Monthly Archives: May 2016

50: Idolising

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King Nebuchadnezzar made an image of gold, sixty cubits high and six cubits wide,a and set it up on the plain of Dura in the province of Babylon.” Daniel 3:1 NIV

The culture of celebrity is a huge deal these days, but at least none of the walking egos that deign to grace our tv screens and magazines have gone to quite the lengths of King Nebuchadnezzar to persuade people to worship him. I’m sure there are some celebrity “personalities” who would like to have a 90-foot statue of themselves built out of pure gold, but fortunately none of them have gone that far just yet. Give it time and one of them will.

The scripture itself doesn’t specify that the statue is of the King himself, only that he sets it up and requires its worship, so it may in actual fact have been a statue of one of the Babylonian gods. But for our purposes let’s imagine it was of Nebuchadnezzar. Was this pure ego, or was it a canny way to discover those amongst his people who would not fall down and worship at his say so? Was it a way of controlling the populace? State religions have always had that dubious honour.

What might that do to a person’s spiritual, physical, mental and emotional health, to be literally idolized in this fashion? I truly dread to think. And yet, we all do this to some extent. I mock the famous people I think are egotistical above, knowing full well I am no better than they. What right do I have to set myself up as judge over their behaviour? All measuring and judging comes from a place of smugness, or self-righteousness, or of a desperation to imagine ourselves better than someone else so that we can proclaim ourselves worthy or entitled. This is how the ego defends itself. And if the world tells you that you are right, by making you a king or an heiress or a billionaire, if the world watches your every move and records your image constantly, then this may well feed your grasping ego to the point where it nears bursting with pride, and where it feels completely natural and right to feel superior.

Religion can have similar effects. We only have to look at the Pharisees to see that. And there is an ugly kind of salvation smugness that believes itself now so incapable of sinning that it happily looks down its long nose at everyone else’s moral behaviour, and usually through a microscope. Let us never forget then, not even long enough to write a scathing opening paragraph, that we are each a child of God, beloved beyond ideas of merit, and that each life and path is so different that it is impossible and ill-advised to fall into any comparison. As soon as we do that, we start building that golden statue in the coldness of our hearts.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo from Pixabay of a golden statue of Buddha in Urumqi, China, not disparaging Buddhism, just wanted a picture that shows the scale of a large gold statue and surprisingly there aren’t that many about. J

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49: The Incurable Wound

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Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? Will you be to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail?” Jeremiah 18:15 ESV

 

As a chronically sick person, I can so identify with Jeremiah’s way of expressing his and Israel’s pain in this way. The help that doesn’t come is unbearable. Spiritual wounds can feel like this too, never-ending, incurable, seeping and festering.

In my prayer time today the Lord shared with me about the idea of a “soul wound,” a place in us where the enemy finds a potential weakness. He wounds us there, and keeps stabbing away at the same place over and over again, so that each time we think we have got a handle on it and found healing, it is opened up again and never gets a chance to truly be made well. We looked back over the toughest times in my life and I saw in a way I’ve not been able to comprehend before, that each time I was soul wounded, it happened in several similar areas. I wonder if this is the same for other people too? It could be a myriad of things. Loneliness, helplessness, disappointment, misunderstanding, cruelty, abuse, violation of boundaries, addiction, fear of commitment, running with the crowd. You name a weakness and it is doubtless exploitable. The thing is, if the devil can keep picking away at the scab, and sticking those places with any sharp object he can find, that place will become weaker and weaker and its defence non-existent. So we end up with a seemingly incurable wound.

But what I was also shown, was that each of these wounds is based on or around a lie which we can counteract with scripture. So, for instance, a false aim, like trying to be good enough for God to love you. The premise that you need to strive to be good enough is a lie. You don’t need to try, because you never will be good enough for God to love you. God loves you now, already, as you are. “But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.” (Romans 5:8 NLT) God does the doing in this relationship. “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NLT)

Another one might be finding yourself constantly misunderstood. The lie here is that no-one understands you. But God does.

You have searched me, Lord,

and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you, Lord, know it completely.” Psalm 139: 1-4 NIV

Unike Achilles, most of us have more than one dodgy heel, those places where a correctly thrown dart or spear can get under our skin and slow us down. To be sure of what they are, we can listen to the discouraging voices that appear whenever we resolve to do something good, kind or for God. These will most likely also be the same discouragements that try to tempt us away from God’s will. They nearly always have their roots, just as temptations do, in three kinds of misrepresentation. Misrepresentation of God’s word: “did God really say that?” asks the serpent, pointing out other verses and counting on us not to bother to check their validity, context or cultural relevance. Misrepresentation of God’s character: “is God really good? He wouldn’t have done that if he were! He wouldn’t have given me these parents, let that happen” etc. And lastly the misrepresentation of our identity and worth in Christ: “you’re no good, you’re not good enough, you’ll never measure up”, and at the other end of the worth spectrum, “I deserve better, I’m better than that, I don’t need to lower myself.”

Our countering must be swift in order to stop the rot. Just as Jesus came back at the enemy in the wilderness with a neutralising scripture as the antidote to his poison, so can we. Scripture is holy, God is good, there is no condemnation in Christ. And so for every wound there is a lie and many corresponding truths. If we can gather the strength to collect some of these scriptures together, we might make a poultice from their collective goodness, applying them often as a balm to those stubborn wounds. In this way healing can gradually come and the truth really can set us free.

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo from Pixabay

 

48: The Lonely God

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It was for me the day of vengeance;

the year for me to redeem had come.

I looked, but there was no one to help,

I was appalled that no one gave support;

so my own arm achieved salvation for me,

and my own wrath sustained me.

I trampled the nations in my anger;

in my wrath I made them drunk

and poured their blood on the ground.” Isaiah 63:4-6 NIV

No, your eyes are not deceiving you, I am using the same text as I did yesterday, because I have a little more to say. It’s about the things we see and don’t see. All of the commentaries I read about this section of scripture for yesterday’s piece emphasise that it is a messianic vision of Judgement Day, that Jesus is both the sacrificial lamb and the warrior figure. None of them mention the sadness that pervades the text.

If we look past the violent imagery in this prophecy, the overwhelming sadness and anger of the Lord is that he is working alone. He wanted help and support and there was none in the offing. This appals, or in some other translations, astonishes him. For this is our forsaken God, sad but nevertheless walking out in triumph. His fate is always to be left alone, forgotten, turned away from, left to do it all himself. And this is heart breaking. And it is as true in acts of judgement as it is in his lonely cry on the cross. And within this I hear a deep call to Oneness for all believers. For God has always and will always want us for his family, for his friends, for his children. But I wonder if there are some things, nevertheless, like a king or a general, that he must do alone.

But this surprise the Lord shows makes me wonder, might we then partake in the work of redemption? Would he have needed his wrath to sustain him if he had had company? Might the redeeming work have been done, or be done, a different way with help? Of course, the idea of prophecy is that it comes true, but there are times when it is used to spur change. Jonah prophesied the destruction of Nineveh, but because the city repented, God relented and the prophecy did not come to pass. This does not mean that the prophecy was in any way a lie, because it was what was going to happen when Jonah preached it. The outcome was changed by the action of the people and the heart of God. As Jonah says, “I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.” (Jonah 4:2 NIV partial).

So perhaps this image of our Lord striding home bloodied from battle might spur us into asking him how we might help, how we might ease his burden. In truth it seems a foolish thought. But if the Lord wants help and support, what might be prayed now or done now to offer him the succour and help that this scripture tells us he will one day long for? I know that the most painful times in my life have been when I have felt utterly alone, especially when facing a mammoth or uphill task, and so this piece of scripture makes my heart ache for God. He certainly does not need my help, but perhaps he would like it. And maybe if those of us who love him come together as true church as his bride, we might work together with him, working towards the redemption of the world, and at least willing to walk with our general when the battle comes.

 

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyattt

Photo from Pixabay

47: Vengeance

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It was for me the day of vengeance;

the year for me to redeem had come.

I looked, but there was no one to help,

I was appalled that no one gave support;

so my own arm achieved salvation for me,

and my own wrath sustained me.

I trampled the nations in my anger;

in my wrath I made them drunk

and poured their blood on the ground.” Isaiah 63:4-6

 

The prophet Isaiah speaks to us about “the Day of the Lord” which seems to roughly equate with the idea of Judgement Day. The day when the Lord will judge and punish and set things right. It’s a difficult concept for Christians, so used as we are to hearing about grace and redemption and atonement. But for the Israelites a day of vengeance was a powerful and often much desired thing.

And we might say too that so many terrible atrocities have happened, that surely they must be righted somehow, paid for? And maybe we try to imagine that Jesus’ death on the cross accomplished that redemption. But then we think about Auschwitz, Nagasaki, the Khmer Rouge, genocides, rapes and tortures, and we think, that is paid for? That is healed? We wouldn’t doubt the power of the cross out loud mind you, as I seem to be doing here (I’m not, by the way, read on), just in case someone gets the wrong idea or doubts our faith, you know. Because Jesus did it all, didn’t he?

Then why does Revelation talk about the end times the way it does, in violence and judgement? And why this prophecy, where the right arm of God wreaks his destruction? And why does Isaiah move straight from this visionary figure dressed in bloody robes into praising God for his kindness and compassion?

We clearly need to find a way to reconcile the crucified Christ with the avenging Christ. Or to accept that we in our small minds cannot cope readily with the seeming paradox. But should it surprise us that the God who loves paradoxes contains so many of them himself?

We struggle with an angry, triumphant Messiah. We are often taught that Jesus is meek and mild, the Good Shepherd, tending his flock, playing with children, finding the lost. And such he is on one level. But he is also the One to whom all power and authority has been given and he is coming again in clouds of glory to judge. And lest we forget, he had no problem fashioning a whip out of cords and chasing the moneylenders out of the Temple. We wonder at the rabbinic saying, “God is not nice. God is not your uncle. God is an earthquake.” And yet such he is. But as Elijah discovered, he is also in the soft, still voice after the earthquake.

Two ideas may help us here, particularly when people dismiss such passages by saying we are living under a new covenant now where all is forgiven and no vengeance is necessary. Well, yes we are, but John’s vision in Revelation shows that the final battles are still to come.

One is that I know, with a certainty I can’t put into words, that kindness and compassion are what motivates God. Always and without exception. He does nothing that is not for the ultimate good of those he loves. And by that I don’t mean some chosen few, but all living things on this earth. I also know that Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross was, is, a universe-changing action. It was more powerful and all-encompassing than our feeble words can express and our brains know how to hold. More than salvation, more than redemption, more than atonement (huge as these things are), this was a fulcrum event in space and time that began to solve everything.

Yes, what happened on the cross, God’s beloved dying in obedient love for this world, was like the epicentre of God’s grace earthquake. Its power will never stop echoing out, transforming and healing all things. And by this we can see that sometimes God’s answers are bloody and that they have yet to come to full culmination. When heaven comes to earth, all will be accomplished. The victory is already assured, but we are told that heaven will be birthed here and should expect labour pains. If we read his word at all or keep our eyes open in this life, we know that redemption often comes by suffering and resurrection requires death. So we also know that God does not look at death the way we do. And that both wine and blood, the trampling of grapes of wrath and of nations, are methods in the Old Testament that seem to find their own redemption into grace by the sacrifice Jesus made. That gall, that vinegar of the Lord’s anger was turned into the pouring out of blood, of a new kind of wine.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyattt

Photo Philip Jackson’s “Christ in Judgement”, Chichester Cathedral

 

46: Insurrection

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But I will put hooks in your jaws and make the fish of your streams stick to your scales. I will pull you out from among your streams, with all the fish sticking to your scales!” Ezekiel 29:4

This prophecy against the Pharaoh of Egypt firstly paints the allegory of his imagining that he is the King of the Nile, a great river dragon (crocodile), and then tells him how God will bring him down. At first I was puzzled by this picture of sticky fish, but it seems that this particular Pharaoh was unseated by an upstart who had the support of the Egyptian people. The fish in the river are his people, not as he thinks, his loyal subjects, but heavy weights, maybe even a parasitic burden in this imagery.

Even kings with great power may be unthroned, and if all the fish in the river get together, they can suffocate a crocodile. Earthly prestige and power may be foiled by the actions of the powerless. Again and again God shows us that he likes to use the lowly to bring down the mighty. The Magnificat contains one of the most beautiful, heartfelt expressions of this facet of God:

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:51-53 NIV)

 

We should never, then, despise the poor or the humble, but rather count them as world changers and tools of God. How often has the Lord used a shepherd or a fisherman, a prostitute or a teenager to kill the Goliaths of this world? We would be better counting ourselves among those at the bottom and the edges of society, among those the world says are unlikely to achieve anything grand, for with God anything is possible, and he loves to defy our closed minds and crack open our hard hearts.

 

Better a poor and lowly shepherd boy with a stone, a teenage soon-to-be carpenter’s bride, a stuttering outcast prone to seeing fiery bushes, than a proud and arrogant crocodile, thinking himself invulnerable in his scaled hide and protected by his great jaws, who then has these imagined strengths used against him.

 

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyattt

Photo from morguefile.com

45: Forgotten

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Yet my people have forgotten me; they burn incense to worthless idols, which made them stumble in their ways, in the ancient paths. They made them walk in byways, on roads not built up.” Jeremiah 18:15 NIV

You’d think if someone had rescued you from slavery, shown you a myriad of miracles, provided food and water for you in the desert, led you into new territories, helped you win countless battles and been present with you through the tough times and the good, that you would be hard pressed to forget them.

Yet this is exactly what the Israelites did to God. Now read that first paragraph again, thinking of yourself. Isn’t this also what we do to the Lord? He has given us salvation, miracles, provision, protection and help more times than we even know, and yet, is he the One before whom we set our praise? Or do other idols get more of our time and devotion? Is our work, our family, our money, our social life, our standing, bigger than God in our hearts?

It is never a bad idea to go into prayer asking these questions honestly of ourselves. There is invariably something that we have set up as a false idol, even if it is a skewed idea of God himself. Love must be our centre, our focal point, the fulcrum of all we do and live and believe.

It is oh so easy to fall away from that centre, to become engrossed or distracted by problems, circumstances, entertainments. But I do encourage us all to keep turning our faces and our worship, and perhaps particularly our gratitude, back to the Lord of all, who is the keeper and knower of our hearts, the maker and centre of our universe, the King of wonder and awe, the fount of all loving mercy. For there is nothing worth setting up before or ahead of him, and we do ourselves an injury every time we forget his glorious goodness.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyattt

Photo from morguefile.com

44: Exhausted

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I, Daniel, was worn out. I lay exhausted for several days. Then I got up and went about the king’s business. I was appalled by the vision; it was beyond understanding.” Daniel 8:27 NIV

Thinking I would be too tired today to write another entry (I write two on a Saturday so that I don’t have to work on the Sabbath), I thought I may as well use that and ponder exhaustion. I’m very familiar, thanks to my chronic illness, with physical and mental exhaustion and the emotional lability that comes with it. But in this verse, Daniel is suffering from yet another kind of being wiped out. He has vision fatigue. My diagnosis is spiritual exhaustion.

I’ve noticed that, even in my own small way as a mystic, with the revelations, pictures and words that the Lord gives me, or the intercessions that he asks me to make, that exhaustion or feeling very ill often follows. The same is true of any spiritual ecstasies. If we pay attention in our reading, we see that this is something that all men and women of God have experienced. It is almost as though we have to pay for the high with a low. Hildegard of Bingen suffered bouts of illness after visions, as did Teresa of Avila, and in the Old Testament we see this here with Daniel and also perhaps most dramatically with Elijah. After the great prophet has dealt with the priests of Baal with immense faith and energy, he is floored by a death threat and runs for his life, ending up completely exhausted and full of woes to the point of being suicidal.

The Lord’s response to this is encouraging, for he does not berate Elijah, and he continues to favour Daniel, as he did both these female doctors of the church. God understands what his faithful devoted servants suffer, and they are always allowed time to rest and recover from what they have done or received in his service. Elijah is brought cake and water by angels, and told he must recover his strength “for the journey.” It might have seemed an odd thing for God to tell him that there was more to do, but I think knowing that more purpose awaited him was helpful and motivation to this man of God laid so low. To know God has never finished with us is a great boon, and to know that it is okay to stop and recover ourselves, and that the exhaustion is normal, is also a big help.

Sabbath is all about this of course, and so Sunday for Christians and Friday sundown through to Saturday sundown for Jews is a sacred time for all, but perhaps especially for those of us who are worn out. Rest is part of God’s creation too, and he set us a great example in sitting back and enjoying his handiwork on the seventh day. If the Lord and his greatest prophets all needed a break, you can guarantee that the rest of us do too. If nothing else, we need time to step back from all we are doing in the week and evaluate what is good as well as letting the visions settle and mature before they run off with us.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Not sure where the photo is from – will come back and rectify this later 🙂

43: Trouble

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Yet man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward.” Job 5:7 NIV

Trouble sometimes takes a while to brew, we can almost feel it gradually rising, like the opposite of a flower coming into bloom. We steel ourselves perhaps, and try to prepare and protect ourselves. But there are other times when it comes upon us very suddenly, like a thief in the night, with no warning. We are hit whilst we are vulnerable, unprepared and shocked.

Bereavements, losses, betrayals, these can all be either long awaited, or horribly sudden. I am struck that these ways resemble the two biblical views of time: Kairos and chronos. Chronos is the seasonal, temporal, cyclical way of time, and Kairos is the sudden happening, the miracle “chance” meeting or opportunity. The flip side is that misfortune seems to work the same way, either building to a horrible nadir instead of a climax, or wrecking our lives in moments.

And whilst this is one of the incredibly positive and helpful comments made by another one of Job’s “friends”, Eliphaz, (seriously, you don’t want these guys anywhere near you when you are suffering), trouble is indeed pretty inevitable in this life. Chronos trouble we can kid ourselves about. We can believe we are getting prepared for a loved one to die, or a house to get repossessed, a business to fail or a child’s marriage to disintegrate, but in reality, when that wall crumbles, so shall we. Grief comes in so many shapes and sizes and I don’t care what the self-help guides and flow charts tell you, none of it is predictable. The only sure thing is, it’s going to hurt, and then some. And the Kairos pain, that feels like one of Wile E. Coyote’s anvils falling out of the sky? Yep, that’s going to hurt too. And both the trouble and the pain are pretty much inescapable.

So what do we do? Can we wall ourselves up against life, against the world? Well, we can try, but we’ll most likely end up trapped by our own fear and crippled by our own defence system. Really the best thing to do is to pray, and to live. Frankly, during some parts of life, getting through a day and still being able to breathe in and out at the end of it is a heroic and major achievement. But won’t God help us? Yes of course, and his companionship and his total understanding of suffering, grief and broken-heartedness will be invaluable. But whilst some problems can be avoided by asking for the Lord’s protection and grace, most of the time he will go through the trouble and the pain with us, not guide us around it. Because trouble and pain are crucial to the meaning of life we were talking about yesterday. If they weren’t, we’d be in heaven already. We learn to live with the cracks in our hearts and the holes in our memories and the pains in our bodies, and the loss in our souls. These are the deep dark places where hope springs eternal, and where grace creates a garden of beauty against a background of pain. This is where truth lives and angels abound.

 

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 NIV

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo from morguefile.com

42: Meaningless

flowers-190866_1920 by ADD pixabay

So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” Ecclesiastes 2:17 NIV

Dear old cheerful book of Eccles, how I love your honesty! It seems appropriate today, on day 42 of the Veil of Tears, to talk about the meaning of life. However you calculate it, as I sit here playing solitaire on my laptop because my brain is too tired to do much else, life seems pretty meaningless. But these sayings, often attributed to Solomon, are talking mainly about the pointlessness of striving or working for material goods, and the lack of purpose to a life lived solely for earthly rewards.

Indeed, we might say that making riches or fame your goal, since we all die anyway, is pointless. Ecclesiastes goes to great lengths to remind us that we cannot take it with us. In my case, there’s very little to take, and so it is not hard for me to think that meaning must have its seat somewhere else. If our final result is the grave or the ceramic jar, then there really is no point and we may as well live how we like and throw all cares to the wind the writer of the book says we are chasing.

We can all feel from time to time, that our lives are purposeless, pointless, meaningless. Even if we help others, we’re all going to die, so what does it matter? But within an eternal universe, every action and thought matter, however small, because everything is forming us for a different kind of existence. Sometimes the work is onerous and the things we go through seem too hard and of little import. But the Lord sees it all, and even the tiniest effort, made from, through and with love, matters.

But whilst we know this and we can talk forever about the wonders of love and how it makes meaning out of everything in life, the seeming good and bad, there are still those times of feeling utterly bereft and forsaken. When it’s all so tough and we just say within ourselves, what’s the point? I am having one of those moments as I write this. And I have to hold onto my mustard seed of faith and tell myself that this writing does mean something. That my life does matter. That I am making a difference. That my art, however little and unskilled it is, improves the world. Because everything that makes life better, everything that calls out the bright and the beautiful, the true and the good, is meaningful, even as it praises the maker of all things and as it brings more and more of his kingdom into ours, preparing our weary hearts and souls for a new way of being.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

photo from Pixabay

41: Worrying

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As for your donkeys which were lost three days ago, do not set your mind on them, for they have been found.” 1 Samuel 9:20 (partial) NASB

A man called Kish loses some donkeys. He sends his son Saul and a servant to go and look for them. They search for miles without luck and end up wondering if they should go home in case Kish stops worrying about the donkeys and starts worrying about them. But before they do, they seemingly quite randomly end up first consulting the Prophet Samuel about their journey. Unbeknownst to them, God has told Samuel that this young man is going to be the next King of Israel. The Lord tells him so in quite mighty and prophetic language, as you’d expect. When Samuel sees Saul and speaks to him, you’d think he would be full of that amazing prophecy and curious about the future king and so on.

But Samuel’s first concern is to put Saul’s mind at rest. He tells him that he will be fed, that he will have a place to stay for the night, that he will be told all he needs to know the next day, and that he can stop worrying about the donkeys. Does that blow your mind? It does mine. The man of God understands anxiety and worry. He knows that Saul is full of his task and that it is important to him.

Now, I am a first class worrier. I worry and I fret and I get anxious, I want to fix everything and I have a to do list a mile long in my head, most of which is impossible. Jesus telling me “do not worry” is probably the toughest thing he could ask. Worrying steals so much of my energy and my time, it verges on the ridiculous. Anxiety can actually be a really horrible thing, which is why I’m including it here in the Veil of Tears blog and why I will no doubt come back to it a few times.

Yet here is an Old Testament prophet showing us that God knows about the donkeys. He knows. He understands that they are taking up space in our heads. He wants us to know the score and that they are safe. Samuel doesn’t just say, don’t worry about them, he also says, because they have been found. Worriers need reassurance and facts to calm us down.

This is also reassuring to me because it shows that God cares about the things that distract us, about the things that loom large to us, however insignificant they might seem to others. It also shows us that there are old missions we can let go, that have run their course. I’ve known Christians (including myself) who have become miserable and distraught because of a quest they felt sent on many years ago not seeming to come about or bear fruit. Missing the boat is a feeling that sows guilt and sadness in our lives. But maybe in those cases we are looking at it all wrong. Maybe the Lord has already found those donkeys in our past and we can simply let them go. Maybe they were a way of bringing us to our Samuel.

Saul is a loyal son and he is not going to be able to concentrate on anything Samuel tells him whilst he has this quest on his mind. It shouldn’t really be a surprise to us that the one who made us understands totally how hung up we can get on the to do list, or the current problem, how much it can take over our consciousness. How uncaring we can make God in our minds sometimes! But the Lord loves to find the lost, as so many Bible passages tell us. Doesn’t this show us that he truly has it all in hand, that he can be taking care of it all: the worries, the future, the “chance” meetings, the mission ahead, who will be ruling the kingdom, the number of hairs on our heads and even those pesky donkeys, wandering about who knows where in the wilderness?

 

“All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;” J.R.R. Tolkein

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo from morguefile.com