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Spat out

Nov 2, 2021

Tonight, we turn our clocks back 1 hour again.  Tomorrow the sun will rise a little earlier, but it will then go and hide again earlier too.

There was a massive storm during the night, and I woke up with rain coming down in buckets, the wind snapping at the trees.  Recently I’ve noticed that it is still dark when I get up.   From my small first floor prayer room the trees on the far side of the park have disappeared… perfectly camouflaged against the dark night.

Today I got up a bit later, and I am happily surprized to see them again.  Still some green in parts, clearly imprinted on the pure white cloud paper behind.

Is this not what fear tries to do to us too?  It wants to keep us in the dark, so that we no longer see heaven’s wonders all around us.

“All men receive blessing from God, and as a consequence owe Him thanks.

Of the gratitude due, however, they fall far short.

Some good things come anonymously, and are thus received unthankfully.

Other good things, God’s free gifts, are traced to some earthly source,

and so produce no thankful feeling.

And then the multitude of life’s mercies, so obviously Divine,

 are yet so common that their origin is forgotten,

and they are received as a matter of course.”

J.E. Henry

Just like those trees.

The commentator goes a bit further, and this touches my heart:

There are no ungrateful Christians.

Once your heart has been blessed with the grace of salvation, an everlasting flame of thankful service is ignited, finding its way out in the world wherever and whenever.

Jonah’s praise song, his song of thankfulness from deep in the darkest insides of the fish in chapter 2, ends with these words:

“The Lord commanded the fish to vomit up Jonah on the shore.

And it did.”

Jonah 2:10 CEV

And I get thinking…

Am I still thankful for all the coincidental blessings I encounter every day, the magnitude of natural wonders that perfectly align and the immeasurable daily miracles around me and in me?

Nothing has changed just because it has grown dark.

And when I have learned to be thankful even in the deepest, darkest places,

the fish will spit me out, just as he is commanded.

To there where the light is.

Your inspiration for the week:   God You are

About the author

Maxie Heppell

Maxie Heppell lives with her husband Èmil in Newbury in the United Kingdom. Feel free to visit Maxie’s blog Genade is ’n dag lank


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