giving and the receiving. The community of God cannot be neglected if we are to be spiritually sustained. If you walk away from the camp then you walk away from the camp kitchen too. Don't be deceived. We need input. We need the sharpening of clashing egos, of failure and restoration and we need encouragement, all in the context of the Father's love and grace. And, of course, in this context we receive a whole smorgasbord of foods; like corporate worship, instruction, accountability and service. These sustain us too.

3. Obedience.

I left this till last because it is the hardest. Jesus said that his meat was to do the will of the Father.
This is so hard. But if we are cut off from obedience by the thousands of excuses we make (and the devil suggests) we really cannot expect to be sustained as spiritual beings. Like all of these points I have made, I have personal experience of this. But of this more than any other. Every disobedient act weakens us, robs us of our sustenance, be it things we have done that we shouldn't have, or things we should have done, but havent. The fastest way to grow in strength and grace is to feed on doing Gods will. Accept no substitute. It was vital for Jesus, how much more so for us?
If we can identify where our food comes from, we can be much better equipped to defend the supply line. Only a fool would neglect to do so. You keep on fighting on the front line, but pay no attention to your supply, and you are going to do the enemies work for him...and starve yourself out. And that would be a true tragedy.

Grace and peace.

Discipline

I've been spending a lot of time in Hebrews 12 today,  where we are reminded that God disciplines those he loves, or loves those he disciplines.

Now, I have to be honest. Although I have been a Christian nearly all my life and I have  long understood the same God who so loved the world that he sent his only son, is the same God who allowed Job to be tormented by the devil. I've not found this picture of a loving but disciplinarian Father to be all that helpfull.
I have understood that his love is unquestionable,  even when we are going through the worst of times and that somehow,  in his mystery, he allows us to go through suffering because he wants us to grow. Because he loves us.

 

But here's the thing.  It always seemed a bit twisted to me.  Sadistic, almost. Not because I doubt his love, but because I doubt his method.

And I realised today why that was. It is my relationship with the word discipline. You see, where I read the word discipline, I heard 'punishment'. I've been to bible college.  I know this is not what is being spoken of, but subconsciously I don't think I have ever escaped the connotations of the word.

When I think discipline,  I think of the smacking and humiliation I received as a child.  The phrases that stick in my head are 'I'm doing this because I love you', 'this is hurting me more than it is you' and the all time classic,  'it's for your own good!'

I am not suggesting for a minute my father didn't love me. I am not attempting to set this out as a case against corporal punishment. It has its detractors but this is not the time and place for it. The problem is that for a child, its a very confusing message. I'm being hurt here but I'm being told that this is good, that this is love??

But the issue with this kind of discipline is that it is more of a punishment than it is anything else. It is retribution and penalty.  It seems, as I suppose all these things do, to act as a deterrent,  or like aversion therapy.

 

I guess I have never shaken those associations with the word discipline. Especially in terms of Gods discipline.

 

But if we take the word in another of its forms  'disciple' we have entirely different concepts to work with. Think of the way Jesus corrects his disciples, lovingly,  at times with humour.  Sometimes with  the stern rebuke. Yes.  But always with a tender tone. And disciples are there for one thing,  to learn.  And that is what is behind even my own childhood discipline.  My Father was not just disciplining me when he was punishing me. That was just one small part of the discipline he offered me. He discipled me when he taught me to mend a puncture or to solve a mathematical problem.  He discipled me when he showed kindness to my mother,  he discipled me when he prayed with me.  He discipled me through every part of life that he shared with me. This was discipline too. And he did it because he loved me. He wanted to equip me as best as he could to face the world as a godly man. And I respect him for it.

 

And so when I think of Heavenly Father disciplining me today, I see his tender love, his care for me. He is discipling me 'through' the hard times and suffering. He is teaching me, with me, by my side. He's not above, me, pouring out some kind of karmic retribution, hurting me for my own good. He disciples those he loves.

The Anchor and the Storm

Faithful one, so unchanging
Ageless one, you're my rock of peace
Lord of all I depend on you
I call out to you, again and again
I call out to you, again and again

During a worship song at church today, I had one of those moments, the ones where I had to share. I promised God, at the start of this year that I would be obedient to these when they come along. Sometimes I am waiting for the right moment, specifically hoping it will never come, so I don't have to put myself 'out there'. This was not one of those moments. I was nervous, as I always am, but I was certain that I was willing to bring it when the time came. However the right moment did not come. The song, which had inspired the word, drifted into a time of singing in the spirit and then, while I was waiting for it to die down enough to speak the musicians led us into another song.

 So I prayed about what to do with it, and then I thought, 'write it down'. I hope that this is why God didn't allow more space in the meeting at that exact moment. If he had allowed it, I never would have written it down and then you wouldn't be reading this. I hope you know that by me saying you, I mean someone who is meant to be reading this. And it may be that you were in that service and this is still for you. And even if its not specifically for you then it is, at least generally, still for you.

          You are my rock in times of trouble
you lift me up when I fall down
All through the storm
Your love is, the anchor
My hope is in You alone

 

 

 The song we were singing is 'Faithful one', A song that rarely fails to touch me as , for a season at least, it was one of my Mothers favourites. This time the line 'All through the storm your love is the anchor' really grabbed me. I am given to pondering on the imagery of the lyrics, during worship and so it was no surprise to me that I found myself imagining a diagram of an anchored ship, more particularly a sail ship. I saw a cut away sketch that revealed the ship sideways on and the anchor stretching below down to the sea bed.

Firstly the thing that struck me is that there must be some slack with an anchor. I am not remotely naughtical so I may be misinformed. However if the principle stands true for narrow boats then I presume it will for sea going vessels. If you moor your boat with a too taught rope and the water levels rise dramatically  then it will cause the boat to capsize because it is unable to rise with the levels.
So our anchor is. There must be movement. it may look from the surface as though we are drifting a little but we will never go further than the chain allows. If there is no slack, the anchor can work against us.

Secondly the slack that we have, during a storm would allow, to all intents and purposes, the impression to be given that we are at its mercy. The boat will still be tossed about, It will take a battering. But it will not drift further than the anchor allows.

Love is the anchor, within the imagery of this song. Not a harbour. Nor a port. Love is the anchor. We might prefer a harbour, safe and protected but, as wiser people have pointed out, a ship is not meant to be in a harbour. It is meant to be at sea. And you were not made to be in one place of safety for the rest of your days. You were made for voyages. Love is a security that you can take with you. It is a portable harbour.

I believe God wanted to say that despite appearances, out there on the high seas, if you're taking a battering, if you appear to be drifting, his love will not let you go. It holds you, unseen beneath the waves. You may only drift so far. All through the storm, his love is the anchor.

In our life group this past week we looked at a well known passage from scripture, Romans 8, which speaks about the unconquerable power of Gods love for us, that is in Christ;

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.~ v37-39

This anchor holds firm through EVERY storm, Christian. EVERY storm. If you drift, you never go beyond its reaches or ability to keep you. This is love that wilt not let you go.
If you are in the storm, take courage. If you are in the port, put out to sea. God made you to have the wind in your sails and air of freedom in your face.

Job's Other Children.

While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!” Job 1:18-19

Job is consoled at the end of his story, by 10 more children, Seven sons and three beautiful daughters. He lives to 140, and sees his descendants to the 4th generation. His riches are restored and he was blessed more by God, in the post disaster part of his life, than he had been in the first part. But I wonder, if at 139, bouncing his great, great grandchildren on his weakened knees, he didn't spare a thought for the children that he lost in that awful storm. I suspect that no matter what came after, nothing could have replaced what he had lost. Grief is like that. It never goes entirely. It kind of reshapes you, it becomes livable but it is still present.

I have always struggled to find comfort in the children that Job receives after the event. It seems to me, (taking aside that these were real children, real human beings with their own individual attributes and personalities and ways of relating to their Father), that their presence in the story just rubs salt in the wounds. I am a father. I am sure it doesn't work like that. You love each child on their own merit, and sometimes without much merit. But it seems to me that we are being asked by the story, to simply accept that everything is okay again. And what about those Children? What had they done to deserve to be wiped out like that?

At some fundamental level my response to this is the same as it would be to those deaths of school children in Oklahoma this week, the same as it would be to any children lost in natural disasters, or any adults for that matter (and Jobs children were grown, that much is clear by the nature of the activity they were involved in at the time of their demise). My response is, 'its not fair!'

But the thing I realised about the story of Job is that it is the story of Job. Profound, hey? What I mean is, ultimately, as far as the story goes, it is not about them. That does not mean, that if they were real flesh and blood people, that God did not care about them, or that he had simply chalked them up as collateral damage. It means that that is another story, and one that is not told in scripture. The story we are told is about Job and not his children. It is about how we respond to suffering, and how we maintain our integrity when all the anchors of reasoning and emotional connection to the Almighty are ripped out of the ground in a single moment.

Job's story raises many questions about the origins of evil and causes of suffering. Job mostly maintains his integrity but none the less, in the awe inspiring end to the long explorations of these themes, God declares himself to Job. He says

Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge?

Firstly it needs to be observed that whenever we speak about these things, we are lacking in a knowledge of what we speak of. We only get one very limited perspective. We see in part, only. God then, through a series of questions compares his own achievements to Job's (and really humanity's) own. It is really his way of making the distinction clear. We are not dealing with another man here. This is the Almighty, maker of the universe. Essentially, who are we to question him?

Not exactly the comfort we are looking for but, at some deeper level I think it might just be. God is enshrouded in mystery. Perhaps that despite an all powerful and benevolent creator there is such suffering is the greatest mystery we will ever have to face. Our impotence in the face of it is quite humbling. Perhaps we don't need answers, perhaps we need acceptance. If God was not loving though, this would be a terrible state of affairs. It is only when we understand the love of God that we can start to trust him, that he knows what he is doing, even when we are clueless and blinded with grief and rage. He never lost control. Not once. Sometimes the things that we must face are crippling but If God is redeeming the world to himself, at least, ultimately, there is a purpose in it. It is not needless, senseless suffering. It is a mystery but it is not without reason, nor apart from divine love.

And it is not the story of those whose time is done, be they seven or seventy. The question is what are we to do, how are we to respond?

My life is in your hands

I haven't done this for a while. No, not the blog, although I haven't. I mean the type of blog. I don't tend to use it for personal journalling but tonight I wanted to just get this down while its fresh. But it is quite personal. Don't worry, not THAT personal.

I've been thinking about trying some meditation again. A while back, a long while back, I had in my possession a clutch of books that taught on meditation, from a biblical perspective which I fully intended to read, and apply. The ancients used to do it, the Patriarch's of our faith, King David, the church fathers, the desert fathers and lots of godly people. I have a sneaky suspicion that Jesus used to do it himself. But in my church tradition it is almost a dead practise. There is a wide acknowledgement that biblical meditation is a perfectly  acceptable and beneficial practise. But can I find anyone in my acquaintance who regularly practises it, or who teaches it? I'm sure there may be a few who dabble but I have rarely heard anyone speak of it.

Anyway I had started to read a couple of the books. Richard Foster's 'Celebration of Discipline'' (Which starts with Meditation) and 'School for Prayer' by Metropolitan Anthony. I had started to experiment a little with silence, in my prayer life, but felt about as spiritual as a discarded prophylactic. But that was nothing to the conviction I started to feel when I read the books by these Godly men. There writing was so rich with spiritual authority that it almost hurt to read it. I could barely get through two sentences without being deeply challenged. I wanted to achieve a deeper prayer life and a closeness with God but in all honesty I found it, and still do in many ways, too costly. You don't get nearer to God without transformation. Its that simple. And, after a short time, I had wimped out.

But I had been thinking lately that it might be time to face it again. Indeed, I thought a little earlier in the week that I may well pick up one of my books again and start putting it in to practise, reporting back on my progress in a weekly blog.

Almost independently from this thinking, I had an experience this evening which kind of confirmed things to me again. That this was the right direction for me. I was walking home from house group, across the fields, a few miles listening to my MP3 player the whole way. As is my habit, when walking and not surrounded by people, my thoughts were interspersed with prayer, but no real concentration. I was approaching the last field when I felt, from nowhere, seemingly, that perhaps I ought to just turn off the music and walk over this last field, in silence. And listen, you know, to God.

In all my times at home sitting in silence, even using a biblical mantra on a few occasions, I had never experienced anything but frustration. But on a few of the occasions I have practised this silence whilst walking I have heard Gods voice. Not an audible one, a voice that is identical to the sound of my thoughts. In other words, It is no different from my thinking. what IS distinctive about it, when it actually happens, is the nature of the thoughts themselves. they are always authoritative and gentle. Direct and wise. And they nearly always bring clarity. the first time I heard God speak like this, he said 'Shut up'. A very good starting place. The bible tells us, be still and know that I am God. Yes. that requires some reverent silence, accompanied by more than a little awe.

And almost immediately as I stepped into that last field, he began speaking to me. He told me it had been too long since I did this, he affirmed that it felt good tom me to be in his presence, didn't it? (yes it did, Lord) and he told me, He had been here waiting for this, ever since I gave up on it. That he didn't mind, because he is patient. I started to respond in my head, in the silence, and my thoughts got mixed up with his. I started to surrender to him. And the words came into my head, 'My life is in your hands'. I took this to be an expression of trust on my part.

And then it became clear to me, or at least clearer. Wasn't it God that had been speaking. Yes, I think that was him, not me. God was saying 'my life is in your hands'. I had to think about that.

Was he saying I was responsible for his life? Of course not, at least not in the most obvious sense. But the more I think about that phrase, the richer it is.  But in a way I am responsible for his life which he has put inside me. Not responsible for ensuring his safety, but responsible for what I do with the gift he has given me. He has placed it into my hands. My decisions and actions are therefore doubly important.

And on another level, 'My life is in your hands'. Hands are symbolic of what we do, our actions. So in what I do, in how I chose to serve him, that is where his life is. In two distinct ways. One is that I am acting as his hands and feet. His life is reaching others through me. I am acting as his representative when I do his work. Two is that he brings life to what my hands do, when they are employed in his service.

I needed to hear this, because, I have lost some sense of connection to this, over the years. That I make a difference. It may not be a huge difference but it is a difference none the less. He is not going to indwell me and overpower me. If there is a blockage to my doing his will then 'Guess what, matey?' It's up to me to remove it.  I do not mean to play down Gods grace, not at all. I just mean to play up my responsibility to make a difference. I have a tendency to coast. Father knows that and tonight he kindly told me, that it is time to wake up, and see what a precious thing he has given me, and to see how much more effectively i can serve him with it. Because his life is in my hands. His healing can flow through them too. I am in him, and he is in me. To think I so nearly missed that tonight because he spoke to me in a way I would not usually have heard. Only if I was silent. Only if I was listening.

 I think the Richard Foster book may getting a visit from me in the not too distant future.