Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

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On Eating Jesus

By Anita Mathias

I am the bread of life. Unless you eat my flesh, you have no life in you. John 6:35

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven.”

“This bread is my flesh which I will give for the life of the world.”
“Unless you eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood, you have no life in you.”

Astounding claims.

 In Mere Christianity Lewis famously says, “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on the level with a man who says he is a poached egg – or he would be the devil of hell. You must take your choice. Either this was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us.”Jesus claims to be that which sustains life, that which keeps us alive.  He might be saying that the occasional sense of deadness which is part of 21st century life, revealing itself in the epidemic of depression, is because we do not eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood.

The bread we need to stay alive is not in friendships, or social life, or motherhood, or marriage, or money, or gardening or success or work or other life-enhancers–it is in a continual communion with him, in literally eating him, drinking him.

I would love to know Jesus so intimately. How? Through devouring him Scripture, inviting him into my heart in prayer, and, most of all, and hardest, doing what I hear him tell me to do.

 

Filed Under: John Tagged With: eating Jesus, I am the bread of life

  Things can happen very quickly once we take Jesus into our boats    

By Anita Mathias


“The disciples got into a boat, and set out across the lake for Capernaum. By now, it was dark, and a strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed three miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I. Don’t be afraid.” They they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore.”

 

Often that is the case. There is a very simple solution to a seemingly insoluble problem, and when we ask Jesus, over many days or weeks sometimes, it presents itself.

 

Taking Jesus into our boat, as the Psalmist describes, was the turning point for people in their troubles.  Terrible things happened, then they cried out to the Lord in their distress, and things changed.

The missing secret ingredient in problem-solving is prayer.

I am running a small business, and as Bill Johnson mentions in his book “Dreaming with God” it’s amazing how precise and brilliant the instructions God gives you can be when you cry aloud to him in your distress.

And in other areas of life. Friendships, let’s say. It’s often most effective to keep one’s eyes open for open doors and God’s plans rather than to rush ahead, squandering one’s limited energy. See the patterns, see who wants to be friends with you; see who you want to be friends with; see what dots God is connecting. That will be far more effective than simply rushing ahead.

Sometimes, we go through a difficult time because God is working on our character. At other times,  however, we are forfeiting grace and wisdom because we have not prayed. When we ask Christ, he shows us the solution.

 O what peace we often forfeit,

 O what needless pain we bear,

 All because we do not carry  

   Everything to God in prayer.

 

Filed Under: John Tagged With: And immediately, blog through the Bible project, the boat reached the shore, The Gospel of John

Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold

By Anita Mathias


Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold

I love this poem. It is an early stream of consciousness poem, before the phrase was invented.I love the way this poem is an extended metaphor, how what appears to be a moonlight rhapsody, turns into a lament for lost faith

Arnold hears “the melancholy long withdrawing roar” of the tide ebbing from a pebbly shore. And in it, he hears “the eternal note of sadness” which, he says, Sophocles heard. (I love Arnold‘s assocations!)

It reminds him of the sea of faith which once was full, but now ebbs. It has ebbed from his own life, leaving him a world in which there is “really neither joy, nor love, nor light/ Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain” a bleak world in which “ignorant armies clash by night.” Divine love and wisdom being gone, the only hope is in the fidelity of human love.

 Hey, I am so glad I am a believer. Though my world does not have joy, love, light, certidude, peace and help for pain in every moment of every day, it often does–and for that I am grateful!

Dover Beach

by Matthew Arnold 

The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.


Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.


The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.


Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

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Filed Under: books_blog, Poetry

Interview with Isak Dinesan

By Anita Mathias

INTERVIEWER
I suppose that you began to write seriously there?

DINESEN
I did begin to write [in Africa] . . . But earlier, I learned how to tell tales. For, you see, I had the perfect audience. White people can no longer listen to a tale recited. They fidget or become drowsy. But the natives have an ear still. I told stories constantly to them, all kinds. And all kinds of nonsense. I’d say, “Once there was a man who had an elephant with two heads” . . . and at once they were eager to hear more. “Oh? Yes, but Memsahib, how did he find it, and how did he manage to feed it?” or whatever. They loved such invention. I delighted my people there by speaking in rhyme for them; they have no rhyme, you know, had never discovered it. I’d say things like “Wakamba na kula mamba” (“The Wakamba tribe eats snakes”), which in prose would have infuriated them, but which amused them mightily in rhyme. Afterwards they’d say, “Please, Memsabib, talk like rain,” so then I knew they had liked it, for rain was very precious to us there.

Read the entire 22 page inteview for free here 
http://www.theparisreview.org/viewinterview.php/prmMID/4911

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Filed Under: books_blog, Interviews with Writers

In which light is stronger than darkness

By Anita Mathias

.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. John 1:15

Light is brighter than darkness,
Goodness stronger than evil.
All the darkness in this world cannot extinguish a candle
but a candle brightens the most majestic hall.

All the darkness of the wild woods cannot quench a candle,
but that candle can set the vast woods ablaze.

Image credit

Filed Under: John Tagged With: Good/evil, light and darkness

Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret

By Anita Mathias

 If you’re pressed for time, there’s a briefer version of Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret here


CHAPTER 12–THE EXCHANGED LIFE 1869. 

Hudson Taylor and The China Inland Mission

IN the old home at Hang-chow Mr. McCarthy was sitting writing. The glory of a great sunrise was upon him.


” I do wish I could have a talk with you now,” he wrote, ” about the way of Holiness. At the time you were speaking to me about it, it was the subject of all others occupying my thoughts–not from anything I had read, not from what my brother had written even, so much as from a consciousness of failure; a constant falling short of that which I felt should be aimed at; an unrest ; a perpetual striving to find some way by which I might continuously enjoy that communion, that fellowship at times so real, but more often so visionary, so far off ! .. . 


Do you know, dear brother, I now think that this striving, effort, longing, hoping for better days to come, is not the true way to happiness, holiness or usefulness : better, no doubt far better, than being satisfied with our poor attainments, but not the best way after all. I have been struck with a passage from a book of yours left here, entitled Christ is All.


 It says, “The Lord Jesus received is holiness begun; the Lord Jesus cherished is holiness advancing ; the Lord Jesus counted upon as never absent would be holiness complete.


” This (grace of faith) is the chain which binds the soul to Christ, and makes the Saviour and the sinner one… .A channel is now formed by which Christ’s fulness plenteously flows down. The barren branch becomes a portion of the fruitful stem…. One life reigns throughout the whole.


” Believer, you mourn your shortcomings ; you find the hated monster, sin, still striving for the mastery. Evil is present when you would do good. Help is laid up for you in Christ. Seek clearer interest in Him. They who most deeply feel that they have died in Christ, and paid in Him sin’s penalties, ascend to highest heights of godly life. He is most holy who has most of Christ within, and joys most fully in the finished work. It is defective faith which clogs the feet, and causes many a fall.


This last sentence I think I now fully endorse. To let my loving Saviour work in me His will, my sanctification is what I would live for by His grace. Abiding, not striving nor struggling ; looking off unto Him ; trusting Him for present power ; trusting Him to subdue all inward corruption ; resting in the love of an almighty Saviour, in the conscious joy of a complete salvation, a salvation `from all sin’ (this is His Word) ; willing that His will should truly be supreme–this is not new, and yet ’tis new to me. I feel as though the first dawning of a glorious day had risen upon me. I hail it with trembling, yet with trust. I seem to have got to the edge only, but of a sea which is boundless ; to have sipped only, but of that which fully satisfies. Christ literally all seems to me now the power, the only power for service ; the only ground for unchanging joy. May He lead us into the realisation of His unfathomable fulness.”


August 21 : How then to have our faith increased ? Only by thinking of all that Jesus is, and all He is for us : His life, His death, His work, He Himself as revealed to us in the Word, to be the subject of our constant thoughts. 
Not a striving to have faith, or to increase our faith, but a looking off to the Faithful One seems all we need; a resting in the Loved One entirely, for time and for eternity. It does not appear to me as anything new, only formerly misapprehended.

Life was, if anything, specially full and busy, for Mr. Taylor at this time. He had returned from his journey round the older stations to an endless succession of duties that kept him on the move between Yang-chow and Chinkiang. Both were in a sense the headquarters of the Mission, and the growing church in the former and the demands of the printing-press in the latter filled every moment that could be spared from account keeping, correspondence, and directorial matters. There had recently been baptisms in Yang-chow, and Mr. Judd was glad of all the help Mr. Taylor could give in caring for the young converts. The heat of summer had told upon all the party, and Mr. Taylor himself had been laid aside by severe illness in the middle of August. Now, early in September, he was recovering, and trying to overtake the work that had accumulated. The Cordons had come over from Soo-chow to consult him about their movements ; the Duncans were on their way from Nanking for special conference ; others were coming and going on various matters, and there was a good deal of proof-reading on hand. Mrs. Judd also was dangerously ill, and required Mr. Taylor’s attention as a doctor. It was no time, surely, for an outstanding crisis in spiritual things!


Yet, oh, how deep the heart hunger, in and through all else ! That did not diminish. It seemed to increase, rather, with all the need there was to minister to others. Leaving a full house in Chin-kiang, Mr. Taylor had run up to Yangchow to see his patient, and was returning now alone by a little boat chosen less for comfort than for speed. It was early in the morning, and he was eager to be in Chin-kiang, where Mrs. Taylor was, in time for breakfast, so as not to lose a moment of the day for work. Coming down the Grand Canal and crossing the Yangtze (two miles wide) he had quiet for thought–thought and prayer. Were it not recorded in his own words it would be difficult to believe, certainly impossible to imagine, such conflict, suffering, almost despair in spiritual things in one who had long and truly known the Lord.  


Reaching the little crowded house at Chin-kiang, Mr. Taylor made his way as soon as possible to his room to attend to correspondence. There, amid a pile of letters, was one from Mr. McCarthy. We do not know if he was alone as he read it : we do not know just how the miracle was wrought. But-“As I read, I saw it all. I looked to Jesus and when I saw, oh how joy flowed !”

 As soon as he could break away from his glad thanksgivings, Mr. Taylor went out, a new man in a new world, to tell what the Lord had done for his soul. He took the letter, and, gathering the household together in the sitting-room upstairs, told out what his whole life was telling from that time onward to the glorious end
. 
Other hearts were moved and blessed ; the streams began to flow. From that little crowded home in Chin-kiang city they flowed on and out, and are flowing still-” rivers of living water.” For ” whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him,” Jesus said, ” shall never thirst but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.”


And he did more than tell. Pressed though he was with business matters, his correspondence took on a new tone. Here is one of the first letters written with that tide of joy and life more abundant sweeping through his soul. Books and medicines were needed from Yang-chow, and in sending for them Mr. Taylor gave directions so detailed that all needless tr
ouble would be spared. The pencilled lines on half a sheet of notepaper show that he was very busy-but how at leisure in spirit !



CHIN-KIANG, September 6, 1869.
MY DEAR SISTER-We had a very happy day here yesterday.
I was so happy ! A letter from Mr. McCarthy on this subject has been blessed to several of us. He and Miss Faulding also seem so happy! He says : ” I feel as though the first glimmer of the dawn of a glorious day had risen upon me. I hail it with trembling, yet with trust.”


The part specially helpful to me is : ” How then to have our faith increased ? Only by thinking of all that Jesus is, and all He is for us : His life, His death, His work,-He Himself as revealed to us in the Word, to be the subject of our constant thoughts. Not a striving to have faith, or to increase our faith, but a looking off to the Faithful One seems all we need.”


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. Not seeking for faith to bring holiness, but rejoicing in the fact of perfect holiness in Christ, let us realise that–inseparably one with Him–this holiness is ours, and accepting the fact, find it so indeed. But I must stop.


Returning to Yang-chow to see his patient, Mr. Taylor became the bearer of his own glad tidings.
” When I went to welcome him,” recalled Mr. Judd, ” he was so full of joy that he scarcely knew how to speak to me. He did not even say, `How do you do ? ‘ but walking up and down the room with his hands behind him, exclaimed
” ‘ Oh, Mr. Judd, God has made me a new man! God has made me a new man! ‘ “


That midnight conversation and the change that had come over his beloved leader greatly impressed the younger missionary. He too had seen these things theoretically, as so many do, without really apprehending them.


” I have not got to make myself a branch,” he could never forget Mr. Taylor saying. ” 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.”


Simple as it was, the new point of view changed everything.


” He was a joyous man now,” added Mr. Judd, ” a bright, happy Christian. He had been a toiling, burdened one before, with latterly not much rest of soul. It was resting in Jesus now, and letting Him do the work which makes all the difference! Whenever he spoke in meetings, after that, a new power seemed to flow from him, and in the practical things of life a new peace possessed him. Troubles did not worry him as before. He cast everything on God in a new way, and gave more time to prayer. Instead of working late at night, he began to go to bed earlier, rising at five in the morning to give two hours before the work of the day began to Bible study and prayer. Thus his own soul was fed, and from him flowed the living water to others.”


Six weeks after these experiences, when Mr. Taylor wrote to his sister, Mrs. Broomhall :


October 17, 1869: So many thanks for your long, dear letter…: I do not think you have written me such a letter since we have been in China. 
 I know it is with you as with me -you cannot, not you will not. Mind and body will not bear more than a certain amount of strain, or do more than a certain amount of work. As to work, mine was never so plentiful, so responsible, or so difficult; but the weight and strain are all gone. The last month or more has been perhaps, the-happiest of my life ; and I long to tell you a little of what the Lord has done for my soul. I do not know how far I may be able to make myself intelligible about it, for there is nothing new or strange or wonderful–and yet, all is new! In a word, ” Whereas once I was blind, now I see.”


Perhaps I shall make myself more clear if I go back a little. Well, dearie, my mind has been greatly exercised for six or eight months past, feeling the need personally, and for our Mission, of more holiness, life, power in our souls. But personal need stood first and was the greatest. I felt the ingratitude, the danger, the sin of not living nearer to God. I prayed, agonised, fasted, strove, made resolutions, read the Word more diligently, sought more time for retirement and meditation–but all was without effect. Every day, almost every hour, the consciousness of sin oppressed me. I knew that if I could only abide in Christ all would be well, but I could not.


 I began the day with prayer, determined not to take my eye from Him for a moment ; but pressure of duties, sometimes very trying, constant interruptions apt to be so wearing, often caused me to forget Him. Then one’s nerves get so fretted in this climate that temptations to irritability, hard thoughts, and sometimes unkind words are all the more difficult to control. Each day brought its register of sin and failure, of lack of power. To will was indeed present with me, but how to perform I found not.


Then came the question, ” Is there no rescue ? Must it be thus to the end–constant conflict and, instead of victory, too often defeat ? 
How, too, could I preach with sincerity that to those who receive Jesus, ” to them gave He power to become the sons of God ” (i.e. God-like) when it was not so in my own experience ? Instead of growing stronger, I seemed to be getting weaker and to have less power against sin ; and no wonder, for faith and even hope were getting very low. I hated myself ; I hated my sin ; and yet I gained no strength against it. I felt I was a child of God. His Spirit in my heart would cry, in spite of all, ” Abba, Father ” but to rise to my privileges as a child, I was utterly powerless. I thought that holiness, practical holiness, was to be gradually attained ‘by a diligent, use of the means of grace.’ I felt that there was nothing I so much desired in this world, nothing I so much needed. But so far from in any measure attaining it, the more I pursued and strove after it, the more it eluded my grasp until hope itself almost died out, and I began to think that, perhaps to make heaven the sweeter, God would not give it down here. I do not think I was striving to attain it in my own strength. I knew I was powerless. I told the Lord so, and asked Him to give me help and strength ;and sometimes I almost believed He would keep and uphold me. But on looking back in the evening, alas ! there was but sin and failure to confess and mourn before God.


I would not give you the impression that this was the daily experience of all those long, weary months. It was a too frequent state of soul ; that toward which I was tending, and which almost ended in despair. And yet never did Ch
rist seem more precious-a Saviour who could and would save such a sinner! And sometimes there were seasons not only of peace but of joy in the Lord. But they were transitory, and at best there was a sad lack of power. Oh, how good the Lord was in bringing this conflict to an end!



All the time I felt assured that there was in Christ all I needed, but the practical question was how to get it out. He was rich, truly, but I was poor ; He strong, but I weak. I knew full well that there was in the root, the stem, abundant fatness ; but how to get it into my puny little branch was the question. As gradually the light was dawning on me, I saw that faith was the only pre-requisite, was the hand to lay hold on His fulness and make it my own. But I had not this faith. I strove for it, but it would not come ; tried to exercise it, but in vain. Seeing more and more the wondrous supply of grace laid up in Jesus, the fulness of our precious Saviour-my helplessness and guilt seemed to increase. Sins committed appeared but as trifles compared with the sin of unbelief which was their cause, which could not or would not take God at His word, but rather made Him a liar! Unbelief was, I felt, the damning sin of the world yet I indulged in it. I prayed for faith, but it came not. What was I to do ?


When my agony of soul was at its height, a sentence in a letter from dear McCarthy was used to remove the scales from my eyes, and the Spirit of God revealed the truth of our oneness with Jesus as I had never known it before. McCarthy, who had been much exercised by the same sense of failure, but saw the light before I did, wrote (I quote from memory)


” But how to get faith strengthened ? Not by striving after faith, but by resting on the Faithful One.”


As I read I saw it all! ” If we believe not, He abideth faithful.” I looked to Jesus and saw (and when I saw, oh, how joy flowed!) that He had said,” I will never leave you.” ” Ah, there is rest ! ” I thought. I have striven in vain to rest in Him. I’ll strive no more. For has He not promised to abide with me-never to leave me, never to fail me ? “ And, dearie, He never will !


But this was not all He showed me, nor one half. As I thought of the Vine and the branches, what light the blessed Spirit poured direct into my soul! How great seemed my mistake in having wished to get the sap, the fulness out of Him. I saw not only that Jesus would never leave me, but that I was a member of His body, of His flesh and of His bones. The vine now I see, is not the root merely, but all–root, stem, branches, twigs, leaves, flowers, fruit : and Jesus is not only that : He is soil and sunshine, air and showers, and ten thousand times more than we have ever dreamed, wished for, or needed. Oh, the joy of seeing this truth! I do pray that the eyes of your understanding may be enlightened, that you may know and enjoy the riches freely given us in Christ.


Oh, my dear sister, it is a wonderful thing to be really one with a risen and exalted Saviour ; to be a member of Christ ! Think what it involves. Can Christ be rich and I poor ? Can your right hand be rich and the left poor ? or your head be well fed while your body starves ? Again, think of its bearing on prayer. Could a bank clerk say to a customer, ” It was only your hand wrote that cheque, not you,” or, ” I cannot pay this sum to your hand, but only to yourself ” ? No more can your prayers, or mine, be discredited if offered in the Name of Jesus (i.e. not in our own name, or for the sake of Jesus merely, but on the ground that we are His, His members) so long as we keep within the extent of Christ’s credit-a tolerably wide limit! If we ask anything unscriptural or not in accordance with the will of God, Christ Himself could not do that ; but, ” If we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us, and . . . we know that we have the petitions that we desire of Him.”


The sweetest part, if one may speak of one part being sweeter than another, is the rest which full identification with Christ brings. I am no longer anxious about anything, as I realise this ; for He, I know, is able to carry out His will, and His will is mine. It makes no matter where He places me, or how. That is rather for Him to consider than for me ; for in the easiest positions He must give me His grace, and in the most difficult His grace is sufficient. It little matters to my servant whether I send him to buy a few cash worth of things, or the most expensive articles. In either case he looks to me for the money, and brings me his purchases. 


So, if God place me in great perplexity, must He not give me much guidance ; in positions of great difficulty, much grace ; in circumstances of great pressure and trial, much strength ? No fear that His resources will be unequal to the emergency! And His resources are mine, for He is mine, and is with me and dwells in me. All this springs from the believer’s oneness with Christ. And since Christ has thus dwelt in my heart by faith, how happy I have been! I wish I could tell you, instead of writing about it.


I am no better than before (may I not say, in a sense, I do not wish to be, nor am I striving to be) ; but I am dead and buried with Christ–aye, and risen too and ascended ; and now Christ lives in me, and ” the life that I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, Who loved me, and gave Himself for me.” I now believe I am dead to sin. God reckons me so, and tells me to reckon myself so. He knows best. All my past experience may have shown that it was not so ; but I dare not say it is not now, when He says it is. I feel and know that old things have passed away. I am as capable of sinning as ever, but Christ is realised as present as never before. He cannot sin ; and He can keep me from sinning. I cannot say (I am sorry to have to confess it) that since I have seen this light I have not sinned ; but I do feel there was no need to have done so. And further–walking more in the light, my conscience has been more tender ; sin has been instantly seen, confessed, pardoned ; and peace and joy (with humility) instantly restored : with one exception, when for several hours peace and joy did not return-from want, as I had to learn, of full confession, and from some attempt to justify self.’


Faith, I now see, is ” the substance of things hoped for,” and not mere shadow. It is not less than sight, but more. Sight only shows the outward forms of things ; faith gives the substance. You can rest on substance, feed on substance. Christ dwelling in the heart by faith (i.e. His Word of Promise credited) is power indeed, is life indeed. And Christ and sin will not dwell together ; nor can we have His presence with love of the world, or carefulness about ” many things.”


And now I must close. I have not said half I would, nor as I would had I more time. May God give you to lay hold on these blessed truths. Do not let us continue to say, in effect, ” Who shall ascend into heaven, that is to bring Christ down from above.” In other words, do not let us consider Him as afar off, when God has made us one with Him, members of His very body. Nor should we look upon this experience, these truths, as for the few. They are the birthright of every child of God, and no one can dispense with them without dishonour to our Lord. The only power for deliverance from sin or for true service is CHRIST.”


And it was blessing that stood the test as the busy days
went by. Well might Mr. Taylor have said with George Miller of Bristol at this time : ” If I had strength to work twenty-four hours every day I could not half accomplish what is ready for my hands and feet and head and heart.” With him, too, he could have added : “Yet with all this, I consider my first business to be, and my most important business every day, to get blessing in my own soul-for my own soul to be happy in the Lord, and then to work, and to work with all diligence.”” 

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The Magical Moment in Which You Realize that You Are, or Will Be a Writer

By Anita Mathias

The Magical Moment in Which You Realize that You Are, or Will Be a Writer

Anne Sexton said she realized that she was a poet (I suppose she meant that she had the capacity to be a poet) while watching John Berryman read on TV.

It really a magical moment, the sort of moment in fairy tales when Snow White or Sleeping Beauty discover that they really are princesses.

My own moment came in two installments. In my early twenties I started writing poetry in a rush. And it was like,”Okay, I love this, I can do it. Not as well as Keats, okay, but well enough to give me, and perhaps some others, pleasure.”

My next moment happened several years later. I was reading a description of a family united around the consumption of gargantuan meals in Patricia Hampl’s “A Romantic Education,” and thought “Yes, that’s like my family. I can do this too.” Around that time, I read Annie Dillard’s “An American Childhood” about a bookish and privileged childhood in a steel town much like Jamshedpur, India, where I grew up, each chapter about a different passion or obsession, and I thought, “Yes, I can do this. And this is how.”

Life intervened in the form of two children, health issues, the need to work to pay for the girls’ private school education, but now I am back to writing happily, hoping to complete my memoir, and my slender volume of poetry.
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Filed Under: books_blog, Good writing, Memoir, Poetry

Cider with Rosie–A Perfectly Constructed and Exquisitely Written Memoir

By Anita Mathias

Cider with Rosie (Essential Penguin)Cider with Rosie–A Perfectly Constructed and Exquisitely Written Memoir

Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee

I am in the second or third draft of my own memoir, and have finally solved the problem of structure, I believe.

However, when you come across a memoir whose structure is sheer genius what can your jaw do but drop?

I have loved Cider with Rosie for well over a decade. Laurie Lee’s writing in patches is so exquisite, so perfect, it almost makes me want to cry with pleasure. He writes of his mother, of her invincible childlike gaiety and good nature, a kind, noble soul, betrayed and abandoned by the husband who was the love of her life, whose sudden death tilted her over into dementia, “Her flowers and songs, her unshaken fidelities, her attempts at order, her relapses into squalor, her near madness, her crying for light, her almost daily weeping for her dead child-daughter, her frisks and gaieties, her fits of screams, her love of man, her hysterical rages, her justice towards each of us children – all these rode my Mother and sat on her shoulders like a roosting of ravens and doves.”


Rilke writes to a young poet, “If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.” Lee’s childhood was provincial, disadvantaged, poor. There was no Eton-Oxford hothouse, no indication that he should or would become a writer. Yet become one he did. 


His childhood was lacking in the events which might provide a biographer’s chapters, unlike say Thomas Merton’s or Vladimir Nabokov’s, (two writers I’ve reviewed on this blog.) He therefore constructs his memoir as self-contained essays. “First Light,” setting the scene in his cottage in Gloucestershire, “First Names,” describing his family, and the characters of his village; “The Kitchen,” “Village School,” very mediocre at best, full of eccentric teachers; “Public Death, Private Murder,” of a murder of a bragging Kiwi, over which the entire village was complicit, and silent; Seasons, Relatives, Sex. 


All the staples of memoir–but irradiated and backlit by prose which, as Walter Pater says is true of all art, “aspires to the condition of poetry”. Never to be forgotten, that first long secret drink of golden fire, juice of those valleys and of that time, wine of wild orchards, of russet summer, of plump red apples, and Rosie’s burning cheeks. Never to be forgotten, or ever tasted again… The old people in his village are “ – white-whiskered, gaitered, booted and bonneted, ancient-tongued last of their world, who thee’d and thou’d both man and beast, called young girls ‘damsels’, young boys ‘squires’, old men ‘masters’, the Squire himself ‘He’ and who remembered the Birdlip stagecoach, Kicker Harris the old coachman…”


I have read it a couple of times, and listened to it read by Laurie Lee himself a couple of times. I would highly recommend the audio version. What Laurie heard in his head as he wrote Cider was music, the music spoken with a soft Gloucestershire burr, and the listening to the roll of his sonorous cadences is a delightful and memorable experience. 


http://thegoodbooksblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/speak-memory-by-vladimir-nabokov.html
http://thegoodbooksblog.blogspot.com/2010/07/seven-storey-mountain-by-thomas-merton.html

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Oxford, England. Writer, memoirist, podcaster, blogger, Biblical meditation teacher, mum

Looking at photos from our week in beautiful Sevil Looking at photos from our week in beautiful Seville and Cordoba over New Year with Irene, who had a week off.
And, ICYMI, here’s my latest meditation on the Gospel of Matthew… I’ve recorded it, should you want a few minutes of peace.
https://anitamathias.com/2026/04/29/gods-complete-forgiveness/
Hello Friends, I'm resumed recording my meditation Hello Friends, I'm resumed recording my meditations on the Gospel of Matthew. Do click on this link to listen. 
https://anitamathias.com/.../29/gods-complete-forgiveness/
Christ is the most influential figure in the history of the world, though his life ended in shame, humiliation and failure. But he so completely turned things round in his great reversal that the cross on which he died when all seemed hopeless is now the most common, and revered, symbol in history.
He emerged from and was anchored in Judaism. And as the sins of the people were laid on the scapegoat who was sent into the wilderness to perish, Christ died as the lamb of God voluntarily bearing the guilt of the wrongdoing of the whole world. He paid the price for our forgiveness with his life-blood--in accordance with the iron law of the physical and moral universe, of sowing and reaping, cause and effect. 
And so, God, who appeared as flames of fire to Moses, can now dwell within us, purifying us, whose hearts have darkness and shards of ice. 
And now that Christ was crucified, died, but rose again, His Spirit, no longer contained within his earthly body, is poured out like living water onto all humans, at our humble request. The Spirit pours the love of God into us; he reminds us of the words of Jesus and slowly writes Christ’s sweet law on our hearts. This transfusion of grace helps us do hard things we previously couldn’t do. Our dance with the Spirit gradually breaks the power of sin over us. It transforms us.
Now we, the forgiven, protected by the blood of Jesus poured out over us, and filled with His Spirit, who sings within us, Abba, Father, are adopted by God as his children in his joyful new covenant. We are cells grafted into the vine of our new family--Father, Son, Spirit—who now live in us as we live in them. As we choose by our thoughts and actions to continue living in the vine of Jesus, their energy pulsing through us makes us fruitful. And now, all our prayers which flow in the river of God’s good purposes are kindly heard. Waves of love and power flood from the cross! 
Thank you!
Well, hello friends! Breaking radio silence to let Well, hello friends! Breaking radio silence to let you know that I have taped a meditation for you on Christ’s famous Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25. https://anitamathias.com/2025/11/05/using-gods-gift-of-our-talents-a-path-to-joy-and-abundance/
Here you are, click the play button in the blog post for a brief meditation, and some moments of peace, and, perhaps, inspiration in your day 🙂
Hi Friends, I have taped a meditation; do listen a Hi Friends, I have taped a meditation; do listen at this link: https://anitamathias.com/2025/04/08/the-kingdom-of-god-is-here-already-yet-not-yet-here-2/
It’s on the Kingdom of God, of which Christ so often spoke, which is here already—a mysterious, shimmering internal palace in which, in lightning flashes, we experience peace and joy, and yet, of course, not yet fully here. We sense the rainbowed presence of Christ in the song which pulses through creation. Christ strolls into our rooms with his wisdom and guidance, and things change. Our prayers are answered; we are healed; our hearts are strangely warmed. Sometimes.
And yet, we also experience evil within & all around us. Our own sin which can shatter our peace and the trajectory of our lives. And the sins of the world—its greed, dishonesty and environmental destruction.
But in this broken world, we still experience the glory of creation; “coincidences” which accelerate once we start praying, and shalom which envelops us like sudden sunshine. The portals into this Kingdom include repentance, gratitude, meditative breathing, and absolute surrender.
The Kingdom of God is here already. We can experience its beauty, peace and joy today through the presence of the Holy Spirit. But yet, since, in the Apostle Paul’s words, we do not struggle only “against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the unseen powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil,” its fullness still lingers…
Our daughter Zoe was ordained into the Church of E Our daughter Zoe was ordained into the Church of England in June. I have been on a social media break… but … better late than never. Enjoy!
First picture has my sister, Shalini, who kindly flew in from the US. Our lovely cousins Anthony and Sarah flank Zoe in the next picture.
The Bishop of London, Sarah Mullaly, ordained Zoe. You can see her praying that Zoe will be filled with the Holy Spirit!!
And here’s a meditation I’ve recorded, which you might enjoy. The link is also in my profile
https://anitamathias.com/2024/11/07/all-those-who-exalt-themselves-will-be-humbled-the-humble-will-be-exalted/
I have taped a meditation on Jesus statement in Ma I have taped a meditation on Jesus statement in Matthew 23, “For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Do listen here. https://anitamathias.com/2024/11/07/all-those-who-exalt-themselves-will-be-humbled-the-humble-will-be-exalted/
Link also in bio.
And so, Jesus states a law of life. Those who broadcast their amazingness will be humbled, since God dislikes—scorns that, as much as people do.  For to trumpet our success, wealth, brilliance, giftedness or popularity is to get distracted from our life’s purpose into worthless activity. Those who love power, who are sure they know best, and who must be the best, will eventually be humbled by God and life. For their focus has shifted from loving God, doing good work, and being a blessing to their family, friends, and the world towards impressing others, being enviable, perhaps famous. These things are houses built on sand, which will crumble when hammered by the waves of old age, infirmity or adversity. 
God resists the proud, Scripture tells us—those who crave the admiration and power which is His alone. So how do we resist pride? We slow down, so that we realise (and repent) when sheer pride sparks our allergies to people, our enmities, our determination to have our own way, or our grandiose ego-driven goals, and ambitions. Once we stop chasing limelight, a great quietness steals over our lives. We no longer need the drug of continual achievement, or to share images of glittering travel, parties, prizes or friends. We just enjoy them quietly. My life is for itself & not for a spectacle, Emerson wrote. And, as Jesus advises, we quit sharp-elbowing ourselves to sit with the shiniest people, but are content to hang out with ordinary people; and then, as Jesus said, we will inevitably, eventually, be summoned higher to the sparkling conversation we craved. 
One day, every knee will bow before the gentle lamb who was slain, now seated on the throne. We will all be silent before him. Let us live gently then, our eyes on Christ, continually asking for his power, his Spirit, and his direction, moving, dancing, in the direction that we sense him move.
Link to new podcast in Bio https://anitamathias.co Link to new podcast in Bio https://anitamathias.com/2024/02/20/how-jesus-dealt-with-hostility-and-enemies/
3 days before his death, Jesus rampages through the commercialised temple, overturning the tables of moneychangers. Who gave you the authority to do these things? his outraged adversaries ask. And Jesus shows us how to answer hostile questions. Slow down. Breathe. Quick arrow prayers!
Your enemies have no power over your life that your Father has not permitted them. Ask your Father for wisdom, remembering: Questions do not need to be answered. Are these questioners worthy of the treasures of your heart? Or would that be feeding pearls to hungry pigs, who might instead devour you?
Questions can contain pitfalls, traps, nooses. Jesus directly answered just three of the 183 questions he was asked, refusing to answer some; answering others with a good question.
But how do we get the inner calm and wisdom to recognise
and sidestep entrapping questions? Long before the day of
testing, practice slow, easy breathing, and tune in to the frequency of the Father. There’s no record of Jesus running, rushing, getting stressed, or lacking peace. He never spoke on his own, he told us, without checking in with the Father. So, no foolish, ill-judged statements. Breathing in the wisdom of the Father beside and within him, he, unintimidated, traps the trappers.
Wisdom begins with training ourselves to slow down and ask
the Father for guidance. Then our calm minds, made perceptive, will help us recognise danger and trick questions, even those coated in flattery, and sidestep them or refuse to answer.
We practice tuning in to heavenly wisdom by practising–asking God questions, and then listening for his answers about the best way to do simple things…organise a home or write. Then, we build upwards, asking for wisdom in more complex things.
Listening for the voice of God before we speak, and asking for a filling of the Spirit, which Jesus calls streams of living water within us, will give us wisdom to know what to say, which, frequently, is nothing at all. It will quieten us with the silence of God, which sings through the world, through sun and stars, sky and flowers.
Especially for @ samheckt Some very imperfect pi Especially for @ samheckt 
Some very imperfect pictures of my labradoodle Merry, and golden retriever Pippi.
And since, I’m on social media, if you are the meditating type, here’s a scriptural meditation on not being afraid, while being prudent. https://anitamathias.com/2024/01/03/do-not-be-afraid-but-do-be-prudent/
A new podcast. Link in bio https://anitamathias.c A new podcast. Link in bio
https://anitamathias.com/2024/01/03/do-not-be-afraid-but-do-be-prudent/
Do Not Be Afraid, but Do Be Prudent
“Do not be afraid,” a dream-angel tells Joseph, to marry Mary, who’s pregnant, though a virgin, for in our magical, God-invaded world, the Spirit has placed God in her. Call the baby Jesus, or The Lord saves, for he will drag people free from the chokehold of their sins.
And Joseph is not afraid. And the angel was right, for a star rose, signalling a new King of the Jews. Astrologers followed it, threatening King Herod, whose chief priests recounted Micah’s 600-year-old prophecy: the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem, as Jesus had just been, while his parents from Nazareth registered for Augustus Caesar’s census of the entire Roman world. 
The Magi worshipped the baby, offering gold. And shepherds came, told by an angel of joy: that the Messiah, a saviour from all that oppresses, had just been born.
Then, suddenly, the dream-angel warned: Flee with the child to Egypt. For Herod plans to kill this baby, forever-King.
Do not be afraid, but still flee? Become a refugee? But lightning-bolt coincidences verified the angel’s first words: The magi with gold for the flight. Shepherds
telling of angels singing of coming inner peace. Joseph flees.
What’s the difference between fear and prudence? Fear is being frozen or panicked by imaginary what-ifs. It tenses our bodies; strains health, sleep and relationships; makes us stingy with ourselves & others; leads to overwork, & time wasted doing pointless things for fear of people’s opinions.
Prudence is wisdom-using our experience & spiritual discernment as we battle the demonic forces of this dark world, in Paul’s phrase.It’s fighting with divinely powerful weapons: truth, righteousness, faith, Scripture & prayer, while surrendering our thoughts to Christ. 
So let’s act prudently, wisely & bravely, silencing fear, while remaining alert to God’s guidance, delivered through inner peace or intuitions of danger and wrongness, our spiritual senses tuned to the Spirit’s “No,” his “Slow,” his “Go,” as cautious as a serpent, protected, while being as gentle as a lamb among wolves.
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