Fogbound: Waiting in Uncertainty

Today I’ve sent my two sons a small surprise gift each to help them get through Lockdown 2. My 25 year old’s immediate response is to try and guess what it is.

He never was great at waiting. I remember the little boy stamping his feet and crying:

“But I can’t wait anymore, Mummy! I just can’t!”

In desperation, I growled back:

“Don’t wait then. Just sit there.”

Which, to my surprise, worked.

In happier mood

There’s so much waiting going on this week: US Elections, the hope for a return to some kind of normality. And so much ahead is obscure: will there be a clear result? Will the R rate decrease to a safer level?

It feels rather like my journey to work yesterday through autumnal fog – I know where I want to get to but I don’t know how long it will take and my view of the road before me is limited.

So what is the answer to all this hard waiting? Should we ‘just sit there’ and mark time?

Well, there’s a lot to be said for making the most of a pause to our usual routine, taking the time to notice and be grateful for the small details – the crunch of autumn leaves, Strictly, the smell of coffee, electronic communication – whatever it is for you. Or using this period to consider what really matters to us rather than following our daily patterns out of sheer habit, a chance to reset and reprioritise.

I believe that patience can best be grown out of trust but I am challenged by the hymn writers’ words:

‘I do not ask to see

The distant scene, one step enough for me’

(John Newman, Lead Kindly Light)

and

‘I know who holds the future and He’ll guide me with his hand’

(Alfred B Smith, I Do Not Know What Lies Ahead)

So my increasingly frequent prayer is: ‘In Your hands, Lord. We are in Your hands.’ And I picture a tiny baby safely cradled in strong fatherly palms or I imagine leaning into God’s shoulder, His arm around me like my dad did or my husband and sons do, my safe-and-at-home place.

And instead of focussing on the insecurities of today or the uncertainties of tomorrow, at least for a few minutes, I focus on the warmth and comfort of His presence and strength as we move forward together.

Writing this in conjunction with https://fiveminutefriday.com/2020/11/05/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-ahead/

Prayers for (Y)our World

Last week I wrote about how rewording a list of concerns helped me write the prayers of intercession for my church’s online service today. So this week, now the service has aired (https://www.facebook.com/Fleet-Methodist-Services-101521864819531), I thought I would share the actual prayers with you.

Maybe you’d like to join in praying them too:

Lord, we bring to you:

The world,

Those in need,

Those who are suffering,

Our local Community, 

Our families and friends.

So many big things where Your wisdom, justice, and guidance are needed:

• The continued threat to the environment
• The American Presidential election
• The Brexit negotiations between the UK and the EU
• The discrimination and systemic inequalities between rich and poor, white and BAME, straight and queer, able bodied and differently abled
• The ongoing impact of the global pandemic

There are so many individual situations where Your peace, hope and comfort are needed:

• Students coping with being away from home but under such restrictions to their studies and university life
• The bereaved trying to come to terms with their loss without the usual means of support
• Those waiting for hospital treatments that have been delayed due to lockdown
• Those whose jobs and income are under threat

And we see the need for Your love in so many of the situations here in Fleet:

• In the debate over pedestrianizing part of the high street
• In the plans for reopening church and restarting Brigades’ meetings
• For members of our church family in hospital, in care homes, or who are housebound
• For those adapting to new situations – new babies, marriage, moving house
• For all who are feeling isolated or overwhelmed
• In the fears and anxieties of so many of us in such uncertain times

But in all this, Lord, we are reminded that this is:

Your world

Your (people in) need

Your (people who are) suffering

Your Community 

Your family and friends.

We are reminded that You have loved this world longer than anyone.

And that You know what it is to go through

suffering and uncertainty,

deprivation and isolation,

turmoil and loss.

And that You love us so very much,

longing to bring Your creative wholeness to all of us,

in the personal details of our individual lives

and in the great scheme of our national and global communities.

So as we bring all these concerns to You,

show us which ones You want us to leave in Your hands,

trusting You to work out,

and which You want us to be part of the answer to.

Show us specifically how You want each of us to reflect Your love to the world around,

what gifts, skills, and opportunities You are giving us,

and who You want us to share Your love with.

Let us work in partnership with You,

in trusting expectation of all that You can do

for us and this world

that You and we love.

Amen

Challenge (FIVE MINUTE FRIDAY)

Sometimes life sucks. Hopes, plans, routines – so easily derailed. The direction we thought we were heading in – the path suddenly crashes away into an abyss like in those adventure movies. We stand in shock and then face the fact that we have to divert, turn back, take the long route. And off we wearily tread. It’s the Mines of Moria for us.

Sometimes we, I run out of words. So I turn to others’ instead.

Here’s some that have helped recently:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6fA35Ved-Y Even If by MercyMe
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVHrkYBEgFM God’s Not Done With You by Tauren Wells
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Otg-5p7qug Mended by Matthew West

And I reread and repeat the old truths to make them my own:

‘I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.’ (Romans 8. 38-39)

I don’t like or want these challenges but at least I don’t have to face them alone.

ADAPT (Five Minute Friday)

My dictionary tells me that ‘adapt’ means to ‘make (something) suitable for a new use or purpose; modify’ or to ‘become adjusted to new conditions’.

So, although I spend my work life adapting people’s homes so they can continue to use them despite their disability or helping them adjust to the changes that their conditions bring – loss of mobility, reduced energy, etc. – I’m not sure that I’m always very good at adapting for myself.

Ironic, isn’t it?

But when I think about it, there’s a massive difference between the changes we choose – deciding to move house or change jobs or have a baby – and those that are imposed on us. Certainly, none of my patients have chosen cancer or MND (ALS) or dementia so no wonder they struggle to adapt, especially when theirs is a deteriorating condition so the goalposts are constantly moving. And many of the situations I’ve struggled to adapt to are those that have been beyond my control.

However, I do wonder if I can choose to try and adapt to those imposed changes? Or, better still, to ask God to adapt me.

I remember my mum’s last year of life. She fell, broke her hip and, alongside the physical consequences, had marked cognitive loss as a result. After several months in hospital, she came home but within weeks it became clear that her condition was too severe for my dad, even with a maximum care package and lots of support from the rest of the family, to look after her at home. So she had to move into a nursing home but he chose to stay in their flat without her.

That was a choice none of us wanted to make. It broke our hearts.

My mum varied in her understanding of the situation but, in one of her more lucid periods, we talked about how she could bear being parted from Dad after 55 years of marriage, how this could possibly be right or fair when it was so difficult and painful. And we posited the questions: ‘What if God had some purpose or role for her in this nursing home? What if He had reasons for this that we just couldn’t see at the moment?’

It was a daring thought.

It didn’t dismiss the agony and heartbreak of the choice but it did offer a way forward. And that way forward was to ‘adjust to the new [situation]’ by trusting God to use it in some way and to go with her into it, maybe even to allow Him to ‘make [all of us] suitable for a new use or purpose’ through it.

Looking back, I can see some of the good God brought out of it: how loved both my parents felt thanks to the care of the staff in that home; friendships with other residents and their relatives that remain 4 years later; my growing into the role of the Mum of the whole family; how I can use my experiences to relate better to the difficulties my patients and carers have. And I’m sure that’s not all.

So perhaps that’s the lesson of adapting: that it’s not a matter of forcing ourselves to embrace change but to trust Him who knows the future, with all its possible permutations, so much better than we ever can.

DEPENDence (Five Minute Friday)

Here’s my weekly link up of 5 minutes free writing with this encouraging community. If you’d like to read more, here’s the link: http://fiveminutefriday.com/2017/09/28/five-minute-friday-link-up-depend/. Anyway, this is what this week’s prompt word made me think about, although it’s based on something I wrote for myself last year:

Floating in the cool refreshment of our holiday villa pool, it strikes me how strong water is. It supports my weight as easily as it does the discarded pigeon feather a few feet away. All I have to do is relax back into it and it holds me up completely.

And that’s the secret, of course: to relax and trust the water. If you tense up or thrash about, you’ll sink through it.

It’s like water is the opposite of a Newtonian fluid, which requires force to cause it to ‘solidify’ and bear weight. The water is gently strong as it holds and supports me, moulding to my shape as it softly cocoons my underneath.

I feel, I am, at home in the water: peaceful, unselfconscious, relaxed.

And I am reminded of being ‘held in the everlasting arms’ where I also have the choice to try to hold myself up, fight, and end up sinking. Or I can let myself relax back, trust Him, and find myself easily supported by His fluid grace.