The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
The world is made up of billions of individuals - each one important, each one carrying their unique story. Our collective stories, including those past, makeup the world we know. And like great books, our stories are so varied and different from one another… But they all carry similar themes; the search for love and belonging, tragedy and heartache, joys and hope, challenges and faith… and more. It’s easy to become enraptured with our own story and be blinded to those around us. We aspire, we dream, we accumulate stuff, amass wealth and experiences, and we complain when we don’t get what we want, we judge when someone hurts or annoys us, we sink into morbid despair when hardship comes, then we blame and point fingers… all this because our ears are filled with our own narrative, drowning out the voices and plight of others. Our stories were never meant for solo flight - they will never reach their full potential or impact unless they’re shared and exchanged with someone else… vulnerable and authentic. Warts, beauty and all. Let someone read it, add to it, pour over it, mark it, enjoy it… cry and laugh, sharing stories, exchanging moments… hearts. Our stories becoming communal, part of each other. God 'wants in' on our stories too. This passage in Isaiah tells us that we are not alone. No matter what we go through, no matter what part of the story we're up too; the scary and sad parts, the chilling and horrific parts, God never stops reading. He’s not on the sidelines judging, and he’s not in the end waiting for us to finish. He is with us everywhere we go. Around, in and through. His is the hand of a ready writer, wanting to help us with the plot, themes, and narrative. Our voices join, and the story becomes ours. Shared, divine and holy. You can’t tell where one story starts and the other one ends. No matter where the story of your life is up to, God is with you - even through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fiery oppressions… He will not leave you. He’s been there before, and he will go there with you again.
The world is made up of billions of individuals - each one important, each one carrying their unique story. Our collective stories, including those past, makeup the world we know. And like great books, our stories are so varied and different from one another… But they all carry similar themes; the search for love and belonging, tragedy and heartache, joys and hope, challenges and faith… and more. It’s easy to become enraptured with our own story and be blinded to those around us. We aspire, we dream, we accumulate stuff, amass wealth and experiences, and we complain when we don’t get what we want, we judge when someone hurts or annoys us, we sink into morbid despair when hardship comes, then we blame and point fingers… all this because our ears are filled with our own narrative, drowning out the voices and plight of others. Our stories were never meant for solo flight - they will never reach their full potential or impact unless they’re shared and exchanged with someone else… vulnerable and authentic. Warts, beauty and all. Let someone read it, add to it, pour over it, mark it, enjoy it… cry and laugh, sharing stories, exchanging moments… hearts. Our stories becoming communal, part of each other. God 'wants in' on our stories too. This passage in Isaiah tells us that we are not alone. No matter what we go through, no matter what part of the story we're up too; the scary and sad parts, the chilling and horrific parts, God never stops reading. He’s not on the sidelines judging, and he’s not in the end waiting for us to finish. He is with us everywhere we go. Around, in and through. His is the hand of a ready writer, wanting to help us with the plot, themes, and narrative. Our voices join, and the story becomes ours. Shared, divine and holy. You can’t tell where one story starts and the other one ends. No matter where the story of your life is up to, God is with you - even through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fiery oppressions… He will not leave you. He’s been there before, and he will go there with you again.
Honey has been used medicinally for thousands of years dating as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece. It’s had a resurgence in the last few decades amongst medical professionals. Medical-grade honey is being used more and more to treat a variety of ailments, such as skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis. It can improve digestion and is an effective treatment for stomach ulcers and gastroenteritis. It’s used to relieve sore throats and respiratory infections, and it gives our immune systems a powerful boost due to its antioxidant and antibacterial properties. A study has shown that people that eat raw, unprocessed honey regularly have higher levels of antioxidants in their body. Amazing!! But one of the most powerful ways we see raw, unprocessed honey work is in the treatment of wounds and skin ulcers. Studies show that wounds treated with honey heal quicker, smell less and have reduced scarring. Honey often works where traditional medicine fails. Nursing homes and hospitals are starting to use medical-grade honey to treat ulcers that won’t respond to other treatments, and the results have been astounding. Wounds that typically would not heal, and would require amputation of limbs, are healing with the help of honey. Peter Molan, Ph.D., tells the story of a woman with a 20-year-old wound in her armpit that was infected with antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and had an abscess that oozed long after it had been drained. Nothing seemed to help, and the pain was intense. She read about the wound-healing properties of honey and convinced her doctors to apply some to the dressing to her arm. One month later the wound healed. Something so simple and natural has been proven to have the power to heal untreatable wounds; to break down bacteria that could not be beaten and bring healing and comfort to a person's body. Kindness is just like honey. Real, raw, unprocessed, un-glamorised, pure kindness has the ability to heal and bring relief to wounded hearts, scarred and torn over years of pain and heartache. Open oozing wounds, burns, sorrows that have been inflicted and shamed can be turned around with kindness. If you come across a wounded heart - maybe they're oozing anger or seeping sorrow - administer kindness. It may be the very thing that brings that precious heart closer to health and wholeness.
Honey has been used medicinally for thousands of years dating as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece. It’s had a resurgence in the last few decades amongst medical professionals. Medical-grade honey is being used more and more to treat a variety of ailments, such as skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis. It can improve digestion and is an effective treatment for stomach ulcers and gastroenteritis. It’s used to relieve sore throats and respiratory infections, and it gives our immune systems a powerful boost due to its antioxidant and antibacterial properties. A study has shown that people that eat raw, unprocessed honey regularly have higher levels of antioxidants in their body. Amazing!! But one of the most powerful ways we see raw, unprocessed honey work is in the treatment of wounds and skin ulcers. Studies show that wounds treated with honey heal quicker, smell less and have reduced scarring. Honey often works where traditional medicine fails. Nursing homes and hospitals are starting to use medical-grade honey to treat ulcers that won’t respond to other treatments, and the results have been astounding. Wounds that typically would not heal, and would require amputation of limbs, are healing with the help of honey. Peter Molan, Ph.D., tells the story of a woman with a 20-year-old wound in her armpit that was infected with antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and had an abscess that oozed long after it had been drained. Nothing seemed to help, and the pain was intense. She read about the wound-healing properties of honey and convinced her doctors to apply some to the dressing to her arm. One month later the wound healed. Something so simple and natural has been proven to have the power to heal untreatable wounds; to break down bacteria that could not be beaten and bring healing and comfort to a person's body. Kindness is just like honey. Real, raw, unprocessed, un-glamorised, pure kindness has the ability to heal and bring relief to wounded hearts, scarred and torn over years of pain and heartache. Open oozing wounds, burns, sorrows that have been inflicted and shamed can be turned around with kindness. If you come across a wounded heart - maybe they're oozing anger or seeping sorrow - administer kindness. It may be the very thing that brings that precious heart closer to health and wholeness.
Light spilled onto the bed from the early morning sun. The woman thought she heard voices… “It’s just a beggar…” the man whispered, pulling her face back to his. But the voices grew louder and angrier… Her heart that was racing with passion was now breaking through her chest with fear. Was it her husband? Had he found her? The door flew open, anger entered, her lover dove seeking his own protection, leaving her naked and vulnerable. She grabbed her garment just as arms closed around her and dragged her from the bed. “What do you want? Who are you?” The woman struggled to break free, her cries hung in the air, ignored and neglected. As the tangled group broke out into the streets, her dignity was dashed upon the pavement that rushed beneath her feet that clawed for resistance, a foothold. A way to stop this madness. She shouldn’t have listened to his pretty speech, responded to his tender touch, ventured through the morning twilight, knocked on his door… She knew death awaited. They saw everything… and she couldn’t deny it. Those carrying her stopped suddenly and threw her before a man. He was familiar, but this was not where she thought they were taking her. They were not in court. The angry mob, some she recognised, had brought her before the rebel Rabbi Jesus, the dangerous teacher, the one people couldn’t help but talk about. How could he help her? What did they hope he would do? At his feet, she looked down to the ground, dust filled her nose, and an awareness rose up from the darkness within her. Where was her lover and partner in crime? Or her husband? She began to see what was taking place. This was a setup. She was a pawn in the schemes of men to be used up and thrown away. They were making a point, and she was the collateral damage. Accusations, descriptions of her crime began to fill the air around her, taunting and threatening her life. Her sins on show. Her soul for all to see. The man who had grabbed her so tightly that blackness was already peeking through her skin yelled to Jesus: “The law demands it. What do you say?” His question went unanswered. Slowly and silently, Jesus knelt to the ground only inches from the woman and began to write with his finger in the naked, raw dirt. Through her fear, the woman suddenly thought of the stories she had heard as little girl from times past, where another revolutionary, Moses, had walked down Mt Zion carrying earthen stones carved upon by the hands of God. Perhaps these hands. Could these be new commands he authored in the ground? After what seemed like an age, Jesus rose and said “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” Silence. Not even the birds or the wind uttered voice. Jesus returned to the dust right next to the quivering woman and continued his earthen text. One by one, every accuser, every man, every member of that angry crowd, turned and walked away. Only Jesus and the tear-stained, barely dressed, battered woman remained. Smiling softly, Jesus lifted the woman’s face gently by her chin and asked, “Does no one condemn you?” Bewildered and mystified, she gazed into eyes of hope, the face of grace. A portrait like none she had ever seen. “No.” She stammered. More tears fell, but this time they were tears of hopeful relief. “Neither do I condemn you.” John 8:11-12 The Passion Translation, "Then I certainly don’t condemn you either. Go, and from now on, be free from a life of sin.” Then Jesus said, “I am light to the world and those who embrace me will experience life-giving light, and they will never walk in darkness."
Light spilled onto the bed from the early morning sun. The woman thought she heard voices… “It’s just a beggar…” the man whispered, pulling her face back to his. But the voices grew louder and angrier… Her heart that was racing with passion was now breaking through her chest with fear. Was it her husband? Had he found her? The door flew open, anger entered, her lover dove seeking his own protection, leaving her naked and vulnerable. She grabbed her garment just as arms closed around her and dragged her from the bed. “What do you want? Who are you?” The woman struggled to break free, her cries hung in the air, ignored and neglected. As the tangled group broke out into the streets, her dignity was dashed upon the pavement that rushed beneath her feet that clawed for resistance, a foothold. A way to stop this madness. She shouldn’t have listened to his pretty speech, responded to his tender touch, ventured through the morning twilight, knocked on his door… She knew death awaited. They saw everything… and she couldn’t deny it. Those carrying her stopped suddenly and threw her before a man. He was familiar, but this was not where she thought they were taking her. They were not in court. The angry mob, some she recognised, had brought her before the rebel Rabbi Jesus, the dangerous teacher, the one people couldn’t help but talk about. How could he help her? What did they hope he would do? At his feet, she looked down to the ground, dust filled her nose, and an awareness rose up from the darkness within her. Where was her lover and partner in crime? Or her husband? She began to see what was taking place. This was a setup. She was a pawn in the schemes of men to be used up and thrown away. They were making a point, and she was the collateral damage. Accusations, descriptions of her crime began to fill the air around her, taunting and threatening her life. Her sins on show. Her soul for all to see. The man who had grabbed her so tightly that blackness was already peeking through her skin yelled to Jesus: “The law demands it. What do you say?” His question went unanswered. Slowly and silently, Jesus knelt to the ground only inches from the woman and began to write with his finger in the naked, raw dirt. Through her fear, the woman suddenly thought of the stories she had heard as little girl from times past, where another revolutionary, Moses, had walked down Mt Zion carrying earthen stones carved upon by the hands of God. Perhaps these hands. Could these be new commands he authored in the ground? After what seemed like an age, Jesus rose and said “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” Silence. Not even the birds or the wind uttered voice. Jesus returned to the dust right next to the quivering woman and continued his earthen text. One by one, every accuser, every man, every member of that angry crowd, turned and walked away. Only Jesus and the tear-stained, barely dressed, battered woman remained. Smiling softly, Jesus lifted the woman’s face gently by her chin and asked, “Does no one condemn you?” Bewildered and mystified, she gazed into eyes of hope, the face of grace. A portrait like none she had ever seen. “No.” She stammered. More tears fell, but this time they were tears of hopeful relief. “Neither do I condemn you.” John 8:11-12 The Passion Translation, "Then I certainly don’t condemn you either. Go, and from now on, be free from a life of sin.” Then Jesus said, “I am light to the world and those who embrace me will experience life-giving light, and they will never walk in darkness."
HOW TO SEE IN THE DARK - Part 1 Gratitude is not an exclusive emotion. You can practice gratitude while experiencing a whole range of other thoughts and feelings, too. Being thankful is not the silver bullet to fixing all the other things you're going through. And we are going through some things right now, as a collective, and perhaps you are too individually. No matter how this pandemic has impacted you, I think it's fair to say that it has at least made us all think and evaluate and take stock. I promise you; this is not a series about how you have to suck it up, be grateful, and use this time (self-isolating/quarantine) wisely. There's been plenty of memes and articles and podcasts suggesting that you should spend this season being creative and productive. There's a narrative going around saying that as the world goes to poop, you must rise like an angel, maybe as the scriptures say, like an eagle, and soar above the carnage below. But what if you're stuck in the mess? What if you're tangled in it? What if COVID-19 or whatever it is you're going through - has knocked your legs out from underneath you? What if you simply can't fly? What if you're too tired and too sad and too sore? What if it's too dark and you can't see the way forward? Gratitude is not an exclusive emotion. Practising thankfulness doesn't nullify the hard things. In this space of hardship and uncertainty and pain, you can be grateful and afraid, grateful and sad, grateful and tired. You can be thankful and sleep all day if you like. There's this scared Jewish practice: every morning before anything is done, or any words are said, or sheets and quilts are pushed back, and heads are raised off pillows, our Jewish brothers and sisters say a prayer: "I am thankful before You, living and enduring King, for you have mercifully restored my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness." Its called the Modeh Ani, and the concept behind is that every night when you fall to sleep, your soul experiences a death of sorts and ascends to heaven to rest in the presence of God. In the morning, your soul is returned to your body when you wake up, the gift of life re-granted and renewed. It's a gratitude practice, pulling you back to this moment, what you have, where you are, and the gift that lies within it all… yep, even in the bad stuff. Gratitude has the power to change our hearts, physiology, and psychology. The physical and spiritual are linked, they share the same world and reality; they flow into each other. It changes things. Actually, it changes you. And you have the power to change things. At times like these, it's easy to get consumed and overwhelmed by all things that are happening all at once. Things like homeschooling, an insane amount of sanitising and hand washing, the flood of media and press conferences, tragic reports and grandstanding Facebook posts; so many opinions and studies and facts and leaders that all say different things; for many of us, our work looks different, our home life has changed, our peace has been compromised. Bring it back to gratitude. Breathe. Dig deep. Find something you can be thankful for. Because things that you can be grateful for? They're like an anchor; they ground you. When things go dark, gratitude lights the way. That's what Paul meant when he wrote to his friends and said: "And in the midst of everything be always giving thanks..."* He wasn't supporting an impossible standard of toxic positivity; he was throwing them a lifeline, teaching them how to cultivate a deep and grounding joy that would bring them back to the present moment and all that there still is despite what had threatened to take them out in fear. This series is about finding that place inside you, perhaps every morning, before you say anything else, or fold back the covers that you keep you warm in bed, where you can say with all sincerity, I am thankful before you, before this life, before this life that is mine. Mindful prompt: What things or situations have darkened your life? Sit with them for a moment. After a few minutes, start recalling other things and situations you are genuinely grateful for. Sense the dark lift.
HOW TO SEE IN THE DARK - Part 1 Gratitude is not an exclusive emotion. You can practice gratitude while experiencing a whole range of other thoughts and feelings, too. Being thankful is not the silver bullet to fixing all the other things you're going through. And we are going through some things right now, as a collective, and perhaps you are too individually. No matter how this pandemic has impacted you, I think it's fair to say that it has at least made us all think and evaluate and take stock. I promise you; this is not a series about how you have to suck it up, be grateful, and use this time (self-isolating/quarantine) wisely. There's been plenty of memes and articles and podcasts suggesting that you should spend this season being creative and productive. There's a narrative going around saying that as the world goes to poop, you must rise like an angel, maybe as the scriptures say, like an eagle, and soar above the carnage below. But what if you're stuck in the mess? What if you're tangled in it? What if COVID-19 or whatever it is you're going through - has knocked your legs out from underneath you? What if you simply can't fly? What if you're too tired and too sad and too sore? What if it's too dark and you can't see the way forward? Gratitude is not an exclusive emotion. Practising thankfulness doesn't nullify the hard things. In this space of hardship and uncertainty and pain, you can be grateful and afraid, grateful and sad, grateful and tired. You can be thankful and sleep all day if you like. There's this scared Jewish practice: every morning before anything is done, or any words are said, or sheets and quilts are pushed back, and heads are raised off pillows, our Jewish brothers and sisters say a prayer: "I am thankful before You, living and enduring King, for you have mercifully restored my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness." Its called the Modeh Ani, and the concept behind is that every night when you fall to sleep, your soul experiences a death of sorts and ascends to heaven to rest in the presence of God. In the morning, your soul is returned to your body when you wake up, the gift of life re-granted and renewed. It's a gratitude practice, pulling you back to this moment, what you have, where you are, and the gift that lies within it all… yep, even in the bad stuff. Gratitude has the power to change our hearts, physiology, and psychology. The physical and spiritual are linked, they share the same world and reality; they flow into each other. It changes things. Actually, it changes you. And you have the power to change things. At times like these, it's easy to get consumed and overwhelmed by all things that are happening all at once. Things like homeschooling, an insane amount of sanitising and hand washing, the flood of media and press conferences, tragic reports and grandstanding Facebook posts; so many opinions and studies and facts and leaders that all say different things; for many of us, our work looks different, our home life has changed, our peace has been compromised. Bring it back to gratitude. Breathe. Dig deep. Find something you can be thankful for. Because things that you can be grateful for? They're like an anchor; they ground you. When things go dark, gratitude lights the way. That's what Paul meant when he wrote to his friends and said: "And in the midst of everything be always giving thanks..."* He wasn't supporting an impossible standard of toxic positivity; he was throwing them a lifeline, teaching them how to cultivate a deep and grounding joy that would bring them back to the present moment and all that there still is despite what had threatened to take them out in fear. This series is about finding that place inside you, perhaps every morning, before you say anything else, or fold back the covers that you keep you warm in bed, where you can say with all sincerity, I am thankful before you, before this life, before this life that is mine. Mindful prompt: What things or situations have darkened your life? Sit with them for a moment. After a few minutes, start recalling other things and situations you are genuinely grateful for. Sense the dark lift.