Welcome to my General Store!

Welcome to my General Store!

After my Malawian friends had left, I turned my attention once again to my project of sharing true stories of startling coincidences, this time in a blog.  The delightful one of “joined-up whiting” must be included, I thought, but if I showed a picture of the card would that be a breach of copyright?  I wrote to the artist, Simon Drew, asking for his permission.  To my great pleasure, he sent me another of his witty cards, this time The Joy of Gardening, in which – in ‘joined-up writing!’ – he gave me his approval and wished me luck with my stories.

Chuckling at the quirky gardener and the six witty rhyming elements of gardening, I looked round my living-room for a place to display it.  My gaze suddenly fell on the flower-pot and dish which Lizzie and Suzgo had brought me from Malawi.  Knowing nothing about me except my name, they had asked a local craftsman to carve my first name on the pot and my surname on the dish.  I was, of course, delighted with this thoughtful present but, as all my houseplants were too big to fit into it, I popped in a cheerful little artificial flower.

Now, as I viewed the card and the flower-pot together, I laughed out loud when I noticed the similarity between the two flower-pots!  I especially liked the way in which the seeds sown in picture one had bloomed by picture six, as this reflects my hope that the invisible seeds which I want to sow in this blog may flourish, bringing moments of cheer - and even food for thought...

 But I’m a bit “slow on the uptake”.  It took another three months before it suddenly dawned on me that on my kitchen window-sill I had another of Simon Drew’s witty creations on a gardening theme!  It is a mug specially designed for gardeners, as it has a useful lid to keep insects out.  For years, this is the mug which I have produced when my gardener Russell, whom I nickname “my guardian angel” has come in for a coffee and a cheery chat.

(As well as making me laugh with his witty, often risqué jokes, he often comes out with “Just you keep on being a Christian, Kath.  Whatever floats your boat!  But for me that’s all just a fairy story.  What lights my candle is Rangers F.C!”)

Opposite the window-sill is a tall kitchen cupboard.  On the inside of the door is a small poster which I created many years ago when I still lived in Alloway.  Admirers of Robert Burns will recognise the Burns Monument in the background – but may have more difficulty with the words! 

Try as I may, I can’t remember why I copied the Biblical quotation in French!  Perhaps I was in France at the time…  The words are from Matthew’s gospel, chapter 13, verse 52.  In my New English Bible,

He (Jesus) said to them “When, therefore, a teacher of the law has become a learner in the kingdom of Heaven, he is like a householder who can produce from his store both the new and the old”.

But I also like Eugene H. Peterson’s version in The Message:

 “Then you see how every student well-trained in God’s kingdom is like the owner of a general store who can put his hands on anything you need, old or new, exactly when you need it.”

I have come to think of my collection of true stories (from my diaries dating back to the 1970s) as being a general store, to which I welcome customers.  It’s now open every Saturday, with a new special offer!  So, I hope you’ll visit me then…

Footnote: Find more of Simon Drew’s witty creations on www.simondrew.co.uk

January Pilgrimage

         

Here's a wee Midweek Extra, as it's still January.  (Next Post on Saturday!)

                                                                                                        

Joined-up Writing

Joined-up Writing

“Ooh, I like your joined-up writing!” exclaimed the dentist’s assistant as I signed the NHS form. “I just print my name on forms, but in any case, I’m normally typing on the computer, not using a pen.”

I smiled at her somewhat sadly, remembering how much trouble my generation’s primary school teachers had taken to show us how to hold a pen and to write neatly between the lines on the page.

This little incident came back into my mind a few weeks later at a family reunion dinner in Seahouses on the north-east coast of England.  We had come from different parts of the UK to celebrate my sister Freda’s 70^th birthday.  In the restaurant I sat beside Brian from Manchester and David from Belfast.  The three of us share a common love of writing.
“Do you compose your articles straight on to the computer?”  Brian asked me.

“No,” I replied.  “I do it in my joined-up writing!  I use my one of my favourite brightly coloured pencils with its own eraser on the top.  That lets me edit my draft much more easily and quickly.  I’m too slow on the computer, so I just use that for the final copy.”

David laughed incredulously at the thought of using pencils in this day and age.  However, I defended my old-fashioned method, adding that I treasured hand-written letters from friends – so much more personal and intimate than typed emails.

Early the next morning, as I packed my suitcase, I thought again about the pleasure of writing.   Relaxed after the week’s holiday, I was now looking forward to continuing my latest project at home: a series of true stories which I wanted to entitle The Golden Network.  As in my first book Joyful Witness, the subject matter was of astonishing coincidences which I have experienced, often in answer to prayer when I have been in difficult circumstances. I wanted to share my belief that the Holy Spirit, in order to comfort us and strengthen our faith in God, uses a spiritual network, an interconnected system of people and things.  To illustrate my text, I had begun a special computer file of pictures to be used as ‘experiential evidence’.

At breakfast I gathered up some little souvenirs of Seahouses which I had left on the kitchen table.  One was a postcard which I had bought after the Sunday service in the local church.  It showed one of the beautiful stained-glass windows: the sun rising over the sea, a lighthouse and, in the foreground, a fishing boat with a fishing net containing some fish. The prominence of the fishing net was a reminder of the fishing industry which had flourished in Seahouses until the mid-20^th century.

But it had, of course, another, deeper significance.  Gazing at the net, I thought, “Network.  That can be divided into two words: Net Work.”  I realised that the first and last times Jesus had spoken to his disciples they had been working with their fishing nets.  On the first occasion he had said to Peter and Andrew, “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of people.” (Matthew 4:19, NIV).  Then, after his crucifixion he appeared to them by the sea of Tiberius, calling to them where to cast their nets.  When, to their surprise, they made a large catch, they realised that their helper was the resurrected Jesus. 

“I’d like to include this lovely picture in The Golden Network”, I thought as I packed the postcard into my rucksack.

On my return home a few hours later, I discovered a large pile of mail.  One envelope was addressed in a neat handwriting which I did not recognise.  On opening it I discovered a thank you card from my daughter-in-law’s aunt.  I had given her bed and breakfast the previous week when she was travelling to Glasgow from the north of England.

I gasped in amazement when I saw the front of the card…!

Help is at Hand (Sequel 2)

Help is at Hand (sequel)

(NB  This is a sequel to the updated version of my first post.)

“Ah, Mama, God sent you to that side of the river!” exclaimed Lizzie, my visitor from Malawi. 

“Yes, God sent you there so that you could rescue that man,” agreed her friend Suzgo.

Startled by their straightforward, unquestioning faith, I smiled at them gratefully.

“Yes, I do believe that He did,” I replied.  “But, you know, I don’t think that here in Scotland I could find the courage to say that out loud.  People here are so reserved.  They consider faith to be a strictly private matter.  Also, anyone suspected of any kind of boasting is frowned upon.  I can imagine many people’s reaction:

‘Who does she think she is?  Does she think she’s special?  Well, she’s not.  She just happened to be at the right place at the right time.  Pure chance!’”

Now it was my African friends’ turn to stare at me in wonder.  In Malawi, Scotland is revered as being the birthplace of David Livingstone, the great explorer missionary who brought Christian faith and values to their country.  Why would Scottish people not immediately believe that God’s Holy Spirit had inspired me that day to go to the river instead of the sea, and then to cross over to the deserted shady side?

Lizzie and Suzgo had come to Scotland on a two-week visit as part of the Church of Scotland – Malawi partnership.  They were going to tour round the various churches in Ayr Presbytery, and would discuss the projects which local church members had supported in order to improve living conditions in their impoverished country.  Their two-night stay with me had been arranged by Linda, the enthusiastic leader of my church’s Malawi team.         

A skilled hairdresser and experienced businesswoman, Linda became a Christian in her early thirties.  She had visited our partner church in Chintheche and had seen at first hand the desperate poverty and need for practical help.  Over the past few years she and her team had raised money to build a nursery and a grain mill, and had sent boxes of clothes, school stationery, solar lights, mosquito nets etc. 

Yes, our church is one of many whose members still recall and obey Jesus’s second commandment: Love your neighbour as yourself.

But, as my secular friends would swiftly point out:  there are many kindly decent people who have compassion on the poor, the hungry, the homeless, the lonely, and who do their best to alleviate their misery.  What difference would it make to be a Christian?

I would reply that then they would know that Jesus’s first commandment was:      Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and with all your mind.  (Luke 10, verse 27)

“But I don’t believe in God!  That’s just old-fashioned superstition,” is the common reply. “For God’s sake(!) get real!  Think of all the amazing advances we’ve made in technology in recent years.  We don’t need religion. This is the 21^st century, after all.  Anyway, how can there possibly be a loving God, as you claim, when there is so much misery in the world?”

Well, Lizzie and Suzgo are no strangers to sorrow.  Lizzie keeps a photo tucked in her Bible: that of her 3-year-old grandson who died when he fell into a septic tank. And Suzgo showed me a photo of her elder daughter who, as a baby, was permanently damaged by meningitis. Suzgo is trying to teach her to sew, in the hope that she might be able to earn a living.

Lizzie is the chairperson of 27 Women’s Guilds, who take it upon themselves to care for widows and orphans.  Despite the fact that many have no access to running water, the members wash and iron their Guild uniforms which they wear with pride to weekly meetings.  Every Friday they meet for Bible study.

Suzgo is a nurse. She told me that when she returned to Malawi it would be the malaria season. 
“For the patients who come to my hospital, we can do nothing except try to make them more comfortable,” she said sadly. “We haven’t got the medication they need.”

Both women are devout Christians.  They had brought their Bibles, and got together each day to pray quietly in private.  To my surprise, they speak different languages although they live only about 40 km from one another.  (Malawi has 16 living languages.)  One spoke Chichewa, the national language, the other Chitumbuka.  Sitting round my table we recited the Lord’s Prayer in our three different languages.  It was very moving – and thought-provoking, as each of us was sure that God hears and understands what we mean in our hearts, whatever words we use. 

Lizzie showed me her Bible and I fetched mine – the New English Bible which Bob, my late husband, gave me over thirty years ago. 

To our delight, we discovered a happy coincidence – both Bibles had the same illustrations!  We eagerly turned the pages to find two we could display in a photo.  Finally we decided on one of a hen with her chickens.  The artist, Horace Knowles, had created this illustration for the words of Jesus (in Matthew 23, verse 37)                

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that murders the prophets and stones the messengers sent to her!  How often have I longed to gather your children, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings; but you would not let me.    

What a privilege it was to meet those two committed Christians!  The lovely coincidence of the identical illustrations formed a bond between us even though we live thousands of miles apart and shall possibly never meet again.  All three of us admire that Scottish missionary who wrote: ‘All that I am I owe to Jesus Christ, revealed to me in His divine Book’.

As for me, I pray that here in Scotland our younger generation, so beset by secularism, cynicism, cyber bullying, commercialism, racism, homophobia, mental health problems and even thoughts of suicide, may, despite all of these, come to know that ‘Help is at Hand’, and to trust in Jesus’s promise that after His death God would send the Holy Spirit to be our Advocate, Guide and Comforter.

He did.

                                                       Thanks be to God