My alarm goes off. It is Wednesday morning, and some strange alchemy has happened overnight. When I went to bed our duvet was made of cotton and a light fibre fill, but the temperature difference between under the duvet and outside the duvet has transformed the cotton and filling, into lead.
Trapped by the weight of my duvet I give thanks to God for a new day. I praise him that his mercies are new every morning and ask for strength to move the duvet and get out of bed.
Strength has not yet come; I’m still trapped by my duvet, so I open my Bible to Lamentations 3: 22 – 24:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
My soul, my mind, my body needs to hear these words every morning, but especially on this morning.
Steadfast love. I ponder that in English it takes more than one word to express the beautiful Hebrew word, hesed.
Hesed – “a noun denoting the allegiance or self-giving that one person may show to another when there is no established basis for doing so” [John Goldingay].
Gratefulness for the hesed of God which most supremely has come to us in the person of Jesus floods my mind and body.
The thought of self-giving love causes my mind to turn to Philippians 2: 5 – 11 and the great Christ hymn of the early church. My mind rests there a moment in thankfulness before snapping back to the thought that God’s mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning.
“Lord, have mercy” I pray, “Lord have mercy on this world”.
I lie in bed and wait quietly for God.
My mind starts to wander, the to-do list of the day starts. I looked at my phone to pause my alarm and the news feed catches my eye and the news starts to floods my mind, anxiety starts to rise in my chest.
I focus again on God.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
The tightness in my chest eases. I pick up my bible again and continue to read Lamentations 3:
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
I am not good at waiting; I am not good at being quiet.
I thank God for the alchemy which has turned my duvet to lead – I needed that miracle this morning so, trapped by its weight, I might wait quietly for the Lord.
I concentrate on God, on his loyal hesed love, and returning to quiet ask that I might in this moment, and through this day, know his love strengthening my soul, penetrating my thoughts, surrounding my every move.
My mind jumps again … it tends to do that! It jumps to a song I sang in church as a kid. I can only remember the chorus, which is the words of Psalm 20 verse 7, and not the verses:
“Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God”.
I grab my bible again and turn to Psalm 20. I don’t get to verse 7 but stop after reading the first line:
May the Lord answer you when you are in distress.
I think of all who are in distress and pray that God would answer them. I am thankful that I can not only turn to God but that he is a God who answers. Answers even when we are in distress.
I return to silence and meditate on God’s unchanging character, his steadfast love.
My second alarm goes off, the alchemy on my duvet is broken, I get up, get ready, have breakfast and head for The Point.
The eastern sky brightens as the sun rises. My favourite tree in our park is still holding onto its leaves. The lollipop man, resplendent in his hi-vis, helps me cross the main road even though I don’t need his help. I say thank you for his kindness and service.
People in cars sit in traffic light queues, too many with phones in hand. Cyclists, start to bunch like a flock of strange prehistoric birds and merge onto the new cycle path on Queens Drive. They whizz by the stationary traffic, which brings a smile to my face.
The burnished leaves of the beech trees, the range of their colours, lifts my eyes from the traffic and path heavenward.
I thank God again for his goodness. I thank God for his never ceasing steadfast loyal love and his mercy which knows no limits or end.
Amazed at the beauty of the trees, some bare, some still with leaves, I contemplate the beauty of God’s great faithfulness.
The world spins, momentous events are happening in our world. Autumn is giving way to winter. A dog walker says hello, the flock of cyclists wait to cross a road.
I’ve made it to work: “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
Brodie