“Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.” (Psalm 73:25 NIV)

That verse puts my chocolate cravings into perspective. 

I pray these words of Scripture as I walk around a small local lake. As I begin my walk, I am reminded of the people in heaven whom I am very much looking forward to seeing. And there are a great many things which I desire on earth – success, significance, harmony within my community and, of course, a little bit of chocolate from time to time.

In the same way that I am often short-sighted in how I view ‘reality’, the writer of this psalm was also limited in perspective. The psalmist had been seduced into envying those who seemed to have everything, but in writing this prayer, he was able to refocus.

Through praying this beautiful prayer with the ancient Jews for whom it was first penned and chanted by generations since, our perspectives can also be realigned with reality. We glimpse a bigger picture. God is in heaven. That is what matters. And that fact impacts us, his people here on earth.

(And yes, I know that God is omnipresent. Yet the Bible also portrays him as being in heaven, seated on the throne. The Trinity is a bit of a mind-bender.)

 

Heaven – the place where God reigns

Heaven is referred to throughout Scripture as the place where God rules. This is reflected, for example, in the prayer Jesus taught us which includes the line, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

From time to time, glimpses of heaven have been given to mere mortals. Examples include the heavenly courtroom scenes of Job’s day, Jacob’s dream of the heavens opened and a ladder connecting heaven and earth, the 72 elders who glimpsed heaven in Moses’ day, the visions of Daniel and Ezekiel, the heavens opening and a voice speaking at Jesus’ baptism, and of course the visions given in the revelation to the apostle John. 

And there is even more!

 

Hope of heaven

Heaven is a resting place for the spirits of God’s people who have died, and so much more. God’s people are promised that when we are ‘absent from the body’,  we will be ‘present with the Lord’ (2 Corinthians 5:8). Knowing that we go to be with our Lord gives us tremendous comfort. But there is more besides.

The Bible portrays God enthroned in heaven, but promises that Jesus will return to judge the living and the dead and to usher in his new creation. Heaven and earth will be united, just as a bride and a groom are made one. God will rule in his new creation.

It is a mystery to me as to how it all works, but when Jesus rose from the dead in a physical flesh-and-blood body, he guaranteed that we, his people, will one day be given resurrection bodies too. I wonder what we will look like? How will we act? Will we all be super-smart? We will all be healthy and whole.

We will be given meaningful roles to play in that day too. We will be set up for success, assured of significance and we will live in harmony with all creation. Will there be chocolate in the new creation? If so, it will definitely be ethically sourced. 

 

Tricky questions

I don’t know about you, but I have a lot of questions about heaven that the Bible does NOT answer. Whatever happened to Enoch and Elijah who didn’t die but were taken to be with God? What does Scripture mean when it says that many of the ancients were ‘gathered to their fathers’? How could Samuel’s spirit be summoned from the grave by the witch of Endor? How literal was the story that Jesus told of Lazarus and the rich man? What did Jesus mean when he spoke of ‘Abraham’s bosom’? What was Paul was talking about when he spoke of a man going to the ‘third heaven’?  

My questions reflect a limited perspective. Imagine asking the small child of a molecular biologist what her parent does for a job.  Perhaps that is a bit like asking me about heaven.

 

 

In the meantime, as best I can, I will keep focused on the big picture. Heaven is where God reigns. Heaven is a sure hope for God’s people. My hope of heaven impacts how I live in the here-and-now. Although I often lose focus, as a follower of God, I can pray together with the Psalmist and so realign my perspective along with God’s people through the ages: 

“Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.” (Psalm 73:25 NIV)

“Are you okay?”  I knock on the window of the ute, the motif on its side suggesting that the owner rescues and re-homes dogs. Inside, there is only a silver-haired gentleman. He is slumped over the steering wheel. 

Today was the first of my ‘contemplative walks’ – a spiritual disciple that I’m trying as an experiential part of a subject on missional spirituality. ‘Missional’ means that the ensuing spirituality benefits others and not just myself. I didn’t expect it to be this immediate. 

I had left home with only my water bottle and keys, determined not to be distracted by my phone. I had chosen to meditate on the verse, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10).  I diligently repeated the verse over and over to myself, the first half as I inhaled and the second as I exhaled. I was consciously enjoying the sensation of a cool breeze on my face and noticing my underused leg muscles as I strode down the street. 

And then I saw the ute. The ‘rescue and re-home dogs’ decal caught my attention. But seeing the man slumped over the steering wheel shattered my meditative mood. What should I do? 

I looked around for somebody responsible … or at least somebody with a phone. There was only a group of school kids on the footpath. I figured that I could dash to the medical centre, just down the road, and ask for help … but there was little point in going there until I knew if this was indeed a medical emergency What if he was dead? What if he was inebriated and angry at being disturbed? What if ……?  Deep in my mind, a little voice recited, unbidden, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” 

*****

I approach the vehicle, conscious that my heart is pounding and that the hairs on my arms are standing on end. 

I knock on the window. “Are you okay?”

The driver jerks up in his seat, his bleary eyes struggling to focus. He attempts to open the passenger door window, but fumbles with various knobs for what seems like an eternity. In reality, it only takes a couple of seconds. 

Finally, the window down, he speaks to me. “What?  Oh – yes – I’m fine. I’m just waiting for somebody.”

Man! He could have put his seat back if he wanted a snooze. That way it would be clear to concerned passers-by that he had chosen to nap. He could have driven around the corner to a more secluded area. Seeing him slumped over the steering wheel like that had scared the living daylights out of me. I stomp away, muttering under my breath … though not God-centred meditative muttering, I’m afraid.

*****

Embarrassed to be watched continuing down the street, I turned the corner. At the same time, I turned my thoughts back to my phrase for the day: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” Could God have just given me an object lesson, I wondered? Choosing how best to act in that situation was informed, in no small part, by my awareness that the all-knowing one would know how I responded, even if no-one else did. Yes, I had behaved like a responsible citizen, but that, too, comes from a fear of God. Making wise choices about priorities, how I spend my time, and even what I think about all stems from a healthy fear of the LORD.

 

Just the same, I will take my phone on my next contemplative walk. And I will walk around Lillydale Lake, where plenty of others also walk, rather than roam the roads near my home. But walk again I will. Contemplative walking – I like that concept – I like it very much indeed.

Lights in an operating theatre are bright. Nothing is hidden. And that is as it should be. 

Powerful searchlights scan a disaster scene, looking for signs of life. Onlookers who have lost family members desperately hope that nothing is missed in dark corners of collapsed buildings. 

不留黑暗角落 – literally meaning to ‘leave no dark corner’ – is the name of a current policy in the country I often visit. Transparency in every part of life is its purpose. The authorities want to ensure safety and harmony the community. This includes, of course, an absence of civil unrest. Cameras are everywhere – above roads, in every corner of every business, in bus and train stations, in concert halls and anywhere else people gather. The facial recognition technology used to process the data is powerful. Internet use is monitored. Spending patterns are tracked. Nothing is private.

 

Personal privacy is a bigger deal in most Western cultures than it is in over there. Can you imagine the fuss if a political party tried to institute transparency in every part of life in Australia? Some people even choose to opt out of a national body for consolidating health records because of privacy concerns down here. 

The concept of living life transparently is Biblical. Do a search for ‘light’ in the Bible and you will see that Christians are called to walk in the light, to be light and to attract others to the light. While travelling recently, I happened to spend time in Romans 13 – it was where the Bible class I am part of in Australia (BSF) was up to as well. I sat in an Asian cafe with two cameras above me as I watched the lecture from Romans 13 on my ipad. Romans 13 contains the instruction to “… put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light” (Romans 13:12b). 

Interestingly, this particular verse occurs in the same chapter as Paul’s admonition to oppressed Christians in the Roman Empire to honour and respect local authorities (Romans 13:1-7).  I am quite convinced that the timing of this personal study was a divinely ordained detail … one of many … for which I am grateful. In a government-approved church service I attended while there, the preacher also stated proudly that Christians are not the ones the authorities should be worried about in terms of being a threat to civil unrest. Christians build up society, he proclaimed.

Not all Christians in Asia, however, choose to 100% obey local authorities. Many prefer, whenever possible, to remain active in building up God’s kingdom, despite clear direction at times to abstain.  It was like that long ago, too. Back in the days of the early church, the Apostle Peter and others said to authorities who had forbidden them from speaking of Jesus, “We ought to obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). Going back even further, Hebrew midwives in the days of Moses disobeyed the king of Egypt and let baby boys live because they feared God (Exodus 1:17). Moses’ parents were commended by the writer of Hebrews as ‘heroes of the faith’ because they did not fear the king but hid their baby boy as long as they were able (Hebrews 11:23).

What about foreigners who are permitted to live for a time in ‘creative access nations’, where they are welcome as Christian visitors but not as Christian missionaries? Should they carry out activities such as evangelism and discipleship, training of church leaders and building into a local missions movement? Such activities are ‘grey’ at best and forbidden at worst. Should Christians accept funds sourced from overseas for such purposes, knowing that their host country would be most unhappy about this arrangement? Or should Christians stay entirely within the law, practising their own religion within the limits permitted, and seeking only to radiate light within their immediate spheres of influence?

The answer isn’t black and white. In fact, the one point that I am clear about, is that we must not judge one another regarding our choices on this matter. For the record, my conscience requires me to be a very well-behaved and compliant guest when in Asia. I mostly choose to just ‘let my little light shine’. 

Lights in an operating theatre are blinding. Powerful searchlights scan a disaster area. A country I love has a broad-reaching policy of bringing the actions of every person into the light. But all this fades into insignificance compared to the light which burst into our world some 2000 years ago. 

Jesus said, “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness” (John 12:46 NIV). As his people, we also do our best to ‘appear like lights in the world’ (Philippians 2:15). And as we wait for his return, we say, “Come soon, Lord Jesus, and set our world ablaze with your presence.”

 

So what do computers, shells and hellebores have in common? They all relate to my question last week of, “Who am I?”

 

Computers

My laptop frequently crashes, hangs and freezes these days. Every time it does an automatic update, it gets yet slower. It will barely multitask now, and using an external keyboard and screen – better for people like me who spend hours on the computer each day – is just beyond its ability. Reluctantly, I decided that it is time to upgrade.

I have had positive experiences with both an iphone and an ipad, each of which has lasted for years and been repaired or replaced at minimal cost. In contrast, I have had dreadful experiences of being ripped off and sold pirated software while paying full price for legal versions at a computer market in Asia. More recently, I have felt manipulated by an over-enthusiastic salesman here in Australia who kept bring the prices of goods and services down, down, down if only I would buy NOW.

And so I decided to explore the option of buying a MacBook. They’re expensive. Yes, in the long run, they’re worth it, but the initial outlay is considerable.

But who am I, to splurge sacrificially given funds on a MacBook?

 

Hellebores

This is where those super humble, delicate spring flowers, hellebores, come into the picture. I’ve been studying the verse, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.” (Romans 12:3 NIV) The original readers, proud first-century Roman citizens, were warned against arrogance. But as I gazed at these gorgeous hellebores in modern-day Melbourne, crouching low so I could look up at their bowed heads, it occurred to me that perhaps we can be too ‘humble’. We can refuse to display our gifts in ways which bring God glory and benefit those around us.

Paul instructed those Roman readers to think of themselves with sober judgement, in accordance with the faith God had distributed to each of them. I wonder about myself. I dabble in writing, translation and academia, as well as spend too much time on administration and not enough time on conference calls. All of this requires a computer. A good-quality computer which will last more than a couple of years, resilient when bounced about in a backpack, and which will manage an ergonomically advantageous monitor and keyboard when at home – that is what I need.

Am I being hellebore-like, stifling God-given gifts with inadequate equipment? Oh yes, there are issues I need to work through, including how I manage my time, finances and the dreaded marketing of what I write. But God has provided before. Shells are one way he has cared well for me in the past.

 

Shells

Having taken the plunge and committed to buy a MacBook, the salesman said, “What is your computer’s name? Call it Seniqua. That sounds sassy.” Of course, I needn’t name my computer, but I enjoy a bit of silliness, as the salesman had sensed, and decided to call it ‘Shibboleth’.

Why ‘Shibboleth’? According to www.dictionary.com, ‘shibboleth’ is “… a peculiarity of pronunciation, behaviour, mode of dress, etc., that distinguishes a particular class or set of persons.” This concept relates directly to my research project on how language use is part of the identity of a small Tibetan people group in Asia. ‘Shibboleth’ is also just a fun-sounding word, though rather too grand for daily use, which is why the computer will be called ‘Shelby’ for short.

As an aside, in ancient Israel, the word ‘Shibboleth’ was used to identify one clan from another with disastrous results for outsiders. Read Judges 12:5-6 if you’re interested.

‘Shelby’ … shells … again. Shells have been a theme of this current chapter of life. I’ve written about this before in several blog posts – you can read them on https://developingpassionatepatience.blogspot.com/ if you’re interested.

Shells became a theme just after I moved back to Australia ‘for good’ in 2015 with the generous provision of a car, called ‘Shelly’ because of half its number plate, ‘5HL’. This was followed soon after by various moments involving shells when I sensed God’s presence, reassurance and words of hope before, during and after cancer treatment. In addition to special moments meditating by the ocean when shells have caught my attention, my specialist is named Dr Pearly, the chemo nurse was a vibrant Christian named Shelly and the sweet short-term cross-cultural missionary nurse who often looked after me on the ward was named Shelina. I recently learned that my own second name, Margaret, means ‘Pearl’. Shells are everywhere I look, it seems, and they remind me of God’s provision, plans and purpose for me.

And now I have a computer named ‘Shelby’.

 

Call it what you will, but I’m calling this computer a gift from above. My hope and sure expectation is that Shelby will be an important tool in the blossoming of writing, research, translation and serving my team during this next chapter of life.

So what do computers, shells and hellebores have in common? They all relate to my question, “Who am I?” I am a woman of God, called to think of myself with sober judgement in accordance with the gifts God has given me, not thinking of myself more highly than I ought but neither lowering my head, hellebore-like, paralysed by poor self-worth. A good computer is a necessary tool for this current season of life. Just as God has called me, cared for me and commissioned me, so he has for each of us who are his people.

And because I enjoy naming inanimate objects that are important parts of my everyday life, that playfulness being part of the unique person God has created me to be, I have given my MacBook a name. ‘Shelby’, short for Shibboleth. I hope and expect that Shelby shall be by my side for years to come, reminding me of who I am – one of God’s own people – and enabling me to serve him well.

“Ask the streets for the answer,” says Street Wisdom[i]. “Come with a question – not too big and not too small – and see what the streets have to say.” Street Wisdom leaders instruct participants to “Slow down. Walk VERY slowly. Notice patterns. Look for synchronicity.”

Street Wisdom is not a religious movement … not openly, at any rate. Street wisdom is basically an exercise in mindfulness. It’s becoming quite a phenomenon in our modern world, and is interesting to think about in light of what the Bible has to say about wisdom in the streets.

 

Biblical Wisdom

“Wisdom cries aloud in the street,
in the markets she raises her voice;
at the head of the noisy streets she cries out;
at the entrance of the city gates she speaks….”  (Proverbs 1:20-21 ESV)

“Does not wisdom call?
Does not understanding raise her voice?
On the heights beside the way,
at the crossroads she takes her stand;
beside the gates in front of the town,
at the entrance of the portals she cries aloud….”  (Proverbs 8:1-3 ESV)

The first nine chapters of the book of Proverbs are written from the perspective of the woman, Wisdom, who calls out to those who will listen. She is depicted as being in the streets, beside the way, at the crossroads and beside the gates in front of the town.

Centuries later, the half-brother of our Lord Jesus, James, also wrote about wisdom.  “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him” (James 1:5 ESV). James points us to the source of wisdom. He contrasts godly wisdom with jealousy and selfish ambition, which he calls ‘earthly, unspiritual and demonic’ (James 3:13-18).

 

A mini-retreat

It’s not ‘street wisdom’ … not the secular sort. But in my mostly-monthly mini-retreats, I purposefully slow down for half a day. Sometimes I stay home, and other times I go somewhere beautiful.  I usually use the Navigator’s pattern[ii] in which I break the time into three one-hour blocks. This last time, having just been exposed to ‘street wisdom’, I took parts two and three to the streets. Don’t think that I’m boasting about having ‘half-day retreats’. In my line of work, I ought to treat them as priority to keep me on track, and very much appreciate the flexibility to do so.

One key difference between standard ‘Street Wisdom’ and a God-centred retreat is, naturally, the focus. Nevertheless, I found myself journaling on the topic of ‘the question’ that I intended to seek God about later in yesterday’s mini-retreat, though came up with five possibilities rather than a single question. With my rambling thoughts now on paper, my mind was freed up to get on with the business of worship. Using a combination of ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ and Psalm 27, along with pages of journaling, I spent a delightful hour. I sensed a call to repent… again … of perfectionism and procrastination. This pair of vices are a bit of a ‘besetting sin’ for me.

The official ‘Street Wisdom’ people encourage practitioners to look for synchronicity. I prefer to think of it as God’s hand. The second part of the retreat, when I moved to a ‘Sushi and Coffee’ shop, was full of divine touches. The second section of my mini-retreat is usually when I pray for others. As I passed my letterbox on the way out, I picked up a new book about a midwife in Africa which we’re reading in book club[iii] – I like it so much I had ordered a hard copy. It inspired me to pray for friends who work over there. The sushi shop is Chinese run, and I figure that the owners are Christians, based on the verses they display on their chalkboards. That inspired me to pray for the Chinese church.  I watched other customers as I sipped my coffee and savoured my sushi. Some of what I observed prompted prayer for others in my life too.  I noticed and appreciated people far more through this exercise than I usually would.

The final part of the retreat, the self-focused part, seemed almost like an addendum.  My ‘question’, which I had intended to choose from the five possibilities I had drafted just two hours earlier, and which had seemed all-consuming at the time, had now shrunk into its proper perspective. As it turned out, I had one single answer to all five of my ‘possible questions’. Here they are, with the single answer:

1. Where do I start with promised language mentoring?

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – I had my first session later that afternoon, and it went well.)

2. I have SO much translation work to do this month – what can I do?!        

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – do it one phrase at a time)

3. Should I book tickets for planned travel next month and specifically should I visit Shanxi where I lived for many years?

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – I went home and booked tickets!)

4. How can I increase my productivity, especially with writing?

         (Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – just do it, hence this blog post.)

 5. Health and fitness goals too often slide – what can I do?

        (Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – it’s a matter of one good choice at a time.)

 

Look to Wisdom for the Answers

The official ‘Street Wisdom’ movement encourages practitioners to ‘look to the streets for the answers’.  They are so near the truth … so very near … and my suggestion is that they are looking for God. Wisdom is calling aloud in the streets, beside the way, at the crossroads and at entrances to our towns.  No wonder our fellow human beings are looking there for answers to their questions. May they find God as they search.

 

Let me close with the words of a truly wise man, C.S. Lewis. The following quote ‘just happened’ to be at the top of the page for this week in my diary … a week in which I was exposed to ‘street wisdom’. There is another example of ‘synchronicity’ in the hands of a sovereign Lord. Lewis said,
“We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito[iv].”

[i] You can read more about the movement here:  https://www.streetwisdom.org

[ii] https://www.navigators.org/resource/spend-extended-time-prayer/

[iii] https://velvetashes.com/category/book-club/

[iv] C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer (San Diego: Harvest, 1964), 75.

Rainbows have been a symbol of God’s promise to never again destroy the earth by flood long before they became associated with the LGBT movement. Last weekend, here in the eastern suburbs of Melbourne, we enjoyed spectacular rainbows on both Saturday and Sunday … along with enduring a lot of wet, rainy, miserable weather. It got me thinking about rainbows.

 

God’s covenant with the earth

The rainbow is a sign of the covenant God made with all living things on the earth. You can read about it in the first half of Genesis 9.  We call it ‘the Noahic covenant’ but it was really a promise of God to Noah and all living things on the earth – a promise that God would never again destroy the earth by flood.

Yet although the earth in Noah’s day had been cleansed of what sounds like chaos and wickedness involving not just humans but also the spirit world (read Genesis 6:1-8 if you’re game), it was still not purified. We can see that just by reading to the end of Genesis chapter 9. Right after the pronouncement of ‘the Noahic covenant’, we immediately spiral down to a written record of drunken behaviour, the dishonour of an elder, a curse, slavery and inequality in the world. Things are no better today, as a quick perusal of the daily news headlines attest. In 2 Peter 3:6-7, we read of another cleansing to come. Come soon, Lord Jesus, and set your world aright.

 

“Clothed in rainbows of living colour”

One of my favourite modern hymns, ‘Revelation Song’ (look it up and listen), contains the line ‘Clothed in rainbows of living colour’.  The author of the song, Jennie Lee, took these words from Biblical descriptions of ‘the Son of Man’ as recorded in both Ezekiel 1:28 and Revelation 4:3. In both cases, the rainbow wasn’t exactly a bow. It was complete, with no ends, encircling the one who sits on the throne in heaven.

Now that’s something to meditate on. You can’t meditate for long while looking at a rainbow on earth, because they’re pretty transient. But you can imagine. Sit still, turn off the radio, close your eyes and just picture Jesus’ radiance which is so bright that is like pure sunlight refracted into its various parts. I did just that … and slipped into a delightful sleep, losing two hours of the afternoon. Perhaps give it a go sitting upright and with a timer set. You won’t regret it.

 

Insights from Chinese characters

As you know, I enjoy looking at the various parts that make up Chinese characters and gleaning gems of enriched understanding of them. But when I first came to the Chinese character for ‘rainbow’ – 彩虹  (caihong) – I was stumped. The first character 彩means ‘colourful’ and really just describes the actual word for rainbow – 虹 – so we shall only focus on 虹, the second character. It is  made up of two pictographs – a worm or insect – 虫, and hard work – 工. Both parts sound somewhat like the Chinese word ‘hong’ for rainbow, though neither is quite the same. The character for ‘worm’ (虫) is pronounced ‘chong’ and that for ‘hard work’ (工)is pronounced is ‘gong’.

I wonder … I just wonder … whether the Chinese character for rainbow actually does contain a deep truth. God gave the rainbow as a sign of his covenant with the earth – with all living creatures on the earth. We read in Genesis 9:20 that Noah was ‘a man of the soil’ and that he ‘proceeded to plant a vineyard’. Could it just be that the Chinese character for rainbow – 虹 – actually reflects the role of those worms 虫and of man’s hard work 工 in managing the earth? God did, remember, make a covenant with all living things on earth, and he declared the rainbow a symbol of that. I don’t know that my explanation is right. If we could just go back to when Chinese characters were first written, over 5000 years ago, we could find out. If nothing else, I won’t forget how to write ‘rainbow’ in Chinese again.

 

Rainbows are a reminder of God’s covenant with the earth and provide us a fleeting glimpse of his glory. Yes, the rainbow symbol is used by some in our confused day and age to represent other matters too, but that’s only temporary. What is eternal is God’s sovereignty over this earth, his glory on the throne of heaven and his commitment to us. Wow.

Good grief.  How do we grieve well?

This post is not inspired by personal tragedy, but my heart does ache for friends in the midst of sadness right now. I have also just read an excellent little book which I can recommend without hesitation –‘Finding God in the Hard Times’ by Matt and Beth Redman, and it has got me thinking too.

Grief isn’t just about losing loved ones of course. It can be about losing a cherished role, dashed hopes or broken relationships. Sometimes we choose to embrace loss, not least when we decide to leave one community and move to another – something which cross-cultural workers know all too well.

 

Grief hurts.  Pain is not nice. I am the first to admit to being pain-averse, having just paid a lot of money for optional dental work to numb sensitive teeth. That’s a little wimpy, perhaps, but the pain of sensitive teeth is pointless. Other types of pain, however, are best recognized and permitted to throb. Trying to numb grief is not usually a good idea, though there are times when it is necessary to get on with tasks at hand for a while.

 

My culture – an Australian from a British background – doesn’t do grief well … in my humble opinion. We pride ourselves on having ‘a stiff upper lip’ and ‘being strong’. ‘Every cloud has a silver lining,’ we say. ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn,’ we may add.  ‘God works all things together for good,’ some Christians quote, usually taking this precious promise out of context. Some of us think it admirable to restrain emotions, even when our hearts are breaking. We don’t want to make those around us feel uncomfortable, nor do we want to be seen as ‘weak’.

 

In contrast, people of some other cultures are quick to display grief. Chinese people grieve the loss of loved ones in different ways according to local customs and the circumstances of the death. There is often a period of time during which family members wear black armbands or pins, avoid brightly coloured clothing and refrain from any festivities including weddings and Chinese New Year celebrations.  Traditional Tibetan ladies remove the coloured cords they usually braid into their hair, the colours which proudly identify the communities to which they belong. In Thailand, the whole country wore dull colours for a full year following the death of their beloved king a couple of years back.

 

Grief is a constant theme in Scripture too. The Bible is full of laments, not just about death but other dashed hopes and painful afflictions too.  There is even a whole book of such poetry called, unsurprisingly, ‘Lamentations’. God wants us to bring our sadness and struggles to him. Ancient Israelites, mind you, were roundly criticized and punished for allowing grief and confusion to turn into bitterness and complaining (1 Corinthians 10:9-11). They weren’t to ignore it though. They were encouraged to turn to God in their pain and re-state their trust in him, even in the midst of grief, as we can see in many communal Psalms that they used in that era. (Examples include Psalms 44, 60, 74, 79, 85 and 90.) In the same way, modern-day Christians are encouraged to humble ourselves and bring our anxieties to God (2 Peter 5:6-7). We are never told to stuff it down deep and ‘put smiles on our dials’. As a community of God’s people, Christians are told to ‘rejoice with those who rejoice’ and ‘mourn with those who mourn’ (Romans 12:15). In my community, I suspect we are better at the former than the latter.

 

What does this mean for us here and now? I don’t like pain, whether it be mine or a share of yours. However, I hope that as a maturing woman of God, I can overcome my cultural preferences and choose to be Biblical in the way I deal with grief and disappointments, be they mine or yours. May we manage our pain in a culturally appropriate way – according to the culture of God’s kingdom. Name it – share it – be real. No stiff upper lip is required or desired.

Flowers and photography, café culture and Korean cuisine – my recent trip to Asia was full of things that delight me. Just for the record, it wasn’t all fun and games. I put in a lot of hard work too, some of which was pleasurable, and much of which just had to be done.

 

‘Desires’ became the theme of the trip. A helpful discussion with a colleague about the truth that God knows how we are designed and chooses to use our desires in his work stemmed from a comment I made about expecting suffering. Yes, suffering is a reality too, but I emerged from that conversation with a focus on God’s kindness and individual attention to us. I shared this insight with a fellow traveller as we bounced along a mountain road. Later that day, she turned to the devotional book she was reading on her phone (see the screenshot) and found almost exactly the same sentiments there. We both took that as God’s encouragement to enjoy all that we were experiencing.

 

Godly desires please God. However, it would be remiss not to mention that the Bible also warns against satisfying the ‘desires of the flesh[1]’ and, shockingly, even refers to the desires of the devil as reflected in people[2]. These desires are obviously not helpful in participating in God’s work nor are they good for us personally. Perhaps ‘desires of the flesh’ include things which bring short-term gratification but long-term problems, such as overindulgence in activities or foods we enjoy. I wonder if the desires of the devil include unhealthy striving for prestige, power and prosperity.

 

Sometimes I feel guilty about my current lifestyle. I get to travel plenty – something which I don’t take for granted. I enjoy plenty of people-time, unlike my last role in an office which I found trying though willingly accepted for a season. I enjoy learning, and academia is a part of my current role, as is dabbling in language study. The café culture is something I enjoy, and I’m quick to support the blossoming café culture in Asia. A couple of significant conversations took place in cafes this last trip, one planned and the other (divinely) coincidental. The joy I get from amateur photography also fits well with regular trips as a tourist to an area which, in recent years, has been marketed as a ‘photography corridor’.

 

I wrote down these thoughts about desires on paper in a café in Asia. I am typing them up weeks later. At the time, and as true today as it was then,  I penned these words:

“As this trip draws to an end, I look back with gratitude and forward with hope. We serve a good God who loves to satisfy our desires.”

 

[1] Ephesians 2:3

[2] John 8:44

 

It felt like the last six years of my life had been pointing towards this moment. The sun’s warmth radiated our backs. In front of us were two classrooms, erected here on a field strewn with summer flowers. These rooms, adapted from shipping containers, are for outsiders like us to have a base for regular involvement in this community – the community to which I had sensed God’s call back in 2012. We were meeting the man who holds the keys to the community – the monk who is effectively, if not legally, the one in charge around here.

 

At which point a blasted bee buzzed relentlessly about my face.

 

According to the worldview of Tibetans, it was entirely possible and even likely that the spirit world should intersect with the physical world through a humble bee. Here we were, people of God, enthusiastic about making an impact on this community. Our enemy, the devil, would not be happy. Knowing my fear of bees, stemming from bad reactions to bee stings as a child, it was quite possible that the enemy would force me off the property with a bee.

 

According to the worldview of we scientific Westerners, I reasoned that something in my body must be appealing to bees … they always seem to buzz around me … and that this one was especially persistent and at a most inopportune moment. I prayed – as most Christians do when in the grip of a crisis – and asked that the bee be kept from stinging me. That would be exceptionally inconvenient.

 

Disregarding further thoughts of worldviews for the time-being, I threw my jacket over my head – not so helpful when in conversation with a monk – and, after a moment or two, left the property.

 

Was it a demonic bee that drove me off the land that day? I don’t know. But I do know that our enemy “prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). He is no less active in agnostic Australia as he is in Tibetan communities in which there is a real respect for and fear of the spirit world.  In my country, the enemy wreaks havoc in less obvious ways, including (in my opinion) an unhealthy pallour about our culture due to an overemphasis on immediate gratification. That’s a topic for another blog post.

 

I may have left the field that day, but I’ll be back. I hope to return in autumn when the flowers have finished and the bees are quietly enjoying honey in their hives. May all of us who know God resist the enemy and stand firm, for we are not alone in our struggles, as the apostle Peter encourages readers in 1 Peter 5:9. Though it is extra challenging to stand firm when a bee bizarrely buzzes around your face!

Sudoku is a puzzle I rather enjoy. Sometimes, I get a bit stuck. Then I go away and leave it for a while. When I come back, suddenly, in a different light, everything makes sense. The numbers all fit in the right places.  ‘Aha’, I say.

 

Today’s conversation with a contact here left me feeling like a Sudoku puzzle that is finally coming together. And yet, unlike a Sudoku puzzle nearing completion, this game is far from over. Without going into details, since other people are involved, let me just say that I came out of a meeting today with a deeply contented ‘Aha’.

 

It seems like significant strands of life are all fitting into place – academic study – dreams of being a regular traveller to the mountains here – language learning – English teaching – even the management of annoying dietary issues. It’s early days yet, but I am hopeful that, 5 ½ years after prayerfully deciding to focus on a particular minority group here, I’m about to get some traction up. (I’ve blogged about that ‘call’ before.)

 

This week’s blog post is really just a note. There is lots I’d love to write about, but I have two assignments to finish for college over these next two weeks, as well as people to see and places to go.

 

I’d like to finish with a public note of thanks to the One who holds all the strands of our lives in his hands. Sometimes, life can be confusing and uncomfortable, like a Sudoku that seems simply unworkable. God’s sovereignty is just as real then as it is when everything is going well. I am quite sure that there will be difficulties ahead for me too, not least because we are engaged in a spiritual battle. Today, however, I am thoroughly enjoying the ‘Aha’ moment.  Ahhhhhhhhhh.