Am I an atheist?

The saga continues. Yesterdays morning’s message in church was so pertinent to what I was saying in my previous blog, and our key verse was 1 John 4:16 as Pastor continued to expand on What is God like?

A letter in this morning's local rag spoke of “the creation myths that are a feature of folklore all over the world.” The writer went on to say how astonished he is that 2 out of 5 people in the US, and almost as many in Britain, believe that humans did not evolve from animals, and that all life was created within the last 10 000 years. I am pleased he has the capacity to be astonished, but I wonder at his idea that while we are all free to believe what we want to, he battles because so many of us are unable to separate truth from fantasy!

I have the same problem!

As a keen sportsman, our Pastor spoke of the opportunities he has when, sooner or later, someone will ask, “What do you do for a living?”

He is always pleased to have the opportunity to say that he pastors a wonderful family in a great church, and he was not fazed when one guy truculently responded with, “Well, I am an atheist, so I don’t believe in God.” The fellow seemed a little taken aback when asked with great interest if he could describe the god he didn’t believe in, but he rallied, and gave a good description that left our Pastor wondering if he was also an atheist, as he didn’t believe in that god either.

When I consider my God, and all His attributes, I cannot understand how I went so long without full commitment to Him. I believed, yes, but I had not taken the time or made the effort to know Him more personally. Going to Him and saying, “Lord, I believe, but please help my unbelief. Teach me more - ” started an exciting journey, and every step on it thrills me, excites me, and makes me want more.

If some people consider the Bible to be fiction, and merely written by men, it certainly has done well to survive for so long, to teach so much, to be the foundation of morals, ethics and legalities, and to give so much food for thought, discussion, argument and love.

One of my favourite passages in the Bible, which is my road map, is the prayer in Ephesians 3:14 - 20. And some of those aspects of the key verse yesterday, God is Love, - the most used, and most misunderstood aspect of God, - were brought out yesterday from verse 18.

My God loves with a love that is wide enough to include everyone, (Psalm 145:17) even though not everyone accepts it.

His love is long enough to last forever, (Jeremiah 31:3), unlike human love which can wear out. He even perseveres with me.

 His love is high enough to be everywhere, (Romans 8:39) and deep enough (Psalm 18:16) to meet my every need. Deuteronomy 33:27 The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

The four dimensions of the Cross, the ultimate demonstration of God’s Love. How can we live without Him? I certainly can’t, and knowing Him has so enriched my life that doubt and fear were crucified with Christ. Faith, Hope, Peace, Assurance and Love have replaced them.

In His Love, Greetings.

Responding to a Rejector

My dear man takes great delight in drawing my attention to newspaper items which may elicit some response that will either spoil my appetite or make his day. This morning's one was a letter by a fellow commenting on an opinion that recent disasters could be attributed to prophesies of the Bible. He suggested that reading works of fiction such as the Bible (sic) should be changed to works of non-fiction covering continental drift, plate tectonics, vulcanism and climatology to explain natural disasters that have wreaked havoc!!
I do not consider myself as intelligent in so far as general knowledge goes, and sometimes when I give free range to my thoughts, I can even confuse myself, but here I see another example of a brilliant mind, open to learned philosophies of all kinds, but blind and deaf to simple truth.
The Bible says man's wisdom is "unwise" ( to paraphrase) and the simplicity of a child's mind more profound.
For many deep thinkers who try to explain the unexplainable, the things of creation offer a wide range of exploration to plumb the roots of existence. Thinking minds long to understand, and therefore encapsulate their ideas into understandable forms. Reading the Bible for themselves, (rather than listening to hearsay) does not normally fall into their sphere of essential things to do.
I admire a thinking mind like that of Stan Telchin, who wrote "Betrayed" and who was horrified when his daughter embraced the Christian faith. He took time out from his busy legal practice to systematically read the Bible for himself, in order to dispute her new belief, for she was more important to him than anything else. Now that is worth looking into!
Mankind wants time to be meaningful, distance to be measurable, matter to be understood, but some things are beyond the mind's ability to encompass. Why is that? Surely all must have a beginning, a being, and an ending. It shows that there is a power greater than the mind!
Why is the earth the size it is, in the position it is, and able to keep spinning? Who fixed the limits for the sea so that it does not constantly over-run the land?
Who has given orders to the morning and shown the dawn its place?
Do you really know, without a doubt, what happens at death? "Have the gates of death been shown to you?"
"What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside?
Have you seen the storehouses of the snow or hail, or where lightening is dispersed?"
Yes, it can all be scientifically explained, but where did it all originate, and why?
I don't need to understand everything, but this one thing I know - I am so glad that God made His light shine in my heart to give me the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. (2 Corinthians 4:6)
Be blessed Him and may His light shine on you.
Elaine.

Why would I write about war?

My reading this morning included Psalm 117, the shortest and most succinct.
Praise the Lord, all you nations; extol Him all you peoples. For great is His love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord.

There follows, in Psalm 118:8 the central verse of the Bible, It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man.
Such wisdom, that if it were followed, there would be no war.
Prophecy tells us though, that we are headed towards the greatest war of all time, and nothing has been learned from history. Living in the End Times as we are, and speaking as a peace loving person, I have been surprised at the way the Lord has been laying war on my heart. But the situation in Israel, and the ongoing drama of Jerusalem hold me enthralled, and my interest in history with the lessons to be learnt from it, particularly the aspect of His Story, spark new ideas.
Today I have been delving into the accounts of the battle of Delville Wood, as part of the Battle of the Somme in World War 1.
In the raining dawn of July 15th 1916, more than 3000 Rhodesian and South African soldiers entered the 16 acre wooded area held by the German forces, and in the frantic fighting that ensued, even after ammunition gave out and hand to hand conflict continued, deaths outnumbered the wounded by four to one. On July 19th, only 2 officers and 142 of the Brigade walked out of the Wood - and the Great War continued.
Carnage continues, little change from the Old Testament accounts but interesting in that the wars instigated by the Lord had different results than those instigated by men. Lots of scope for research, and my dear man will have cause for complaint if I work into the early hours. We live in interesting times, but they are times when we need wisdom more than ever, and the Wisdom of Proverbs 8 is worthy of exploration.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. (Proverbs 9:10)

Blessings of peace, particularly of heart!

It's been a while!

Having had a short break, and benefiting by good sea breezes, it was good to sit for real Quiet Times! Yes, the sound of the sea was soothing and inducing for thought, and, as always, I could think of my Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm doth bind the restless wave.
One of my insights came from Proverbs 19:8 in the NLT. To acquire wisdom is to love oneself; people who cherish understanding will prosper.
I had been thinking, "Who am I, that anyone would want to listen to me?"
I looked at the NIV. He who gets wisdom loves his own soul; he who cherishes understanding prospers.
I guess that is one type of prosperity teaching that appeals!
Care to join me?
Be blessed.

Not Ashamed

I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes; first for the Jew, then for the Gentile. (Romans 1:16) I do sometimes feel ashamed of myself though, when I have been unable to make it clear to loved ones; to be the one who would help them understand the urgency of the message of the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ.
Then I remind myself that God hears my prayers, and it is not His will that any should be lost. The time will come ...
We are living in the last days, and there will be scoffers, even some we know and love, but The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. (2.Peter 3:9)
I have an urgency in my heart, and I am in the process of putting together some words that I trust will lead to better understanding, so - watch this space!
Who am I writing for? Who is listening out there? I trust the Lord will lead and reveal, for the work is not mine, it is His. I want to be His instrument, and while He is tuning me, I will continue practising, and praising Him for He hasn't finished with me yet.
I trust we will exalt His Name together!

Flight of Fancy - Fiction

So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature. For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want. Galatains 5;16,17
Thinking of these verses, I am reminded of a story I wrote some time ago, and having had a couple of hectic days, with all sorts of ideas buzzing in my head, herewith a fiction break while I pus thoughts in order. And remember that - The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 6:22,23.

Flight of Fancy.

It wasn’t a good day. I certainly didn’t feel like a long journey. I was feeling fragile, and in urgent need of TLC, something which was not likely to be forthcoming. I had left the house under a cloud of anger and accusation, and was wondering if it was all worth it, this marriage, my job, and all the peripheral things that took up my time and prevented me from being the person I wanted to be.

Why was it that when I was at my most relaxed and content, that  the unexpected happened, that a volcano of frustration and irritation erupted, spilling into a potentially quiet day and making it into a catastrophic disaster?

We had enjoyed an idyllic evening, Byron and I, watching a romantic comedy, and relaxing in intimate comfort while the children slept, miraculously free of nightmares, wanting water, or sudden loneliness. They had risen early, gone off to nursery school with happy faces, full tuck-boxes and excited anticipation for the day. We had cleared the breakfast things, and while Byron had prepared for work, gathering his laptop, and various document into his attaché case, I had made the bed and gathered the washing together.

It was as I was checking pockets that I found the bank slip. Why would Byron have drawn an extra R1000 when we had already exceeded our budget for the month? I knew he had an office function coming up but couldn’t imagine that he would need money for that. It would have been covered in the staff budget. We usually discussed any unexpected payments and it was unusual for him not to mention such an outlay. I was not unduly worried as our policy was strictly “ours” and not “his” and “hers”, so he would surely tell me eventually. It must have just slipped his mind. That was my idea, until he came into the bed-room and just about snapped my head off.

“Why can’t you leave this until I’m ready to sort it myself?” he exploded, snatching his shirt from my hands, and feeling in the top pocket. “Don’t tell me you have already thrown things away?” he continued, rifling through the papers I had laid on the vanity table.  He pocketed the bank transaction, and threw the till slips from his supermarket shopping for me, into the waste basket. “I wish you weren’t such a perfectionist” he growled. “There is such a thing as letting me clear my own pockets you know!”

Being struck dumb did not last long. I wasn’t accustomed to him yelling at me, and my defences were only temporarily out of action before I yelled back.

“How long should I wait, then? Until you’ve cleared the bank?”

He had obviously not realised that I had actually seen the withdrawal slip, for his face registered guilt before he retaliated with “Oh, so you’ve been snooping as well?”

Replaying it all in my mind now, I couldn’t believe that such an eruption could have gathered impetus as it did.  Before I knew what to say or how, we were both in a heavy argument about how I always want things my way, and then blame him if I don’t get what I want, and how he always takes it for granted that I will pick up after him, and how he cares more for his appearance on working days than on home days, and how I ignore him anyway when I am fussing over the house and the kids, It was scary, and I couldn’t remember when we had last had such a blow up. It just didn’t happen. We were a normally contented couple with laughing and joking together part of our life style. 

By the time I boarded the ‘plane for my short flight to Pretoria and the Women’s conference I was to attend on behalf of our church, I had a multi-faceted scenario running through my mind.  Byron’s mother was to stay at our place while I was away, to help with the bathing of the children and putting them to bed so that Byron could continue the research he was conducting, without distractions.  The conference was a three day affair, and I hated that we had parted in such anger. When could we make up, and did he even want to? He had stormed out of the house with a perfunctory peck on my wet cheek, and a “Hope you can sort yourself out while you’re away” parting salvo of self-righteousness, for of course, he had been innocent of any wrongdoing.

I wallowed in my pool of self pity, before taking note of the passengers filling the seats around me. I was on an aisle seat, and next to me, on my left, at the window of the small ‘plane, was an Indian gentleman whose body language was pronouncing “Leave me alone. I want to relax” for his eyes were already closed, seat belt strapped, and hands resting benignly on his ample paunch.  Resentment was colouring my vision, but I needed distractions, so began to mentally fill in backgrounds and scenarios for my fellow passengers. The lady in front, whose hairstyle poked aggressively above the seat proclaimed her youth and exuberance in life. Coloured in various shades of pink to purple, the spikes were gelled to symmetrical perfection, and I wondered whether the seat cover would withstand the stains that would surely be left on her departure. Probably a student, I thought, with pierced nose and toe rings, and a boy-friend tattooed from head to toe. Not having watched her alight I was unaware of the child seated next to her, now popping her head over the back of her seat and giving me a beaming smile just before the hostess came round checking seat belts. My ideas changed – there was a young, dark husband waiting for the return of his family after a visit to his in-laws. Or perhaps an aunt was returning her charge after a hectic and educational weekend break.  

Putting stories to the faces around me was always good therapy, and I continued my perusal of passengers through a text book perfect takeoff.

My therapy was working and Byron was receding to the back of my mind, as I looked across the aisle, one down from my row and a story was surfacing about the attractive grey-haired stranger, broad shouldered, sensual, well groomed and well dressed.

Now there was one good looking guy! He looked like a hot-shot business man, no doubt about it. He reeked prosperity and oozed charm. Probably in his early 40’s, not flamboyant, but striking. He had a fleshy face, not puffy or overweight, but strategically padded, over a solid frame body. He was too masculine not to be dangerous, and I noticed the broad wedding band on his left hand as he rested it on his knee. When he turned to smile at the hostess offering drinks and snacks, his profile was arresting and his charm tangible.   I guessed his masculinity to be dangerous, not to be trusted, and wondered if his wife knew where he was, and whether she ever harboured thoughts as I had experienced this morning, feeling a jealousy that had not previously surfaced. What if Byron had to go on business trips and leave me behind while he was enjoying camaraderie with smartly dressed and readily available single, career type ladies of whatever repute? The passenger next to him was identifiable as female only by coiled dark hair, fashionably twisted into an attractive tortoiseshell clip.

Thrusting Byron and his misdemeanours back from my thought mode, I put my fellow passenger into a supposed mid-life crisis where he would need the attentions of a young chick to perpetuate his youthful ego.

The wedding band was ornate, gold bordered by platinum, and definitely expensive. Was his wife a rich heiress whom he had married for her money? Was he able to pursue a life of ease relying on her gratitude for having such a handsome escort? Did she leave him to enjoy his philandering or was she prepared to sacrifice him on the altar of expedience? Was he perhaps her status symbol? Did he have a convenient political position?

Did she have her own dalliances to satisfy her frustrations or was she inclined to jealousy? Did she suffer through sleepless nights of wondering where he was? Was he really at a work caucus? Was it men only? Did he enjoy the felicitations or facilitations of a willing workmate? 

By the end of the flight, I had the man ready for execution, with all my sympathies directed at a poor, unsuspecting wife sitting forlornly at home, waiting for her errant husband to return and profess his love for her with a Judas kiss.

I had been unable to see past him, so was unprepared for the sight of an identical wedding band on the hand of the lady he solicitously helped out of the adjoining seat after the ‘plane landed. He had removed a smart trolley case from the rack above, and now took down a collapsible white stick and offered it caringly to his companion. She was a diminutive lady, with oriental features who smiled adoringly in his direction, and slowly they made their way to the exit. 

Mortified, I gathered my own luggage and reflected on my misguided assumptions. Perhaps Byron was right in his accusations that I was inclined to allow a suspicious or critical side of my nature to surface when I was angry or challenged.

By the time I reached the venue of the conference I was feeling suitably chagrined and guilt ridden.  Byron had not been given a chance to explain even if he had wanted to. If I was in the position I had placed my imaginary character of the handsome passenger’s waiting wife, what should my reaction be? Become the wife he wanted, patiently polishing the shoes he would wear when he walked all over me? Or would I be an Italian type volatile virago waiting to throw a Prima-Dona cadenza on his return? And there I went, off on a tangent again. Bringing my mind into focus, I thrust thoughts of Byron away in order to concentrate on the conference. By the end of the afternoon session I was calmer, and more charitably disposed towards him, looking forward to a refreshing shower, and the prospect of making a phone call to him later. Just to apologise and tell him he is much loved. 

The knock on my hotel room door called my attention to the time. Almost ready for the evening meal I assumed it to be a conference member calling for me. Opening the beautifully carved door, it was the perfume of the Roses arrangement that first caught my attention, then the smiling deliverer. Byron! He held out the card accompanying the bouquet. Trust I am forgiven, I read.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” said Byron sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. Please forgive me, and let us enjoy the surprise evening I had planned, with the full co-operation of your convenor, I might add. I want you to know how special you are.”

His smile was deliciously Byron, my wonderful and devoted husband.  Perhaps my own was remotely oriental, reflecting the love and adoration I had seen on the face of a certain lady who had taught me a valuable lesson. 

When will I learn not to let my imagination run away with me?

Be blessed. Elaine.



Sweet Fellowship

So blessed tonight, having enjoyed our group fellowship meal. What a feast can be enjoyed when each one brings a little. 12 people sat and chatted, and I am reminded of that special passage in Hebrews 10:24,25.
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and goood deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
It is so amazing watching events unfold in our lives, prophesies fulfilled, and as one of the group said this evening, we shouldn't be surprised at what is happening, because indeed, we see the Day approaching, but that means our deeds should be more urgent!
Be blessed, and be at peace.
In Him,
Elaine