I have never given anything up for Lent. I think that it
is the Baptist in me that -even though I have been part of the Anglican church
now for twenty years - raises its head snootily and looks down its nose at the
declarations of giving up chocolate and puddings, crisps and wine – usually for
the reason of losing a bit of weight. ‘Humph’, I think in self -righteous,
judgmentalism, ‘That’s not what Lent is about!’ (Disclaimer: I recognise most
Baptists would not be as sanctimonious as me! They have not trod the paths of Free Evangelicalism quite as strictly as I did!)
This year, I thought I would take my unattractive
self-righteousness and participate a little more graciously with the lessons a
time of Lent can offer. Because I actually love this time. I realised a number
of years ago that there was something in times of waiting that I found
profoundly helpful. Maybe, it’s because I know at Advent that Christmas will come
and I know at Lent that Easter morning will rise, the waiting feels easier? Maybe,
I am not as good at waiting as I think?
This year I thought I would ‘take something up’ and so have
decided to blog through the story of a woman who really knew what it was to
wait. A woman who didn't have the assurance that her time of waiting would
result in an Easter Sunday but a woman who allowed her lengthy time of waiting,
in all its utter painfulness, to drive her to God rather than away from him.
I am going to do something unusual for me. Even if I don’t
think the words are quite right or that enough time has been spent on getting my
thoughts together, I am just going to put up – each day – the thoughts that I
have. Sometimes there will be a proper blog post, other times maybe just a
couple of sentences or a quote.
Yesterday, as I was at my church preaching on the story of
Hannah for our current series on ‘Prayer’, I was finding it hard to hold back
my tears. As I looked out on the people who I have the privilege to be family
with, I sensed the relevance of her story to their stories and I was also aware
that the words I had to share only scratched the surface of this inspirational woman. I am not a natural preacher. I hear the Holy
Spirit whisper and I stick relentlessly to my script! I always carry the words I don’t say as much
as the words that I do speak out. And those unspoken words are often the ones
that I wished I had given voice. I think this is what many preachers find.
Monday morning is always the time when you see the sermon that you had to
preach with the most clarity! As I was preparing to talk about Hannah, her life
spoke to me very deeply. I often find that with the stories of the women in the
Bible. They resonate more. Not just because I am a woman but maybe because they
just seem a little more relevant, more real. They deal with the things of life.
The messy stuff. The things that hurt. They are distinctly human, firmly in
the everyday.
In his introduction to the books of Samuel, Eugene Peterson,
says in The Message Bible of Hannah (and the other three main characters that the
books of Samuel focuses on): ‘…we need to be reminded that these stories
are not exemplary in the sense that we stand back and admire, like statues in a
gallery, knowing all the while that we will never be able to live either that
gloriously or tragically ourselves. Rather they are immersions into the actual
business of living itself: this is what it means to be human.’
This Lent I want to consider what it is to be human and in
considering this, by looking at the life of Hannah, recognise that she
constantly tells us that God is with us every step of the way. I want Hannah to
lead me to the foot of a cross and an empty tomb. I want the prayer of her life
to remind me again of a Saviour who sees, who loves; who knows; who saves. I
think she can. So, if you would like to join me. I would love the company.
Looking forward to your thoughts Jenny, may God bless you as you bless others, Morag x
ReplyDeleteThank you Morag! x
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