Recently returned from Canberra and look what met us. Well into Autumn now and look at ma roses! Look!
And wee Molly having a snooze in the sunshine.
...and a scripture that comes to mind - can't remember where it's from, probably Isaiah. Bit of a paraphrase here but you'll get the gist...'though your sins be scarlett they will be white as snow.' Wow! What a verse! What an amazing prophesy. How amazing is that! Don't forget when you see a white flower or a wee white doggie...
At Robyn's the other day tacking a quilt I've been working on. For anyone who doesn't know what 'tacking a quilt' means it is the process of tacking three layers, (top, batting and backing fabric) together in preparation for the actual quilting process. Robyn's husband Alan made this wonderful frame which makes the process very easy. It's a lovely feeling when it comes off the frame, all lovely and quilty! To see some of Robyn's own quilts, go to www.robynginnquilts.com.
Dear Robyn sent me a link to the blind singer Ken Medema's TREE SONG. She has loved this song for a long time, and Alan managed to find it on the internet. Unfortunately, it is only a sound recording, but it gives you an idea of his wonderful voice, spirit and of course the song. I downloaded the lyrics and have sung along with him a couple of times. Lovely song to learn to sing to the children.
http://kiwi6.com/file/w27mp6l2y6
This is an image from a number of years ago, probably when Robyn was a young mum when she first heard this song. He normally sings along with the piano, so this is a different sound to what he normally does.
...Have you ever felt baffled by your internal resistance to prayer? By the existential dread of silence, solitude, and being alone with God? By the way you drag yourself out of bed for morning praise, shuffle off to worship with the sacramental slump of the terminally ill, endure nightly prayer with stoic resignation, knowing that 'this too shall pass'?
Beware the imposter!
The flase self specializes in treacherous disguise. He is the lazy part of self, resisting the effort, asceticism, and discipline that intimacy with God requires. He inspires rationalizations, such as, "My work is my prayer; I'm too busy; prayer should be spontaneous so I just pray when I am moved by the Spirit." The flase self's lame excuses allow us to maintain the status quo.
The flase self dreads being alone, knowing 'that if he would become silent within and without he would discover himself to be nothing. He would be left with nothing but his own nothingness, and to the false self which claims to be everything, such a discovery would be his undoing.'
Oviously, the impostor is antsy in prayer. He hungers for excitement, craves some mood-altering experience. He is depressed when deprieved of the spotlight. The false self is frustrated because he never hears God's voice. He cannot, since God sees no one there. Prayer is death to every identity that does not come from God. The false self flees silence and solitude because they remind him of death...
The impostor's frenetic lifestyle cannot bear the inspection of death because it confronts him with the unbearable truth: "There is no substance under the things with which you are clothed. You are hollow and your structure of pleasure and ambitions has no foundation. You are objectified in them. But they are all destined by their very contingency to be destroyed. And when they are gone there will be nothing left of you but your own nakedness and emptiness and hollowness, to tell you that you are your own mistake."
The vivisection of the impostor's anatomy appears to be a masochistic exercise in self-flagellation. Isn't such morbid introspection self-defeating? Is this really necessary?
I maintain that is is not only necessary but indispensable for spiritual growth. The impostor must be called out of hiding, accepted, and embraced. He is an integral part of my total self. Whatever is denied cannot be healed. To acknowledge humbly that I often inhabit an unreal world, that I have trivilized my relationship with God, and that I am driven by vain ambition is the first blow in dismantling my glittering image. The honesty and willingness to stare down the false self dynamites the steel trapdoor of self-deception.
Peace lies in acceptance of truth. Any facet of the shadow self that we refuse to embrace becomes the enemy and forces us into defensive postures...
As we come to grips with our own selfishness and studity we make friends with the impostor and accept that we are impoverished and broken and realize that, if we were not, we would be God. The art of gentleness toward ourselves leads us to being gentle with others - and is a natural prerequisite for our presence to God in prayer.
Hatred of the impostor is actually self-hatred. The impostor and I constitute one person. Contempt for the false self gives vent to hositility, which manifests itself as general irritability - an irritation at the same faults in others that we hate in ourselves. Self-hatred always results in some form of self-destructive behaviour.
Accepting the reality of our sinfulness means accepting our authentic self. Judas could not face his shadow; Peter could. The latter befriended the impostor within; the former raged against him.
Another excerpt from The Impostor in Brennan Manning's book ABBA'S CHILD
I sat at the dining-room table with camera in hand and took zillions of photographs of Ms Blue Wren and her wee brother? I assume they were quite young as they were very fluffy. I laughed out loud at some of the antics of Ms Blue Wren. Here she is trying to get a hold on the geranium. She kept trying to get herself upright and would fall backwards and try and try to get the better of the failure of the plant to support her. Not sure if the speckles are from the dust she's creating or my windows need a good clean!
And here they are discussing the failure of their mither to provide for their needs. No doubt she was nearby, watching and waiting for them to get a hang of this 'life of independence'.
This photograph was taken in 1968 on the sands at Ayr beach. Don't you just love the man on the deckchair lighting up his 'fag'. And the rubbish collector. I left Scotland in 1970 and didn't see her again until 1984. Here is a more up-to-date photograph taken on Christmas Day. Happy Birthday dear one.
...When we accept the truth of what we really are and surrender it to Jesus Christ, we are enveloped in peace, whether or not we feel ourselves to be at peace. By that I mean the peace that passes understanding is not a subjective sensation of peace; if we are in Christ, we are in peace even when we feel no peace.
With a graciousness and an understanding of human weakness that only God can exhibit, Jesus liberates us from alientation and self-condemnation and offers each of us a new possibility. He is the Saviour who saves us from ourselves. His Word is freedom. The Master says to us:
Burn the old tapes spinning 'round in your head that bind you up and lock you into a self-centered stereotype. Listen to the new song of salvation written for those who know that they are poor. Let go of your fear of the Father and your dislike of yourself. Remember the play Don Quixote? The Knight of the Mirrors lied to him when he said, "See yourself as you really are. Discover that you are not a noble knight, but an idiotic scarecrow of a man." And the Enchanter lies to you when he says, "Thou art no knight but a foolish pretender. Look in the mirror of reality. Behold things as they really are. What dost thou see? Naught but an ageing fool." The Father of Lies twists the truth and distorts reality. He is the author of cynicism and skepticism, mistrust and despair, sick thinking and self-hatred. I am the Son of compassion. You belong to Me and no one will tear you from My hand.
Jesus discloses God's true feelings toward us. As we turn the pages of the Gospels, we discover that the people Jesus encounters there are you and me. The understanding and compassion He offers them, He also offers you and me. Excerpt from ABBA'S CHILD (Brennan Manning)
Our DNA is divine, and the divine indwelling is never earned by any behavior or any ritual, but only recognized and realized (Romans 11:6, Ephesians 2:8-10) and fallen in love with. When you are ready, you will be both underwhelmed and overwhelmed at the boundless mystery of your own humanity. You will know you are standing under the same waterfall of mercy as everybody else and receiving an undeserved radical grace, which gets to the “root” of your own soul. (Richard Rohr)
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