There has been a repeating phrase that has echoed in my heart over the last year and I believe it is important for many in this season. A sentence that brings hope, in a year that many have faced hardship like no year before.

For my family the last few months have been hard.

Walking through muddy, rising waters— hard.

Doing uncommon things— hard.

Trying to find the grace for growth— hard.

Even though it has been a time of many challenging tasks, I have also remembered the prayers of my youth and the faithfulness of a God who has answered them all. The funny thing about perspective, is often we don’t see the pressure that comes with the blessing. We forget the cost of the dream realised. We think of the possibility but forget the growth required for the context of the hopes aligned.

“And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so.  God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.”

—Genesis 1: 9-13

Over these months I have been reminded of the Creation account and the way God brought the world into being. I have found in my life that when I am faced with much opposition, it often means new land is being forged and the character required to walk upon its veldt. God moves in uncommon ways when we are blinded to the answers we desperately seek. God answers our calls for refuge and help. He does not play hide and seek, testing our patience by playing games. He draws us towards new land and often asks that we trust him for tomorrow.

In the town I live in, there has been an overwhelming need for housing and new land. As I sit here in my bedroom writing, I can see out onto the road my house sits upon. It is a very simple, ordinary street, in an small seaside town, however there is a small white car that I can see from my bedroom window. Living in that car, is a lady who has lost her home.

The economic crisis and the increase of inflation is just one of the pressures that many have face currently. There are wars and rumours of wars. Heartbreak, sickness and a rental crisis where the cost of living has escalated quickly.

In these times of challenge it is a great reminder to come back to simple things. We do not need mountains of clothes to survive, we do not need overflowing kitchens with gadgets. We do not need more shoes, technology or white goods. One of my favourite local pastimes is watching our free economy “buy nothing” facebook group and seeing our local community share what they have with each other.

Kindness changes communities.

We need each other.

A revolution of simplicity. A kindness that extends into our neighbourhood. A reminder that indeed God is good.

This season has also carried with it so many conversations where friends have lost their focus. What used to bring them joy, no longer has the same taste of satisfaction. An overstimulated society, overweight from opinions and disappointment. When we stay in a place where we no longer are fulfilling the purpose that brings our strengths to life, we become dissatisfied with the routine of the every day.

The phrase that has repeated over and over in my heart across the last year has been this: ” Look for New Land.” or just simple “Buy Land”. It is a phrase that doesn’t make sense when there is so much financial pressure and a lack of opportunities to in fact physically buy land. I do believe in the coming days however, many new opportunities with be available to those who sacrifice today’s harvest for the one that is to come. It reminds us that there are times for planting seeds and indeed times for harvesting the produce of that which is to come.

When we transition into new lands, with new opportunities, there is a deep sense of purpose that unveils in our hearts and lives. Bearing fruit for harvest in winter seasons can be contradictory. Genesis reminds us that producing fruit for the winter season, plants bearing seed, this is the cycle of the way God breathed life into our very planet. And He stopped, rested and said “It is good.”

There is a rhythm to the creation story. The night, the day, the rest and the reset.

Each June, I take time to look across my land. Remind myself of the promises I set at the beginning of the year. To take stock of that which is distracting me and to forgive myself of the things I didn’t mean to do, that have clouded my perspective.

The art of retreating and writing for clarity is one that came so easy when I had less responsibilities. I know though, that it is a balm for my restless soul. It is the way that emotions are processed and it reminds me to look for new land.

If you would like to join me in resetting this July, I am hosting a online workshop on Saturday the 13th: INFORMATION HERE. And please comment above, so I can hear what land is drawing you into its veldt (South African Bushland) this July.

We long for renewal, a posture that marks the rhythms of every single person. With the promises of new starts, the longing for change and the self-help movement that plagues our screens.

We all want to begin again.

Yet we loop.

We swing around the same habits, face the same dilemma, and sit at the end of the day asking, “How did this happen again?”

Psalm 51 is a stream-of-consciousness poem, a guttural cry of desperation from the same place we each cry from. David—albeit a King, a man of much responsibility and leadership, sat and penned a song of lament, asking God to remove the shame hindering his heart from moving forward.

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,
    scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.
Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
    set these once-broken bones to dancing.
Don’t look too close for blemishes,
    give me a clean bill of health.
God, make a fresh start in me,
    shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
Don’t throw me out with the trash,
    or fail to breathe holiness in me.
Bring me back from gray exile,
    put a fresh wind in my sails!
Give me a job teaching rebels your ways
    so the lost can find their way home.
Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,
    and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.
Unbutton my lips, dear God;
    I’ll let loose with your praise.

Psalm 51: 7-15 (the message)

If we were to take a little moment now for a reset, what would you like freedom from?

Can you write it down on a piece of paper?

Could you take a moment to free conscience write out all the parts of the recurring story that plague you.

Over the last month, I have been writing Psalm 51 with a heart-wrenching cry about the state of the church collectively. It has been a season of much change, transition and pain. Society has been searching for a plumbline amid economic crises, war, food insecurity, a pandemic and the difficulty experienced as our lives increasingly become marked by an online world.

What if we all experienced a Genesis Week: a fresh start?

Today, I want to bring us back to the beginning. The very beginning of creation and find a marker in the prose of the beginning of the world. Genesis.

God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Psalm 51

In the beginning, the very start of it all, there was darkness—an empty void, a place of nothingness that has been debated across the markers of time. As I reflect on this place of darkness, I am reminded that God created something, through light, that began the creation process for the beginnings of it all.

In these verses we are told that God commanded and light appeared. This was God’s first creative act. That is, the light came into existence when God commanded that it start to exist. The root Hebrew word for “light” in verse 3 is or and it means ” to be or become light, shine, to be bright or to illumine.” A survey of how this Hebrew word is used in different passages of the Old Testament reveals that the word is used sometimes to refer to God’s Shekinah glory. His presence. A healing glow that transforms darkness through love. The same God who spoke and light bounced through the atmosphere is the person who sits present in our darkest moments and brings light that transforms us once again.

At the beginning of this year, I sat and worked through a process of journaling questions. Gentle Rhythms came from a place where I knew we needed to emerge from a season of profound societal change slowly and softly.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness— only light.

During that day retreat, I started to use creative processing tools to leave behind the season passing better day; I drew a picture of myself as the creative retreat asked. I did not overthink it, I let the scribbles fall out easily on the page, as the subconscious self (our prophetic nature) is always speaking, it is whether we are able to slow down enough to let it express with clarity.

The drawing was so simple yet stark!

It was a woman, overweight, tired, exhausted, carrying many things under her arms, with mountains in the background and children in the foreground. A friend asked whether I had done that part of the process yet and I shared my vulnerable drawing with her and she said “That looks very heavy and exhausting!”

I have spent the last few years trying to do it in my own strength. The heaviness was pervading every part of my being. The darkness of grief, the complexity of change and the heartache of the season had burdened me deeply. It was in that simple moment a word whispered to me, that set the framework of my year. One simple word that I keep coming back to, as we step towards the middle of the year again.

Lighter

Can I carry it all lighter?

Can light transform the darkness that I carried inside?

Can God bring a genesis week from the chaos?

Genesis 1: 3-5

Day 1. God spoke: Light! And light appeared. (3-5)

I believe that the light that God promises in our darkest periods, will bring the transformation that we truly desire.

What needs to come out of darkness?

Today is an opportunity to bring what has been hidden, into a place of transparency. It could be starting a conversation that you have been avoiding. Maybe you could write a list of things that feel heavy and give them to God for transformation.

Let’s pray together …

God, I pray for anyone reading these words now and I ask for healing from the power of your Light. Bring your transformation power into the moments that we need your help. God, bring courage to have hard conversations. Bring hope where there is despair. Bring laughter from the broken places.

Amen