Erosion

     There was a phrase in a quote uttered in a meeting today, something about compassion fatigue being an erosion of …. Well, you know when you’re listening but it dawns on you too late that something profound has been said. That’s what happened but the word erosion stuck.

Erosion it’s that thing that happens when something is taken away. I seem to think that it happens slowly. The top soil eroded away by the steady impact of the rain. 

I remember one of my teammates years ago had a degree in agriculture. I remember that she said she studied things like how to plant crops to stop erosion. This was when we lived in Austria, in vineyard country. I remember her saying that vineyards are the only crops that are planted up and down the hillside. Any other plant that was cultivated this way would cause erosion. I’ve not researched this—it’s just coming to mind because of today’s use of the word. 

I’m wondering if the way we plant, the foundations of how we care are related to the outcome of compassion fatigue. Are we setting ourselves up for erosion? I don’t know. 

I do know that I need a lot of steady personal discipline and spiritual alertness to put me in a position where I can pastor--care and comfort with the compassion of Jesus—or it all seems shallow. Sometimes it can even be self serving—caring with a selfish outcome in mind. 

Maybe that’s when the erosion starts. There are good articles and long papers on compassion fatigue—one was probably being quoted in our meeting. But only one word—erosion—snagged in my heart today. 

Lord, it’s your compassion, your steady consistent love, that we want to show to the world, to our neighbours, our family. Give us hearts of flesh—that tender response to your nudges. And when we lose our sense of dependance on you, will you pour out your holy topsoil on our eroded hillside so that we can bear fruit in season and grow our capacity for love.

My Lovely Sons

    I just asked Simon what I should write about and he said, ‘my lovely sons’. So here goes. I have two lovely sons, born 12 minutes apart. Huge babies, adorable toddlers and lovely young men now in their early twenties.

Simon was living and working in London when the virus lockdown began to shape our daily lives. He was ill with a fever just days before the lockdown started and had to self isolate in his room. We had been trying to figure out different means of getting him home but then when the travel restrictions came in all the options disappeared. He was out of reach. We didn’t hug him until August having not seen him since January. 

In early December he took advantage of a travel window to come see us, knowing he would have to work over Christmas. But suddenly new guidelines came into force. He was furloughed from his job so he didn’t return. And then Wales went into what we’re calling the 3^rd lockdown. So we are enjoying having him camping in the guest room, coping with the the small bag of things he brought for his 4 day visit. 

Simon has become my weekly shopping buddy as we go to collect the grocery order from the supermarket. It’s usually the only time in the week I get in the car and it’s nice to have this time to chat with him. He’s alway up for a conversation about theology or music or why we should get a cat. He’s got a real servants heart and helps with the cooking and walking the dog. And he plays the piano. It’s so nice to have live music reverberating through the house. 

Eliot plays the piano too but he’s working full time and usually only plays late at night after work. Eliot’s been living at home about 18 months now. Last February, after getting his driving license, he got a new job delivering pizza. Who would have thought that this would be such a blessing? It’s regular work and has helped him become an excellent driver. Pizza, well food, is considered essential. So he has been working consistently through the whole covid crisis. He’s also been doing online courses.  And he’s been adventurous in the kitchen. We’ve had sourdough bread, stollen, brownies, mince pies, to name a just a few. Eliot’s also been helpful around the house and walks the dog. The dog sleeps in his room and he’s carried the burden of being woken up when our ageing pooch has been sick. 

Over the last few years we’ve rarely had both ‘boys’ home at the same time for more than a few days. So to have them both here for 7 weeks now is a real treat. They’ve been playing chess, and Nintendo together. They’ve been sharing funny videos with each other and squealing with laughter. We’ve all watched numerous films over the Christmas break and enjoyed Simon’s recommendations which included The Mandalorian.

The lockdown isn’t easy for any of us but one of the joys has been having my lovely boys around the house. I miss the opportunities to see their sisters terribly. But having the boys here encourages me. This pandemic has meant limited time with the people I love. But this 3^rd lockdown season has meant more time with my lovely sons. For this I’m thankful.

Let your work be shown to your servants,

    and your glorious power to their children.

 

Let the favour of the Lord our God be upon us,

    and establish the work of our hands upon us;

    yes, establish the work of our hands!

Psalm 90:16,17

And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery,

 but be filled with the Spirit, 

addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, 

singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, 

giving thanks always 

and for everything to God the Father 

in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 

submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ. 

Ephesians 5:18-21

Veganuary

    It’s a clever term that sticks in your head. But it might link itself to memories of extreme vegans you’ve met. The ones that burned their leather Bibles or don’t eat honey because it exploits bees. 

I went vegan after being diagnosed with cancer. Well, at first I was vegetarian—after we consumed all that comfort food stew that Julie made on the shock/horror day of my diagnosis. But everything I was reading about eating to heal cancer and the effects of the treatment lead on from vegan to ‘plant based whole foods’ or PBWF for short. But vegan is more in the common vernacular. It’s the word you need to use in a restaurant as an easy explanation of your needs. It’s the word to look for on labelling. 

The problem is that vegan doesn’t mean unprocessed, or without added sugar or nutritious. There are a lot of things that fit in the vegan food category that no one would ever claim could help your body’s health. White granulated sugar is a prime example—vegan (well after investigating this, only UK granulated sugar is vegan, not in the USA).

So just to be clear, I ‘went vegan’ for my health. Purely selfish, no animal love involved. And for nearly 4 years now I’ve kept it pretty strictly. PBWF is much harder. The plant based part I’m pretty good at. The whole food part is much more difficult. It means no processing so that would include oils. Olive oil is a processed food. The fiber has been extracted. Fibre is where the good stuff is. 

I’m not anywhere near adhering to a PBWF eating program on a full-time basis. And I have days that I eat fish—which sometimes includes tartar sauce that isn’t vegan. And on special family days like Thanksgiving and Christmas I do eat the turkey and ham—because food is more than nourishment, it’s woven into our personal culture. 

So for a month or so short of 4 years I’ve been changing my personal food culture. Ask my family, they see it. I eat a spinach salad nearly every day. I never have butter. I have soya milk on my granola with added chia and pumpkin seeds. I drink green tea. I love roasted cauliflower. I think that hummus is a great accompaniment to just about everything. Eating vegan has become part of my ‘rule of life.’

We’re nearly at the end of Veganuary, but if for any reason you are thinking of radically changing your eating habits, I want to encourage you. I feel great, I have lots of energy. I’ve enjoyed a variety of new foods. My cancer status is ’no evidence of disease’—and that’s another longer story. 

And if you are facing a health challenge of any kind, can I lovingly challenge you to give up meat? And eggs? Milk products? Yes, I know that one is hard. Can you do it one day a week? Or one meal a day? Look at what you’re eating. Maybe there are already vegan meals that are already part of your food culture. Give it a try. Give it one month, any month, the month that you alter your food culture habits and see what happens. 

Maybe you will fall in love with hummus too!

Old Slates, New Underneath

 

We’re doing a lot of walking around the neighbourhood during these pandemic lockdown days. There is a very old building—formally a school, currently the council archive offices. Well the whole building is getting a makeover, completely gutted. And the car park too, excavations, new drains everything. I think it’s going to look exquisite in the end. There are a couple beautiful lead capped spires that are being ‘renewed’. We walk by often to see what has happened and if we have any little people with us—well, there are diggers and cranes and exciting stuff!

They took the roof off. That means removing the 100+ year old slates. They were carefully stacked up at the top of the scaffolding that encircles the building. Piles of 10 or twenty slates. On another day a layer of blue membrane appeared on the roof trusses. Then on the blue the new fresh batons ready for slates to be nailed in place. At first I didn’t realise that they were going to put the old original slates back in place. But as day after day I saw the blue being covered by slate I realised these were the original slates. Now nearly all of the slates have been put back in place. 

It’s not all finished yet. It’s going to look old, same stone walls, same slates. But I bet the windows will look shinny and new. And of course I can’t wait to see what happens to that car park and will there be a completely new extension? We wait to see. 

The thing that’s been stirring me up is the old slates with new underneath. We are like that. Jesus has made us new, underneath. It’s all good, but we might look old on the outside. Our house has an original roof. After storms I go out and look to see if any of the slates have fallen or the clay tiles crashed to the ground. Because I know the wood underneath is old, I know the nails will fail eventually. But hey this other building is now set for a further hundred years of storms—slates held with new nails in new wood. And us? Those who put our trust in Jesus? Under the weary bodies—newness of life, set for eternity. Ready for the storms. So don’t be fooled, this weary body has been changed, refreshed, readied for battle in the secret places. And there are many like us. Old slates, new underneath.

That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.

2 Cor 4:16

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

2 Cor 5:17

So in this town full of historic homes, lovely on the outside—but sometimes slowly rotting underneath, seeing this restoration reminds me that Jesus is restoring us from the inside out, preserving those key features that he built into us in the first place.

What's in your background?

I was on a call today when the person I was talking to said, ‘what’s that? Is that a Tonka truck?’ That’s when I had to explain that the guest room, turned zoom studio is also the overflow storage facility for things that aren’t presently needed, like toys for the beloved grandkids who haven’t been able to visit. 

I’m usually careful to check that the ‘background’ is pretty neutral—nothing offensive or distracting. But some things like a BIG YELLOW TRUCK are pretty recognisable. I forget that my zoom guests might have me on ‘full screen’ so that truck on the floor 5 feet behind my chair was probably very prominent in the backdrop. 

Of course there were other things just out of view. Stacks of books to give away, a bag of clothes for the charity shop and a bed with no sheets on it—just a pile of bedding. 

We’ve been studying the shema using the Bible Project in our small group. The charge Moses gives to the people, ‘Hear O Israel the Lord our God is one, love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength’. Love God with everything, with your muchness. 

Tonka trucks are so recognisable because of their color and their shape. I hope that the way that I love God makes me unmistakably identified as a Christ follower. 

Lord there’s a mess in the background of my life, things I don’t know what to do with, things that won’t go away, but you are also there. I recognise you, the colour of your love, the shape of your kindness the presence of your Spirit. Thank you for being there.

#Tonka #BibleProject #Missions #Bible

 

My guest post for Elizabeth Musser

 In August my friend Elizabeth asked me to be a guest writer on her blog. After posting this on my Caring Bridge site, it was posted on her blog.

https://elizabethmusser.wordpress.com/2020/08/18/letters-to-the-lord-three-days/

the sound of my voice

A friend has been organising compline prayer via zoom on Sunday evenings during this odd pandemic season where we aren’t getting out much. It’s just 20 minutes of responsive readings and a short meditation—a poem or short reading. Just 10 of us speaking truths into the computer camera, united in our isolation. Proclaiming unity by sharing truth. It’s been a  place of solace for Wayne and I. A place where we have no responsibility. A place we are free to receive. 

But after a few weeks we said yes we will participate a little deeper, Do one of the readings, or two. And we read, precious words, truth to sustain us in difficult times and to encourage our hearts. 

Afterwards a message comes from my friend. ‘Why did i well-up so much when I heard each of you two Platts reading the bible aloud last night?’

Yes, why? Well because we had been in a group together a few years back. A group that read the bible together. In that same wider group of friends we also had a season of recording bible readings—our own audio bible reading plan—cooked up at a new years day discussion around our table. I think we called it ‘read the bible to me.’ It was a group that loved each other. 

And last week a friend tweeted that she had been recording for the new her.Bible. An audio Bible with women’s voices. I got very excited. I even said to one group of colleagues that maybe I was too excited about this. Why? one man asked. Because my experience with audio bibles has been like a call back to listening to the radio as a child. Doesn’t anyone else think these recordings sound like American radio presenters? Or some people swear by the David Suchet NIV recordings. But hey I’m a mystery fan—so Suchet will always be Inspector Pirot to me. That doesn’t exactly mesh with the Psalms or even I Peter. So I was very excited. My colleague said he would check it out. Why? Because his mother used to read him the bible out loud.  Oh, that a memory of a mothers voice would draw us to holy reading….

So I get the app going, I listen to one of the gospels. It’s good, I’m happy. But then I finally listen to Ecclesiastes. Is that my friend’s voice? Yes, it is. She’s not my friend down the road, she’s not a friend from church or work or school. She’s an author I met on a ministry trip. I did a writing workshop with her—on poetry. And here is her voice reading poetry—and suddenly I hear more than the scripture. I hear a strong brave woman. And I met her again on another trip and I have her books on my shelf. I keep listening and i hear her speaking about Jesus. I hear the wise words she said to me when we spoke at a table in the corner after the event. She is my friend and the sound of her voice calms my heart.

Is that what made my friend ‘well-up’ when we were reading during compline prayer? Is it that the sound of our voice brings so much more that the words? 

And Peter, what did he hear when Jesus asked him, Peter, do you love me? Did Peter hear all the times Jesus asked questions, do you want to be well? What do you want? Who do you say that I am? Why are you so afraid? Did he hear all the times he pulled Jesus aside and asked for help? Did he hear the compassion of the Jesus’ heart that raised a widows son?

But I guess my real question is what do people hear when they hear my voice? Especially my kids. Do they hear fun, compassion and love? I hope so. I’m sure they hear other things too…But I’m going to keep speaking so they have a fuller range. 

And it’s late and I’m writing this in the living room and a big spider is running across the floor so that’s all folks.