I have been working through a mentoring course this year, which is run by Jo Naughton. It is designed to find out what God’s purposes are for us, to grow in our gifts and to develop a character that would help us to carry out our calling. Each week we focus on a certain aspect to help towards this.
I can honestly say that this has helped me tremendously in being able to move forward in what I feel God is calling me to do. I have noticed a big change as I have been working through some hard topics. As a result, it is a change that has been a massive step forward in my faith and my healing.
As we approach Easter, I reflect on what Jesus did for me on the cross. How He died, where He died, what He died for and what happened to His body afterwards causes me to look back on the moment where I stood by a graveside with the fate of someone’s forgiveness in my hands.
Is it possible to forgive someone when they have done wrong to you?
This story first appeared as a feature on Anna Smit and Debbie Barrow Michael’s blog as part of their 31 day write on Miracles. It featured over two days because it wasn’t just one miracle that took place. A few days ago (4th January) was my daughters birthday and I have chosen to share the whole of my story here.
Being a Christian, I probably should automatically believe in miracles because of the whole “Jesus turning water into wine” thing, etc. Honestly though? These were just like stories to me…until I experienced my own miracles! I pray that whoever reads this will see that miracles, in whatever shape or form, are possible, and only by God’s loving grace.
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” — Proverbs 13:12
There are seasons that come and go, and there are seasons which just never seem to end. Have you ever felt like you’re stuck in a season that just won’t end? Maybe it’s a season of waiting for healing, a breakthrough in a relationship, or an ongoing problem that needs resolving.
At first, you hold on to hope. You pray. You believe that Spring is just around the corner. But as time passes by and answers seem distant, hope feels like an eternal Winter.
The writer of Proverbs knew this experience well. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” This verse speaks to that ache deep down within us when the thing we long for is not happening. Over and over again. The waiting is unbearable. It’s not just disappointment—it’s a weariness of the soul.
Folks, my soul is so weary.
But the verse doesn’t stop there. It offers hope: “A longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” When our hope is realised, it’s like new life springing forth, renewing our spirit in a way that keeps us going. However, when we are in that season of waiting, it’s almost impossible to see how that tree of life will ever grow.
The Season of Waiting
The Bible is filled with stories of people who experienced long seasons of waiting. Abraham waited decades for the son that God promised him. Moses had to wait 40 years before leading the nation of Israel out of Egyptian captivity. When Jesus finally came, even He had to wait 30 years before His purpose and promise was fully realised.
Waiting often feels like wandering through a wilderness without a map. We question God’s timing. We wonder if He has forgotten us. Yet, the very nature of longing brings a deeper truth: we were created to desire something greater than this broken world can offer.
The Hope of Christmas
Candle of Hope
So, where is this hope? (Spoiler alert – This is where Christmas comes in). The birth of Jesus is God’s ultimate answer to the long-held hopes of His people. For centuries, they longed for rescue. And here it comes, in a quiet stable in Bethlehem, their hope was realised. Jesus is the reminder that even when we don’t see it, God is always working to fulfil His purpose.
Christmas reminds us that no season of waiting is permanent. The same God who sent His Son into the world sees our waiting and our longing. While the solution may not arrive in the way or the timing we expect, the hope of Jesus is the tree of life we can cling to even in the longest, hardest seasons.
Holding on to Hope
As we celebrate Christmas, let’s allow the joy of Christ’s arrival to remind us that our longing isn’t forever. Our hope is not in circumstances, but in the unshakable truth that God is with us—Emmanuel. Even when we can’t yet see the tree of life, we can trust that it is growing, rooted in the promises of the One who came to give us eternal hope.
This Christmas, may you find peace in knowing that your longing is seen, your hope is not forgotten, and the God who fulfilled the ultimate promise will bring new life to your heart once again.
This post was originally written for the Five Minute Friday Community. This is where a number of writers gather for a weekly writing challenge around a single word prompt. We write to our hearts content, but only for five minutes (or there about).
This weeks word prompt is ‘long’. Click here if you want to see what other people wrote. You can also have a go yourself. What do you think of when you hear the word ‘long ’?
I know all too well the weight of silence and the stigma of shame with being a survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse (CSA). However, the shame is not mine to hold. It is time to break the silence. With that in mind, yesterday, I donned on my #notmyshame t-shirt with a sense of purpose.
I shared on social media an insight into why I wore my t-shirt…click here to view it.
As I nervously stepped through the hospital doors, I felt a sense of pride as I thought about the change I might spark. The words emblazoned on my chest felt like an outcry against the shadows of shame.
As I navigated my way through the hospital, I noticed the glances, the curious whispers, and the hesitant stares. But I stood tall and remembered the purpose of wearing my t-shirt. Yesterday was not about hiding; it was about breaking the silence.
In the Waiting Room
I could feel the different reactions towards what I was wearing. No-one spoke a word. They didn’t need to. In my mind I hoped for conversations to spark. I could see what they wanted to say in their eyes.
One nurse softened her face towards me and her eyes seemed to be filled with empathy. A gentleman with his eyes wide open looked to be in shock. When I caught a glimpse of him staring, his head quickly turned with that “stiff British upper-lip” look on him that resonated with disdain.
My name was called. As I entered the room I could see in the doctor’s eyes that he was a little uncomfortable about my message. But amidst all of this, there was a small change that surfaced. When it came to examining me, the doctor without question, called in the nurse to chaperone me. This has never been asked of me before. For the first time, I felt there was a seed of awareness that had been planted in his mind and it made him recognise that I had a need.
For the first time, although I didn’t speak, I felt heard. In those moments, I felt a sense of power knowing that wearing the t-shirt had ignited a sense of understanding. The journey towards breaking the chains of shame is not without its hurdles, but with every moment I wear the #notmyshame t-shirt, it gives me strength and paves the path for others to follow and break the silence.
On the 1st May 2024 the NotMyShame global movement will mark the power of authentic voices from around the world, turning the tables on the silence and shame of Child Sexual Abuse. To learn more about this movement please click here.
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Psalm 13:1
I long for the void of what seems like an absent God to be fulfilled. It feels like God has either forgotten me, or he has turned his back against me. I know I have been taught God knows everything and never forgets me, but it’s not what I feel right now. Maybe the medication I am on is dulling my senses and this is the reason why I don’t feel God is around me anymore?
I know, as Christians, we go through seasons where we feel far from God. This is not a new phenomenon. It was the same with David in this Psalm, it’s the same with me, and I’m sure it is the same for many people reading this. (Do I hear a “hell, yeah!”)
It’s like sending a text message to someone, seeing they have read it and then they don’t answer.
Why don’t they answer?
Are they ignoring me?
Have I done something to upset them?
Do they not want to know me anymore?
Am I being abandoned?
These are the thoughts that go through my head. Working through these seasons where we feel God is ignoring us is not easy. Especially when feelings of being abandoned are conjured up. Memories from our childhood start to surface. Before we know it, we are consumed with what has happened in our past instead of what is going on now, or thinking of what the future holds.
It’s an ever decreasing spiral, and one that takes a lot of mental energy to turn around. Believe me, I know! I have been in a deep valley for a while now wondering if I will ever be on top of the mountain again. Where is God when I need Him? Where is He when all I see is a dead place?
Through gentle words of loving people, I have realised that I’ve acclimatised myself to these uncomfortable places.
I am the one who is absent.
I need to climb out of this deep valley in order to be more present with the One who I feel is absent. It’s not going to be easy, but I know it’s not impossible. I know, because I caught a glimpse of it last week when I went out for a walk with my family.
I stood at the top of the hill we had just climbed looking out for miles on end. For the first time in ages, I felt where God was. He was there all along…and He was just waiting for me to find Him. Well, for a moment, I found Him on that day. And this gives me hope to keep on climbing.
This post was written for the Five Minute Friday Community. A number of writers gather for a weekly writing challenge around a single word prompt and write to our hearts content, but only for five minutes (or their abouts).
This weeks word prompt is ‘absence’. Click here if you want to see what other people wrote. You can also have a go yourself. What do you think of when you hear the word ‘absence’?
Christmas is meant to be “the most wonderful time of the year”, or so the song says. I wonder if Andy Williams was in the real world when he sung that song. “Kids jingle belling”? More like kids jingle yelling! Who’s with me on that one?
It is meant to be a time of celebration, whether you believe in what Christmas is about or not. It’s not just about exchanging gifts, although I know it can seem nice, but that does cause a lot of pressure. Christmas is not about the food we eat or the amount of drink we have, although I am enjoying indulging a little, even if my waistline isn’t.
This Christmas has not been an easy one. Circumstances beyond my control have made me re-think what Christmas means to me. I wrote quite vulnerably in a previous post wondering where God is in the midst of my mess. So with this in mind, trying to focus on what Christmas is about has been quite a challenge.
A new way of seeing
We are in a season where, despite the darkness, there is plenty of light around us: The lights we put around the house; the decorations on the tree; the candles we light. However, when you feel the light is not enough, trying to find a new way of seeing things is hard when you feel you are surrounded by the darkness. I certainly struggled to “be of good cheer” at “the most wonderful time of the year”.
In the lead-up to Christmas, I was focussing on what was missing around me. Then it clicked. I needed to shift my focus. I needed to look towards what I had, and not worry about what, or who, was missing.
Earlier, I mentioned that Christmas is not about the exchanging of gifts. However, maybe Christmas is about a type of ‘present’. Not the gifts we give, but about how we can be present with each other. Christmas is about focussing on the people we have around us and coming together to help each other.
Once I realised this, I started to look inward instead of outward. My heart then began to glow because I became more present with the loved ones I had near. I saw in my children the joy they bring, and in my husband the love I needed so much. Christmas, to me, then became a little more wonderful again.
I clearly remember what happened to me when I was 3 years old and the shame that came with it. Some people say this is far too young to remember specific details.
I disagree.
I remember what my room was like and where furniture was positioned. Every detail of what was done by a man I didn’t know is still in my mind. I vividly remember the shame felt when I spoke of what was done.
