Easy Like Sunday Morning

Well, I had the most wonderful, lazy day yesterday. I didn't even wake up until about 9:30. Then I stayed in bed, in my pyjamas, on my laptop, all day. I did virtually nothing. True, I worked on my story, and I talked to a couple of friends, but nothing that required much effort. I just took it easy.

That's the sort of day that most people probably dream of when they hear 'Easy Like Sunday Morning' but that's not what I'm talking about today.

Last week I went on holiday with my mum and on Friday we visited a stately home. Just as we thought we were leaving, I spotted a spiral staircase. This made me very excited because I like stairs. And I got even more excited when I realised the stairs led to... a chapel. The conversation went something like this:
"Look, Mum, curly stairs!"
"Yes dear."
"Oh, wow, a chapel! I want a chapel! If I ever build a house like this, I'll make sure I have a chapel."
"That's a good idea. Then you wouldn't even have to leave the house to go to church."
"Umm... well... I don't anyway, really... cos of, like, omnipresence and stuff."
Articulate as ever, as you can see.

Now don't get me wrong, I love going to church. You just turn up on Sunday morning and your friends are there and God is there (and if you're lucky cake is there) and you have a really cool time. Unless you're on staff, it's easy. All you have to do is be there and let it happen. You go to the place where God is and then God comes to you.

I find it easier, on Sunday mornings, with everyone around me doing the same thing, to talk to God, to feel His presence. Church is the place where I can always find God, no matter how absent He seems in the rest of my life.

But a church is just a building. Mine isn't even a proper church. It's a sports hall. Instead of stained glass windows and paintings of saints, we have basketball hoops on the walls. Yet still I get that feeling that church is the place to worship God, the place to hear from Him. Because on Sunday mornings, it's easy.

Today isn't Sunday. And I'm not at church. But God is no less here, no less now. God doesn't live in a box. He is everywhere. He is as much in the floor as He is in the ceiling. You can experience God on your way to work, when you're in the shower, when you're shopping, when you're painting your nails and when you're biting them. There's no limit to the times and the places that God can show up, because He is already there.

My prayer for you is that you would learn to make every day - even Mondays - easy like Sunday morning. The more you seek God, the more you will find Him. The more you expect to see Him working in your life, the more you will spot His little miracles. God is not just at church, He is in every little detail.

Cos of, like, omnipresence and stuff.

The Rusty Fish-Hook That I Don't Want To Talk About

As some of you may have noticed, my blog post is rather late today. That's partly because I'm enjoying a lazy first day of holidays (whoohoo!), but also because I don't want to talk about it.

On the whole, I'm quite good at being vulnerable and open about my past. Last week I shared publicly about what my life was like growing up with depression. When people ask me questions, they often feel the need to remind me I don't have to talk about it if I don't want to. But it doesn't bother me. I'm generally quite happy to talk.

And that's because those things don't hurt me any more. The chains around my heart were broken and those wounds were healed by the love and mercy of my Saviour. They have no power over me now.

Except.

(And this is where I really don't want to talk about it. But we made a deal and He told me others will be blessed from this. So I will push on.)

Somehow, in the first couple of years of my faith, when we prayed over all the difficult things that had happened to me and so on, we missed one. At first, I didn't notice it. I was too busy marvelling in the joy and lightness that dealing with everything else had given me. And that liberation truly was amazing.

But gradually I began to realise that certain conversations caused me pain. It got to the point where if a particular topic was mentioned unexpectedly, I would physically flinch. Though I don't think they realised it, it began to affect some of my relationships with my friends and family. It had the power to make me miserable. 
I became aware that something had to be done about it, and I knew what that something was, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was too hard.

Until this weekend, finally, I was able to find some people I felt safe enough with that I could open up and become truly vulnerable. They helped me to confront the issue and talk, weep and pray through it. And it reminded me of the incredible meaning of the phrase "Freedom in Christ." Because yet again He has healed me.

The cause of all this pain was not some major trauma, some terrible event that is unforgettable for all concerned. I doubt the other people involved even remember it happening. The depth of the wound was not from the sharpness of the injury, but the way it had been allowed to fester and grow.

Our past hurts are like fish-hooks in our hearts, that the enemy can use to hang his lies on. And this particular fish-hook had become rusty. It was there so long I didn't even recognise it at first. But as more and more weights were added to the line, I began to feel it dragging me down.

When I was younger, Satan had his claws well into me. My day-to-day existence was founded on my lack of self-esteem and the untrue beliefs I had about myself. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile; he's called the father of lies for a reason.

When I became a Christian, God snatched me from the clutches of death and claimed me as His own. He vanquished, right then and there, the hold the devil had on me. I was no longer a prisoner of the lies any more.

But.

Old habits die hard. Sometimes the lies are so internalised that we don't realise they are there. Sometimes the fish-hooks are buried so deep that the heart tries to heal over them instead of letting them be removed. It's the way the barb is designed that it sometimes hurts more to take out than to put in. But walking around with hooks in you is just inviting someone to hang stuff on them.

I'm not the only person this has happened to. There are many of us among the healed, who are still hurting. Some of us have secrets buried, things we don't want to talk about. Sometimes it's too painful to even think about.

For me, it was not just the pain that stopped me talking, but the shame of not being the perfect, sorted-out Christian I thought I should be. I didn't want to admit (I'm still struggling to write this post and admit it to you) that I didn't have it all together. 
I didn't want to admit that I still have problems. That I'm not as pure as snow.

I believed when God first "fixed" me that I was all fine and dandy now, that I was gonna be perfect from then on and my life would be plain sailing. But it didn't happen that way and it's taken this weekend to make me realise that I need rescuing now just as much as I did then.

And this is the point where you might not like me any more. 
Because I might be about to say something you don't want to hear.

If this post is making you squirm, if you felt uncomfortable reading it but have nonetheless found yourself at the bottom of the page anyway, I would encourage you to go and have a little chat with God. It could be that you, too, have a rusty fish-hook that needs to be removed. Go and talk to Him about it. Ask Him if there is anything in you He would like to address, and how and when He wants to go about it.
I can tell you more about what I did, if you want, but you need to follow Him not me. I can only take you so far. Only He is the perfect leader. Go seek Him.

The Dreaded Blank Page... And the God That Is Still There Anyway

I don't know what to write today. I've been staring at this screen for 45 minutes. Please, God, what can I say? Ok, I resorted to Bible Roulette and this is what I got:

Praise the Lord.

Praise, O servants of the Lord,

praise the name of the Lord.

Let the name of the Lord be praised,

both now and for evermore.

From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets,

the name of the Lord is to be praised.

(Psalm 113v1-3)

So I'm gathering from this that I should praise the Lord? Well, I can do that.

My God is awesome. He made the stars. And the ocean. He invented cats. Not that I particularly like cats, but that's beside the point.

My God rescued me from the black pit of depression. Something I spoke about at church yesterday, but hadn't really remembered for a while. He took me from a place of unthinkable darkness and filled me with His light. And now He has placed me on a hill to shine out for all to see His glory. So that's what I'm gonna do.

A-ha! And now I see where the "inspirational" bit comes in.

I don't have to make my own light. I don't have to be like "Ta-da! Look at me I'm wonderful!" Which is great because I'm not feeling all that wonderful right now.

I can be the moon. The moon doesn't shine by itself. Instead all it has to do is reflect the sun. Simples. Except not.

Sometimes the moon is full and it can shine out this massive great light into the night sky. And that's brilliant and the moon probably loves those nights.

But at other times, things seem to get in between the moon and the sun, and its light is diminished. Sometimes the moon isn't shining at all. At those times, the moon might think,

"Where has the sun gone? I could see it so clearly before."

I know sometimes I feel like that. God seems to have disappeared and, no matter how hard I try, I just can't shine that well by myself.

But has the sun really gone anywhere? No. The sun is there and it is shining whether the moon can see it or not. And the same thing is true about God. Even more so. One day, the sun and the stars and all that stuff will boil away into space and stop shining. But God? God is everlasting. He was there before the beginning and He will be there after the end. 

So even when, like me, your inspiration has run dry, or you feel like you can't do it any more, or your circumstances are such that you just can't see God right now, 

He is still there.

Shining. Eternally.

I'd Rather Go Back To Bed

Do you know what I just realised? God can read your mind. I mean not just the nicely-worded prayers you think to Him, but all the other stuff that you're trying not to mention.

Right now, I'd rather go back to bed. I don't really fancy waking up at 6am and writing a blog. Neither do I feel particularly inclined to go to work today. It's gonna be sunny outside and I want to go sit in a field.

That's where I'm at today. Honestly. But I'd prefer not to tell you that. I want you to think that I'm dedicated and hard-working, that I'm humble and holy. That I get up every morning and joyfully serve the Lord. And if I told you that, would you believe it? Hopefully, on the whole, my words and actions support the nice, "Good Christian" version of me that I'd like you to see. But God? God sees everything.

Children can be annoying sometimes.
"Billy, you need to apologise to your sister."
"Why? I didn't do anything."
"I saw you hit her. You need to say sorry."
"I didn't do anything, honest!"
Infuriating.

What is the most annoying thing in that situation? I know Billy is lying. I have told him I know he is lying. And yet he is still lying to me. Doesn't he know it won't get him anywhere?

When is the last time you tried to lie to God? I did just now. I tried to pretend I wasn't worried about being late for work as a result of this post. Who was I kidding? No one. At least, not Him.

God knows you better than you know yourself. He knows your secret thoughts, your hidden desires. He sees everything. So you may as well be honest about it. Now don't panic. I'm not saying you have to share your innermost secrets with everyone. But with God, yes.

Lies put up barriers between you and God. He already knows about it anyway. Just be honest, be yourself. He made you and He loves you. Even when you'd rather go back to bed than serve Him. Do not be afraid of what He will think of you if you open up to Him.

For
"Even when we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

You have nothing to fear from honesty with God. And everything to gain.

Without Water, the Ocean is Nothing

I mean, that's obvious, right? If you took the water out of the ocean, all you'd have left is some dead fish and a whole bunch of salt. It wouldn't be the ocean any more.

I'm going through a 'spiritual growth spurt' at the moment, and one of the things I asked God to work on was my pride. Not that I'm a tremendously arrogant person. I'm not even as self-confident as the words I choose to speak make me sound. 
But every now and then I'd find myself thinking, 
"Wow, I'm good at this!" 
or "I've done some awesome stuff today!" 
or "Man, when did I get such a nice voice?"
And I didn't think those were properly humble thoughts.

And now I have two divergent ideas on where to take this...
Ok, I'm going to choose the "steal what the guest speaker said yesterday" route.

Without God, I am nothing. True. Fact. Something we try to remember to keep us from pride. Worship leaders are particularly known for this ("It was all God.") but it happens to all of us. Yes, I am nothing without God. Yes, God gave me my life, He gave me my talents, He set in motion the circumstances that led to this great thing that just happened that I'm trying not to feel proud about. No, I couldn't do any of it without God.

BUT.

I am never without God. He has promised to dwell in me, to fill me with His Spirit and to never forsake me. Just as it makes no sense to imagine an ocean without water, so there can be no me (or you) without God. I am as full of God as the ocean is full of water. Yes there's sand at the bottom, and it gets polluted every now and then, and I probably have one or two of those dark crevices where the scary fish with the lightbulbs live. The ocean of my soul is not perfect. But it is full of God.

It is important to remember that we are nothing without God, but don't stop there. Do not gaze upon the little worm you would be if you didn't have God. Focus instead on the One who gave up everything for you, so that you may be united with God and His Spirit may dwell in you.

I am nothing without God BUT I am never without God AND God has accepted me as one of His children, as a co-heir with Christ THEREFORE: 
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.