Those moments....

Recycling in hand I went towards the front door and before I got to it I looked out of my living room window and saw a girl getting up from where she had been crouching down just to the left of and in front of my hedge as she had inspected something that she had spotted in the strip of grass that runs between the road and the pavement. As she got up she had something about her that spoke of joy - that spoke of happiness - that spoke of those moments when we simply appreciate what is around us. She had a sparkle about her as she walked on in the early evening sunshine - the sunshine that seems to be more normal here than in anywhere else I have lived. 

And in her hand was the source of her joy - one bright red wild poppy - a weed growing in the right place to be seen as a flower. It sparkled in the sunlight and glowed on her face..... and I longed to feel her moment of joy with her. It made me smile. It made my emotions rise to the surface as I saw the joy she had in God's creation - in that wild poppy - that weed growing in the right place at the right time. 

It was the only poppy in the grass to the left of and in front of my hedge - I went out to look, a little disappointed that there wasn't one for me too. I wanted to hold onto that moment of joy she had, as, after a hard couple of weeks, I am craving a little bit of simplicity, a few moments of that simple pleasure of finding a bright red poppy amongst the grass that really could do with a cut - that bright red poppy that probably wouldn't even exist if the grass had been cut. 

As Trump arrives in the UK and as we are reminded of all the broken relationships that occur because of buildings of barriers and walls; as we hear of another act of violence that leaves someone in a critical condition or even dead; as we hear the horrific stories of people who have been left with nothing because of the brokenness of the Government implementing universal credit; as we face waiting for results and tests and the next dreaded piece of information, we need those bright red poppies that grow in the grass that nobody has cut. 

Because those small moments of joy - they are what keep us going. Those moments of joy when we find ourselves laughing at what seems an inappropriate moment, smiling like a reflex at what we have seen or heard, bursting into song when nobody is listening.... those moments of joy are what bring hope in the most difficult of situations..... those moments of joy show that it is not always going to be like this.... those moments of joy... they sparkle and the shine and they punch holes in the darkness. 

Those moments of joy give us hints of what the Kingdom of God is like - treasure buried in a field that is more than enough to change the world, a tiny mustard seed that grows into something so big the birds can nest in it, yeast that changes the flour so much it becomes the most beautiful loaf of bread, the tiny bit of dark chocolate that makes a chilli into a taste sensation, the little seed from a wild poppy that scatters and becomes the red poppy that brings joy to a girl walking up my road...... 

Look out of the window, because you never know what you will see. Seek out those moments of joy, because however small, they begin to make the challenges of life just a little bit more bearable, and as we collect them, as we gather them, as we share them, as we embrace them, they build up.....and those moments of joy will grow and be scattered amongst the brokenness - making bridges across divides, destroying barriers that stop us in our tracks, comforting those who are mourning, restoring what is shattered and falling..... and pointing the way to the one who promises a day when all of this will be no more. 

Lost in the shadows.....

At the beginning of the story of Peter Pan, Peter and Tinkerbell enter the Darling house searching for Peter's shadow. Their search wasn't exactly quiet, but it is Peter's sobs at being unable to find his shadow that wake Wendy and she asks:

"Boy........ why are you crying?"

Peter Pan was mourning the loss of his shadow. He saw it as part of him, what made him kind of ‘normal’ – something of his past that he wanted to keep as part of him. A trail of a former life. Where that shadow had been and what it had seen, perhaps he couldn’t remember, but the shadow was an important part of his life he felt he needed to carry, even if he didn’t know what it meant.

I have been reflecting on the Biblical story of Nehemiah which is a bit of an adventure story – a bit like Peter Pan but without the fairies. It is a story of discovery, a story of trying to find something that has been, even though the story is not clear. It’s a story of change, a story of discovery. It’s a story of coming home, even though the Israelites didn’t really understand where home was.

Nehemiah was a leader in Israel during a time of significant opposition. The Israelites are trying to find their home again in Jerusalem and face all sorts of rubbish. Nehemiah is a gifted administrator who can get stuff done, and he leads the Israelites in rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem so that they can feel safe in their home city.

Nehemiah's task, however, goes beyond the rebuilding of what has been before, to bringing the nation back to where their roots are founded – not in a place or a building but in God. Therefore, the first thing that happens once the building is finished is that Nehemiah gathers the people together to ‘read from the book of the law’.

Every morning the people get up, go and stand in the square, and Ezra reads to them, the priests explain it and then they split into groups to discuss it. This goes on for a week. The people are reawakening a tradition that had gone on for centuries before – where at the beginning of a new year, where, not the whole of the Torah, but passages from within were read out in public.

It was the first time of an old tradition. It was time for the people to rediscover their story – rediscover their place in history as the people of God. It is a reminder of the teaching of God and a telling of his covenant – a retelling of their very own story.

Our stories can be powerful and life changing. Our stories inspire us and remind us of who we are and where we have come from. Our stories spur us on.....

It's been a chaotic and crazy year for me and I have begun a new chapter in my life. My story has reached the time for a new sequel and as that happens I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the story so far....

Our stories are what make us. We all have our stories – our faith stories, our home stories, our church stories and they remind us of what has been, what could be and what will be. 

Our stories are our past present and future..... if we don’t tell the truth of our stories they become legends – embellished and not real; stories that speak of past greatness, of golden years, and we have got to always ask ourselves if those years were really much more golden than now, or are they a shadow we find in a drawer and sew on because the shadows of the past are much easier to understand than the unknowns of the future?

The Israelites thought they knew how great their story was – they thought they knew what God was going to do next. They thought they knew the story of a successful nation. They knew where they come from, they knew they were great in the past, and they had the possibility to be great in the future.

The glory days when Jerusalem sang, when people prospered, when peace reigned.

But then the story made them cry. Why? Why were they crying?

The glory days when Jerusalem sang – were they not as they expected them to be?

Why did the story make them cry?

Perhaps they were looking for their lost shadow – they realised they wanted to go back but knew that they couldn’t because too much had happened since. Maybe they wanted to sew their story back on, have an impact like they used to have it – perhaps their story was so far away from God’s story the shadow it cast hid away the work of God – their story as they’d like to see it was not something to be clung to.

When we tell our stories there is a danger that we get so caught up in our own past that we miss the fact that God’s story has moved in a different direction. We do that in churches – as we look back at the glory days, as we revel in our fullness, we think that we’ve got God’s direction sorted – we miss where we’ve walked off to a different rhythm..... we are so busy telling the stories of our past, we make legends that inform where we are today instead of coming to God’s word afresh. 

We’re living in a changing world, where God is still at work.... as we look at God we need to think (quoting one of my former tutors) – who is God, what kind of world are we living in, therefore what kind church is he calling us to be?

We need to try not to mourn for too long the loss of our shadow - that’s gone, this is a new start, a new beginning, a new world..... This is HIS day. There is a time for mourning – but we've not got to forget that there is a time for dancing too.

As we revisit our stories, we need to revisit them with our centres on Christ – discovering new things from the impact they made. As we retell our stories we learn of our roots, but that doesn’t mean we need to keep sewing our past back on - that makes moving forward more difficult......however golden our past is, it is not where we are now. 

Why are you crying? Stop mourning the past and look ahead. God is here, he is building now..... we need to remember the lessons learnt from history and learn from them, but not cling on to them or sew them back on - instead, we need to cling onto God and centre our stories on him. The next chapter - the sequel... has the potential to be so much more.

(and we probably need to begin to party a bit more....)

"Nehemiah said, "Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength"                                

Nehemiah 8:10