Peace lilies and parables

For my birthday this year, one of my best friends gave me a very special present: my first ever plant! It is a peace lily (for us non-gardening types, you may know it by its less scientific name, the-one-with-the-wide-green-leaves-and-the-upright-white-flower-bits).

I was promised it (and the other plants we bought on the same expedition) would be ideal for a novice gardener like myself. ‘Low maintenance’. ‘Hardy’. 

Six months later, and I’m pleased to report that my plants are still alive and – for the most part – well. Although we have had our ups and downs.

Particularly my peace lily. It turns out lilies need a fair amount of watering, and it took us a while to get into a routine. Especially after I went away for a few days.

When I came back, I could see its leaves drooping – and drooping. I panicked. I watered it, but the next morning it still looked sad. I was convinced this was the end. Surely I couldn’t coax my plant back from the brink of its drooping decline.

I talked to my friend (who is an excellent gardener), and she told me to take it to my laundry sink and leave it under a running tap for five minutes, then let it drain in the sink overnight. I was skeptical, but did exactly what she said.

The next morning, when I woke up I couldn’t believe my eyes. My plant had gone from looking like a forlorn, disgruntled swan and the lilies had returned to their perky upright selves.

Peace lily

What a difference water makes! I could see the difference for myself.

Isaiah 58:11

The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones. You shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

If you’ve ever been thirsty, you know how amazing that first sip of water tastes. If we hadn’t ever experienced drought, we wouldn’t appreciate what it would mean to be connected to a source of water that won’t fail. A watered garden means that a gardener is tending it. And unlike me, who may occasionally forget to water my plant, God is there continually to guide us, to satisfy our soul and to give us strength.

Throughout winter, I watched in dismay as the lilies changed from white to brown, and eventually dropped off. My peace lily became all leaves and no lilies. I kept watering it. And in spring, I was so excited to glimpse the first lily as it bloomed – and then another – and another (I’m now up to four!). Each one seems like a miniature miracle to me. 

In parables, Jesus often uses examples from nature – vines, branches, fruit. Things that grow. Things that require care. And things that flower, and bring forth fruit.

John 15: 5, 8 

I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing… By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples. 

 

The Power of Accountability

I went to the gym today at 6 am for the first time in years.

I didn’t want to go; I was hungry, tired and cozy in my bed at 5:45 am when the alarm went off.  But I had promised two lovely people that I would be there and I did not want to disappoint them.  So I got dressed in the dark, tip-toed past the two boys’ rooms, and got in the car wondering, “Why did I sign up for this?”

I got stuck behind the rubbish truck all the way down the street, so I had a few more minutes to reflect.  “I’ll be glad I did it afterwards,” I told myself.  “It’s a good way to start the morning,” I reasoned.  “I paid a lot of money for the membership,” I reminded myself.

By the time the workout started, I was feeling more optimistic.  In the middle, I wanted to give up (and cancel my membership).  In the end, the three of us were exhausted but pleased with our first morning workout session together.

A passage from Ecclesiastes came to mind:

Two are better than one,

because they have a good return for their labor:

If either of them falls down,

one can help the other up.

But pity anyone who falls

and has no one to help them up.

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.

But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered,

two can defend themselves.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

Accountability is a word we don’t like very much; we like freedom and independence.  We don’t like the idea of burdening someone nor depending on anybody.

But the truth is, we need each other to stand strong.  Not only for the times when we need emotional support, but for the times when we need to stand up for something or someone. When truth is swept under, when the vulnerable need our voices, and when our conscience demands it but our courage is weak, we need accountability to push us to do right.

So pray for an accountability partner who is willing to ask you hard questions.  Find someone with whom you can be honest and vulnerable.  As you share and grow together, you may find that your friendship becomes a bond that “is not quickly broken” – a blessing for a lifetime.

He calls us friend

One of the greatest blessings in life are good friends.

When we close our eyes and picture a good time, fond memory, or favourite pastime, most likely we are remembering moments with our friends.

Some of us are fortunate enough to have at least one “friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24).

Now imagine Jesus, the Creator and Sustainer of life, turning to us and saying, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends . . . I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:13,15b).

Did you catch that?  Jesus calls us friends!

It is easy to read this passage in John (or any passage in the Bible for that matter) and hear the impersonal voice of an audio book narrator.  But go back and picture your best friend, who knows he or she only has a few more hours to live, leaning over to you and saying with trembling lips and soulful eyes, “You have been my friend…”

Wouldn’t you clutch your friend’s hand and say, “Thank you for being my best friend!  I don’t know what I’m going to do without you!”  Wouldn’t you weep if your friend’s death was to save your life?

Jesus could have saved us in a condescending swoop, like the way we release bugs outdoors instead of killing them.  Or He could have saved us like a superhero in spandex, using his powers to do the maximum good for as many unknown faces as possible.  He would still be worthy of worship.

But Jesus comes into the every day.  He walks with us.  He eats with us.  He talks with us and cries with us.  He knows us each by name.

Even His enemies saw that Jesus was not an esoteric snob or unapproachable celebrity with his posse of “cool guys”; they were annoyed that he was “a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Matthew 11:19).  He treated them as His equals; He was “Immanuel” – one with us.

When Judas betrayed Him, Jesus still called him “friend” (Matthew 26:50).  It was not said with sarcasm, but with sorrow as His heart was broken.

In those last few hours of HIs life, Jesus poured our His heart to His closest friends, the twelve disciples.  He washed their feet and shared one last meal with them.  He called them friends and prayed for them.  After they had all fled and even denied knowing Him, after He had been abused and crucified, He prayed that they would be forgiven.  Then He died for them – and us.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends…” (John 15:13).

Jesus extends His friendship to us – He says tenderly, earnestly, “Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, ad they with me” (Revelation 3:20).

By saying yes to opportunities to know Him better, we are venturing into the best friendship we could ever have.  It may take several months or years, but we will come to know and love a God who longs to call us friends.

Giving our Best for the Worst of Times

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way –” (A Tale of Two Cities, first line)

Charles Dickens’ description of the tumultuous years leading up to the French Revolution came to mind the other day as I was listening to the news on the radio.

The U.S. Election, terrorist attacks, crimes of fear, hate, and greed, spread of disease and rise of global warming – everything I heard made me despair in the state of the world.

But looking around me as I drove to my friend’s house in Melbourne, I saw parents leisurely pushing posh prams to the park, cafes bustling with business, and markets fully stocked of diverse produce.

How is it that in one corner of the world, there is a surplus of food, money, and peace while just around the bend there is such suffering, both silent and exposed?

Dickens was right; it is possible to live in a parallel universe where  pompous and poor, entitled and empty, indifferent and invisible are neighbours.  The growing inequality and injustice lead to a revolution that shatters and self-destroys.  Living for oneself and one’s own pursuit of happiness inevitably leads to a reckoning that is catastrophic not only for the guilty but the innocent. 

If his masterpiece isn’t warning enough for us of the dangers of indifference, let us turn to the greatest classic:

“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” (1 John 3:16-18)

God’s Word is a truth mirror that reveals the injustice, hypocrisy, and sinfulness in our souls and society.  God does not mince words; He cuts through our complacency to spur us to change.

So what can we do?

Laying down one’s life for our brothers and sisters doesn’t always require the guillotine or the cross.  It does however ask for compassion and love in action.

This week is Homelessness Week, as Bronwyn presented last week at church.  Here’s the list she presented on what we can do:

  1. Donate money, food, beanies, scarves, gloves, warm coats, and toiletries to the homeless directly or to organisations like Salvos, St Vincents, Wesley, Melbourne City Mission, ADRA, Pinch-a-poo, Swags for the homeless, Kids Under Cover, etc.
  2. Write to your local MP re: the need for affordable housing
  3. Volunteer at a drop-in centre, food van, or soup kitchen
  4. Donate a house
  5. Fundraise and raise awareness
  6. “Like” the charities on Facebook and share the posts
  7. Join campaigns towards affordable housing
  8. Participate in the Homelessness week events and activities Aug 1-8
  9. Volunteer time and money regularly

We may not be able to feed the world, but we can feed one. We may not be able to prevent wars, but we can heal personal relationships. We may not be able to reform national or international politics, but we can vote.  We may not be able to change hearts, but we can humble ours. 

Jesus has left us an example of laying down His life for us.  As we too carry His cross of unselfish service and sacrifice, we will experience true satisfaction in our search for meaning and security.  As we love as He loves, we will find the rest and community that our souls crave in this unsettled life of isolated screen time.

Then we can echo the sentiment reflected in the last line of A Tale of Two Cities, though lesser known than its first, but far more beautiful for its redemptive refrain (spoiler alert! the protagonist realises that individual sacrifice and love, however insignificant it may seem in the scale of the darkness and disaster all around, can impact generations and leave a legacy that endures):

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known” (A Tale of Two Cities, last line).

It Takes a Village

IMG_20160607_132038Nurturing a life is hard.  The nine months in the womb is just the beginning.  Once a child is born, he has to be fed (at first, every two hours night and day), burped, changed, bathed, and loved.  It takes a herculean effort not just from the mum, but from everyone around who is supporting that new life.

Such has been the case for us; Roy has been settling the baby at 4 am, my dad has been taking care of Micah all day and even in the middle of the night, my mum has rarely left the kitchen since she arrived in Melbourne, and my sister has changed more nappies than she can count.  Not to mention the midwives, nurses, doctors, and staff at the hospital and council that make sure that Joshua is healthy and thriving. It takes a village to raise a child.

Nurturing a spiritual life also takes a community.  Peter writes to churches, “Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good” (1 Peter 2:2,3 NIV).  Those who desire to grow in faith and experience need a community who can provide the support needed for the believer to get enough of that spiritual milk.  That community consists of those who are able to teach the Bible, extend hospitality and love, share spiritual discernment, proclaim the Word, and help in various ways.

Church attendance is important not only for the opportunity to worship, but also for the opportunity to belong to that community of support.  As we learn to trust and lean on each other (for prayer, friendship, partnership in ministry, etc.) we become the body of Christ:

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work. Ephesians 4:11-16 (NIV).

Even though I am sleep deprived, sore, and unfit for public eyes, I am so happy to see Joshua growing – and proud that I am contributing to his amazing 1-kilo weight gain since birth.  I am so grateful for all those around me who are helping to shape Joshua’s present and future health and happiness; I could not do it without them.

Imagine the joy we will experience when we witness the growth of new believers and realise that we are part of the community who persevered together to make that happen.  Imagine the thrill of having a new sister or brother in Christ.  Imagine the love we will share as our church family grows in number and in strength as each of us does our part.

God is Big Enough

Today was my last day of (paid) full-time work; tomorrow I go on maternity leave for the remainder of the year.

I have mixed feelings: on the one hand, I am looking forward to concentrating on being a full-time mum to two boys; on the other hand, I am nervous.  Having one active toddler to care for is tiring enough, how can I care for Micah and a newborn?  I know millions of women have done it before, but it all seems so daunting.

I am comforted, however, by the thought that God cares about our personal fears and challenges. He empowers us with strength and wisdom to make it through each day, whether it is with young children or with an unreasonable boss or with angry commuters.

God can downsize from the Universal to the human; from the Creator to the created in a cradle, from the Saviour to the friend.  And having heard our troubles, He then is big enough to change hearts and history.

Micah loves singing the song, “My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do (clap, clap! repeat) The mountains are His, the valleys are His, the stars are His handiwork, too (clap, clap!) My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do – for you!”

I am internalising this song as I face a new bend in the road.  My God is big enough for the sleepless nights and endless days, big enough for the unknown future and the regrettable past, big enough for the highs and lows of life’s journey.

With such a guide, we can echo the psalmist:

The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23, NIV

May you turn to God today with the smallest of cares to share, believing that He is big enough to move heaven and earth – for you!

Into the Desert

God has a pattern of leading His people into the desert. What possible point is there in spending all that time in all that empty space? Why did Jesus spend 40 days there? What were the temptations about? And what relevance do they have to us in modern Australia, a country with the desert at its heart?

Download the Discussion Questions.

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