Anita Mathias | Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

A Beautiful Train Wreck into Grace

Sometimes, my tongue runs away with me, and I use my words to express anger and frustration rather than bestow grace and life, and those words steal life and strength rather than lavish them,

And I see the red flag of Jesus at the level crossing of my heart, and am stopped dead in my tracks.

But sometimes, I don’t stop, don’t listen to Jesus, and am out of control, a train rushing on…

I might eat whatever is quick and easy or delicious, rather than whatever is a blessing to my body.

Or my husband and I go on the attack

And there we go, rushing on, rushing on, knowing that no good can come from expressing runaway emotions, knowing that what one sows, one reaps…

On and on, we rush, speaking carelessly, smashing past the level crossing, speeding towards the onrushing train of consequences, heading for a crash.

And that’s when I understand grace.

For what I sow I should reap, right?

But that was before Jesus came.

* * *

My train hurtles on,

I drive recklessly, blinded by anger, negativity and despair

And Jesus sees that I am going to crash.

He steps in.

And still my train hurtles headlong; I am out of control. If I reap the consequences of everything I have sown, terrible things will happen.

But Jesus absorbs the crash in himself.

And I crash into grace; I crash into Jesus.

I am redeemed.

My marriage is redeemed

My mothering is redeemed.

Because of the grace Jesus died to give me.

Because of grace.

* * *

He keeps me on track, keeps my marriage on track,

Keeps me on the rails

Because he absorbed the impact at Calvary,

Of all this foolish, headlong sin.

Oh, I trust grace,

I trust mercy.

* * *

If the world were governed by dreary cause and effect,

And a woman could reap only what she sows,

Lord, who could stand?

But you stand between us and inexorable consequences

For this too we revere you.

For it’s not a mere mechanical world of crime and punishment.

It is a world of miracles.

It is the world of Jesus where he lives.

It is a world where Jesus stands in front of us,

Absorbs the impact of our bullet trains

Speeding at a million miles an hour towards self-destruction

He is smashed,

Rises,

And in that resurrection is hope.

For the risen Jesus now lives in me, restraining me

Helping me die to my wild self, making ever more room for the risen Jesus in me.

Helping me bear “in my body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in my body,” (2 Cor. 4:10).

* * *

Lord, sharpen my eyesight

Help me to see your red flags in time,

To repent in time

And when I do not,

When I crash,

Let me crash into grace!

The seventy times seventh chance,

The four hundred and ninetieth chance,

The infinite chances you lavish on me in the land of the living,

Grace for the asking,

The Holy Spirit for the asking,

Because you love me.

Have you experienced the inexplicable grace and goodness of God when you least expected it?

A Little Bit of Theology for Victims of Burglaries (Which, Alas, I Have Just Been)

By Anita Mathias

So my grandfather, Piedade Felician Mathias, a distinguished surgeon, had invested his life savings in gold jewellery, because gold in India then, as now, rose faster than anything else.

And my grandmother, trusting and sanguine as I am, left this on her dressing table. The maid vanished–as did the gold.

Everyone wanted my grandfather to report the maid to the Parish Priest, which in the interconnected Catholic town of Mangalore would mean that she would never get married in the church, and would eventually be caught.

He shrugged. My father, remembers him saying in the words of Job “The Lord gives, the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”

* * *

Many years later, when I flew to India, with Roy, my very-new husband, he, carelessly, foolishly, put my 24-carat gold jewellery in an unlocked suitcase—which did not arrive in Bangalore.

I was exasperated. “Roy, who puts jewellery in a suitcase rather than hand luggage? And what kind of person does not lock the suitcase?” I scolded.

“Sshh,” my father said, for he wanted my marriage to work. He told me the story of his father who said with Job “Should we accept good from the hand of the Lord and should we not accept evil?” when he lost his entire life’s savings to date.

I had recommitted my life to following Jesus a little before we married, 24 years ago, so I decided to echo my grandfather in the face of annoying financial loss. However, I put that missing suitcase on my prayer list—“even now”–and continued asking God to find it.

After 90 days, we got our $500 compensation form TWA. And on the 91^st day, a phone call. Roy had not bothered with an updated luggage tag, but there was an old one from Johns Hopkins University where he had got his Ph.D. TWA called Johns Hopkins, who gave them our current address in Stanford University, Palo Alto, where Roy was doing a post-doc. And we got the suitcase, 3 months later, and yes, all that pesky precious gold was still in that unlocked suitcase.

We live in a world of magic and miracles. Never forget that.

So we were richer by $500–and one lesson in trust and faith and miracles.

* * *

And my grandfather? Did good come from losing his life’s savings? Well, he no longer invested in gold, but in land, and died with three houses–two in the centre of Mangalore, and one in Cubbon Road, the posh heart of Bangalore, near the erstwhile Residency, now Raj Bhavan, the Governor’s residence; and the granite Vidhana Soudha, the state legislature–houses that when sold provided part of the down-payment for my first house.

He worked harder as a result of the theft, and realised more deeply that all his wealth came from God–for, unlike my scholarly maternal grandfather, he was a self-made man, who made a fortune through uncanny brilliance. When his private practice dropped, he’d scold my grandmother, “Josephine, are you giving? Give. You are not giving; that is why I am not getting.”

Home-grown prosperity theology perhaps, but it worked. People got sick; he cured them, they rewarded him lavishly.

* * *

So my theological question really is: Can everything work for good?

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that it can.

Though at times, this faith has been tested.

One amazing day on holiday in Sweden in August 2011 I felt God speak to me about my blog, and his plans for it.

And the next day, the camper van in which we were holidaying was broken into and we lost both our laptops, including the latest version of the memoir I am working on; another book I was working on which I have consequently abandoned (I hadn’t backed up my laptop for months); Roy’s laptop with precious holiday pictures; a new iPad, which sadly, didn’t even work in Sweden; and a couple of the girls’ iPods.

We did not report visible signs of breaking in, so the insurance did not cover it all.

2000-3000 pounds of loss! How could that work out for good?

* * *

Well, the burglary convinced me that when I felt Jesus next to me on the rocks at Gothenburg, Sweden, and turn and smile at me and tell me about the future of my blog, it was real. This was the consequent spiritual attack and undermining.

I had four more days on holiday, sans laptop, so I prayed for my blog, but could not work on it. And regrouping through strategizing in prayer is far better than working with brute force. For the want of a vision, the people perish.

The lost laptop recalibrated my habits. Though my husband, Roy, a Maths Ph.D with 3 post-docs had retired in 2010, I still did the business accounts, and our personal investing and finances, obsessively. I checked on our business sales daily. I could tell you our net worth to a penny, and moved money around investing everything optimally. I did not believe Roy would do this, so I did it myself, first thing in the morning.

My therapist thought this was a waste of the precious first thing in the morning hour, and so it was. What an uninspiring timewasting way to start one’s day, checking on credit cards and bank statements and sales—necessary when we were running our business with the slimmest of margins, but I continued it though we had been well into profit for nearly 3 years then.

So I turned the finances over to Roy, and it’s a weight off my chest, more brain space for writing and spiritual thought. He does not do money or business as I do—perhaps he does it better, perhaps worse—we argue about this when we are cross!–but we are eating and living. Well.

What good came out of the theft? I berated Roy to our therapist for his fail-safe, highly recommended method of protecting our laptops—throwing a towel over them—and for leaving the girls iPods in full view. And possibly leaving the van unlocked. The therapist said, “Well, he’ll never leave the car or laptops unlocked again.” And indeed he won’t. (Though he did not pay the 1 euro protection fee to the car-guarding people in Sicily this December and 2 of his favourite coats, and my least favourite coat were stolen from the trunk of our locked car!)

And I’ve saved scores of hours probably by no longer checking on our business sales or our personal finances. That hasn’t yet been converted to money—but, God willing, one day it will be.

* * *

Well, I returned from holiday in the Loire Valley at six a.m. yesterday, and walked into a nightmare.

My beloved Chrysler Town and Country mini-van that we had bought in American in 2001 was missing. Irene used to call it “the bupper van,” because I proudly said, “SuperMom in her SuperVan” whenever I drove it.

My front door was wide open. A door had been smashed in, and burglars had entered stealing our large screen TV, the first we’d bought; both my daughters’ laptops (we’d taken ours with us); both their iPods; Irene’s Nintendo Wii that she bought with her own money; my beloved black leather handbag; our silver cutlery set; Irene’s beloved costume jewellery–though all my valuable stuff I had, providentially put in a bank vault a few days before leaving.

The CID have been out, and the forensics unit finger-printing the crime scene,

Okay then, how does one process all this, from a God point of view?

1 God can bring good out of ANYTHING. Ask him to bring good out of your disasters and stand on the ramparts and wait and see what he will do.

The whole of Scripture which I believe is brilliant and inspired—from Adam and Eve’s choices; to Joseph rising from slave to premier; to Christ’s death releasing his very Spirit to live within us—is based on the premise that God can bring good out of evil.

2a We omitted to get contents insurance, foolishly. A false economy. We will now get it.

2B Irene who had a half term’s work on her stolen laptop will learn to back up. She had typed her notes in class; perhaps she will move to writing, then typing them at home, which is a form of revision and more theft-proof.

We will get the girls Macs which are more reliable.

3 Big benefit. Both Roy and I will work a little harder and hopefully smarter to earn money to replace all this stuff –a TV, 2 laptops, a handbag, etc.

I am a big believer in enough. We had enough to pay bills, so were spending more time in getting a bit fitter and a bit healthier, and spiritually stronger. But I guess we will work on making money till we’ve replenished our savings after replacing all this—and work settles the mind and heart.

4 We will practice trusting God. Just as physical fitness is theoretical until put to the test—running 3 miles, say, we do not know whether we really trust God until tested, by financial reverses, say.

Some things we only learn by practising them. Praise God in all circumstances. Rejoice always. In everything give thanks.

Learning and practising these things is no small gain.

5 We are reminded that our life is not really ours, anyway.

Our life is not ours; our body is not ours; our health is not ours, our money is not ours, our blogs are not ours, our time is not ours. God gives us these things, God can take them away.

Our health, our wealth, and our success is in God’s hands. The money to buy all the stuff that was stolen we acquired through God’s blessing on our endeavours. We will continue aligning with him, continue asking him to bless the work of our hands.

6 It’s a great opportunity to practice humour.

I greeted the police with, “Forgive us; our house is not normally this messy.”

And everyone laughed.

We are dealing with this annoyance with ironic humour, a great coping tool.

7 And we will practise being happy in the Lord anyway, because we still dwell in the fountain of God’s goodness and mercy and it still flows.

We will rejoice in the steady goodness of God, because God can bring good out of even this. We will learn rejoicing by practising it.

So what is the proper response of the victim of a burglary?

My children are a bit frustrated with how calmly I am taking it –but it’s this:

Be at peace. Possess your soul in patience. Let nothing disturb thee. Let nothing affright thee, in the words of Saint Teresa of Avila.

Worship the Lord who has given so many good things

Worship the Lord who can turn all things to good.

Be at rest, oh my soul.

P.S. Please pray we recover all our stuff.

Image Credit

Have you ever been the victim of theft or burglary? How did you cope?

In Which I Have Never Been Instantly Healed, But Have Always Been Healed

By Anita Mathias

I have never witnessed a verified physical healing. Never spoken to anyone who had experienced one themselves, following prayer.

And I have never experienced an instantaneous physical or emotional healing as someone prayed for me.

However, I have never yet NOT been at least partially healed of anything I have gone up front to be prayed for.

* * *

Bill Johnson spoke at New Wine 2008 about the miraculous physical healings he’d witness and “performed.” And so, though I had at that point been blessed with good physical health–no chronic illness, hospitalizations, surgeries, broken bones, and normal cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar etc.–I joined the throngs, for perfect physical health is rare, and if there was power going forth, well, I wanted to be part of it.

I went forward for a bothersome niggle—itchy ears with fluid drainage, which were irritating and occasionally got painfully infected, so much so that I couldn’t go to parties or sleep well. And a sweet Californian lovingly placed her hands on my ears and prayed. And I thought I would surely be healed—but, alas, I was not.

Three years later though, on reading Rick Warren’s Daniel Plan, then online, I read that itchy ears, with fluid drainage are a symptom of food toxicity—and can be eliminated by eliminating sugar and white flour. I did. And after 12 years of irritation, pain, doctor visits, meds for ear aches—bingo, healed. (Though it flares up with sugar and wheat, alas).

An answer to my prayer?

Yes, I do believe so.

* * *

In 2008, I was on Prozac. My life felt hard. I had an experience of emotional and spiritual abuse in a charismatic Anglican church, which then had a toxic culture.

Unconsciously numbing myself, I worked obsessively at a family business which wasn’t captivating (though it enabled my husband to retire from being a Maths Professor, and run our home two years later).

Anyone who has been depressed will recognise the vicious circle, which makes me tearful to even think of it. The horror, the horror. My house became cluttered and messy, and I didn’t have the energy to get it together. I wasn’t exercising, and was comfort eating—quick and easy—and rapidly gained weight.

My memoir proposal had been turned down by an agent in 2006, and I got bogged down in revisions, and had lost deep soul-confidence that the book I was writing would be published. I had lost faith, hope and love!

I was suppressing my writing and creativity which were so much a part of me that they were me. Each thing says one thing and the same, what I do is me, for that I came, as Gerard Manley Hopkins put it.

Hello, Prozac my old friend.

I believe in anti-depressants as a step-stool to get out of vicious circles and deep pits. And equally importantly, I believe we should seek cognitive help and continue seeking till we have found adequate help, spiritual help if that is sufficient, and psychotherapy if it isn’t. I have used both professional and non-professional help, spiritual counselling, friendships and psychotherapy, and benefitted from both, equally.

Anyway, the same sweet Californian told me that she had been depressed, and then was healed, like that–she snapped her fingers– and prayed I too would be healed like that–snap.

Well, how would I know that I was healed, except by going off my anti-depressants? Which I knew one is never supposed to do, cold turkey, but which I did. My brain and emotions now limped like a snail in fog. I was dead inside, dead to all but making money, which I mechanically made, made, made.

The church, which had been so toxic and poisonous for me, had a speaker on depression at a women’s breakfast. Who is depressed? she asked, and scores of hands flew up, some among them the women who had been the nastiest to me. (Wounded people wound—and so, we MUST find help for our woundedness.) I went up for prayer, told the story of going off meds and deeper creative and emotional sadness. Yeah, that whole period was my “great sadness” in the evocative phrase from “The Shack.” Talked to her, decided to go back to Prozac.

Eventually, my self-confidence returned. I became over-confident, confrontational, out-spoken, a bit aggressive, perhaps. But I am nice and sweet, really! I realized that the depression had lifted, and I was now on serotonin overload. And I wanted a few friends left at the end! I tapered off completely–for good I hope. Farewell, Prozac my old friend. Farewell, depression.

That prayer at New Wine was answered—a year later.

* * *

(Which brings me to perhaps the only instantaneous healing I’ve received, though I didn’t realize it at the time. The day I began blogging, April 11^th, 2010, I went forward for prayer for adrenal fatigue and exhaustion at a healing service at that charismatic church and the rector laid his hands on my head, and prayed for a revelation of divine love, and I felt something go through my brain, electricity, honey, and I was healed from the adrenal fatigue which had plagued me for years, and could write for hours, longer than ever, ever before. This happy state of affairs has continued. Without that, I might not have been able to muster the considerable and consistent energy it takes to blog successfully.)

* * *

Two more stories. I had a really painful shoulder last autumn, and asked for healing at a Revival Alliance Conference. A group gathered around me, English, as well as West Indian Brits, who sung over me in the most beautiful melodic tones that reduced me to tears, and then asked with absolute faith, “It’s better, isn’t it?”

I assented. Who would have had the heart not to?

But it wasn’t.

I resumed yoga. Yoga increases mobility a micro-millimetre or so each consistent session.

And that shoulder pain? All gone!

* * *

Last story. Until last year, like a child, I had resorted to chocolate, cookies, crisps, or take-away when a family member stressed me, or my writing didn’t go well, or I was bored or sad or stressed-out or happy or wanted to celebrate. It had become the way I dealt with emotion. And, of course, I steadily gained weight

I went up to request healing in the emotionally charged atmosphere of the Cwmbran Revival. And I heard Jesus say, “Honey, you are in charge of what you put into your mouth. Honey, don’t. Honey, rise, take up your pallet and walk.”

The healing continues. Wounds are healed when exposed to the air and light. So it is with emotional stuff. Name it, analyse it. Sit with the pain, don’t numb it. That’s how healing comes.

Have I been totally healed since that day?

Not completely.

But I am certainly on the journey, breaking the bad habit of emotional eating through many means of grace: prayer, reading, talking to friends and a spiritual director, and strategy.

When I want to eat something sweet or salty but am not physically hungry, I put my timer on for an increasing amount of time, before I do. Generally, the urge passes.

I interrogate my heart, “Oh silly heart, why do you want chocolate? To raise your blood sugar and get your heart beating faster? Will a walk do it? Will prayer for the comfort of the Holy Spirit do it?” That works sometimes.

And sometimes, I have chocolate!

* * *

If anyone is in Christ, she is a new creation. But when Roy and I recommitted our lives to Christ, in our twenties, we struggled with our weaknesses and unhelpful habits, as we still do—(but less so, and many, many have been overcome). However, the new life was within us, growing, growing, stronger and stronger, colonising us, possessing us, gradually changing us.

And that is the way healing works sometimes. God is good and he answers prayer—gradually, sometimes. I have been healed of four of the things I went up in the eager throngs to request prayer for. The last, emotional and comfort eating, I am in the process of being healed of.

* * *

About five months ago, I had surgery for colon cancer, which was perhaps my only instantaneous healing. My physical strength was diminishing day by day, and, more scarily, my concentration, my emotional strength, my sleep, everything. And then I had surgery, and my strength has been steadily increasing over the last five months, as measured by the distance and speed of my walks.

But one day, when I am hundred perhaps, I may request healing for a dodgy heart, and Jesus may smile and say, “No, child. Not this time. It’s time!”

And while I sleep, my heart too shall sleep—forever.

And then, as now, He will be what He has been all my life, the times I have perceived it, and the times I have not—good.

* * *

Have you experienced physical or mental healing following prayer? Tell me your story!

How Forgiveness Unlocks the Goodness of Life: A Guest Post by Carmel Thomason

By Anita Mathias

Against the Odds

As a journalist I meet all kinds of people. I usually want to make people look their best. Sometimes it’s harder, because some people don’t help themselves. They’ve already decided all journalists are sour people who want to focus on the worst aspects of life. There are people who make it clear that they don’t want to talk to me in case I write about them, and then take umbrage when I do what they want and ignore them. Usually these are people who have nothing interesting to say anyway.

And then there are people who have such an amazing story to tell that meeting them has changed my view of the world.

Ray Rossiter is one of those people. I first met Ray when I called him about an exhibition that the Imperial War Museum North was hosting about the experiences of prisoners of the Japanese during World War II. Lots of men were interviewed for that exhibition. They all had fascinating tales to tell, but there was something about Ray that stuck with me. It was in the small things. For example, some men understandably said that they could never eat rice again after their experience. Ray said: “I love rice, it kept me alive.”

When I spoke to Ray he asked if I was going to visit him. Given the time constraints of my news desk I couldn’t. Then he told me that his wife had dementia and he was the sole carer. I realised that he probably wasn’t getting out of the house much at all, so I said that while I couldn’t visit him in work time, I would go to see him. I suppose I went to his house the first time because I felt sorry for him and his situation, but as time went on Ray was to touch my heart in a way that I could never have expected.

As a journalist I was used to people calling me to ask me to fight their corner, seek justice for a wrong done to them, even if it was simply to expose it. I’d hear people describe anything from a cross word between friends to the most heinous of crimes as unforgiveable. Yet, here was a man who had suffered unimaginable wrongs and he carried no bitterness. As Christians we talk about forgiveness all the time, but it can feel quite abstract. When we actually witness it lived out, as Ray is doing, it is life-changing.

When Ray talks about the war he says: ‘I felt that God was there all the time, his love shining through the actions of men, one for another. He was there in every kindness, every act of compassion – it is how we survived. It was often said: “It’s every man for himself in here,” but in reality nothing was further from the truth. We depended so much on one another for encouragement, morale-boosting and in numerous instances for our very survival.’

The friendships Ray forged in those adverse times were ones which were to last a lifetime. The men he knew then, men who could be cheerful under the most appalling circumstances, were not men who could let bitterness eat into their souls and he didn’t like to see hatred consuming them in this way. It was a big ask, Ray more than anyone knew that, but he wanted to encourage them, for their own sake, to forgive.

‘Even years later it was a taboo subject among our fellows and it wasn’t an easy thing to get across because it’s hard to comprehend just how much there was to forgive,’ he says. ‘We came out of captivity breathing fire and vengeance against the whole Japanese race – all of us believed at that time that it would be impossible ever to forgive them. Yet while every instinct may be screaming at us to hate them for what they did, we have to stifle this natural impulse. We can’t go on hating forever. The happiest people are those who can find it in their hearts to forgive.

“Peace within a person is where it all starts, because the actions of nations are merely the actions of men writ large.”

We can speculate forever about why things happen or why some people do terrible things, but we rarely find the answers we seek. Jesus showed us another way and people like Ray are showing it is possible.

* * *

Thankfully, he’s not alone. Since meeting Ray I’ve met many people who have made forgiveness in a reality in their life. All of them share a desire to make the world a better place, one in which these huge wrongs might never happen in the first place.

It’s a vision that is shared by the Restorative Justice Council, which give victims the chance to tell offenders the real impact of their crime, and holds offenders to account for what they have done, enabling everyone affected by a particular incident to play a part in repairing the harm and finding a positive way forward.

It was through the Restorative Justice Process that Joanne Nodding was able to meet and forgive the man who raped her. She says: ‘Did I hate him? For a while afterwards you could probably say that I did, but you can’t go on living with hate in your heart forever. Well, I can’t anyway. I’m not a person who feels hatred. That feeling isn’t me, or it’s not the me I recognise, and it’s not the me I want to be. Besides, hating him is not going to change what happened.

‘I could sit here, thinking, “God, why has this person done this to me?” Or I could say, “God help me to forgive and help him to have a better life”. Everyone can change and everyone deserves a chance to change. As I see it, I could either hate him for the rest of my life or I could forgive him’.

I can’t begin to understand what Ray and Joanne went through, but the goodness they reflect through their capacity for forgiveness makes me want to live a better life. They’ve made me think about how many opportunities I have each day to either forgive or not, to let go of pain or to let it weigh heavy in my heart.

Do I need to focus on a throwaway remark from a stranger so that it spoils the rest of my day? Can I be more loving, grateful and less critical? Can I focus on the good in people? What I’ve learned is that life can be messy, but we are all given choices every day. In choosing to forgive we are choosing a life of love and gratitude.

Against the Odds: True Stories of Healing and Forgiveness by Carmel Thomason is published by the Bible Reading Fellowship.

Carmel Thomason

Carmel Thomason is a Manchester based writer. She has written Every Moment Counts: A Life of Mary Butterwick (DLT); collaborated with the Archbishop of York, writing the stories for John Sentamu’s Faith Stories; and has contributed to The Way, The Truth and The Life series published by the Teacher’s Enterprise in Education.

In which God Multiplies Our Creativity, Our Time and Our Talents

By Anita Mathias

Image Credit

I have no difficulty in believing the Gospel accounts of healings, but the feeding of the 5000 leaves me dazzled. Now how exactly did that happen?

However, it’s easier to believe it than to believe that Matthew, Mark, and John, eyewitnesses, were deliberately lying.

So, though my rational mind boggles, yes, I believe it happened– without understanding exactly how it happened.

* * *

There is a similar miracle in the Old Testament, where Elisha feeds 100 with 20 loaves, and there were leftovers–and there are contemporary accounts of similar multiplications.

Heidi Baker (subject of this sensitive and adulatory Christianity Today cover story )says this in an interview.

Q–You’ve seen a type of miracle that is not mentioned in Jesus’ earthly ministry, but He did do something similar – the multiplication of food to feed a crowd. In your case, you witnessed the multiplication of Christmas presents. What happened?

Heidi Baker—That only happened once.

However, we’ve had the food multiplied many times. And it’s just super-exciting every time. We always cry. And we don’t test God. We buy as much food as we can. I knew God would multiply food. I’d seen him do it. But I thought it would be a little over the top for Him to multiply presents. That was my theological background kicking in.

I love to give gifts. I was giving out Christmas presents one year in southern Mozambique on a 120-degree day. I sat on a grass mat, looking each child in the eye, loving and blessing them. My staff had worked for months on getting all the presents together. I don’t even know how many we had, maybe a thousand or so gifts. The homeless were there and the street kids were there and all of our own children were there.

We were getting to the end of the line and our teenage girls were now in the queue. A helper, who happened to be a psychiatrist, was next to me. Her name was Brenda. I was thinking of John 15 and I just looked at one of my own girls and said, “What do you want?” The psychiatrist really got ticked off and said, “I told you, there are stuffed dogs in the bag.” I knew the girls didn’t want old second-hand stuffed dogs. I said to the girl again, “What do you want?” A couple of the girls yelled out, “Beads. Beads.”

I just prayed, and I looked up to the Lord and said, “Brenda. They want beads.” She reached in and started screaming, “There are beads in the bag.” She started sobbing. Some people from Argentina, who saw it happen, started jumping and screaming. My Mozambican helpers did the same thing. We were all sobbing and pulling out beads. That was a powerful experience. We had also counted something like 24 wrapped checkerboards and gave out twice that number.

* * *

It’s the old Lewisian trilemma again— A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic–on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg–or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. (Mere Christianity, Chapter 7).

So perhaps Heidi is a lunatic, but lunatics do not care for 5000 children; or a liar, but someone so radiant with the love of God as Heidi is unlikely to lie about him. Or the power of God is vaster than I can imagine.

I’m going with that.

* * *

Actually we see the multiplication of loaves and fishes every day.

We see it in nature, in the bounty from seeds; we see it from animals who are lovingly looked after, 2 chicks multiplying to 50.

We see it from the immense riches which come from a good idea, from Adobe’s InDesign which sells for $700 or Microsoft Word or Matlab which sell for $100. Books, often still in the author’s head, sell for six figures. We see multiplication of the loaves and fishes in eBay, which has no stock, but is basically an idea: that people are basically good, and so strangers can safely enter into transactions. Facebook, where our relentless activity relentlessly contributes to its valuation, is also just website based on an idea–and is now valued at $250 billion!

The immense wealth, immense abundance in the universe, often comes to people in the form of good ideas.

* * *

How can we experience creative abundance?

Most bloggers write just a fraction of the blog posts in their heads. Most writers write just a minuscule fraction of all the good books they are capable of writing. In Keats’ phrase, they die, “before their pen has gleaned their teeming brain.”

The air in the room in which I write is full of signals. Signals to my TV, my radio, my iPhone, my laptop. Thousands of ideas in the air of my room, available to me as I switch on a gadget.

And God’s thoughts too are in the air of this room.

How precious to me are your thoughts,God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,

they would outnumber the grains of sand (Ps 139)

God’s thoughts pouring down, shimmering, more of them than every grain of sand on the seashore.

How do I access this infinity of ideas, and more importantly, find time and energy to write them down?

The short answer, I suspect, is absolute surrender. Giving God the key to every room of the house of our lives.

* * *

As with the Feeding of the Five Thousand, accessing God’s power a mixture of our effort and God’s goodness. The disciples offered their five loaves of bread and two fish. And God did the rest.

It’s a mixture of left-brain strategy and resourcefulness, and a right-brain openness to what God is up to.

I usually have dozens of ideas for blog posts which I have dictated to my phone or noted on my laptop. Finding time and energy to write them down will partly be a matter of revising my life.

* * *

Our lives are a web of hundreds of habits, some helpful, many unhelpful. Becoming more creative and productive will be a matter of revising habits at the micro-level, plugging the micro-leaks of time, the micro-actions in which we have not given Jesus the key to our time and lives, and are therefore acting outside the will of God.

For instance, I am trying to get into the habit of not writing or praying while I have access to Facebook, twitter, email or newspapers on my laptop. I switch them off using the apps SelfControl and StayFocusd. This greatly helps my focus.

I am trying to wake early and sleep early, because odds are I will use early morning time a bit better than late night time.

I write more and sleep better if I exercise, so I am trying to ensure that I weave exercise into my day, and get 10,000 steps on my Fitbit.

The peace and focus that domestic order brings, working in tidy and decluttered surroundings, immensely helps creativity.

Emotional tension drains our focus and energy, so I am doing the work of forgiving the people I need to forgive. And trying to seek Christ’s eyes and mind about the people I find annoying. And doing the mental and emotional work: forgiveness, perhaps, or realising that God has placed them in my life for a refining reason, for me to learn patience and kindness and empathy and tolerance. To see the good in them, and to practice firmness and saying No if necessary. To realize that even if someone’s intent towards me is wholly malignant, God can protect me.

There are spiritual practices which help creativity—remembering I am one with Christ, and so have access to the Father’s ideas, and wisdom on how to do a shapely blog, for instance. Mentally positioning and visualizing myself in the force field and waterfall of God’s goodness and power when I start writing.

Living in love not only feeds the emotional needs which make it easier for us to be productive, but is a fast-track into abiding in God, and having Jesus abide in our souls. Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. John 14:23. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. John 15:12.

In Christ are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. (Col 2:3). Hidden. And as we increasingly align ourselves and our lives with him, and keep seeking him, we begin to hear his answers to all the knotty questions of our lives. How do I lose weight? How do I become more productive?

* * *

I have not found the answers to increasing my productivity and getting all the ideas in my head onto the page yet—but I am more productive than I was a year ago.

As with many things in life, the answer may come as a process rather than a miracle, but I am on my way, still learning, still seeking, still knocking.

The Power to Change Comes from Christ in Us, Our Hope of Glory

By Anita Mathias

A mosaic in Ravenna, made of millions of broken tessarae of glass and enamel

The principle runs through all life from top to bottom.

Give up yourself, and you will find your real self.

Lose your life and you will save it.

Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life.

Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours.

Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity).

* * *

“Christianity can only be caught, not taught,” they say. I caught a lot while I was discipled from 1997 to 2002 by a spiritually deep Christian writer and leader.

He said that as he found himself becoming intense–a sign that self was on the throne, not Christ–he’d say, “Take that too. I surrender that to you, Jesus,” and so on, until it became a habit to surrender everything precious to him, everything he worried about, to Jesus.

We swapped my editing of his first book for spiritual guidance. He was a naturally gifted writer, and I think I helped him find his natural speaking voice and rhythms in writing. He thanked me in the acknowledgements for teaching him how to write!

Interestingly, he said that he did not own his writing. He had given it to God. And whereas I wasted a lot of time on false starts, he wrote to just three publishers, one of whom took his first book. Several reviewers have said his next book was one of the best books on prayer of all time, and that’s because it sprung from the heart, spirit and experience, not from study, reading or thinking.

What impressed me was that someone who did not seem naturally gifted as a writer could so rapidly write two good books. Was not “owning” his writing a factor? He said he wrote as God provided time, whereas I was then always trying to grab, steal, wrangle and fight for time, which caused me a lot of stress.

Interestingly, he said once that he owned the Christian organisation he founded far more than his writing. And that, 16 years on, has never really taken off, perhaps for this reason.

* * *

I was thinking this morning of the similarity to things in my own life. Things which I do not own, which I have turned over to God, and do reliant on his strength are blessed—things like our family business, my blog or even little things like my Twitter presence where after two years I chosen as a runner-up for the Tweeter of the Year by the Christian New Media awards in 2014, (and was a Finalist for Blogger of the Year in 2015).

The things which I do by worry and self-effort are not so blessed. My attempt to finish my memoir, say.

I am reading a book by Duncan Smith called Consumed by Love. It is about our oneness with Christ, how we are safe in Christ–as an astronaut in his spacesuit is safe from being bumped in a zero gravity spaceship–and how Christ is in us.

And in that lies the power to overcome long-standing battles: Christ in us, the hope of glory. Relying on the guidance and power of Christ, step by step.

Kim Walker Smith of Jesus Culture puts it well:

Where you go I go
What you say I say
What you pray I pray.

Jesus only did, what he saw you do.
He would only say what he heard you speak.
He would only move when he felt you lead.
Following your heart following your spirit.

How could I expect to walk without you

When every move that Jesus made was in surrender?

http://youtu.be/oyBw_DrEv34

Two verses are speaking to me: “You will not have to fight this battle. Stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you.” 2 Chron. 20:17. And, “The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still” Exodus 14:14.

So that’s where I am spiritually at present. A disciple, a learner. Turning over these areas of my weakness to him, relying on him for strength and guidance. Letting Christ in me, my hope of glory, act in me, guide me, change my tastes, my habits, my mind and spirit.

Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis on Amazon.com and on Amazon.co.uk

A Praying Life on Amazon.com and on Amazon.co.uk

On a Double Portion of the Anointing, and a Secret History with the Lord

By Anita Mathias

When Elijah was about to be taken up to heaven, he asks his acolyte Elisha, “What can I do for you?”

And Elisha, with simple and ambitious faith, asks “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” (2 Kings 2:9).

And so he does.

For the asking, so to say. For the asking took faith, which pleases God.

* * *

This story has sanctified ambition in charismatic circles. People ask successful Christian leaders, Heidi Baker, say, or John Arnott, to pray that they receive a double portion of their anointing (not realising that Elisha’s anointing was received in the context of discipleship: living with, watching, imitating). My daughter, Zoe, recently gave me Consumed by Love, by Oxfordshire native, Duncan Smith who describes how he desperately coveted “a double portion” of the anointing of Reinhard Bonnke (who generously prayed that he would receive it!).

* * *

What is the anointing? R. T. Kendall describes it, “the anointing is when our gift functions easily. It comes with ease. It seems natural. No working it up is needed. If one has to work it up, one has probably gone outside one’s anointing.

I experience the anointing when blog posts flow easily, and are written quickly almost as if dictated. When I open up a chapter of scripture, and “see” enough in it for three blog posts, and assume that everyone else sees the same riches, but then realise as I lead a Bible study on the topic, that this is not the case.

* * *

And this prayer to receive a double portion of other people’s anointing….?

If the prayer is frivolous, born out of a desire to be more famous, or receive more attention and adulation, God might not answer it—perhaps to protect his sheep from someone with such seriously flawed motives for wanting a platform.

But if you ask for a double portion of a mentor’s anointing with the innocent-heartedness of the child who wants to be famous, or you want fame so as to be a blessing, or as a means to doing your work in the world—well…

Jesus was playful, and encourages a playful spirit in the Christian life. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it. John 14.14 And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. John 14:13.

So perhaps it is not ridiculous to ask for a double portion of the spirit of Christian writers and bloggers I admire.

* * *

Bill Johnson is one of my favourite living Christian speaker and writer. He is sensible, reasonable, left-brained–and filled with faith. He opens my eyes to the realities of the spiritual realm, and the power of prayer and makes me excited about them. We just have to read the Gospels–and Jesus’s reiterated statement that all things are possible for them who believe–to realise that, because of our unbelief, we can remain children, spiritually, playing in the sand, while the mighty ocean roars around us

When I read Bill’s many books or hear him speak, I yearn for more of God. I yearn to know God as he does. I yearn for the spiritual experience he has had.

Apparently, I am not alone in being impressed.

I heard Bill say that people frequently come up to him and ask him to pray that they receive “a double portion of his anointing.”

Which seems an awfully cheeky thing to ask someone to pray for—essentially, “Please pray that I become twice as famous and successful as you are!!”

And Bill laughs and says, “Yes, God might give you a double portion of my anointing, but what you can never have is my secret history with the Lord.”

Ah, a secret history with the Lord of Hosts, the most democratic of gifts, open to everyone, and more important than any anointing, for without it, we would not be able to bear the weight of the gifts God gives us!

My secret history with God—it sweetens my life, it fills it with hope, it offers me guidance, it gives me strength to endure: both reverses, and perhaps even an anointing!!

Anointing, which makes our work quick and easy, is a gift that’s fine to pray for! But great “anointings” are given to the few. A secret history with the Lord, however, is open to each of us, and that is a gift we have the responsibility (which will eventually become a joy) to cultivate.

Dreaming with God on Amazon.com

Dreaming with God: Secrets to Redesigning Your World Through God’s Creative Flow on Amazon.co.uk

One Secret of Joy: Be More Dog

By Anita Mathias

https://youtu.be/LB8dD9c5AgA

So what’s the secret of a dog’s wild energy and wagging tail?
Their warm heart, their boundless capacity for love? Their short memories, their natural ability to forgive?
Be more dog.

http://youtu.be/yu9sWjnJFHU

And here is Jake the Collie, in the buttercup meadow behind my house

And me and Merry, my Labradoodle

anita.mathias