Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Why I go to Charismatic Festivals

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Georgian Bainov with his fiddle
Photo: Better photo of Heidi dancing here :)
Heidi Baker dancing in the River of God before her talk

I no longer attend a Charismatic church, but do occasionally go to Charismatic meeting or conferences. I’ve been to three this year, to RiverCamp, Revival Alliance and to listen to Patricia Bootsma, leader of Toronto church made famous by the Toronto Blessing.
A blog commentator seemed bemused as to why I do go. I am reasonably careful and intentional about my use of time—certainly lead an examined life!–so obviously wouldn’t go without good reason, but it’s good to try to verbalise the reasons.
1) Ah, this is perhaps the biggest reason: Worship.
 Sometimes, one’s spiritual life can get mind-centred, or me-centred. You know, praying about one’s concerns, praying for guidance, learning about God from the Bible, reading about the spiritual life. It is ME seeking God.
What setting aside a few days to worship God in community gives me is the experience of worship. Forgetting self, forgetting all the restless thoughts of a restless mind, forgetting everything, just submerging myself in the sea of God. Oh, how lovely that is, to forget self, leave self behind, and soak in the sea of God.
Oh, I love it, love worship, but worship is the weakest link in my spiritual life. I am not very good at it alone at home—simply because I have not practised enough. My mind takes over and talks to God. I tend to pause the worship music and meditate on the lyrics. But in the company of hundreds of others, I am carried away by the music, by the lack of distractions, by the fact that I can’t really escape from the room or pause the music–and oh, I worship God, and I find that my soul was craving for it!!

We are made for worship, that is what we will be doing in heaven, and, so worship fulfils a need of even the most cerebral soul.


2) People like Heidi Baker, John Arnott and Bill Johnson have a deeper faith and knowledge of God than I do. They write and speak well. So in listening to them, I see a high water mark of the joy, faith and miracles which, to my way of thinking are part of “the normal Christian life.” I realize there’s so much more. I want to strive for it.

2) My work–writing!!–is very intense, and so am I. I cannot go on writing for long weeks without a break. I could go to Europe, and do so, several times a year. So far in 2012, I’ve been on three trips to Istanbul, Ireland and Copenhagen, and to three Christian conferences.

I found both stimulating and very interesting, but the latter will have a far greater influence on the course of my life than the former. The latter have brought me more joy, and, more importantly for me, wisdom and direction.
I wouldn’t want to only go to retreats and conferences, but sometimes there is an emptiness in hedonistic travel, and I crave quietness, wisdom, and God. Ideally, I would construct holidays with time to seek God, as well as to explore.

3) I do pray most every day, but at home, I am mainly reading, writing and blogging. I am not setting aside long hours to seek God’s face, to seek his direction. At retreats and spiritual conferences, that’s all I do!

So I sometimes get direction for the year ahead, as when I received clear direction that it was time to return to writing and to wrap up my memoir in the course of the next 12 months.
This has only happened once, but we receiveda prophetic word which significantly changed my daughter Zoe’s confidence, emotional state, and sense of call and direction.
If a life is a work of art, always in flux, in spending time with God, I receive fresh direction; good ideas; ideas for tweaks to blogging, daily routines, financial practices etc; encouragement, guidance, and new inspiration. And occasionally a sentence or two or a clear direction from God.
If one thinks of time as a raw material, a resource, then investing your time, and more importantly, your whole will and spirit and soul into seeking God and God’s guidance is a great investment.

4 “Better is one day in your house than a 1000 elsewhere.”

Well, is it true, or isn’t it true? If it’s true, why not act accordingly?

I guess by choosing to spend days in praise and worship and listening to Bible talks from those far deeper in the holy river of God, I am making this choice: that a day in God’s house is better than a thousand elsewhere.
6 It’s a great experience for children to spend time thinking of spiritual things, and to develop a depth to their own spiritual lives. Being young, being impressionable, they have had spiritual experiences, like being slain in the spirit, which I have not had.
7 My theology on this is borrowed. However, I first received the Holy Spirit and the gift of tongues when someone prayed for me to. I experientially know that I am more likely to be touched and refilled with the Spirit when someone deeper in the River prays for me to, or when I spend a long time in God’s presence seeking this. And being filled to overflowing with God’s spirit is a prize well worth seeking!!

 I have two retreats planned, one in Germany, one in Wales, which will combine a rest, long walks, some exploration, and much time resting, learning and being strengthened in the holy river of God.


In which I Practise Praying Every Ten Minutes: The Ten Minute Worship Revolution

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Irene, delighted with and thankful for the sash of her new dress!


I have attended two conferences organized by John Arnott, on whose beat the hugely influential Toronto Revival was born.  They have influenced the course of my life—deeply introducing me the love of the Father; immersing me in soaking prayer ; and, most recently, introducing me to a ten minute worship timer.
A worship timer?
Carol Arnott was incurably ill, and went to the Community without Walls in Germany, where Rolland Baker was healed of dementia and cerebral malaria.
There Dr. Arne Elsen suggested the 10 minute worship revolution, using a timer or a buzzer which goes off every ten minutes, when you stop everything and worship. He cures five terminally ill patients, mainly cancer patients a week, through this infusion of positivity, joy, thankfulness, worship and praise.
Well, I was interested. I have seen 3-4 people bedbound with ME, who have been cured by stopping spiralling negative thoughts (I am too ill to do this—talking will tire me—walking will exhaust me etc.) and exchanging them with positive self-talk through the Lightning Process (a highly effective neuro-linguistic programming course, which I haven’t been on. Not religious as far as I know. )
So, this every ten-minute worship really should bring an infusion of the positive thinking which is  a neglected aspect of Jesus’ teaching, not to mention joy and praisefulness (both things I have sought) into one’s day to day life.
Zoe and I bought one the day we heard of it. I adore it and have used it every day for the last two weeks.
It’s will probably take 3 weeks to fully get into the habit of it, and for new neural pathways to be created. And I will report on any changes in my temperament and emotional state in about six months.
But the first two weeks (which is about how long it takes to get the hang of it, and to begin reaping the benefits, according to successful users) have been peaceful and happy. I don’t know how I will be able to live without it. If I turn it off for a nap or while having coffee with a friend, and then forget to switch it back, something feels wrong. I am less productive, time seems more lumpy and stolid instead of flowing in a grace-infused stream.
                                                               * * *
 So here’s my experience. I haven’t been using it exclusively to worship, though, increasingly, that is what I am doing every ten minutes.
1) Thankfullness
I usually stop when my ten minute timer goes, and thank God for something. Often something I may not have otherwise thanked God for. New people following my blog on Facebook or Google Friend Connect. The blog’s growth. The success of my children. The sweetness of Roy. The glory of my dog, and ducks and rabbits (okay, I adore animals!!). Blue skies. The orchids in the room. Time to pray. To read. To study the Bible. To write. Gratitude that earning a living is not all-consuming, but leaves us time to be organised and peaceful and quiet.
And my mental state slowly changes through this discipline of praise every ten minutes. Becomes more positive, more ebullient.
2) My Use of Time Significantly Improves
I have never worked full-time, and have worked part-time for about 3 years, teaching at Ohio State University, Binghamton University, and William and Mary, as a Graduate Teaching Assistant, and Adjunct Professor variously.
So my work habits have really been those of a dreamy, dilatory, distractible writer than a professional.
But, my goodness, this timer really helps. So, I am reading articles in the New York Times or the Guardian. But really should be writing. The buzzer goes; I worship. And, if by the time the buzzer goes again, I am still dilly-dallying, well then, I know something is seriously wrong, and settle down to work.
Yeah, you just can’t procrastinate and waste time that much when you are going to pray every ten minutes!!
It keeps me on track—with what I intend to do, what I have done, what I am going to do that day. Sort of gets me back into the river of surrender and discipline.
3) It keeps me positive. Roy, who is used to, and loves, working for hours with intense concentration was appalled at the thought of being interrupted every ten minutes.
However, once, when I was telling him off (very gently, and most justifiably:-), he burst into a huge grin. “Now you will never be annoyed with me for more than ten minutes at a time,” he said. Yeah,  it’s very annoying when you are telling someone off and timer goes off telling you it’s time to worship God, and you have to drop your moaning. And praise God!!
Seriously though, the first few days, my timer often caught me thinking something negative about something or someone, and instead I found something to be thankful for in that person or situation.
The second week, it’s been rarer to be caught out thinking negatively by my timer. It is truly beginning to change the tenor of my emotional life.
4) Impact on Family Life
We have long, leisurely family meals, which last nearly an hour. And the buzzer goes off several times during dinner. And we all go round the table and thank God for one thing we are grateful for.
And of course, consciously expressing gratitude makes you more grateful.
5) Praying in Tongues adds a depth to one’s prayer life, especially in areas in which one may not quite understand why one is stymied, or what or how one should pray. I usually pray in tongues haphazardly, when my heart is full, though I do so most days. Now I have a little slot for it.
6) Prayer to be filled with the Spirit is a prayer which is always answered (Luke 11:13). And to be filled with the Spirit is one of the desires of my heart—both to experience the joy and wisdom of the filling, and to be able to bless people from the overflow of God’s life in me. My timer reminds me to pray for this.
7) Awareness of God’s Presence. Again, using the worship timer helps me to be more aware of the presence of Christ, right here in the room with me, and in his hands a stream of bubbling waters which he offers to anyone who is thirsty and comes to him to drink.
Praying briefly every ten minutes incorporates prayer into the rhythms of my real and emotional life. I find that I am frequently living and working in an ambient state of praise and prayer, coming a tiny step closer to the injunction to pray continuously.
8) Worship is a weaker element of my spiritual life. I need the tides of communal worship to really lift my spirits into self-forgetful worship. I haven’t practised worshiping alone that much. So the worship timer is introducing this neglected dimension into my prayer life.
9) Visualization—Praying every ten minutes is a rich practice. Sometimes, I just relax and visualize. Me dancing with Jesus. Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit on me. (John 20:22). Me dancing in the waterfall of God’s presence and power and creativity.
10) Big Asks—I am using this exercise to be thankful, praiseful and to worship, to just love God and be, rather than for big-wrestling change-my-life kind of prayer. But if I am conscious of a need as my buzzer goes—I am stuck with my writing; worried about a kid, I send up celestial smoke signals, of course. Please help.
Incorporating it into work and exercise—If the buzzer goes off while I am reading or writing, which I often am, I pause, thank, praise, pray, and resume. If it goes off while I am walking and listening to a novel, or an easy theological book, rather than search through all my pockets for my iPhone, pause it, pray, then rewind to get into the flow, I simply multitask, and silently thank God for the book, the glory of the day and the fields around us, while the narrator continues reading me the book.
Yeah, so I am happier, more on track, more peaceful since I started using the ten minute worship timer. I recommend it.
(And here’s the link to Catch the Fire timer I use.)
  
  

“Who Am I?” a poem by Bonhoeffer; Spurgeon on how to lead a Bible Study, and other fascinating links

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1  Who am I ? by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
Freely and friendly and clearly,
As though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
Equally, smilingly, proudly,
Like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectation of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?

Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!

Written March 4th, 1946.


Let us, dear brethren, try to get saturated with the gospel. I always find that I can preach best when I can manage to lie a-soak in my text.
I like to get a text, and find out its meaning and bearings, and so on; and then, after I have bathed in it, I delight to lie down in it, and let it soak into me.
It softens me, or hardens me, or does whatever it ought to do to me, and then I can talk about it.
You need not be very particular about the words and phrases if the spirit of the text has filled you; thoughts will leap out, and find raiment for themselves.
Become saturated with spices, and you will smell of them; a sweet perfume will distill from you, and spread itself in every direction; — we call it unction.
Do you not love to listen to a brother who abides in fellowship with the Lord Jesus? Even a few minutes with such a man is refreshing, for, like his Master, his paths drop fatness. Dwell in the truth, and let the truth dwell in you. Be baptized into its spirit and influence, that you may impart thereof to others.
If you do not believe the gospel, do not preach it, for you lack an essential qualification; but even if you do believe it, do not preach it until you have taken it up into yourself as the wick takes up the oil. So only can you be a burning and a shining light.

3 A Christian Voice for Barack Obama from The Huffington Post.




Encounters with the Angel of Writing

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I heard a really amazing talk last month on writing at—get this!!– a large Charismatic Conference, RiverCamp. The speaker Mark Stibbe talked about the angel of writing, and prayed for an anointing to write for us.

I asked for it; I received it.

I have always felt guilty and conflicted about my writing, since I got married in 1989: wasn’t there some laundry or housework to do?  Should I be encountering God in a laundry basket as a male spiritual adviser suggested?

Now I saw it as a calling, a spiritual gifting. An anointing!! I have, on a daily basis, written more words than ever since then. When I am stuck, I visualize myself as standing in the waterfall of God’s power and anointing, and ask to be refilled with the spirit.

* * *

Another thing Mark Stibbe said that interested me was that “Seeing” was a spiritual gift. If you have a gift for leading Bible studies, he said, you “see” things in the text which most people do not. I have long had the experience of seeing riches in a Biblical text which I thought were totally obvious to any reader, but which, apparently, were not. But I had never thought of this as a spiritual gift.

Stibbe talked about the gift of “seeing” as you write. And the manuscript which I had been stymied over for 15 years began to shape and coalesce in my mind as he spoke, and over the next couple of days.

That evening, a sweet Elim Pentecostal minister, Trevor Baker, in his sixties or older, spoke about how he had been stymied with his first book manuscript—his autobiography—for decades; how Mark Stibbe prayed for him; how the block dissolved; how he finished the manuscript in six months. He asked us to buy the published book!!

Stibbe himself spoke about how he received an anointing to write when John Wimber prayed for him.

(I am reading a book called The Anointing by R. T. Kendall, unusual, brilliant. It says God’s gifts and call are irrevocable. It examines how one might be able to transfer an anointing to write, let’s say, or be able to preach brilliantly, or heal, while no longer in a fresh, close relationship with God.)

I was delighted when Mark Stibbe prayed that we receive the anointing to write. Over the next few days, I saw the shape my book should take. I saw the painfully long chapters—between 12 and 20+ pages dissolve and reshape themselves into short 2-3 page 1000 word chapters. In the other words, the length of the blog-posts I’ve been writing for the last 29 months—the sound-bites in which I’ve been instinctively thinking. I was filled with a longing to write it, and it has been flowing freely and joyfully since then.

 

In which Angels Sing, and Diamonds Materialize: A Report from the Revival Alliance Charismatic Conference in Birmingham

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“Alice laughed: “There’s no use trying,” she said; “one can’t believe impossible things.”

“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
Alice in Wonderland.

The Revival Alliance Conference I attended had a special “impartation” meeting in Birmingham on Saturday for those aged 15-30 to receive an “impartation” (with laying on of hands) from the world’s leading charismatic leaders.

There was Randy Clark, whose preaching birthed the Toronto Revival.  John Arnott, the pastor who shepherded the Toronto Revival to a movement which has gone on for 18 years, and is still going strong. The amazing Heidi and  Rolland Baker. Bill Johnson, “the thinking man’s charismatic,” as steeped in the Bible, as in a magical, miraculous world much like the Bible’s. Che Ahn. Georgian Bainov.

So both our daughters go to this meeting, and come back bubbling and bouncing with excitement.  Those watching outside caught some of it on TV screens. As Rolland Baker placed his hands in blessings on the young people’s palms, diamonds appeared. The floor was covered with these diamonds, which rained down from heaven. The more aggressive crawled on hands and knees picking them up. My children got 3 between them, while others got several. The Kingdom sometimes goes to the aggressive. In fact, when the adults returned, there were some of these in the loos, and parking lots.

HERE are eye-witness accounts from the Revival Alliance’s Facebook page. (Screen shots, so a little fuzzy)

 

Capture_sara_mcafferty_1

Capture_sara_mcafferty_2

Capture_sara_mcafferty_3

bill_johnson_text

Our friend, James, an Oxford educated physicist, was particularly fascinated. He picked up two, and compared them with Zoe’s. His had a gold backing!!

Apparently, according to Bill Johnson, this not a rare manifestion. Gold-dust, diamonds, a glory cloud and angelic feathers appear all the time in his church, Bethel in California, and even in houses, restaurants and airplanes where those like Bill who particularly experience “the presence” travel.

Irene, my 13 year old says, “Wow, Mum if Rolland can make diamonds appear, maybe it’s all true.” Oh, I am so old.  My reaction. “Cool.” Did I believe it? Yeah, sure. Why not?

I have heard Heidi Baker tell this story of miraculous multiplication in person, which she also shared with the CBN’s 700 Club.

“It was a 110-degree Christmas Day. There were hundreds of children that were awaiting a Christmas party at their center. These children included girls who had sold their bodies, bandits, rascals, and children from the village. All had all been invited. The challenge was that there were so many children, but only a limited amount of toy bags available. So, Heidi began to give the presents out first to those children who had never received a present before. Finally, it came down to the older girls, but all that was left were bags with stuffed animals in them.

Heidi asked the girls, “What would you like, sweetheart?”

And the girl replied, “Beads.” 

Heidi’s friend and co-worker, a psychiatrist, said “There is nothing in the bags but old stuffed dogs.”

Heidi asked her friend to check the bags again. When the lady reached her hand into the bag of stuffed animals she started screaming, “Beads! There are beads in the bag!”

All of the girls got beautiful, bright beads for Christmas.

“God really is God, and He is much better than Santa Claus,” says Heidi.

In the same interview, she tells this story, “After the government evicted the Bakers from the orphanage, “a friend from the American Embassy came with chili and rice for the Bakers and their 2 children. They prayed over the pots of food and told the 80+ children to sit down.  Everyone ate and was full!”

Do I believe these stories? Do I believe that Jesus changed water into wine, and fed 5000 from 5 loaves? Do I believe that He said that those who believe in him will do greater things than these? Yes, yes, and yes!

* * *

In the evening, there was an impartation for everyone, and as Arnott etc went around and laid their hands on people and prayed, most of the thousands in Bingley Hall fell backwards instantly, “slain in the Spirit.”  Amazingly, my husband buckled as he was prayed for, as did Zoe and Irene. Moi—no! Too self-conscious, too scared of falling backwards, too scared of losing control, too analytical, too much of a blogger observing the proceedings. And perhaps that was what God intended. When I blog, I feel his pleasure.

It was a rather fascinating sight though, to see Arnott and Rolland Baker and Bill Johnson go through the rows, say a brief pray for people, who then fell backwards as if poleaxed.

And there was the sweetest, most angelic singing rising.

I heard it myself, high sweet singing, though the worship band said there were no instruments, and no one was singing.

Here are some accounts from the Revival Alliance 2012 Facebook:

Revival Alliance 2012
Martin Smith leading all the saints joining in one song! Who else heard #angels singing during worship at venue 1??? #revival2012
Photo: Martin Smith leading all the saints joining in one song! Who else heard #angels singing during worship at venue 1??? #revival2012
12538Like ·  · Share

Thomas Kinkade, A Beauty which Never Was on Land or Sea

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 The hilarious, ironic, and spot-on website Stuff White People Like mentions a sure way to convince your white friends that you are totally unsophisticated
“If you wish to ensure that white people will never speak to you about art again, there is an easy escape. Simply mention your favorite artist is Thomas Kinkade and that you are in negotiations to purchase an original from the store in the mall. This will effectively end any friendship you have with a white person.”I realized that when I bought not one, but two Thomas Kinkade repros from a mall, and showed them, happily to a white Christian artist friend. Who was horrified.

You know I really, really do have good taste in art. Promise. And loathe kitsch.

But Thomas Kinkade appeals to something in me. I love his paradisial landscapes. I love the way the seasons are all jumbled together. How trees and flowers from every continent appear. That’s what heaven will be like, I think.

There is this sense of the jumbling of the “natural order,” deranging of nature in Scripture, when it talks of God’s blessing. Aaron’s staff, a sign of God’s power, had buds, blossoms and fruit all together. It’s been a symbol of me of the possibility of the sudden flowering of creativity, a sudden burst of inspiration.

In another of my favourite passages, Ezekiel 47, we are told that the trees on the banks of the river which flows from the sanctuary bear fruit every month because the water from the sanctuary flows to them.

That’s what’s Kinkade’s landscapes remind me off, the beauty of all the seasons together; spring, summer, autumn, winter; and trees and flowers from every continent, blooming in an immense and joyful profusion–together.

The Hills are Alive with Angels in Chariots of Fire, and Christ Walks on the Thames

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 Billy Bragg sings Jerusalem at Greenbelt 2011
 And did those feet in ancient time.

Walk upon England’s mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England’s pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green and pleasant Land

William Blake
Blake refers to the pleasing. apocryphal tradition that the young Christ visited Glastonbury with his uncle, Joseph of Arimathea. 
And though the answer to all Blake’s questions is No–it is thrilling: the notion that those feet, in ancient time, walked upon England’s mountains green, that the Holy Lamb of God was upon England’s pleasant pastures seen, and the Countenance Divine shone forth among our clouded hills.
What is no less thrilling but actually true is those feet still walk upon England’s mountains green, that the Holy Lamb of God is among England’s pleasant pastures seen, and that the Countenance Divine shines forth among our clouded hills.
We just do not slow down enough to see or recognize him walking beside us.
Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land
Visionaries and prophets on the other hand can always see the one walking beside. Always another walking beside us. Can see the hills around us ringed with angels in chariots and fire. Can see Jacob’s ladder between heaven and Charing Cross, as Francis Thompson saw it, or between Heaven and Oxford. Can see Christ walking on the water, not of Gennesaret but Thames, or the Isis and Cherwell.
Here’s one of my favourite poems by a Christian mystic, Francis Thompson.
The Kingdom of God
1
“IN NO STRANGE LAND”
O world invisible, we view thee,
O world intangible, we touch thee,
O world unknowable, we know thee,
Inapprehensible, we clutch thee!
5 Does the fish soar to find the ocean,
The eagle plunge to find the air—
That we ask of the stars in motion
If they have rumor of thee there?
Not where the wheeling systems darken,
10 And our benumbed conceiving soars!—
The drift of pinions, would we hearken,
Beats at our own clay-shuttered doors.
The angels keep their ancient places—
Turn but a stone and start a wing!
15 ’Tis ye, ’tis your estrangéd faces,
That miss the many-splendored thing.
But (when so sad thou canst not sadder)
Cry—and upon thy so sore loss
Shall shine the traffic of Jacob’s ladder
20 Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.
2
Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter,
Cry—clinging Heaven by the hems;
And lo, Christ walking on the water,
Not of Genesareth, but Thames!
Oh, may I always see Him walking beside me.

Sometimes God is most merciful when we are least deserving!!

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The Pure, Unmerited Goodness and Mercy of God. Isn’t He? by John Wimber




Here’s a wonderful story from Carol Wimber’s book, The Way it Was.

“Right away the Jesus Songs started coming, like a stream of sweet water. I call them airport songs because God gave them to John on his way to or from the airport. “Isn’t He?” (which keeps food on my table from the royalties) was another song written on the way to the airport on a scrap of paper.

It came the same way, all at once, words and music, but it came in a flood of gratitude for the goodness and mercy of Jesus.

John was on his way to pick up an uninvited visitor who had called the house and informed our son, Tim, that he was waiting for John to pick him up. Well, poor Tim! John was a “kill the messenger” guy. He jumped all over Tim. “Why didn’t you tell him I didn’t know he was coming?” “Because I didn’t know that, Dad,” answered a bewildered Tim. “But I’m tired, and I just got home, and it’s raining. I don’t want to go out again, Tim. Why didn’t you explain it to him?” “Dad, I just answered the phone, and said Hello. The man said you were supposed to be there to pick him up, and I said, “Oh,” and the man asked me to tell you when you came home. I said I would.”

John left for the hour and a half drive to the airport, and he felt miserable. Not about having to go out when he was tired, but because of the way he had treated Tim. He wept over it, and told Jesus how wrong, and how sorry he was, and was just planning how he would apologize to Tim, when the car was flooded with the love of God. Overwhelmed with God’s mercy, his head and heart filled with the words and music:

Isn’t he beautiful? Beautiful, isn’t he?
Prince of Peace, Son of God, isn’t he?
Isn’t he wonderful? Wonderful, isn’t he?
Counselor, Almighty God, isn’t he? Isn’t he? Isn’t he?
He taught us that sweet Jesus song the next Sunday. It is amazing how fast the Holy Spirit-given songs go around the world. They fly on the wings of the wind.”

I love this story. I love the way God sometimes responds to me with poetry and insight and blogposts when I have blown it, am feeling crushed and overwhelmed with shame. That’s when he reveals himself and his love most clearly, and blesses me with new insight.
Gerard Manley Hopkins describes this
“Father and Fondler of heart thou hast wrung,
Hast thy dark descending, and most art merciful then.”
Or as Francis Thompson puts it,
But (when so sad thou canst not sadder)
Cry–and upon thy so sore loss
Shall shine the traffic of Jacob’s ladder
Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.
And lo, Christ walking on the water,
Not of Genesareth, but Thames!