Advent

This video says it perfectly.

Peace.  Be still.

Holy Ground (A Psalm of Christchurch)

Holy Ground
(C) Claudia Mcfie and Louise Edgecumbe, 2014

When the walls come crashing down
I'm left alone on shaking ground
You are here.
Your promise is unchanging
You're still here by my side
You are here.

In the clouds of your glory
This world falls behind me
You are here.

This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here on your presence.
This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here in your presence,
Holy Ground.

On my knees I'm crying out
My praying words are failing me
You are here.
You carry me through darkness
Holding me at all times
You are here.

In the clouds of your glory
This world falls behind me
You are here.

This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here on your presence.
This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here in your presence,
Holy Ground.

First performed at Westside Church, Christchurch 27 July 2014
This recording 15 October 2014.
Many thanks to:
Vocals: Hannah Powell, Claudia McFie, Jairus Robb
Keyboard: Hannah Powell
Guitar: Jairus Robb
Trumpet; Louise Edgecumbe
Bass: Amy Scott
Drums: Rebekah Wain
Recording and production: Mike Young

"A prayer sung is a prayer prayed twice." (St Augustine, my paraphrase)

It's been a battle against discouragement to get to this point, with lots of bouts of “Not good enough”s.  In February, near the anniversary of the 2011 earthquake, I was writing a poem of my prayer, a "Psalm" of my journey through the last few years through post disaster trauma. Reflecting that when I was not able to pray, to "feel" God's presence, there remained a certainty within me that He was there, and bringing me through this time. 

As I reflect on His presence, I've become aware that even in the worst moments, when I was running for my life as building and masonry  crashed to the ground around me, He was there.

As I praise and worship in the Now, the memories of That Moment become part of this worship.  Somehow at the same time His presence reaches back into past and redeems the source of the pain, making that very moment when the world was lurching beneath my feet a Holy place.

Like the scene in Shadowlands when Joy tells Jack “the pain then is part of the happiness now” and vica versa.

It doesn't matter what you're circumstances are, what you're facing, even in the worst of  all times: Right here, right now, in this time and this place, God is here. This is Holy Ground.

Good Enough

“Nice try,” the thought whispers in my mind, “but not really good enough.”

Actually, I’ve put my all into this, and surely “Good Enough” isn’t too much to aim for?

Hold on, that thought isn’t true… too late, my emotions have already kicked in and my body has reacted to them.  There’s a sort of hollow feeling in my stomach, my throat feels tight, and pressure behind my eyes suggest weepiness. 

Images flash through my mind.  Some are memories, others are “what if”s of worse case scenarios.

But it’s NOT TRUE, I tell myself.  I am a “good enough” wife/mother/friend/employee/worshipper.  No-one has actually said anything to imply that I’m not “good enough,” yet there’s a striving with me to work harder, try better, because I don’t want to “fail”.

Remember, I don’t have to DO anything to earn God’s love.  Or my husband/children/friend’s love.

Thoughts like “not good enough” wind around our minds like some kind of vine or creeper, trapping us inside, choking us from trying.

Jesus used entangling thorns as a metaphor for “the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth” that “choke [the word] making it unfruitful.” (Matthew 13:24, NIV). 

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:5, NIV)

I used to think this verse was talking about the thoughts that tempt us to sin.  But now I’m starting to realise it also relates to those thoughts that would hold us back from being and doing what God is calling us to. 

These thoughts don’t like being “taken captive”.  In the last month or so as I’ve been unravelling this basket, they’ve been getting louder and more frequent.  But I know them for what they are – discouraging lies.

Time to do some weeding.