Processing thoughts

I’ve been looking back on some of my old blogs. This is partly so I don’t repeat myself, and partly because I recently gained a follower who has read quite a few of my older posts and commented on them.  (I have no idea who how this person found me as they aren’t to my knowledge part of my online ‘friend’ group) It still amazes me that what began as a project for me to get some of the things in my head on ‘paper’ whether anyone read them or not is now attracting people all over the world to read what I write. Some of them even want to read more.  Before you think I am getting ahead of myself, I actually only have 30 followers. One of them is me (so I could work out what it meant to follow my blog) and one is my dad – and I’m pretty sure he isn’t reading them at the moment.

The thing is, having looked back over the past 3 ½ years or so, there are two subjects that have had the most views, the most response. The first is a post I wrote about Coronavirus. I had read a lot of things online, and wanted to put on record what it was like for someone working in a laboratory, testing hundreds of samples a day, with no let up and no real prospect of it all coming to an end.

The other subject that has proved ‘popular’ is my journey of grief. Losing someone you love is never easy, losing three of them in the space of 2 ½ years is incredibly painful. I don’t say that for more sympathy – it’s just how it is. For years before I have been vocal about the fact that during a crisis is not the time to decide what or whom you believe. It is true that during a crisis you may find out what you really do believe, but it is no time to go looking for the answers.  The past few years have challenged me again and again to draw on my faith. Each time I have found it to be up to the challenge. When people ask how I cope in any given situation, it isn’t because I am a strong person. I’m not. I find it incredibly difficult to hold things together by myself. The truth is I have an incredibly strong God who has promised never to leave me or forsake me. Whatever I do, whatever I say – He has been beside me to offer support, and when things got simply too much to bear, He picked me up and carried me until I had healed enough to walk again.

That’s not to say I haven’t cried. I have expressed emotion when I needed to. For decades I felt that this would be a sign of weakness. Stiff upper lip and all that, but more recently I have learned that it is far more important to be true to myself. To admit when I need help. To be me.

I read a quote recently which got me thinking about being brave, and holding emotions inside.

Jesus knew Lazarus would rise again. Still, He wept.

Because embracing pain is not negating faith. It’s actually being part of the likeness of God.

So have hope, but don’t deny your emotions. Pay attention to them. Feel what you feel.

And enjoy the coming resurrection.” Carlos A Rodrguez

Bill Johnson once famously said that “Faith doesn’t deny a problems existence, it denies it a place of influence.” 

My sister recently wrote about a song by Mercy Me that had caused her to examine what she did believe and what she wanted to be able to say honestly to God. The song is called Even if (I’ll post a link at the end of this blog). The song recognises that there is no doubt that God cares. It acknowledges that God is able to do anything and everything to change things. But it also accepts that because we don’t see everything that God sees, there are some instances (depending on what you are going through at any given time that may feel more like most instances) He doesn’t appear to step in to change things – despite persistent and faithful prayer. 

The song goes on to say that in spite off all that God can and could do, if for some reason He chooses not to – I will still praise Him. (You may remember that Daniel and his friends said much the same thing when faced with a den of hungry lions)

It is far easier to make the decision to say that when not faced with lions. It isn’t impossible, just much easier.

I’d like to end this post with another quote which I heard recently. I hope you are as encouraged and comforted by it – as I was when I heard it.

God is – and all is well.

Don’t miss this

She was staring out the window of that SUV, 

Complainin’ saying ‘I cant wait to turn 18’

She said “I’ll make my own money, and I’ll make my own rules”

Mama put the car in park our there in front of the school

Then she kissed her head and said ‘I was just like you’

You’re gonna miss this

You’re gonna want this back

You’re gonna wish these days hadn’t gone by so fast

These are some good times

So take a good look around

You may not know it now 

But you’re gonna miss this.”

This is the first verse and chorus from the song by Trace Adkins. The song goes on to describe a young woman walking through life constantly planning for the next step. Each step of her journey she found no satisfaction. She wanted more. The life she had was not enough.

If I’m honest I can probably recognise myself in the song. Perhaps not all the time, but certainly at points in life I have seen some as mere steppingstones to something that I believed at the time to be better and more fulfilling.

Looking back it becomes clear that the thing I was so confident would make things better really didn’t. Different yes – but rarely better. Each new thing holds its own challenges, new hurdles to overcome.

I am reminded of the rich young fool that Jesus talks about in Luke 12. He got to the point that he was unable to store what he had and pulled down his barns to build bigger and better ones. He was sure that in storing all that he had securely would make life easier, he could sit back, relax and ‘make merry.’ That decision was the last one that he took, as God called time on his plans.

Please be clear, I am not suggesting we don’t do things that will improve our situation. I don’t think if the rich man had simply built a bigger barn, and continued to work, providing for his family and society he would have found himself face to face with God to give an account of himself. It’s not taking the step that causes problems, its whether we are truly satisfied with what the hand that we have been given at any point. Are we willing to be content? To wait? To worship during the pain and longing?

I’ve come to realise in the past few years that not living with contentment in the situation robs me of peace. Wishing that things were different hasn’t changed the fact that I am no longer able to spend time with mum and dad. Although I enjoyed a good relationship with them, there was often something that prevented spending as much time as I now wish I had spent with them. Had I not been trying so hard to satisfy so many different people and desires, perhaps I would have had time for those that I now can’t share time with. 

I suppose what I’m saying is that it is really important to live for today.

Remember the past (I’ve written about that before – check , “create the future, don’t guard the past ”for more) but don’t live there. 

Plan for tomorrow. Dream big for the future – God has plans for you there that far exceed yours.

But please, please please live in today. Enjoy those you love. Make time for them. Take lots of pictures. There will come a time when you wish that the last one you have was more up to date.

Lockdown is hard

Facebook tells me that two years ago yesterday I broke my ankle. At the time it was inconvenient but the circumstances that caused it were quite amusing. I’ve always said that exercise is bad for your health. I’ve proved that at least twice now.

Why then did I find it so difficult to read it?  Why has it been playing on my mind all day today? 

The truth is that as a result of the break, I wasn’t able to drive. I therefore wasn’t able to take my daughter to school.  That meant I had to get a lift to work, and find an alternative way to do the school run. The person who stepped up without considering the inconvenience was my dad.  He picked both of us up each day and dropped us off. Whatever the weather. No matter what he had planned for the day.

It was only a few short months after that he died. Less than two years. I thought I had dealt with it. 

Turns out I haven’t. 

I’ve been sad today. I’ve realised a lot of things. Things that have always been there, but for one reason or another haven’t been fully dealt with. You probably know me to be a smile and carry-on sort of a person.  I seem to take most things in my stride. But the truth is that this is often a mask, a persona that I use to cope with life. I spend a lot of time thinking about things. Even more over thinking things.

What I don’t do is spend a lot of time talking about things – especially feelings. Part of the reason for that is that I struggle to open up to people. Psychologists would probably tell you that because I was brought up in a country not of my birth, I have adopted what became a third culture. Not fully Scottish, not fully Papua New Guinean, but a mixture of the two. Add in the Australian and American influences and my brain didn’t really know where home was. I convinced myself that wherever I was I would call home. That has worked well for years. The problem is that my head has struggled to identify with any one culture as a result. I hold lots of things inside – because I don’t have the tools to explain them. And then I think some more. 

I “know” a lot of people. If honest, there are only a handful that I would call close friends. (sorry if that surprises you). There are even fewer that really know me, and that I can open up completely to.

Lockdown has meant that catching up with even that few has been challenging. I feel that I’m either at work or getting ready to go to work. Spare time (what is that I hear you say) is at a premium, and energy to actually do productive things almost non-existent.  Even if I had the mental energy to meet up – it’s against the law. (unless we exercise – and as I’ve already said, that can be bad for your health.)

Talking does help. We men are invariably bad at it anyway. Much more in lockdown. It is almost impossible to open up and share significantly on a Zoom call. What I’ve realised though (a long walk, good music helped) is that when I actually verbalise the issue, it suddenly gets smaller. It’s as if as it leaves my mouth it gets further away and less impressive. The space that it has taken up in my head is free – and life seems significantly more manageable. I’m still not very good at actually opening up to people, but writing has helped me to ‘verbalise’.

I still miss my dad. Memories of him still make me sad. I wrote the first draft of this yesterday – and felt a little better having done it. (believe me you didn’t want to read that version) It gave me the strength to re-word it. I feel more positive than I did.

Lockdown is hard – but maybe, if we can learn to  really talk to people, we can find a way to unlock the padlock, and stay free in these difficult times.

In God we Trust?

2020 felt like it lasted forever. Days felt like weeks, weeks like months. “Stay home, make space, protect the NHS” All meant to ensure that life could get back to ‘normal’. Back to the way life used to be.

There is no doubt that there are elements of ‘normal’ that will be celebrated when they are possible again. I wouldn’t say that I go around hugging every person I see, but I long to hug friends again. I can’t wait until I can simply sit and have a coffee with someone without feeling that I need to get my mask back on quickly. Perhaps even to have someone visit and sit on the sofa for an hour or two and just chew the fat.

I was watching a video earlier and it struck me that perhaps there are some things that we should leave behind in the depths of 2020. 

I’m sure you will be able to think of things that you used to do religiously that now you are prevented from doing them, there is a certain release, and ultimately a calm that has developed.

God is able to turn any situation to good. That isn’t to say that God sends storms into our life just to show us how amazing He is. He isn’t like that. The question is, are we able to trust that He will do that? Are we willing to wait until He makes it good again? 

Is it possible that during this time He is giving us a bit of a shake? Challenging us to examine whether we are trusting Him, or trusting in our ‘normality’ and ‘familiarity’ to get us through the day? Is our trust truly in His ability or do we only turn to Him when there is a storm to navigate? 

Abraham and Sarah waited decades for a son. Joseph was sold into slavery then thrown in prison before God raised him up. The Israelites spent 400 years in Egypt before the Exodus. God appeared to be silent for 400 years before sending Jesus.

Waiting seems to be ‘normal’ in the Kingdom. 

We have waited a year. 

It feels like forever. It has been too long for some. 

I believe it is time to take a careful look at where our trust is. 

Are we looking to the promise (God will make it good) or to the Promiser (God is Good)? 

What’s under your feet?

If the lockdown that has been imposed as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic has done anything it has made me exercise. (that, and a watch that reminds me to move, stand and exercise and ‘rewards’ me for doing so) 

I always feel better after a brisk walk, but it is never my first choice (that would be sitting on the sofa with my feet up). 

Today we tried something a little different. We downloaded an App, and tried geocaching for the first time. We searched for small tins and boxes hidden throughout the valley near where we live. Once found, we ‘logged’ our finds, and hid them again for others to find.

Doing this in winter holds the challenge of lots of mud, which, especially on a hill is really quite slippery. One can never be sure if the next step will be the one that results in a fall. Where you plant your feet has to be considered carefully. Even the correct footwear doesn’t seem to guarantee that you will navigate the path without a fall. Today I was wearing boot with good tread, but that was quickly filled with sticky mud. It was like walking on an ice rink in bare feet.

The past 12 months has felt pretty similar to walking on mud with no grip. Each week has brought new challenges, with new levels of restrictions and new opinions as to the implications of those. Just when we got to a point on the journey where the mud wasn’t so bad, where there felt like there was a little bit of respite, we were told that just ahead there was more mud, even deeper and more slippery than that which we had already tentatively navigated.

The seasons will change though. Spring will come (perhaps the odd shower) followed by summer where we hope the ground will dry out and make journeys easier. 

I suppose the point I am trying to make is that how easy it is to make headway, to ensure that we don’t fall and get messed up, depends very much on what is underfoot.  

For far too many people, life has been turned upside down by Covid-19. Whether simply because movement has been restricted or feeling the loss of a loved one, it will be some time before anything resembling normal will be possible. I believe that even though we have all experienced changed, some have been able to cope more than others. Those of us with a faith in a God can lean on the sure and certain knowledge that He is able to keep us from falling.

Psalm 40 tells us that when we wait for the Lord, He will turn to us and hear us. When we are walking through boggy ground, crying out to God to help us is OK. We aren’t expected to do it all by ourselves. He is able to pick us up and set our feet upon solid rock. He can and will give us a path through things may be difficult to get through. 

Knowing what is under our feet can bring a confidence and peace that others don’t have. 

Chances are they will ask you how. Be sure that you tell them.

The right order

A friend posted part of a verse from John 15:5 a few days ago. It says, “I am the vine; you are the branches.”

I am sure that will be familiar to many of us. 

Those who have read the bible a lot will know that it is possible to read the same verse several times, and then suddenly find that there is a different angle to it, a facet that you haven’t noticed before. Sometimes it is something you’ve seen before, and it is the Holy Spirit giving you a nudge, letting you know that it’s time to look again, to reconsider and to adjust our thinking.

I suppose like many of us, I spend a lot of time thinking about Coronavirus. The virus that we were told would be beaten by the middle of last year, has persisted and is fighting back. Hospitals are busier than ever, and restrictions on movement and contact with other humans have been curbed to levels which threaten the mental health of many. It is unsurprising that it has become an all-consuming thought for large number of people.

“How are we going to beat it?”  “What are the rules today?”  “How can I push them to the limit?” “Why aren’t the government doing more?”  “Why are the government trying to control me?” 

All understandable questions. These are unprecedented times we are living in.

What I realised, at least for me, was I perhaps had begun to apply the verse at the beginning of this post round the wrong way.

When I try and control things, when I try to figure it all out myself what I find myself doing is assuming I am the vine, and He is simply an add on, something that I will feed when I take care of all the other things going on.

What I have also discovered is that doing things this way never works out for the best. (I did already know this, it’s just that as a human I tend to forget sometimes) It turns out God knows what He is doing. He hasn’t put things in place to control us, but because He loves us, and really does want the best for us.

Allowing Him to be the Vine, to nourish us, to comfort us, to give us wisdom in tough situations, to simply be God will allow us to become everything He has planned for us. 

It’s OK to ask the questions. It is OK to look for the answers.

But let’s allow God to be God.

It’s His job and He really is very good at it.

My tuppence – A Coronavirus response

It’s been a while since I was inspired to write something from a song. 

Two things have been buzzing through my mind in the past few days. The first is my response to the Coronavirus pandemic, and the second is the following lyric.

Opening salvo
Didn’t help solve anything
Every time we shout our rights out
We get all grouchy and grey

It’s all about me, me
It’s all about what I can take
And if that doesn’t ring true anymore
Maybe it was our first mistake

In a way the two are quite closely linked. 

The government have an almost impossible task (and I genuinely think that is true for whichever party may be in power) of balancing the desire to open up the economy and the necessity to keep the population safe.

It feels like they are sending mixed messages. One day we are being told to try and get back to ‘normal’, the next to stay home and protect ourselves. What appears to be a U-turn is in fact a response to scientific evidence. The circulation of the virus is changing, and so must our response to it.

Parts of the advice doesn’t seem to make any sense. Why are one group allowed to gather, and another prevented from doing so? 

None of us enjoy having our freedom ‘taken away’ from us. We feel that we have rights. We feel that if we are prevented from doing what we wish we deserve recompense and a full explanation. Each of us will have different circumstances in which we find ourselves. Even those that appear at first sight to be the same, will have idiosyncrasies that mean a ‘one size fits all’ solution won’t suit.  

There have been some terrible leaders of countries around the world over the centuries, I genuinely believe that those in charge of our country at present (or Her Majesties opposition if they were in power), have the best interests of the country at heart. They would not be asking us to stay 2 metres apart and avoid mixing with others if it really wasn’t absolutely necessary. We are dealing with a virus and a situation that is evolving (not a popular word in most Christian circles, but that is what is happening), and we must respond quickly. Science has and will give us pointers as to the direction to go, but as a lecturer once said to me (as I was studying Microbiology at MSc level in case you wondered if I was simply adding to the abundance of opinion online from no place of understanding) ‘Microorganisms do not read text books’

We can try and predict what they will do, and how they will interact with us, but when all is said and done, they will survive by any means necessary.

How does the song link to all this you may be wondering? I guess my issue with the way people are reacting online is that for large parts of the population they are ‘shouting their rights out’. They want to do what they want to do. They have ‘survived’ the first wave, and now feel invincible. They feel that the government were slow to react in the first instance, but the same people now feel that they have overreacted at the beginning of the second wave.

People are complaining about the number and availability of tests. I can personally confirm that we are working flat out to perform as many as we possibly can with the available hardware. We’ve extended the working day from 9-5 to 8-11pm. We don’t have any more staff to do this (in fact we have less following some moving on to other things), but the number of tests we are expected to carry out is increasing daily. We still meet the government target of 15hrs – but it is beginning to break the one thing that is difficult to repair. Each and every one of us is exhausted. We continue because we always have but seeing calls for us to do more is difficult to take. 

What we don’t know (and never will) is how bad would it have been if the government had done nothing?  I saw something earlier this week indicating that if I had influenza and did nothing, I would infect 1.3 people. If these people went on to infect the same number of people, up to 10 times, 14 people in total would be infected.

If the same were true with Coronavirus, given what we know about the infectivity, and that was continued on 10 times as before, a staggering 59,000 people would be infected.

It is true that at present the sharpest increase in infections is in the 20-29yr age bracket. It is also true that for the majority of these people, Coronavirus will be a relatively mild infection. If we did nothing, as so many of the ‘Facebook experts’ seem to be suggesting, it doesn’t take much thought to realise that pretty soon your older parents, or grandparents, or those with underlying conditions would become infected. It seems to me to be incredibly selfish to be so concerned about your own rights of movement and freedom but not to seem to care about those of others. 

I wish I could predict how this will all pan out. Will there be a vaccine by Christmas (highly unlikely), or the middle of next year (possibly)? Will that be the silver bullet we are all hoping it will be? (who knows). What I do know that it is no good for some of us to do something and for others to ignore the advice, guidance and in some cases the law of the land.  Either we all do this, or the virus takes over. There is no middle ground.

Following the guidance will help. If we all do, perhaps we can get back to working normal hours and seeing our families again. 

It’s all about me, me. It’s all about what I can take.’  

Not anymore. This is about all of us. All of us playing our part. 

Pulling down heaven

I saw a quote recently which got me thinking.

“You can’t push a rope. To end a drought, Elijah partnered with Heaven for rain to come. His final act before rain was to put his head between his knees as he pulled on heaven in prayer. Some of us are pushing so hard for rain, perhaps it is time to pull on heaven instead.”

It seems to me that as we progress further and further down the road that is a world with Coronavirus as a major part of it, both individuals and groups are pushing for a return to whatever they consider ‘normal’.

In the world that I live in this seems to be especially true in those who are trying to return to a worship experience that involves meeting in a building, singing songs and being with those who believe the same as we do.

Over the past few weeks I’ve seen opinions ranging from sticking as firmly as possible to the guidelines published by the government of the land (and taking a few steps beyond the guidelines just to be sure that they comply) to others where the only government that they are willing to recognise is government from heaven, and the directive in the bible clearly states that we ‘should not neglect meeting together.’

The exact position that your church takes will likely fall somewhere between these two extremes.

While I yearn to meet together, to worship as a body of believers I am pulled too by the rules that have been laid down by the leaders of our country, and by the science which I understand (and is evolving as we find out more about this novel virus). 

1 Peter  2:7 tells us to ‘honour everyone, Love the brotherhood, Fear God, Honour the Emperor’ What we are told to do by the leaders of our nation matters. I understand that in a number of cases the guidance is confusing, and seemingly contradictory. I get that it feels like churches are being unfairly targeted for stricter guidance than some other sectors. It makes little sense to most to allow schools and pubs to open, but restrict church services. 

Elijah could easily have simply told the rain to come. It was of course the way he ensured that there had been a drought in the first place. 

He spoke and it came to pass. 

When it was time for the drought to end though, there needed to be persistent and fervent prayer. It is true that when one knows ones identity and standing in the heart of the Father it is possible (and sometimes necessary and preferable) to simply speak things that we wish to see into being. 

But sometimes it is necessary (and preferable) to spend time petitioning heaven, asking for guidance, asking for His will to come on earth. Part of the reason that we need to spend that time on our knees asking Him to intervene is because we need to see the difference between our will and His. We have tried to be God in so many different ways by shouting our rights and complaining when we feel hard done by.

The Father wants our heart to beat as one with His. For His will to become our will.

At that point, Heaven will move. 

There will be no stopping it.

I have little doubt that it will look different to the ‘normal’ that we are trying to get back to – but I also have little doubt that it will be worth the wait.

Let us join together church, on our knees, pulling on heaven for our town, for our nation, for the world.

Is your brand visible?

New Forest ponies run free. 

Owned by ‘Commoners’ they are rounded up each year so that their owners can check on their health. Although the practice is changing (to microchipping) many of the ponies have been branded to identify them. All will have their tails clipped to a specified pattern so that it can be proved that fees have been paid by their owners.

Although the concept of ownership of animals is largely accepted, ownership of people is something we take a stand against. 

This makes me wonder about the Christianise phrase ‘I belong to Jesus’. Does it make a difference that it is something that we willingly do? Jesus doesn’t force himself on us, but ‘stands at the door and knocks.’ (Rev 3:20) It is up to us to open the door, accept Him and allow Him to direct our lives.

As Christians, although we shouldn’t have a physical mark identifying us as belonging to Christ, there should be something that others can spot easily. What is it in your life? Does the language you use change? Do you demonstrate the love that Christ has for you by loving the unlovable in front of you? Do you put others first, allowing them to develop into all that God has for them?

The bible says that others will know we are Christians by the way we love one another. (John 13:35). I don’t know about you, but I find it easy to love those I agree with. I spend time with those that share similar interests and invest in relationships with these people. 

What is more difficult is loving those that have different interests and beliefs. That means others that identify as Christians as well as those who don’t. How we relate to others who practice their faith in a different way to us is really important. I would go so far as to suggest that it is even more important than the way we relate to those who have no faith at all. Whether they care to admit it or not, those that have no faith are watching those who profess to follow Jesus. They want to know if we actually believe what we say we do.  Are we celebrating what others are doing, even if it is different to the way we would do it?  

We say that we don’t care where people go to church as long as they do go, but are we secretly judging others that don’t come to our church? 

Are we allowing the love of Jesus to permeate every part of our lives? We may not be physically branded as Christians (even though I wonder if that would make us act more like Christians sometimes?) but the way we love people should make it easy for people to know to whom we belong.

More questions than answers

This blog will be a bit different to others I have written. In previous posts I have sought to bring a new perspective on some spiritual truth or a reminder of one that perhaps seems to have been forgotten at the time of writing. 

In this one, I fear that I will be posting far more unanswered questions that providing answers. The questions are a result of me currently struggling with seemingly diametric truths about what I believe to be true.

The struggle isn’t new. As a family we have been walking a journey which has seemed unfair, difficult, frustrating and, as a parent heart-breaking. From the passing of both parents so close together, to the chronic illness of a daughter who has now been unable to attend school, or do anything that young teenagers enjoy for over a year, I think it is fair to say that this is not the path we would have chosen. When the doctors say that there really isn’t anything that can be done to help, or don’t really seem to ‘get it’, it should be comforting to know that our faith gives us assurance that we are connected to the Great Physician and therefore He will sort it out.

And we are comforted by that, and we do believe that He will.

But the waiting is hard. There have been, there are, and there will be tears along the way. 

I was recently inspired by the following lyrics from a song by Jason Upton.

‘what’s amazing to me about a man like you

Is that you raised the dead

But had to suffer too


You see, I believed that God can and does heal today. You can try and convince me otherwise but won’t be able to. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I firmly believe that Jesus meant it when He said that we that believe would do the things He did, and greater things that that too. I believe that He raised the dead, healed all that came to Him, confounded the religious rulers of the day with His interpretation of the scriptures. He had access to the full storehouses of heaven, what is more He knew it. He was God, here on earth in flesh. 

And yet He suffered. He had nowhere to lay His head. During His ministry years He was pursued by men who wanted Him dead. When He was finally arrested, He was subjected to the cruellest torture and death known at the time or since. 

It is easy to see Jesus as someone who came to earth to show us the way, yet not grasp the fact that He understands that we are struggling along the way. That He couldn’t understand because He had it easy, because He was God. 

That isn’t the example that we read about in the Gospels. Here we see a man who was despised and rejected. One that was ‘acquainted’ with suffering. If we are looking for the ultimate example of one who knows what a difficult life is like, we need look no further.

As humans we have a template of what is good and what isn’t. We are pretty much universally agreed that sickness, illness and death are bad. Good health, joy and long life are good. We know that God is good, and therefore the bad things don’t sit well with what we know of His character. If God loves the world as much as the bible says He does (and to demonstrate this love, sent His only Son to die in order that we might have life) it seems inconsistent that He would allow illness in those who love Him and ask for that illness to go. Yet we still see sickness and death. Hospitals are full. Pandemics are sweeping across the globe. Where is God in all this. 

Eminent theologians have sought to comment on this over the years. Opinion ranges from a cessationist viewpoint (God set it all in motion then stepped back and let us get on with it) to sickness is God’s judgement on the world who do not follow in His ways. My issue with that particular one is that why do those who do follow His ways still suffer? For those for whom anything not bowing to the name of Jesus when commanded to is simply not contemplated, there is little or no comment.

There are variations of these extremes across the board and denominational spectrum, but when it all comes down to it I think it is fair to say that our best guess is that suffering and pain breaks the heart of the Father even more than it breaks ours. There will be justice for what is suffered here on earth, but we may have to wait until eternity to see it. (I suspect that once there we won’t be quite as concerned with it as we are now.) 

The bible says that ‘He works all things together for good’. The best thing we can do is look for the good in all that we experience. To do that, it is very likely that we will have to put aside our preconceptions of how things ‘should’ be and accept how they are. 

Then ask Him – how is He making this beautiful? Especially if it doesn’t feel beautiful. 

There are countless podcasts, videos and books available that will tell us ‘what to do to get our healing’. Each will tell some sort of formula – pray more, fast more, worship more, and then you will receive your breakthrough. 

I believe that breakthrough is possible for all situations we find ourselves in but I also believe that formula is no replacement for relationship. Jesus healed all that came to Him not because He knew which prayer to pray, or when to lay hands or simply command, but because He lived His life in constant connection with His Father. 

Without offering that as simply another formula to be tried, I wonder if concentrating on our relationship with Him rather than trying to solve our problems is the answer that we have been missing for so long. 

I am certain that if we do that, while our situation may not change, our outlook on it most definitely will. 

link to song that inspired the post – Jason Upton ‘Hammer and an awkward nail’