Disconnected, or Not

Early every Saturday morning I used to have the distinct pleasure of a twenty-five minute walk through well-groomed quiet neighbourhoods to my part-time job at a grocery store. Did it for several years. I passed my son’s old high school and a church and a separate school property and playground, several beautiful Rose-of-Sharon bushes, some flowering lilies, a young tradesman filling his pick-up with tools for some Saturday over-time,and the occasional smiling retiree or dog-walker. Birds were always part of the experience, and their singing, particularly the cardinals, finches, robins and mourning doves.A passer-by would usually give me the courteous knowing nod, as if to say, “Haven’t we found the best part of the day?” Two back-yard dogs, Schnauzers, would acknowledge me, the one cranky and barking, his partner apologetic. A couple of times surprisingly, in some green corner, I saw the sleeping homeless or hung-over.You wouldn’t find me “plugged in” with either cell-phone or music to my ears. This short excursion was “private property”. I appreciated the quiet and the chance to think or pray. Frequently a strain of thought would come out of left-field, apparently non sequitur, but having that sort of character which suggests God origin.

Messages, writings and much comfort and correction have come in this fashion. I enjoy His company. In these special short times I considered myself to be most definitely “connected”. Are we as a society losing the quiet, the time and the inclination to meditate? To smell the roses? Pity.


John the Beloved Stands

In John 18 we follow Jesus from Gethsemane to the palace of the High Priest. We flinch as we anticipate Peter’s rooster-heralded denials. But we miss something concerning John:

15And Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple: that disciple was known unto the high priest, and went in with Jesus into the palace of the high priest.
16But Peter stood at the door without. Then went out that other disciple, which was known unto the high priest, and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter.

John went into the hall of stiff and starched religion and stood as a witness to the abuse which was being heaped upon Jesus’ name and mission. Do we go into such places and stand with Jesus against hypocrisy, man-made tradition, compromise with worldly priorities and play-things, coldness of heart, misrepresentation of the Word of God, prayerlessness?

Well done brave beloved one. You are soon going to receive your Lord’s sweet bequest of His Mother; and she your ministrations and shared love and reminiscences of the glorious carpenter.

“Stop You Dead” Encounter

He has read your mail

He has called your bluff

He has seen your cards

And they’re not enough

He has heard your thoughts

Watched your darkest deed

But He loves you still

And would have you freed.

You have tried them all

Silly hopes of men

Now you’re sitting still

Facing Him again

And so tired of games

And the constant fret

Of life’s vain treadmill

Just to gain and get

Is He speaking now

To your inner man

To break with it all

If you will, you can.

And a moment’s fear

Says you’re good as dead

Just a loathesome fool

With a swollen head

But He speaks for sure

And it’s to your heart

“I have plans for you

Now’s the time to start.”

Just like that dear Lord

Will you drop the list

Of the hearts I hurt

And the grace I missed?

“I am sovereign, Son

And my mercy stands.

And your slate wiped clean

By my nail-pierced hands.”

Enlarged into Human Sympathy


My soul, if thou wouldst be enlarged into human sympathy, thou must be narrowed into limits of human suffering. Joseph’s dungeon is the road to Joseph’s throne. Thou canst not lift the iron load of thy brother if the iron hath not entered into thee. It is thy limit that is thine enlargement. It is the shadows of thy life that are the real fulfillment of thy dreams of glory. Murmur not at the shadows; they are better revelations than thy dreams. Say not that the shades of the prison-house have fettered thee; thy fetters are wings — wings of flight into the bosom of humanity. The door of thy prison-house is a door into the heart of the universe. God has enlarged thee by the binding of sorrow’s chain. —George Matheson (as found in Streams in the Desert)

The Mission is in Searching Out Him

I have just read a portion of an old topical teaching by Oswald Chambers, entitled So Send I You. The theme is effective missions and witnessing as contained in lectures to students in Chambers’ Bible College, before he went to British troops in Egypt during World War One. He died of an illness contracted there.

He suggested that the mis-guided missionary craze was to improve, civilize, heal and educate. This was secondary, and robbing evangelistic effort of the power to be God-directed in one man or a few who would make a quality decision to approach ever more intimately the person of Jesus Christ. The means of communion are there (Bible, prayer, meditation, sanctified discourse, the elements of the Supper, irreplaceable leading of the Holy Spirit).

The Christian worker “steeped” in Christ merely did the simple, obvious and available work, but with tremendous Godly power and precision. He made himself available. God said gently “here” or “over to that person” or “not yet”. He did the service wherever he was to be found; not, as humourously stated, wherever he was not found.

And the bulk of the work was found in prayer. Remember how Jesus said “the fields are white unto harvest; therefore pray ye the Lord of the harvest that He will send forth workers.”

But oh no we North Americans must always be planning, programming, doing and seen to be doing. Pity. The Power just went somewhere else.

He Sings

He sings

And hardly even knows the reason

He bobs

As cat-tails frolic in the breeze

He scolds

As anything of risk comes near the nestlings

He thrills

This little Lord o’er all the stream he sees.

We’re made

For noble purpose kindly birthed in Heaven

We work

Or teach or write or bake or care

We thank

For all the training of a simple providence

We praise

The Lord of life for all His mercies rare.