Holding Onto Hope During Life’s Drizzles
Oh, the weather in Wales can be as unpredictable as my fibromyalgia! For the month of October, we are dog-sitting for some friends, which means there are two dogs underfoot, two dogs to feed, two dogs to walk, and two doggie schedules to work around. Well, today, Jason is working at the Community Luncheon Club, which leaves me on dog duty for the day. I had resigned to the fact that I was not likely going to get much accomplished, but I was leery about how and when to do our daily walk. That brings me to the Welsh weather.
The entire morning has been drizzly, so I knew it would likely be a wet walk. Still, I was hopeful.
A Funeral Wake-Up Call
Last week, I attended my first funeral in Wales, and despite being warned of what to expect, I walked out of the chapel feeling utterly devastated. The experience left me with a heaviness I hadn't anticipated.
I understand that funerals are occasions of sadness and mourning, and for that reason, I typically avoid them as much as possible. But this one affected me differently than I expected. What saddened me most? Was it the crowd of people waiting outside the chapel, not because there wasn't room but rather because they refused to step foot inside the actual building? Or was it the minister who presented the message that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God; therefore, we can rejoice that we will all be reunited in Heaven?
No wonder it's so difficult to reach these people with the gospel!
Are You a Bummer Lamb?
I was watching an interview with Christian author Sheila Walsh the other day when she began talking about "bummer lambs." Having lived in rural Wales for a few years, I've learned quite a bit about sheep farming, but this particular term was new to me.
A bummer lamb, as it turns out, is a lamb that has been rejected by its mother. Sometimes, the ewe has twins and can only feed one. Sometimes, the mother dies during birth. And sometimes, for reasons only the sheep know, a mother simply refuses to accept her baby.
When this happens, the shepherd steps in. He takes the rejected lamb into his home and hand-feeds it. He keeps it warm by the fire, wraps it in blankets, and tends to its every need. The shepherd essentially becomes the lamb's parent, giving extraordinary care and attention to this tiny creature.
Religion Vs. Relationship
As we minister in mid-Wales, we're discovering a heartbreaking trend that has emptied many chapels across this beautiful country—religion itself.
I can't tell you how many adults have shared nearly identical stories with us. As children, they were bundled off to church or chapel every Sunday without explanation, marched down the aisle in uncomfortable clothes, and told to sit still and be quiet. They memorized prayers and recited responses without understanding why. They were taught how to act but never why it mattered.
"We just did it because we had to," one elderly gentleman told me, his weathered face creasing with the memory. "Mam would've had our hides if we'd refused."
Church services were as dry as month-old scones—formal, repetitive, and utterly devoid of life. The ministers droned on about the stories of the Bible without ever bringing about an application to the people or helping them understand how and why the Bible is still relevant today.
Beauty and Bands
As I mentioned before, with our upcoming ladies' meetings on the horizon, I've been knee-deep in fairy tale themes and decorations. I confess that even during my quiet time with the Lord this morning, my mind was still swirling with images of glass slippers and enchanted roses. So when I opened my Bible to Zechariah 11 and read about Beauty and Bands, I couldn't help but smile at God's sense of humor.
"And I took unto me two staves; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the flock." (Zechariah 11:7)
Beauty and Bands. It immediately transported me to the beloved tale of Beauty and the Beast. You know the story—a beautiful young woman, a cursed prince, a magical rose, and the power of true love. But as I continued reading, I realized God wasn't telling me a fairy tale. He was revealing something far more profound.