This is one of my favourite songs at the moment by one of my favourite songwriters. Check him out – Andrew Peterson.

We chose the spot, we dug the hole
We laid the maples in the ground to have and hold
As Autumn falls to Winters sleep
We pray that somehow in the Spring
The roots grow deep

And many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn

He took a plane to Africa
He gathered up into his arms
An orphan son

So many years from now
Long after we are gone
This tree will spread its branches out
And bless the dawn

So sit down and write that letter
Sign up and join the fight
Sink in to all that matters
Step out into the light
Let go of all that’s passing
Lift up the least of these
Lean into something lasting
Planting trees

She rises up as morning breaks
She moves among these rooms alone
Before we wake
And her heart is so full; it overflows
She waters us with love and the children grow

So many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless someone

I missed my blog yesterday. Hmm. I was going to catch up, but I figured I didn’t have enough valuable things to write two blogs in one day. So consider this Thursday’s and Friday’s combined. (Anyway, you can miss Sundays during Lent, so this can count as my midweek Sunday.)

There’s been a lot of chaos in the world the last few weeks. Japan. Libya. Bahrain. Egypt. Tunisia. It’s been impossible to turn on a TV, read a paper or browse the internet without being confront with these disasters, either man-made of natural.

It can be hard to know what to think, do or say.

At times like this, I think it’s helpful to cling onto some fundamental truth. Psalm 24 v.1:

“The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world and all who live in it.”

No matter what is happening, that is truth worth clinging to.

Dawn isn’t a time a lot people see very often. It’s also not a time that people tend to look forward to. Because of my job, I’ve had to be up before dawn a lot lately. If I’m honest, it’s pretty early. When I get up it’s dark, it’s bleak and it’s cold. There’s not a lot going on outside – the birds aren’t up yet, and the majority of people are still asleep.

Then this amazing event happens. Slowly, a touch of light appears in the sky. It’s the smallest of glimmers, but it’s a sign of what is on the way. Without any warning, the sky is suddenly filled with reds, oranges and pinks. It’s amazing, and never fails to attract my attention.

I like to think of if of God’s way of drawing back the curtains on a new day, revealing a clean slate for us. It’s a timely, beautiful reminder.

This is yesterday’s (15th March) blog and yes, I know, it’s a little late. But I think it still counts.

At Bible study last night, we were looking at Hebrews 6. I was leading the study, and found it a really tough piece of Scripture to get to grips with. I found it particularly challenging that the author says in vv.4-7 that it is ‘impossible’ (seems to be a similar word in most translations) for those who have slipped away to come back to repentance with God.

That’s a pretty strong statement, and one that I think we can’t simply dismiss.  I don’t know how literally to take this verse; reading around, it seems that most theologians don’t quite know either. But there’s a lot of things to think of there. If anyone has any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

I’ve always been fairly fortunate (blessed I suppose) in that I’ve always been in places where I’m either surrounded by other Christians, or around people who respect my faith or are curious in it. This has been great, but also meant I’ve led somewhat of a sheltered existence.

Where I work now, however, is very much not that sort of place. It’s a high pressure, tension filled environment and there’s a strong culture of looking out for yourself and no-one else, and not being worried about other people’s feelings if it benefits you.

I’ve been really challenged by this, and by the challenge that we are set to be the light of the world in all we do. I’m realising that that challenge can be really difficult in a place where there is a lot of pressure to do anything but that. But I think it’s a good challenge, and a good opportunity for me to grow and be challenged.

Long may it continue, with God’s support.

Lord of all the earth we shout Your name, shout Your name
Filling up the skies with endless praise, endless praise
Yahweh Yahweh, we love to shout Your name oh Lord

At Your name, the morning breaks in glory
At Your name, creations sings Your story
At Your name angels will bow
The earth will rejoice, Your people cry out

There is no-one like our God, we will praise You, praise You
There is no-one like our God, we will sing
There is no-one like our God, we will praise You, praise You
Jesus is our God, we will sing

c Tim Hughes and Phil Wickham 2010

We had a friend over tonight, and spent a good portion of the evening discussing worship. It was a great conversation, with no real answers, which is probably a good thing.

There’s so much to worship, so much we don’t understand and so much to learn. But it’s great to talk about it and to bounce ideas around.

Maybe these conversations shouldn’t be one off things but regular events, times when we gather together and discuss our walks with God and how to uplift and encourage one another. Perhaps that’s a sign of genuine community.

I knew what I was going to blog about when I walked into work at 6.30am this morning. On the way in I’d heard a few reports through Twitter that something had happened, but as I looked at the screens first thing this morning, I knew that Japan was in trouble.

Japan is a country used to earthquakes, if you can be used to such a thing. Although it will surely go up, the death toll is mercifully low at the moment for an earthquake that’s the seventh strongest since records began. This doesn’t mean that this isn’t a tragedy, however. Just looking at the pictures, it is hard to take it in.

Dirty water flooding over fields, pushing buildings aside.

Whirlpools in the sea, with boats dotted around them slowly being sucked in.

Pictures of buildings shaking.

Oil refineries exploding.

People terrified.

It was heartening to see the #prayforjapan hashtag appear on Twitter almost immediately. It’s currently number two on my trending topics, below a sponsored item (that alone says a lot about the state of our world).

We need to keep praying though. The tsunami that has formed as a result of the earthquake is still on the move and, although it has not done any more serious damage, it could still wreak havoc.

Lord, be with the people of Japan. Comfort them, protect them, support them and uphold them. Be watching over all those places where the tsunami might hit, and guide people to safety. This is out of our control, but within Yours. Amen.

It’s been almost two months since I last blogged here. Whilst the break wasn’t a conscious effort on my part, perhaps it happened naturally for a reason. I don’t really know. But I do know I’ve missed it. I’ve missed having the space to write my thoughts, missed having the space to say things that are in my mind. I find it useful to be able to do those things. Therapeutic almost.

We’ve just started Lent (yesterday was Ash Wednesday). During this season, Christians are encouraged to either give something up or take something on, to remind them of the sacrifices of Jesus and to mark the run-up to Easter. In the Spirit of that, I’ve decided to try to write a blog every day for Lent.

This may well fail. I can see it being a good idea now, only to become less of a good idea a week in. I’m prepared for that. I’m also not trying to claim that this is some super-spiritual movement I’m making. Whilst I hope it will be a useful exercise, I can’t guarantee it.

But I feel it will be a good thing to do. Some days might be short, some might be long. We’ll see. I think, however, that when I get to the end of Lent, something valuable will have come out of the process. I pray it will.

Here we go.

I didn’t blog over Christmas. I felt I needed a break. And honestly, I had nothing really to say, which is fine. So rather than write something for the sake of it, I just kept quiet. Ecclesiastes 5.2 and all.

There’s been something on my mind lately, however. In Christian circles these days, there’s a lot of talk of ‘complete’ and ‘incomplete’ theology. Some prominent Christians are said to have complete theologies, others are said to have incomplete theologies. And whilst I know what is meant by these statements, I wonder sometimes what they really mean.

The picture above is one that is commonly used to depict the Trinity. It’s quite effective, because it’s three sections all linked together, which is like the Trinity. However, it is incomplete. Because it is not God. There is nothing we have that is a perfect example of the Trinity, except the Trinity. I like that, because it means that we can’t fully comprehend God and compartmentalise Him down to small, world-friendly chunks.

So whilst I understand what is meant by complete and incomplete theologies, I wonder if there is such a thing as a complete theology. I’m not trying to suggest some people are right, and others wrong. I’m also very keen to ensure that the church has an accurate, Scriptural theology.

I just wonder if the terminology is helpful. Maybe it is. I just wonder, that’s all.