Earth is crammed with heaven

I used to think of the term 'Sacrifice of praise' as an offering of praise. Sacrifices on the altar were traditionally gifts, or offerings that someone brought to God. It was often the best they had to bring. But I've recently been thinking of it in terms of praise to God being costly. I've never been a "It's all good!" type of person. Or even a, dare I say it, "God is good all the time" kind of person either. I know He is. Of course He is. But to try to express it at times when my world has been falling apart is unhelpful at best, and impossible at worst. Yesterday, however, I had a message from a lovely Christian gentleman. He's very well known in Salvation Army circles, but we'd only recently had direct contact from him, following our losses. He'd written a poem about grace. It was beautiful. But as I read it, it got harder and harder to read and accept. When I mentioned this to him, he wrote this... "If I don't ...

It's 5 o'clock on a Saturday sang Billy Joel. Well it's actually 5 o'clock on a Thursday but that doesn't have the same ring to it. I'm awake because I have laryngitis and can't stop coughing so I thought I'd do something useful like create this blog. Welcome to my world! At the moment I'm banned from speaking. It's day 5 and my voice hasn't improved. It's frustrating to have to write everything down. I choose my words more carefully though as they take so long. Last night I went to Hastings, and was reminded of the poem that gave me my blog title. "Earth is crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God. But only he who sees takes off their shoes..." As I spend more time in enforced silence I hope to see.... Shame my husband and boys haven't got it too!

Calling all Salvation Army Singing Company (choir) members from the 70’s and 80’s! Remember this one? “What blest provision of thy grace, that I should find a secret place? Within thy presence there to dwell and silently my need to tell.” New Songs for YP May’74. I was in Liverpool Walton Singing Company, when I sang this for the first time. At the tender age of 9, it captured my imagination, and even more so now. Tell me any busy Mum who doesn’t occasionally long for a secret place of their own! So imagine my joy over the last few years as it dawned on me that a “devotional time” (pious face optional) with God, wasn’t necessarily going to be a set time or place in my schedule. Instead, the ever-present God refused to be compartmentalised, and I could find him wherever I chose to look. When returning home after a busy day, and finding a whole host of mundane tasks still to do, I realized that I could just take off my shoes, and remind myself that I was on ‘holy ground’ (Exodus 3:...

So this is it. My Dad's funeral is today. I can't sleep. So these are my thoughts: I'm glad we've got some good songs planned.. Our family and friends sing well, And as we sing Feed me now and evermore we'll exchange a smile at Dad belting out the bass notes. I'm looking forward to hearing all the tributes. I've been reminded in recent Weeks that Dad was well Loved and had an impact on many people. I'm dreading the final farewell, but will leave Dad in faith that God has wiped every tear from his eye, And he no longer knows suffering or pain (Rev21) So here we go. May today be a fitting tribute to my earthly Dad And bring glory to my heavenly Father. Oh and may I get through my tribute without blubbing!

Dad died suddenly on a sunny August morning. There had been no warning. He’d been ill for years but we weren’t expecting to lose him. As we left the place where he’d drawn his final breaths, the blue sky and sunshine seemed to mock us. We wanted to scream what had happened to the people passing, going about their business. And the tears started. Sometimes it feels as if they’ll never stop. You see this wasn’t the first death that had occurred in our family. In fact it was the fourth in four months. We had lost key figures in our lives. A dearly loved Grandad, and three parents. These weren’t minor losses they were huge. And as I looked at our family, especially our children, just last week, as we sat in the garden having a barbecue, I thought, “It’s too much sadness for one family.” How much can one family take? How much can I take if it comes to that? We know where our loved ones are now. We believe that Jesus has taken them Home to rest. But the pain of parting f...

This was published in Salvationist 8.9.12 “Twist me and turn me and show me the elf, I looked in the water and there saw……” Anyone who has been a brownie, will probably know the story those words come from. It’s about a little girl and her brother who wanted to find a brownie to help their Mum at home. They went to the Wise Old Owl who told them the brownie could be found in the pool in the woods. The little girl had to turn around on the edge of the pool, say the rhyme above and look to see the brownie in the water. Of course the missing word was ‘myself’, and the girl was encouraged to be the one that fulfilled the role of brownie and helped her mother at home   I remembered that rhyme when I was stood at the edge of a lake last week. We’d escaped for a few hours, to get a change of scenery, and a new perspective. It was a beautiful sunny day, but it was cold, and Chris wasn’t as thrilled at the prospect of sitting under a tree staring into the water as I was. “I loo...

It's two weeks today since our Dad left this world. It's been a tough time for all of us. Everywhere I go I see something that reminds me of him, and the tears come. If I'm honest, even though I was with him as he took his last breaths, I still can't believe he's gone. I've felt numb most of the time, and though I believe God is with me right now, I've longed to feel His presence in a greater way. Yesterday in the car I listened to a very old cd of The Salvation Army International Staff Songsters. I needed inspiration for Dad's funeral. 'Share my Yoke' came on. Not the best of titles. I've heard all the egg jokes. But the most amazing words and music, written by Joy Webb, a Salvation Army officer who has the gift of getting right to the heart of things. They spoke to my broken heart. How did God know, about 25yrs ago when Joy wrote it, that they would be the very words I needed to hear yesterday? Here they are. I believe that '...