Tag: Love

Accept one another

These reflections on learning to accept one another are based on Romans 15:1–7.

‘Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.’ (v7)

We are continuing to look at how living our lives well includes reaching out to others. Here our focus is on humbly considering how well we accept one another.

FRACTURE OR UNITY?

I find it a sad indictment against the Church that there is so much infighting. Just a quick look on social media reveals many heated arguments, in which participants often angrily accuse others of not being real Christians. Tragically, the world at large can look upon so many parts of the Church and see fracture rather than unity.

In Romans Paul urges us to look to the needs of others. If we are stronger in a particular area than someone else, rather than looking down on them we should bear with them and encourage them. In all honesty, there are particular situations when this is more difficult. However, our motivation is always to be the same. We never deserved Jesus’ love and acceptance but He has poured it on us in bucket loads. So how can we withhold our love and acceptance from others?

LEARNING FROM BIBLICAL EXAMPLES

If you know you find it difficult to accept others, or if there is one person who is springing into your mind as you are reading this, be encouraged by verse 4: ‘For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.’

The Bible shows us how to love and accept others; it reveals God’s love for us and how Jesus was willing to be insulted for us – and ultimately die for us. It shows us the disasters that occurred when different people refused to accept one another (such as Cain and Abel, Saul with David). The Bible also shows us how God honours those who put their lives on the line for others (such as Esther and Ruth).

Prayer: Lord thank You for the reminder to accept those around me. Help me to share Your love today. Amen.

Stand firm

These reflections on how to stand firm are based on 2 Timothy 1:6–13.

‘For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.’

Paul wrote this letter to Timothy from prison, knowing that he was going to die soon. In it, he was encouraging Timothy to stand firm in the midst of difficulties, to ‘fan into flame’ (v6) the gift already inside him. It is obvious that Paul was enduring persecution for his faith. However, he knew Timothy’s leadership was also under fire. So he reminded him that he had all he needed.

All Christians, whether leaders or not, have the power, love and self-discipline that comes from the Holy Spirit. Those qualities help us to ‘guard the good deposit’ that we each have.

ENCOURAGED BY EXAMPLES

These devotional blogs are based on Bible study notes I wrote previously, and it was quite poignant for me to read who I mentioned in the entry about this scripture. I had been organising a women’s event called ‘praising through the pain’ and asked three women very dear to me to speak, who retained resolute faith through incredible suffering.

One of those was my dear mother, who, as I have shared many times before, endured so much physical suffering in her life. The others, too, have both encouraged me to stand firm through their own example. Paul was a great example to Timothy – who do you have in your life being the same for you?

GUARDING OUR HEARTS AND MINDS

Whatever we are facing we can stand firm in Jesus, and do not need to suffer shame – although we may endure difficulties. This passage reminds us of the truth and grace of the gospel. We may need to be bold, and fight against the schemes of the enemy at times. But we may also endure suffering for the sake of the gospel. Let’s remember we can call on the Holy Spirit to help us draw on the power, love and self-discipline He has already placed inside of us.

Prayer: Lord You have given me all I need to stand firm today. Holy Spirit, help me to avail myself of Your power, love and self-discipline. Amen.

Love and loss in lockdown

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It is my pleasure to introduce Tony Horsfall to my blog today. Tony is a wonderful, wise writer. This year has been particularly difficult for him, and yet he has shared with such honesty not only here, but in his new book (pictured above).

During 2020 the experience of lockdown has impacted all we do, and in particular caring for loved ones who are terminally ill, and grieving those who have passed away.

My wife Evelyn had been struggling with a recurrence of breast cancer for over four years when she was eventually told in February that her condition was terminal, with just months to live. The cancer had spread to her spine and she quickly deteriorated. We tried to care for her at home, but it became increasingly difficult, so she went into the local hospice. Because of visiting restrictions, I was allowed to go and stay with her. After a week she had improved sufficiently to be transferred to a local care home. Again, I decided to go with her – Evelyn in nursing care and myself as a resident – otherwise I would not have been able to see her.

DEALING WITH THE UNEXPECTED

The transition to a care home was a huge shock to the system. It was hot, noisy and full of hustle and bustle. It took us time to adjust, but gradually we got into a routine and had six good weeks together. Evelyn’s condition was deteriorating daily, and it was painful to watch. She needed a hoist to get her out of bed, and was slowly losing control of her bodily functions, which was a huge loss of dignity. We were aware of the risk of coronavirus in such a setting, but it was a risk we had to take.However, we both caught the virus. Surprisingly Evelyn recovered fairly quickly, but my condition worsened and I ended up in intensive care.

As I fought for my life, I thought I would never see Evelyn again. Intensive care was a lonely and frightening place. No visitors allowed; you were on your own. Across the room from me two other patients were on ventilators. I cried to God, ‘Lord, don’t let me have to go on a ventilator.’ A stream of prayer was going up for us, and with this and the medical care, I began to recover and after two weeks was allowed to return home, but not to the care home.

THE PAIN OF SEPARATION

I was physically very weak but what hurt the most was that I could no longer be with Evelyn. We had an occasional phone call, which was far from satisfactory, and soon she began to be confused. One afternoon the home called me because Evelyn was disturbed and wanted to come home. They asked me to reassure her that she was in the right place. Patiently, with tears rolling down my cheeks, I explained to her why we had taken the decision for her to be in care, and she calmed and seemed to understand. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

I began to feel guilty that I was at home and recovering while Evelyn was still in the care home and struggling by herself. I could be with our family, and see the grandchildren, but she was denied that pleasure. I felt I had let her down, that I had failed, since my aim had been to be with her to the end. Fortunately, God spoke a word to me: ‘She was mine long before she was yours and I won’t abandon her now’, he said. That lifted my despair, and I began to entrust her to the care of her heavenly Father.

SAYING GOODBYE

After a month of separation, we were allowed into the care home to see her as she neared the end. It was a healing time, even if a painful one. I was able to sit with her, hold her hand, feed her sips of water, give her a little food to eat and pray with her. Slowly she slipped away. Her lasts words were, ‘Thank you Jesus, you led me all the way.’

We held a Thanksgiving for her life over Zoom, which was strange but enabled people from all over the world to take part and mourn her passing. Then we had a service at the graveside, where about 70 attended, socially distanced. It was a moving tribute to her life, which was lived for Christ from a young age.

ADJUSTING TO LIFE ALONE

Grieving has not been easy during lockdown. I have missed seeing friends, being hugged, having the chance to share memories of Evelyn. Just when you most need your friends, they are not able to visit you. I have had to learn how to cook for myself and manage the house and garden. I have found eating alone especially difficult as I adjust to being single. 

Looking back, although it was a traumatic time, I can see how much God helped us. Our story is a story of love, the love we had for each other after 46 years of marriage. But also, the story of God’s love, from which nothing can separate us. Time and again he comforted me through Scripture, worship songs, acts of kindness and amazing provision. It is a story of the love of friends – those who prayed in tears, sent cards and flowers, wrote letters of encouragement, shared our journey. It is also a story of the love of strangers, of those health service professionals who cared for us, showed us kindness, went beyond the call of duty.

Perhaps this is the great gift to the world from the pandemic – the reminder that love is the most important thing of all.

Tony Horsfall is a retreat leader, author and mentor. Finding Refuge tells this story more fully, and is available from the author at tonyhorsfall@uwclub.net

Umasked: fuelled by misunderstanding; removed through love

It is such a pleasure to welcome Vicki Cottingham to my guest blog series Unmasked: stories of authenticity today. With courage and vulnerability she shares how difficult it was to remove her mask due to ill health and misunderstandings.

I am very familiar with mask wearing. I became ill with M.E. (also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) over twenty years ago. I also suffer with chronic migraines and depression. In the beginning it was particularly hard to adjust to. Whenever I prepared to meet with anyone I would make sure that my mask was firmly in place.

People in my life, such as family, friends and church, knew I was living with this long-term illness, but I didn’t like to talk about it. If anyone asked how I was, rather than be honest with them and tell them ‘I’m really struggling, I’m depressed and my poor health is getting to me’, I would tell them that I was fine thank you and then quickly change the subject. I would paste a smile on my face while inside I was an emotional mess.

I was afraid of being judged, afraid that people would think I was just being lazy, or a hypochondriac, or making a fuss about nothing, because everyone gets tired, and everyone has aches and pains, don’t they?

Being misunderstood

I was afraid of people’s misunderstanding, because being misunderstood just felt so painful. For me, being misunderstood was actually one of the hardest things to cope with when struggling with an unseen illness. Before my diagnosis, I remember my GP telling me all I needed was to get out in the fresh air, and go for a walk on the Downs. As if that would be the solution to whatever was ailing me.

When asked how I was, there were some people who weren’t really prepared for an honest answer. They were just going through the formalities of asking how I was. After all, that’s what we do, don’t we? We politely ask someone how they are today and expect the response to be ‘Fine, thank you’. The truth was, I was far from fine, but didn’t feel able to share what my life was really like. I couldn’t face dealing with people’s misunderstanding of me and my illness.

People would say to me how well I looked and then ask me how I was. I didn’t then feel able to say that actually I felt really ill that day, that it had been hard to get to church that morning and that I would need to rest for the remainder of the day as a result. Because I was so hurt by misunderstanding I resolved to keep my mask on to avoid being hurt any more. I thought it was better to keep the truth to myself, and so I hid behind the mask that I had perfected.

Now that I can see things more clearly, I realise that it wasn’t others’ fault that they didn’t understand what M.E. was and how it affected me, because at that time very little was known or understood of the illness. I also know that none of these people intentionally set out to cause me pain. I was overly sensitive as a result of the illness and was also struggling to come to terms with it myself.

Impossible to maintain the mask

I feared being vulnerable and letting people see the real me. What if I broke down and cried in front of them? What would they think of me? I felt I had to pretend I had it all together. It was all pretence and the mask was my protection.

I found that wearing this mask for any length of time was hard work. It took a lot of energy. Energy I didn’t really have and so I felt drained by trying so hard to keep it from slipping. It was impossible to maintain and was certainly not a healthy way for me to live.

In my season of mask wearing, while I was distant with others, my relationship with God grew stronger and deeper. Over time he enabled me to remove my mask.

What helped me to take off my mask

There were two things in particular that helped me to remove my mask and be real. First, was my relationship with God. When it feels like everything has been taken away from you, all you are left with is God, and God came to mean everything to me. He reassured me of His unconditional love for me time and time again and, because He loves and accepts me I have no fear of His rejection, His displeasure or His judgement. It says in 1 John 4:10–18 (NLT):

This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins… We know how much God loves us, and we have put our trust in his love.  God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect… Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear.  

God created me deliberately and so He knows and understands the real me. I can be completely honest with Him; I don’t need to hide who I am, how I’m really feeling or pretend that I have no problems or struggles. As Psalm 139:1–4 (NLT) says:

 O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord.

It is very freeing and liberating when we realise that with God there really is no need to pretend to be something we are not, that we can be who we really are: ‘And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ John 8:32 (NLT).

The other thing that helped me was having real, intimate friendships with others. I said how some people just didn’t understand what I was going through. But there were others who stood by me and offered me friendship, even when they didn’t fully understand. They have given me practical help, have listened to me as I’ve explained how I’m really feeling and the struggles I’m having, and they have prayed for and with me. They have shown me that they really care about me. They have given me love and acceptance. I found that there was no need for me to wear a mask when I was with them. I was able to be real and honest with them.

Over the years I have learnt the value of these friendships and God has blessed me with some great friends. These genuine, intimate friendships take time to develop – they don’t happen overnight, but they are definitely worth investing in.

In these friendships we: ‘Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honouring each other’ Romans 12:10 (NLT). These friendships mirror the relationship we have with God. In John 15:12 (NLT) Jesus says, ‘This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you’.

Giving permission to others

I have found that when I am real with others it also gives them the freedom to be real with me. It’s something we all need – to be free to be who God created us to be. In this kind of environment, we feel safe to be ourselves, rather than pretend to be something that we are not. We can share our struggles, our fears, our sins, our problems etc., and know that we are loved and accepted. It’s in this kind of environment that we can all have the confidence and security to remove our masks and be real with each other.

Vicki Cottingham lives in the South East of England with her husband and two teenage children. She has a love for God’s Word, studying it and sharing it with others through the written and spoken word.  Her joy of writing led her to writing a regular devotional blog called Hope for Today.

 

Love is… forgiveness and grace

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steveand-i-christmas2016I am sharing this post today to commemorate National Marriage Week as well as Valentine’s Day. I know that the latter is an over-commercialised event, but my husband and I grab it as an opportunity to take time out to spend with one another. I also wanted to share this post as it my story of grace – which is the subject of my friend James’ new book, Mosaic of Grace, released yesterday (you can check it out here). What I share below is taken from my own book, which will be published later this year. I first wrote this for Amy Boucher Pye’s Forgiveness Fridays blog, but feel it is an appropriate way to celebrate my own marriage today. If it weren’t for my husband’s forgiveness and grace extended towards me there is no way we would still be journeying together today…

 

Our lives were shattered – lying about in little pieces on the floor. And the worst thing was that it was pretty much all down to me. I had chosen to believe the lies, especially the one that whispered that my husband didn’t care about me. I believed it because he worked around the clock in a recording studio and there was little left of him when he was at home. I believed it because my heart was hurting and I was lonely…

Vulnerable and foolish

As a woman who had grown up with self-esteem issues, I didn’t deal well with feeling abandoned. When I came before God with my feelings that I didn’t matter to my husband, His answer was that He wanted to take care of me and show me how to lean on Him completely. But I threw it back in His face. I needed someone who could hug me – and God just didn’t seem physical enough at the time.

But this put me in danger of allowing my emotional needs to be fed by other sources. Eventually, a friendship with another man in my church, which had started innocently enough, resulted with us deciding to leave everything behind and to start a new life together. With our actions we devastated the lives of my husband, the man’s wife and all the other members of our close-knit church community.

Lost

Two weeks later he chose to go back to his wife. I was left reeling, feeling totally deserted – but also knowing I deserved it all. Tellingly, it was my husband whom I rang once the other guy left. After all, my husband had been my best friend since I was a teenager so it seemed natural and I called him without thinking. How hard it must have been for him to take me back home, watch me huddled in the foetal position, sobbing endlessly. The next day he moved me, and a lot of my belongings, to my parents’ home where I was to stay until I had healed enough to discover what was next for my life.

I had lost everything by wrongfully pinning my hopes on another human being rather than God. And I was like a wounded animal at times – licking my wounds, lashing out, wanting to be left alone. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for my husband going home, getting up for work each day and not knowing whether our marriage was salvageable.

Of course, we had deep issues that needed dealing with within our marriage. But I had to get to a place, first, of believing there was a future there. That I could look past all the years of hurt and misunderstanding and repent as well as forgive, and move on.

A taste of real love

When my husband visited me, at times I felt a little suffocated, as I knew he was trying his best to win me back. But, most of the time, he was gracious, gentle and loving, knowing also when to give me space. How he responded to me during that horrific time of limbo taught me what real love is. He showed me Jesus’ love for me in a very tangible way.

I had used him terribly – basically turned my back on him – and all our friends knew about it. And yet he was there, whenever I felt I could see him, a solid anchor who remained firm. He showed me that, even though I had done the worst thing I could to him, his love for me hadn’t faltered. He proved, over and over again, that he wanted our marriage to work.

Yes, we had counselling. And yes, we both had to face up to our failings, to understand the responsibility we had for one another and the changes that needed to occur. But his gentle patience during that time melted my hardened, broken heart. Even after I was back home, there would be moments when I would be wracked with emotional pain all over again and he would just hold me, caring for me through the tears.

Salvation through sacrifice

I know it must have been so, so excruciatingly difficult for him, and he certainly laid down his life for me. He also spoke to his bosses about what was going on, and the result was a miracle: studios always work around the clock but they agreed to put into practise the unheard of rule that the studio my husband ran would close by 8pm. Yes, his sacrifice saved our marriage – and revealed another layer of God’s love to me in such a powerful way.

Although this period of time was more than 16 years ago now, I can’t help but think of my husband’s loving sacrifice anytime I ponder the concept of forgiveness. You can read more of our story, and the passion for authentic openness that it birthed inside of me, in my forthcoming book: Taking off the mask: learning to live authentically.