I went out into the cold Norfolk countryside yesterday for a walk with my friends and here are some of the photographs I took. I’m really enjoying all this cold, snowy weather – it’s reminding me of my time in Belarus – I’d forgotten how much I love the feel of icy air on your face, the crunch of the snow under my feet and how still everything is!
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Isn’t it funny how we expect to find traces of ‘supernatural’ or something spiritual in ‘holy places’? That’s why people make pilgrimages, set up memorials or shrines- to capture the presence or feeling of a supernatural encounter.
And I don’t think Christians are immune to this- I was reading Nehemiah 9-11 and wondering what it would be like to to back to the spot where the angel of the LORD appeared to Moses or when Jacob wrestled with God… if I looked around would I find traces of those encounters? Would there be a sense of tingling in the air where Uncreated had broken in to the world…?
But isn’t that a bit silly of me?! Not because the mark of the Creator wouldn’t be left… but because it already has, in everything that God has created by his Word! We should look around at us and marvel that this world bears traces of its Maker at every turn… but we’re too blind to see it…
At heart I don’t easily believe that this really is the Lord’s world. I don’t look out on this beautiful, crisp, cold morning and think of how the warmth-giving sun melts away the frost that encased each blade of grass, transforming it from its brittle, fragile state to one where it can flourish and grow, and see the traces of the work of my Saviour displayed for all to see. How much do we miss out on, chasing after our own ideas of spirituality & the divine and ignoring the majestic display of Jesus that the universe would draw our attention to?
Why am I like this? Why can’t I change and be some other way? Why do people put up with me? What’s the point of even trying, you won’t be any good. I wonder how long people will put up with me before I become a burden they can’t cope with anymore? Why did I end up here? I have nothing to offer these people! What if they knew what I was really like? Help! How long before I can run away? I wonder if they’re talking about me? Why am I so self-obsessed?! Wouldn’t it be better if someone else was doing this? Why don’t you try harder? If I were the other person, I’d think I just didn’t care… What on earth am I doing?! I can’t do this job! Will anyone ever just want to be with me? Why is my heart so cold? Why am I so judgemental? What can I do to make people like me?
Deep down there's a hope inside, brighter than the fears in my mind (Switchfoot - Blinding Light)
These are all questions I’ve asked myself, or thoughts that have run through my head. I share them now because I’m working on being more honest – less of a front, more of what I’m really like. This isn’t an experiement self-expression (I don’t think these things all the time and they’re not the sum total of how I feel at any given point) nor is it a plea for help (though I’m not denying I often need it, and am always thankful when people offer it) but an exercise in openly stating that I am broken, damaged by my own reluctance to trust Jesus, affected by a world that doesn’t love it’s Creator… but still not hopeless! For all the stuff that is wrong, for all the struggles I face or see in the world around me, and every moment I do feel these things keenly – there is hope. Unlike the wisdom of the TV ad, it’s not in searching for self-worth, nor is it found in digging deep into my past – it’s completely outside of me… alien, you might say.
…But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith…
(Philippians 3:7-9 ESV)
I know there’s no hope to be found in me – I can’t deal with any of these problems or situations on my own. But like Paul says, there’s hope outside of me, outside of broken humanity, outside of the damaged world we live in – Jesus is my unshakeable, life-giving, joy-restoring hope. I don’t have to look within, I look to Him. 
I’ve been enjoying this song immensely over the past week, having used it as part of some student training I was doing. I’ve pasted the lyrics below – they’re well worth a read.
What is it about music that makes things sink in, in ways that just hearing or reading something doesn’t? I love how with his music John Mark McMillan reflects the victory and joy of the fact that ‘the man Jesus Christ laid death in his grave’ … let me know what you think!
Though the earth cried out for blood
Satisfied her hunger was
Her billows calmed on raging seas
For the souls of men she craved
Sun and moon from balcony
Turned their head in disbelief
Their precious love would taste the sting
Disfigured and disdained
On Friday a thief
On Sunday a king
Laid down in grief
But awoke with the keys
To hell on that day
Firstborn of the slain
The man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave
So three days in darkness slept
The morning sun of righteousness
But rose to shame the throws of death
And over turn his rule
Now daughters and the sons of men
Would pay not their dues again
The debt of blood they owed was rent
When the day rolled anew
On Friday a thief
On Sunday a king
Laid down in grief
But awoke with the keys
To hell on that day
Firstborn of the slain
The man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave
He has cheated
Hell and seated
Us above the fall
In desperate places
He paid our wages
One time once and for all
They bring me joy, they show others what I’ve been enjoying, they’re unique and sometimes they can manage to capture a moment that you don’t want to forget – who doesn’t love photos?!
Now I’m going to be a bit cheeky and invite you to look at mine – for no other reason than I take photos of things I love, and I want you to share these things too! There’s also a handy link in the menu bar above.
Oh, and I’ve not got many of people – not 
because I don’t love people… I do! But they have this tendency of moving around a lot and I’m not a good enough photographer to capture all that life and excitement and motion! So friends – just coz you’re not in my gallery, doesn’t mean I don’t love you!
I’ve been pondering over this song since hearing it at Mobilise East on Sunday. Originally written by Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) and covered by Cash in the last year of his life, the song seems to span generations – clearly both artists could identify with the themes Reznor wrote about – regret, loss, despair, the apparent futility of life, and the way that, with all the best intentions in the world, we let down those we love and care about. It’s bleak stuff – and yet part of me really respects that. And as I’ve been thinking about how I deal with these realities, I’ve been struck by how shallow I can be. Our culture doesn’t exactly foster genuine openness and honesty, and sadly that’s too often the case amongst Christians as well – I am guilty of putting on a mask and pretending things are OK, when really I’m not, and I’m equally guilty of wanting others to do the same, because I don’t know how to handle it when they’re honest.
But how tragic is that? Out of all the people in the world, followers of Jesus should be ready to face up to the reality that this song points to – we are broken, sinful, weak and helpless people. That should not be a surprise to us! Isn’t that what Jesus shows us? Isn’t it a basic part of being a Christian – to know, see and feel the weight of that hopelessness at some point in our lives, to know that without Jesus, we’re lost, hopeless? In some ways, ‘full of broken thoughts I cannot repair’ doesn’t go far enough…No wonder Reznor’s lyrics leave us with no hope or cosy resolution – without Jesus, what do we have? Empires of dirt that we build for ourselves in the vain hope that they might mean something, or make our existence significant. If that’s the best solution we have, then it would make sense to hide our pain and worry away – what would be the use of sharing it? What would be the use of trawling through it and facing it in all it’s horror and ugliness? Perhaps some temporary relief if we were to find that others share the same despair too, but that is a fleeting comfort – after all, everyone we know goes away in the end.
Before you start to despair, however, let me remind you, and myself, that Jesus does offer us a better way. Knowing the very worst of what we’re like, having faced all our sin and brokenness himself, in his very body, hanging on a tree, Jesus offers us himself. There is no hope in us – we can’t get better on our own. But wonderfully, Jesus stands us in his place – he deals gently with our self-inflicted wounds, binds us up and presents us before the Father wearing his own Son-ly clothes. So when we’re feeling broken, we don’t have to be afraid of facing up to that, and we don’t have to be ashamed of admitting it. A sick person needs a doctor – to pretend otherwise is dangerous and unwise.
I wonder what my conversations would look like if I was more aware of this? How would my friendships grow and develop differently? How would I face challenges and failures differently, and what difference should this make to how I love my church family?
Here’s something to get you thinking… I don’t necessarily agree with everything that’s said, but it’s good to hear some of the challenges to the myth of ‘the power of positive thinking’!
