The River Flows

Can't believe I finally did it: Yesterday, I submitted my online application for graduate studies at one of the top universities in the world. Will be posting my supporting documents tomorrow.
What am I thinking? Me? There? Absototally mental.
But still, I did it. Yes, I did.
Am praying for the best possible results, and expecting the happiest outcome with total, irrational, illogical, childlike abandonment. As my sister-in-law says, use the Law of Attraction, think inspired thoughts, be positive, which is another way of saying, "Have expectant faith, blockhead!"
Get back to me next spring and I'll tell you where the River flows.

First Frost

We woke up this morning to see the first frost of the season covering the grass and the leaves in our garden. It reminded me of a short reflection I wrote for Antioch last spring, based on Heb 10: 19-23:

"Therefore, my friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful."

My Reflection:

"Will this winter never end?" I asked myself as I looked out the kitchen window early one frosty morning. It’s only been our second English winter, and while the sight of frost and snow still inspires excitement and open-mouthed awe in my tropically-oriented mind, a very deep and homesick part of me fervently longs for spring to come.

Then I saw it: A shaft of sunlight squeezing through a gap between our house and the shed onto our rear garden. Amidst the frost that lay heavily on the grass, there now was a strip of bright colour where the light had melted through the ice, thawing the frozen lawn with its warmth, splitting the gulf of drab grey with a defiant streak of vivid green. As though a path of life had been blazed across our frosty garden. As if spring had come early to that lucky patch of frozen grass.

And all of a sudden, a familiar voice spoke in my heart, and it hit me: This is what Jesus did for me. For all of us. He opened a “new and living way” for us out of the endless winter of our sin. He melted away the ice and snow, and He freed us from the bondage of eternal cold. The never-ending cold of being separated from Him, the only One Who could truly make us happy and complete.

He freed us. He saved us.

By His blood. By His sacrifice. By His love.

And as I stood there by the kitchen window, my heart was filled with overwhelming gratitude. I smiled at the melted patch of green and I thought, “That’s me. Thank You, Jesus, for saving me.”

Jesus, be our Eternal Spring, fill our waiting hearts with a deep longing for You. Melt away the frost in our hearts, wash us clean with Your precious blood. Keep our hearts true and allow us to come to you freely, willingly, daily, with confidence in Your constant mercy, forgiveness and faithfulness. Keep us warm in the light of Your saving love, and fill us with zeal to bring Your Eternal Spring to all around us.