The Long Walk Home

Can’t really believe this website. Entertaining anyway.

No, this isn’t another post about the dark dismalness of life and the existential angst that usually goes with such murmuring. This is about my inability to say no to simple things. This weekend I drove for 14 hours, crossed London in busy traffic twice and went on a conference, all on my weekend off. The reason for such madness was our band being asked to lead worship at a Interserve (mission agency people) conference called Next Step. The facts that kept this weekend from being completely pointless are as follows.

Getting to spend time with Steph. Beating her at pool. Lots.
The completely over hysterical moment in the car as we drove up to a conference house (ON OUR DAYS OFF) allowing the full realization, of what we had said yes to, hit us.
The man who stopped me in the corridor this morning and asked: “Do you know where the tiny little children are?” (cue lots of images floating around in my head of uber small children scampering the carpet and being trod on under our feet)
Driving on Oxford Street. It is possible to drive through central London. Oh yes.
Listening to over-amounts of brilliant music. (Indigo Girls, The Smiths, Karine Polwart, Eddi Reader, Damien Rice, Rich Mullins, Kate Rusby)
I did get to play my bongos. Lots.

Other things learnt from this weekend: Satellite Navigation is a Good Thing. As stubborn a navigator as I am, there are limits to my ability to balance a map on my knees and drive at the same time. Wendy (Steph’s Sat Nav) was very understanding of my foolishness in driving and very good at putting me back on course. In fact, if you have time, there is a sermon illustration in that. I had to receive from Wendy, I had to put away my pride in my navigation skills and trust hers, there was nothing else I could do except receive from her. (Fill in the blanks as to how this might relate to us and God yourself).

The hymn that floats around my head at such times. Especially the last verse. Pure genius. Pure Grace.

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
to you that for refuge to Jesus have fled?

“Fear not, I am with thee; O be not dismayed!
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
for I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
my grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply;
the flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.

“The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
that soul, though all hell shall endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake.”

One of my biggest fears in the darkness is that it may mean that God has forsaken me forever, that, like Saul, I have been forsaken by the living God. Which places this quote into the context of beautiful relief when I read it yesterday morning. It’s from Dale Ralph Davies commentary on 1 Samuel and the random bit when Saul consults the witch of Endor. Interesting reading for a first jaunt back in the Bible for a while. But utterly appropriate for my head.

“Some believers are convinced that they are cut off from God’s presence, doomed to his silence, forever under his frown. One can understand why believers in Jesus might draw such conclusions: God’s presence does sometimes seem distant; sometimes he seems to have cast them off. Sometimes God leaves us in our affliction for so long that we are tempted to say he has forsaken us. And the Bible acknowledges that such conditions can prevail in the lives of God’s flock. The Bible recognizes that someone can be- shall we say objectively forsaken by God (as was Saul) and that others can seem to be forsaken or fear that they have been.

Have we any clues to help us distinguish the one situation from the other? I would at least point to one. Look for example at Psalm 13:1 ” How much longer, Yahweh will you go on forgetting me? Forever? How much longer will you keep hiding your face from me?”. When believers are terrified at God’s absence they instinctively turn to the God they think has forsaken them, and complain to Him about forsaking them. And then they go on having dealings with this God, crying to this God to answer because they have no-where else to go and so keep clinging to him. Psalm 88 is almost as bleak as 1 Samuel 28 for that Psalm does not have a confident end in Yahweh’s deliverance and favor. The faithful man’s anguish is still unrelieved at the end of his prayer, but he is still speaking to Yahweh about it.

Cool rationalists will never understand it but true believers do. Eventually they see that the clearest evidence that God has not turned away from them is that even in his ‘absence’ they keep turning to the God who has turned from them.” John6:67-68 “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life”
(Dale Ralph Davies – 1 Samuel)

Last Thursday I went to see Karine Polwart with a friend. It was an amazing gig, mainly for the sad sweet melancholy songs that she plays. With lines like: “Maybe there’s a road that’s not this hard.” and “I can’t say there’s many things I wouldn’t change, there are better days gone than those that remain, but I can find joy in the sound of the rain, you have to find joy where you can”, who could resist? It was music that soothed the deep parts of me and left me hopeful. Here’s one of her more cheery songs that sums up some of the rare moments of peace with me and God at the moment.

You put me back together again
just when I thought I was broken forever
So broken that nothing on this earth could mend me
You put me back together again

You put me back together again
Just like a puzzle with no pieces missing
I see myself as you see me my friend
You put me back together again

When everything else in this world
Flickers and falters and falls
And the thunder is under our feet
You feel like four strong walls
(Karine Polwart)