All our yesterdays

‘... the vision is for its appointed time, it hastens towards its end and it will not lie; although it may take some time, wait for it, for come it certainly will before too long.’ (Habakkuk 2:3)

I have so many questions half-buried in my mind. Doing my best to ignore them is part of the process of fitting into the routine, the company, or the form of expression with which I have become comfortable.

This can appear to make some sort of sense in the day-to-day happenings of my life, but most of these questions need bringing to the surface occasionally; they will not go away of their own accord, and cannot be made to fade into insignificance without first being brought into the open and answered honestly.

I am not alone in this. Indeed, I would be surprised if any man or woman is without their own doubts, discomforts or discontents; and those who truly believe otherwise are in far greater danger and have already lost far more than they will ever be able to comprehend. I dare to say this, because I know some part of what I have lost, and am conscious of how little I understand, through always being aware of my own half-submerged questions.

Finding the honest answers is not a matter of forcing ourselves into submission, as it were; attempting to implant what we perceive as the expected answers: the ones proclaimed by others as the only possible ones available to right-thinking people. We should not allow ourselves to bury the questions so completely that we forget them, and nor should we remain aware of our doubts and difficulties of faith without acknowledging them and pondering them. It is through our calm consideration of them, not through an anguished building of barricades against them, that we come to see them as they truly are. They are not enemies to be feared, hidden away from, or fought against; some of the consequences of bringing them to the surface may indeed disturb our peace and equilibrium, but the consequences of thought are not the same as the questions themselves.

Trying to learn more about our particular areas of difficulty, in an attempt to understand what we really believe and what we value sufficiently to openly profess, frees us to continue our journey instead of shrinking into immobility and a form of invisibility that keeps us unnoticed and untroubled. How could we ever believe that a desert can bloom if we do not see it for ourselves? And how shall we see it for ourselves if we remain with our heads buried in the very sand from which the blossoming will come?

We may give some thought to aspects of our faith without ever moving on in our knowing of ourselves. The matter rises and falls in our consciousness, but is never met full on: we never confront it; and, as with getting to know other people, and relating closely to family and friends, we need to meet our doubts and concerns face to face that we may see them, recognize them, accept and understand them more fully.

What do I believe? Where does faith lead me? What is faith? Do I have faith?

Such inner questions may once have troubled me in some way, and, in the past, more specific aspects of such blueprints and horizon-scanning thoughts have certainly been kept to myself. A combination of fear and shame locked them away as inadmissible secrets. Others were not allowed to know of my doubting when, apparently, everyone around me believed without question. How wrong we can be; how wrong I was. How many years have been lost in that all-enveloping self-deception? And yet they are not lost; they are never lost – for any of us. That we continue to regard them as being so, is evidence of an ongoing failure to appreciate the fullness of our relationship with God; and the extent of His gifts, so freely given into our undeserving lives.

However long the period behind us, and however short the time ahead may appear to be, those years have been our preparation for the steps we are asked to make today.

Remembrance (3)

‘... everyone should be quick to listen ...’ (James 1:19)

Military orders, whether verbal or written, are to be obeyed. Any person regarding themselves as part of one of the world’s armed forces accepts that fact as a basic and essential part of their existence. Whether having to respond to the written command shown at the head of the previous post, by travelling alone for 1,200 miles across North Africa, or whether obeying a spoken order in Afghanistan today, the response must be the same. The instruction has to be heard, understood, incorporated into one’s mindset and acted upon.

An absolute belief in the ‘rightness’ of whatever one is called upon to do, will undoubtedly make one’s immediate obedient response more straightforward than when that belief is absent. But where there is no such personal conviction, its absence is overridden by the transference of all certainties into one’s faith in those whose orders are being followed.

Such obedience can lead to otherwise impossible results, but, as Remembrance Day never fails to remind us, it is, always has been, and always will be very costly. The ‘war to end all wars’ never had a chance of coming close to ending war as part of the human experience; the human race has not moved beyond its belief in it, its support for it, and in too many quarters, its hunger for it.

It has only been in recent days that I have been struck by the similarity of that response to the one required of us as Christians: as followers of Christ. We are always to be awake: alert, and ready to respond to any calling to do God’s will, whether in some far-reaching, life-changing aspect of His will for us and for the world, or in our day-to-day lives among our neighbours and friends, those with whom we work , and with whom we travel.

Just as my father’s travel orders were both command and authorization, so too our instructions from God give us the authority to do whatever He may assign to us. The very same words apply: ‘You are authorized ... to carry out an assigned mission.’ We only comprehend the implications of this when we not only hear, but understand His Word, and incorporate it into our own mindset.

‘Humbly welcome the Word which has been planted in you ...’ (James 1:21)

We should do only that which we have been authorised to do, not simply what may appeal in some way; but we do have the additional stage of discernment to go through. Where our calling and subsequent sending out come from is not always as obvious as it is for military personnel. We are constantly called by a power that would misguide us; that will do whatever it takes to keep us from putting into action any thoughts we may have of working for the advance of God’s Kingdom. We have the freedom to choose, but having discerned the source of the Word which has come to us, we should respond accordingly, either rejecting it, or acting on it with no more hesitation than would the soldier, sailor or airman.

God may make his will known to us through the presence of others in our lives, but just as General Eisenhower was in command of the invasion of Italy, so God’s command still comes from Him, not from the one who brings the message to us;

‘... you must do what the Word tells you and not just listen to it ...’ (James 1:22)

If it comes from a known and recognized source: from Allied Force Headquarters, or through the guidance or prompting of the Holy Spirit, we should not spend time thinking about it, talking about it, questioning it; we should respond to it. If it requires something of us, we should not hesitate; we should do it.

It is in our ability to discern God’s Word and to act upon it, that we become aware that all previous steps along our path have been leading us towards that ability. From realizing that we have been the Found, the Named, and the Touched, and each of the other imagined followers (see 6^th January 07 …for the journey) through to the Empowered, we now find that we have become the Directed. God has strengthened us and shown us the way; and in our willingness to act according to His direction we wordlessly proclaim, “I shall obey you Lord.”

And thus we find ourselves at what we once thought to be a destination, but which is now greeted joyfully as a new start-point for our continuing journey. When we began, it had seemed so very far away: out of reach even; but now the journey seems to have been so short. And that has made real for us the value of having companions along the way.

We have narrowed down our choices, and in finding the compass bearing we were made to follow, we have entered into the realm of true freedom. We have discerned and chosen, and have no desire for any other way; the narrow way is wide enough for all of us.

Dear Lord, we thank you for your presence in our lives; you have waited so long for us to fully turn to You.

I welcome the blessings and responsibilities which come with being counted as one of ‘The Sent’.

You have commanded and sent me.

Do with me what you will.