5 July 2015:
Something prompted me today to start creating my own blog. “Why?” you may ask–“why today”? A normal July day–nothing particularly noteworthy to report? No birth, no death, no milestone event? Why would I, a normal little person who is, at heart, quite wary of all those modern forms of communication which have suddenly invaded our daily reality, suddenly go public on what is going on in my heart, in my life, in my walk with Jesus?
Perhaps I was prompted to do so by God Himself to go public on what goes on in my mind, share the content of those letters which, to date, only friends and family have received. I was walking home from a normal Sunday service –not even necessarily a spectacular one; just one of those services where, in His own quiet way, Jesus touched my soul in a deep place and reminded me that what I am living through, my joys, my pain–matter to Him; that my story matters to Him; that perhaps sharing my very quest to become a tree that bears fruit, to sow a seed that makes a difference to something or someone in our broken world could mean something to someone out there; that perhaps it is not about what I may or may not ultimately achieve by living on this planet that matters but my very journey itself………and that, consequently, that journey will need to be documented.
Raindrops on roses are indeed one of my many favourite things….one of God’s abundant blessings which I cherish especially when the going gets tough. And right now—I have to be honest—the dog is indeed biting and the bee stinging. I won’t go into the details–suffice it to say that things have just not quite worked out the way I thought they might. Whatever the reason–it hurts right now. But equally, I know that “in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him” (Romans 8:28) and that wherever I go, God will be with me (Joshua 1:9).
Raindrops on roses are also a true miracle—a tiny thing which can make a huge difference to an individual, a community, a nation. Have you ever lain in a field wet with morning dew, or felt those refreshing first drops of rain after a hot and sticky summer’s day; stood outside as rain has poured down on dry dusty roads, breathing in that sense of wet earth, cherishing the sight of the deep green of the fields, the redness of the earth or the colours of flowers and trees suddenly enhanced as they are kissed by that life-giving water from above? I remember years ago uniting in prayer with hundreds of South Africans on Louis Trichardt’s football pitch, praying, pleading for rain. The drought was desperate, as was the plea for life- giving water. It was a powerful moment–one of those life changing experiences.
Raindrops on roses matter and I want to both rejoice in and be like a raindrop on roses: I want my life to be meaningful, to make a difference to something, someone out there. Even if it is just a drop in the ocean–after all, I am only one human being. I want to be a tender new branch that remains in the vine, watered sufficiently to bear fruit. Sometimes the journey has not been or will not be easy; some parts of it I have not been or perhaps will not be proud of. But share I will—because perhaps, it really is the journey that matters.
Thank you for walking with me.