Archives for 2012

The Great Time versus Money Dilemma. “Plain Living and High Thinking.”

The ultimate economy: Vegetable gardening in the snow!

Roy bought a wood chipper for £150, and is now chipping all the branches and twigs I have pruned, and two ornamental trees in sunny spots which we’ve cut down (heresy?) to replace with fruit trees

Hmm. It would cost us £12 a year for the Council to clear one bin of garden waste a fortnight. But how much to buy mulch? Or compost? And how much time wasted in weeding if we did not not use mulch–which I used to hate for its ugliness and unimaginativeness? So instead, we are putting our twigs and sticks and pruned branches, even ivy and leaves into our chipper, and out comes a fine wood shaving mulch, which we’re putting around our plants to keep weeds out.

A good investment? Probably. Because the mulch will become compost sooner or later, another economy.

* * *

When I was a young mum, everyone in my church in Virginia was reading a book called The Tight-Wad Gazette by Amy Dacyzyn. The book promotes frugality so that the mum can stay home with the kids, and the husband retires early.

Amy’s point of view was that jobs are for dummies, because of the costs of transport, work clothes, lunches out, take-away dinners bought by exhausted mums, stress and consequent disorganization and items bought to replace lost or broken ones; impaired health and immunity. She felt that if a mum stayed home, kept a notebook recording where things were cheapest, shopped for loss-leaders in four stores, and practiced frugality, creativity, and ingenuity, then one could manage on a single salary–and eventually no salary.

I found the thought that there was no better use of my time than shopping cost-effectively in numerous stores, buying in bulk and being frugal at home deeply offensive. I used to get so incoherently angry at the suggestion that this was the best use of a woman’s time (and time equals life!) that I probably did not make sense to the other mums who were reading and loving that book, and Mary Hunt’s Cheapskate book which was equally popular.

* * *

I find an emphasis on frugality stressful and spirit-cramping. When we decided to put our kids in private school and needed serious money, I started a business, a small publishing company.

I find it interesting and annoying that the literature aimed at Christian women stresses frugality and thrift, rather than businesses which employ leveraging (setting your time, talents, skills and money to work so as to earn the highest possible return on them).

Frugality and thrift, carried to an extreme, cramps my spirit; business I actually enjoy. Entrepreneurship is exciting for me, and creative; seeing opportunities and niches in areas I am interested in, books for instance.

* * *

However, Amy Dacyzyn had lots of nice ideas which we adopted. She says kids have as much fun getting involved in economically productive activities, like gardening or picking berries, as when playing with toys. In making real jam rather than playdough food. Our older daughter didn’t have much interest in the toys we got her–a dollhouse, a large play-kitchen, a train-set, ride-on toys, seesaws, swings–but loved planting, and harvesting things with us (harvesting flowers and veg. far too early, eating chilis raw, but hey, all part of learning!).

Roy began teaching Zoe to cook when she was under three. At first, she stood on a stool, watching him, and the skillet while he tidied up. And you could hear her squeak, “Booning, Daddy, booning,” when the entree began to burn. We impressed the importance of not touching hot dishes; she touched them, of course, and after that would warn us with big, wide eyes, “Fire. Hot.”

Zoe had as much fun cooking and planting bulbs (“I go help Daddy plant glubs,” she’d run up to explain to me) as playing with plastic toys.

She chopped veggies with Roy from the time she was three, occasionally cutting her fat little fingers. She was able to cook soups and pasta by herself at 9, and elaborate meals (roast duck with potatoes, stuffing and gravy) at 11. At 17, she is a superb cook, who can whip up anything from a recipe, and feels sorry for her friends who cannot cook pasta or muffins. So some of these theories, that fun can be had while learning life-skills, are true.

* * *

To return to that mulcher. Amy had a chart showing two families on a similar income. When there is extra money, one family goes out to eat, goes out to a New Year’s Eve dance, etc. The other family buys “capital goods” –chain saw, mulchers, composters, sewing machines which they use to save or make money.

The life-style of the two families ends up being vastly different. Within a couple of decades, the family who invested in capital goods has foreign holidays, a second home, a swimming pool; the first family, who had more fun in the short run had been riddled with debt all their working life, and landed up with meagre savings after a life-time’s work.

I saw that all the time when I lived in America, the life-style contrast between the grasshopper and the ant who earn the same income, more or less. And though the life style of the second family seems so dreary, they have more fun in the end.

* * *

So I suppose wisdom is the mean between extremes. Our family loves travel, and has been to many countries together, and those experiences have been enriching and educational, have increased our confidence because we’ve had to function in unfamiliar situations and countries, and have taught us much about human nature. Have taught us much about history, culture, and art. Been a source of joy. But one thing I cannot deny: travel is expensive, especially as one gets older, and roughing it is less appealing.

On the other hand, Roy and I hate waste, and for most of the year, try to find pleasure and joy and stimulation as low on the hog as we can–in walks, in nature, in gardening, in reading, in movies, and theatre and art galleries–and even in work!! And “the plain living and high thinking” for most of the years pays for these educational explorations and adventures.

* * *

So what should one value more, time or money? I think time is always more valuable than money (provided one is not in debt!) However, there is also much satisfaction and pleasure in creative economy, I say as I watch the coriander, parsley, salad, beans and zucchini I am growing from seed flourish, and the veg peelings in my composter become dark, rich earth.

The Christian’s First Duty: (Surprise!!) Happiness

By Anita Mathias

George Mueller writes in his Autobiography that the Christian’s first duty is to get his soul happy in the Lord.

“I saw more clearly than ever, that the first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day, to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not, how much I might serve the Lord, how I might glorify the Lord; but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my inner man might be nourished.

The first thing I did, after having asked in a few words the Lord’s blessing upon His precious Word, was to begin to meditate on the Word of God; searching, as it were, into every verse, to get blessings out of it; not for the sake of the public ministry of the Word; not for the sake of preaching on what I had meditated upon; but for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul.

The result of this is, that there is always a good deal of confession, my soul invariably is even sensibly nourished and strengthened and that by breakfast time, with rare exceptions, I am in a peaceful if not happy state of heart.”

* * *

Luther too treated the lack of joy almost as an emergency. “First, when I feel that I have become cool and joyless in prayer because of other tasks or I take my little psalter, hurry to my room and, as time permits, I say quietly to myself and word-for-word the Ten Commandments, the Creed, and, if I have time, some words of Christ or of Paul, or some psalms, just as a child might do.

· * * *

I have been reading The Gospel of John this year, (what a rich inspiring book) and have been struck that the Risen Christ’s first words, first commission, to his disciples, who basically had failed their Finals after three years of apprenticeship, was not a task, nothing to do with doing but with being.

“Peace be with you,” he says, and he offers those who failed, those who fled, those who denied knowing him, the friends who vanished, a gift, “Peace be with you. Receive the Holy Spirit.”

Why did he offer these fickle friends a gift? Oh, he couldn’t help it. Such was his nature!

* * *

Sometimes our faith is so doing-ey, so active. It can almost feel like a burden!

But it’s not meant to be like that. When Jesus, in the Last Supper discourse, tells his disciples the secrets of the universe, he is concentrating, interestingly, on their emotional states, their inner world. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God.” “Ask and you shall receive, and your joy will be complete.” “Peace I give you, my peace I leave with you.” He is not stressing doing, but the emotional states in which they are to dwell and linger. The joy, peace, trust and love which would prove that they were his disciples. His last injunctions were not about doing, but being.

I went through a rough period when my children were young. I was exhausted, my writing froze, my marriage was turbulent and tempestuous, and my house was a mess. I worked with a sense of stress, failure, guilt, falling behind, and not achieving goals.

I wouldn’t be able to work or live like that anymore.

Now, if I am upset, or angry, or sad or depressed, I basically don’t work. I pray, either while walking, or gardening, or tidying my house, or I just lie down and pray until sanity returns. Have a prayer-nap—i.e. pray until I drift off for a brief timer-regulated nap. (I know it sounds self-indulgent, and perhaps it is, but having trained myself to pray myself to sleep, it has become natural, and a quick way of returning to peace.)

I was cross and grumpy the other day, and it just took a short walk in our woods with all the birds singing (we are lucky to have a small wood/orchard as part of our property) to restore joy and well-being to my soul. Even Milton, most hard-working of poets, wrote that is an offence against nature to stay indoors studying in May, when nature is so gay!

I love writing, and I love blogging, but I guess it comes second to my own peace, happiness and joy, and when these have leaked away or are threatened, I just slow down and take the time to get my soul right with God before I continue with my day.

And believe me, I am far more productive as a result!

Changing your Life with Small, Leveraged Baby Steps

By Anita Mathias

A corner of my study. As you can see, I have too many books!!

Until four years ago, Roy and I were challenged housekeepers–with lots of clutter neither of us wanted to slow down and get rid of.

And when we moved from Williamsburg, Virginia to England, since Roy’s job was paying, I moved ahead to Oxford without doing any decluttering, and paid movers to go in, pack and ship everything to England. Which they did. Old magazines and newspapers, a garage of junk I’d meant to donate, and flip-top trashcans with trash in them. No kidding!!

Four years ago, we decided to get a weekly cleaner, and spend the 4-5 hours that the cleaner was here to put everything back in the right place, sort laundry, deal with paperwork, and declutter. Four years later, I still have about 15 boxes which came from America in 2004, which I haven’t unpacked, and loads of books to sort, organize and donate.

* * *

Yes, after four years, we are still organizing, finding a place for things, and getting rid of things which are neither beautiful nor useful in William Morris’s phrase. And each week, we get rid of more things, and find a place for more things. We are getting there—but with our current budget of 4-5 hours a week to tidy and put everything away, do housework, and declutter, it will take us at least another year, unless we put more time in.

And I’ve decided to make peace with that, make peace with steadily failing less each week, make peace with small gains.

* * *

I am struggling too with getting fit. And here too, I just have to be content with failing less, or succeeding slightly. With stopping gaining weight!! I’ve lost 5 pounds this year. 5 pounds in 4 months is hardly anything—but hey, it’s sure better than gaining 5 pounds! So I will rejoice and be glad in small victories.

* * *

I read this moving blog post recently in which the author sheds four bags of clothes, scarves, bags, jewellery etc. just from her wardrobe, before working on the rest of her possessions. She has also written about her attempts to lose her excess weight and regain fitness.

I’ve noticed a character syndrome—the same people struggle with all four or several of these weaknesses: They are overweight; they have trouble sleeping early and waking early; their houses are messy and cluttered, and they are frequently in serious debt. I struggle with the first three, and overspending has been a weakness in the past (though not debt).

It’s tragic. It’s a classic vicious circle, in which sleeping in steals your time to exercise and tidy your house, and the vim and spirit to declutter. The mess depresses you too much to exercise, and leads to comfort eating and spending. Being overweight depresses you so that you sleep more, comfort-spend and comfort-eat. And the debt worries you so that you comfort spend, and comfort eat. (Oh, Lord have mercy, and the good news is he does SO love and have compassion on these harassed and sad people, and I’ve been one, caught in this syndrome, except for debt.)

A mentor said about my overspending (which I have dealt with at least ten years ago) that it was because of emptiness. That if my soul was more full of God, I would need to spend less. And it’s true. As I’ve dived deeper into the holy depths of God, I never look at catalogues, rarely enter stores, except when on holiday, and rarely buy things, except books.

I wonder if over-eating, and over-buying are both attempts to fill an insatiable, hungry emptiness in our souls, a nebulous wound like Fisher-King’s undiagnosed, and so unhealed wound. And seeking healing and filling from God and his Holy Spirit is the quickest way to heal these syndromes. I do believe it.

* * *

The other interesting thing I noticed was that people who successfully tackle one aspect of this syndrome—who can lose weight, say, or get out of debt, or get their house orderly again, or wake very early, then have the confidence and drive to tackle other areas of dysfunction.

For me, beginning to tackle clutter probably increased my mental drive and confidence to take my small business into profit. And succeeding in business, conversely, increased my confidence in housekeeping and writing!

So Mary Hunt pays off $100,000 of debt, teaches others to do the same through her Cheapskate Gazette, and with her increased gain in self-confidence, loses 100 pounds of weight.

Flylady, Marla Cilley was overweight, depressed, over-spent, and her house was chaos. She tackles the domestic chaos in baby steps, and this gives her the confidence to tackle her weight, and her finances.

Don Miller loses over 150 pounds, which gives him the confidence to write lovely books, and inspire others to change their lives.

* * *

So if you are stuck, and your dreams are not materializing, choose one change (something which takes 5-15 minutes a day) just one, which you will make today, and stick to all month. Stretching, yoga, decluttering, sleeping or waking earlier are all changes with leveraged benefits. Next month, add another small change, which again takes 5-15 minutes. (Flylady is a good site for changing your habits and life in incremental baby steps.)

And where will this 5-15 minutes come from? Many changes are leveraged. They return more than the time spent. Exercise is one (you will feel better and happier, be more energetic, and sleep less). If the main areas in which you live and work are tidy, you will be more productive, and never have to look for things. And well, sleeping early blesses the whole of the next day!!

How to find the time for the new habits? Cut back or eliminate TV if you watch it. Turn off the internet when you write. For starters. Set timers when you are on the web for pleasure.

And what is my new habit going to be? Well, I do all my housework the day the cleaner comes, about 3-5 hours. I think I am going to add in an additional 15 minutes a day of tidying and decluttering, so that I get to my goal of a sparse house in which everything is either beautiful or useful far sooner.

Why I love the Spiritual Passive Voice

By Anita Mathias

When I was getting my Master’s in Creative Writing, there were some taboos. Adverbs! In fact, all unnecessary words–and the passive voice. This was how David Citino, my first writing teacher, memorably excoriated it. “The passive voice is an evasion of responsibility. It says the cookies were eaten. Not, I ate the cookies.”

* * *

But spiritually, I love the passive voice. I love the transference of ultimate responsibility.

Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me. Oh that’s too active! It makes me feel tired, inadequate, quite out of joy, worried that I am going to drop the cross, and go off and eat chocolate after a few steps.

And if that was all being a Christian was about—denying yourself, and taking up your cross, I wouldn’t feel capable of being a Christian. I would tell Jesus: “I love you very much. In fact, I adore you. You are the cleverest person I know. The way you suggest living is the very best way to live.”

“But you know that bit about denying myself, and carrying my cross? It’s too daunting. I wouldn’t have the energy to get out of bed. Or down the stairs.” (“Deny yourself and take up your cross,” translates into no chocolate, and doing laundry, and dishes, and cleaning and tidying the girls’ rooms in my mind.)

And so I just love the spiritual passive voice. Where continuance as a Christian is dependent on God’s goodness, and not on any muscular cross-carrying on my part–for I have no confidence in my stamina, resilience, or ability to persevere in that without crippling depression.

* * *

When the risen Christ appears to the disciples, He breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” And in that there is hope for the weakest of us to follow Jesus. We don’t have to grab the Spirit; we don’t have to earn it. We just have to receive it. And it is promised to us as often as we ask for it. (Luke 11:13.)

Much of the Christian life is actually in passive voice. Lovely things happen to us. We are chosen. We are adopted. We are redeemed because Jesus died for us. And we do precisely nothing to earn all this. We don’t fill ourselves with the spirit. We are filled with the spirit. We don’t give ourselves the gift of tongues or any spiritual gifts; we are given them. We don’t sanctify ourselves, make ourselves holy. How can we? Christ within us, the Spirit within us, slowly sanctifies us.

I know there is an active element to faith, Paul labouring mightily, but that has too much of a masculine feel for me for my spiritual temperament; it’s too muscular!

* * *

I find hope in the spiritual passive voice. I am now, in a slower time of my life, seeking healing for nebulous wounds I cannot accurately diagnose which have led to my seeking comfort and highs in food and sweets and crisps instead of God.

As I laid the wounds and callouses in my spirit bare in prayer yesterday, I saw two things.

Firstly, that I lacked the diagnostic or therapeutic ability to heal myself of these wounds I do not understand. Someone else, the Great Physician, has to do it for me. All I can do is bring my wounded spirit to God, and ask him to shine on it, touch it, lavish on it balm, honey, the word of God, and heal me.

Secondly, given that Jesus is who he is, nothing can stop him getting his healing hands onto my wounded spirit, working with it, touching it and healing it. And so, because of the goodness of God, I know the process of healing has begun. Because I have asked him to heal me, and because he is good.

If I had to rely on my own faith, my own endeavour, even my own prayer to be healed, and to live as a Christian, rather than on the goodness of God–ah, what chance would I have?

This is one of my favourite Matt Redman songs. “Who, oh Lord, could heal themselves, their own selves could heal?”

Hudson Taylor struggled mightily against his own sins and shortcomings, particularly in the hot, irritable climate of China. The spiritual secret of “resting in Christ” transformed his life.

Hudson Taylor writes to his sister, “ How then to have our faith increased ? Not a striving to have faith, but a looking off to the Faithful One seems all we need; a resting in the Loved One entirely.

Not by striving to have faith, but by resting on the Faithful One. Here, I feel, is the secret : not asking how I am to get sap out of the vine into myself, but remembering that Jesus is the Vine-the root, stem, branches, twigs, leaves, flowers, fruit, all indeed. Aye, and far more too! He is the soil and sunshine, air and rain-more than we can ask, think, or desire.

Let us not then want to get anything out of Him, but rejoice in being ourselves in Him-one with Him, and, consequently, with all His fulness.

The Lord Jesus tells me I am a branch. I am part of Him, and have just to believe it and act upon it. If I go to the bank in Shanghai, having an account, and ask for fifty dollars, the clerk cannot refuse it to my outstretched hand and say that it belongs to Mr. Taylor. What belongs to Mr. Taylor my hand may take. It is a member of my body. And I am a member of Christ, and may take all I need of His fulness. I have seen it long enough in the Bible, but I believe it now as a living reality.”

These are inspiring words for me. Just rest, trust in God’s goodness, trust in God’s healing. Just be a branch in the vine, let his sap flow through you. I find this as energising in my writing, as in out of my depth social encounters, or encounters when I travel.

And this is becoming a way of life for me, relying on God to get through the day. Relying on him for words and wisdom in my interactions with people, at church, in writing, or to speedily tidy the house before guests come, or pack before a flight. Living life depending on his power and goodness to help me. Living life in the passive voice.

When E.M. Bounds Taught Me About Prayer (A Guest Post by Stuart McCormack)

By Anita Mathias

Meeting E M Bounds

E. M Bounds

I was twenty years old when I first met Edward McKendree Bounds. It had been a quiet summer in Lerwick, and I often found myself with time to sit by the sea watching the waves crash on the rocks only a few meters from where I sat. I would sit for ages just watching the power of the sea and I guess there came a point when my thoughts came to an end. I began itching to read a good book!

Lerwick’s Christian Bookshop was the opposite of my perch on the rocks. It was quiet but it was crowded. On the shelves there was a host of books written by men and women long dead. Up to this point in my life, I rarely read a Christian book so I didn’t really know where to begin. Being Scottish, it didn’t take me long to find my tongue and ask for help.

The lady who ran the store was about seventy years old and she loved Jesus and she loved books. She was a most helpful, shining soul and began thumbing along the books, highlighting some that had touched her heart: Tozer, Ryle, Finney, Simpson, Bounds.

I was drawn to Bounds because her face lit up when she talked about him. She claimed that Bounds knew more about prayer than any other person living or dead, besides Jesus himself. I left the store with “The Necessity of Prayer” by E M Bounds.

The next day I sat on my shoreline rock, the waves frothing and the sun shining on my back, and I opened the book. Reading that day, I thought I’d slipped from time into eternity: time flew past with the turn of every page, but I did not notice. As I read Bounds’ words I became convinced that he was a man who not only wrote a lot about prayer, but who also was a devoted man of prayer.

Bounds entered ministry when he was in his twenties. He was a lawyer before that and he had a keen mind for information. His passion for truth led him into a deep relationship with the Bible. He was convinced that scripture held all the answers we need, a conviction which shows in his writings about prayer.

Bounds bases his writings upon years of Bible meditation and reflection and prayer. One of the reasons I liked Bounds from the first meeting (reading his book) was that he loved the Bible and wrote about the Bible. Jesus is at the heart of his writings! I learned from Bounds that if I wanted to know Jesus more, I had to come by the path of prayer, and that if I wanted to learn to pray more fruitfully, I needed to be walking closer to Jesus.

There was one point that Bounds made that transformed my own prayer life. Before Bounds I struggled with prayer (actually, I often still do). I came to a chapter called “Prayer and Desire”, and in it he wrote, “If you have no, or little, desire to pray, then pray for the desire to pray.”

I really liked that and I began to do it. I saw my desire for praying grow fast. I previously felt I had to pray, but now I was finding that I WANTED to pray; I WANTED to get to know God in the way that Bounds seemed to know God.

Bounds became a prayer mentor to me at a time when I needed a challenge and encouragement to draw closer to God. This is why I count his writings as some of the best on prayer and the deeper life with God. His writings reflect a man who was consumed in every way with prayer, and with God.

I wish I had met Bounds in person, but he died long before I was born. I only ever met him through his writings, but the imprint he left on my heart burns hotter than the warmest of handshakes. Without Bounds, I would have stayed on the shoreline of shallow prayerlessness, but Bounds taught me not to sit on the shores of God’s grace, but rather to enter into the power of his mighty presence and experience His love, grace and mercy in deeper ways.

I chose not to write about Bound’s life simply because better people than me have already done so. My hope in writing about my experience of Bounds is that one or two people might seek him out for themselves. There is a pretty accurate biography of Bounds on Wikipedia. I would personally recommend “The Necessity of Prayer” and “Power through Prayer”.

*******

Stuart

Stuart McCormack lives in North Yorkshire with his wife and three kids. He worked for the Church for 12 years and now spends his time mentoring troubled teens and thinking about how the world could be a better place. Stuart is passionate about mission, Discipleship, positive life choices and good curry. Check out his blog Missionalrev, or follow him on Twitter @missionalrev.

Beauty and God

By Anita Mathias

My opinionated daughters engaged me in a heated theological debate on beauty this week.

Irene saunters into my bedroom. Her beloved black and gold Tinker Bell pyjama top has a tear down the seam.

“Irene, throw it away,” I say.

She scrunches up her face, “NO,” she says appalled.

I hand her a needle and thread.

“Then, mend it,” I say.

“No,” she says. “It’s a pyjama top.”

I, “You are a daughter of a King. There is no need for you to wear torn clothes.”

She, appalled again, “He couldn’t care what I look like. He didn’t care what he looked like.”

Me, a bit uncertain, “You don’t think God cares what you look like?”

She, “No! He’d just look at my face.”

Me, “Oh”

* * *

Zoe, 16, agrees with her sister. She wore contact lenses for 2 days, then declared that they were too much hassle. “But, but, but…” I stammer.

My very appearance-conscious father used to joke, “Men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses” and got both his daughters contacts in our teens, my sister’s when she was ten!!

I can hardly say that to Zoe. I am, roughly speaking, a feminist, and have tried to raise them to be independent and self-confident.

Zoe, seeing me falter, adds, for good measure. “And I have decided not to ever use make up either.” I gave her a lovely triple layer make-up kit for her 16^th birthday, full of the most gorgeous gold, and bronze and silver and purples, which I would have had fun using as a teenager. “What?” I say. “Make up is fun; it’s like art; it’s like painting.” The fact that I rarely remember to use it probably undermines my words.

* * *

I thought of an argument I had with a close American friend of ours, who was a mentor to us when we lived in America around the time Irene was born. I had gained a lot of weight during that pregnancy and he—we had regular bi-weekly spiritual direction sessions over a period of 5 years– was urging me to diet and exercise.

Me, “I don’t think God cares what I look like.”

He, “Anita, when you write how you put it is as important as what you say. Your appearance is part of who you are.”

I somewhat bought his argument—though I have gained another 18 pounds since Irene was born in May 1999. Sigh!

Yes, God loves beauty, and so perhaps we should try to look as attractive as we can, given our starting point?

* * *

So how should a daughter of the King look? A story I heard the father of the friend I’ve just mentioned tell has influenced my thinking on the subject.

Jack Miller and his wife Rosemary who had founded World Harvest Mission were visiting Uganda. They come late to a meeting, and every seat was taken except the ones right in front, next to the President, Idi Amin. Rosemary nervously tells Jack, “I’ll sit on the grass.” “Jack says, “Rosemary, no! You are wearing a lovely dress. You are a daughter of the King. Be brave. We will sit in front.” And they go and sit next to Idi Amin, who is gracious to them.

This is a useful principle for me when I declutter. If something is too old, faded, stained, worn—whether an item of clothing, or furniture or household item, carpets, towels etc.—to be in the house of a daughter of the King, out it goes.

* * *

I don’t agree with Irene. I think God cares for his “original design” in us and wants us to fit and strong, and attractive in accordance with his original design for us. As is fitting for daughters of the King.

* * *

I noticed over the 17 years I lived in America that every female Christian leader and teacher was also slim and gorgeous. She would not have had much appeal to other Christian women if she had not been so. And so would not have been able to exercise her ministry as effectively

* * *

I have have theoretically acquiesced that my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and it is important to keep it fit. However, my resolutions falter on a weekly basis faced with chocolate, let’s say, or how much more magnetic my laptop is than weight-lifting. I guess the girls have picked up what I do rather than what I say.

* * *

I have two friends with the degenerative neurological disease, MND or Lou Gehrigh’s disease. They have speech and physical therapy. Their body will degenerate anyway—but fighting against it will so something to ameliorate the degeneration.

And so, if, despite trying, in fits and starts, to exercise and eat more healthily, I still gain a few pounds over a course of the year, I am trying not to be discouraged, but remember that if I did not, I could easily gain a few pounds in the course of a month—or week.

* * *

So what do you think? Does God care about what we look like? Would he like us to continue trying to look reasonably attractive—or is he mainly concerned with the beauty of our spirits?

Prayer Walking and Worshipping God in Nature

By Anita Mathias

I started prayer walking most days last month, and this has brought an unexpected dimension of joy, happiness, ecstasy and shalom to my spiritual life.

And being an inveterate reader, I have begun to research other people’s experience of God in nature.

Here’s a summary of the Worshipping God in Nature chapter of Gary Thomas’s book,Sacred Pathways.

We can choose to worship God “in the cathedral he himself has built: the outdoors.”

Any place that has some trees, and a stream, or at a minimum open skies can be God’s cathedral. Getting outside can literally flood parched hearts and soften the hardest soul.

The full force of Biblical imagery—phrases like “the river of life” or “green pastures” strikes us out of doors.

Most of the Old Testament theophanies, or appearances of God happened in a wilderness. God met Hagar in the desert, Abraham on a mountain, Jacob at a river crossing, and Moses at a burning bush.

Jesus himself was walking by the Sea of Galilee when he called his disciples to follow him. He taught in the countryside, and used its images—the birds flying overhead, the lilies.

However, worship has moved from Mount Sinai to the dark indoors. But when God created a paradise for the first men and women it was a garden with trees, and a river!!

Bernard of Clairvaux—“Woods and stones can teach you what you can never hear from any master.”

The famous ascetic, Anthony the Great, the first monk, born in AD 251, was asked, “How dost thou content thyself, Father, who art denied the comfort of books?

He replies, “My book is nature, and as often as I have a mind to read the words of God, it is at my hand.”

Nature, the school which never closes, is open when sermons and spiritual books have grown stagnant for us.

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Space flight is an effective evangelist. John Glenn, “To look out at this kind of creation and not to believe in God is, to me, impossible.”

Article 2 of the Belgic Confession says, God is made known to us by “the creation, preservation and governance of the universe, which is before our eyes as a most elegant book, wherein all creatures, great and small, are as so many characters, leading us to see clearly the invisible things of God.”

Spurgeon writes, “Oh, but surely, everything that comes from the hand of such a Master-artist as God has something in it of himself. There are lovely spots on this this fair globe which ought to make even a blasphemer devout. I have said, among the mountains, “He who sees no God here is mad.”

And creation in its floods, hurricanes, earthquakes and tsunamis also reminds us of God’s power and judgement.

Nature brings us rest

We don‘t always need a change; sometimes, we just need a rest, and being out in nature provides it.

Susan Power Bratton writes, “Experiencing the beauty and peace of God in nature is not a substitute for direct interaction with the regenerative powers of the Creator, but the mending and binding so necessary to heal our stress-filled lives may flow through creation. For the spiritually oppressed, or the socially injured, a pleasing or quiet natural environment can help provide spiritual release. Resting by a clear river, or sitting on a sunny slope can bring peace and joy into clouded souls.”

‎“Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush is afire with God; but only he who sees takes off his shoes. The rest sit around it and pick blackberries” Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“Now if I believe in God’s son and bear in mind that he became man, all creatures will appear a hundred times more beautiful to me than before. Then I will properly appreciate the sun, the moon, the stars, trees, apples, pears, as I reflect that he is Lord over and the centre of all things.” Martin Luther

Luther said it is only with the eye of faith that we see miracles all through nature, miracles that he believed were even greater than the miracles of the sacraments. If we truly understood the growth of a grain of wheat, he says, w e would die of wonder.”

Saint Bonaventure, a Franciscan Friar suggests a grid though which we may school ourselves to seek God outdoors. Look at the greatness of creation, sky, mountains, the multitude of creation, for instance, in a forest, and the beauty of creation.

Gary Thomas, “Walks that are truly helpful are those in which I lay down my own agenda at the first sign of grass, and let God lead my mind wherever he choses.” (And that the way that I have begun having my prayer walks too!)

Irene’s 13th Birthday

By Anita Mathias

Irene aged 13, did not trust her parents or her sister (aged 17) to make a cake for her birthday, so she planned, shopped for, and made her cake all by herself. Here is the result: