Toggling thoughts on Wednesday evening

I toggle back and forth between the BBC news pages about the new lockdown – 'Lockdown 2.0' – in the UK, the incoming results of the US Presidential election, and the World news section. There I read about terrorist shootings in Austria, school shootings in Cameroon, violence in Mozambique and Ethiopia, gold-smuggling and money-laundering in Zimbabwe and South Africa... a veritable flood of every kind of human corruption and violence, the whole world over. Ugly words, ugly actions, ugly hearts, bubbling up and threatening to overwhelm any remnant of order, goodness and peace. The plight of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh. Darkness and suffering, displacement and destitution, abuse of power and the violence that follows inevitably from political and social unrest. Tropical Storm Eta 'battering' Central America. Even the natural world is in turmoil, rising up in a literal whirlwind which mirrors the restless and destructive impulses of the human lives on this teeming planet.

I read a poem by Wendell Berry – 'The Peace of Wild Things'. I think about the natural world and how just being outside in the fresh autumn air, drinking in the colours of the leaves and sky, has revived me today. I browse adverts for woollen blankets and scarves and think about which one I'd like for Christmas. Is there anything more comforting than a tartan woollen blanket?! In a moment I'll get up from my comfy sofa, wander through to the fairy light bedecked kitchen, and make a hot cup of tea. Jonny will trail downstairs after settling the children in bed and collapse tiredly after a long day. Comforts big and small abound in my life and in this home.

Even the prospect of Lockdown 2.0 doesn't feel so bleak as I thought it might. We've done this before. The restrictions aren't so great as last time. The kids will still be in school. I can still rely on friendly chats each day with other parents at the school gate. The real sting for our family is the restriction on churches meeting for worship. We long to be free to fellowship and worship with our Christian brothers and sisters. It feels like a lifeline has been cut. Have we taken our previous freedoms for granted? Most certainly. Even in a non-Covid world, Christian believers in China, in Iran, and in many other places, are prevented from meeting together to worship as Christians. They are persecuted, imprisoned and put to death.They are my brothers and sisters too.

In the midst of my toggling (I'm enjoying that word), I pull up Psalm 46 on biblegateway.com. I click back and forth, between the turmoil in the world, the literal roaring and foaming waters of the earth, the raging nations, the kingdoms which seem to be tottering, the wars waged all around us, and our own troubled hearts. This Psalm mentions them all. Literally mentions them all. How does God do that?! It's like He made us and knows us, and more than that, knows our plight, knows the terrors and the trouble and raging and the violence of this dark world. It's like He knows. And He speaks into it. He has something to say.

More than that, I'm overwhelmed to remember as I read, that right in the middle of the Psalm, lies a shining picture of the church. Not the building at the end of the road with a steeple and Monday morning toddler group. The church, as in, God's people, worldwide, His beloved children. There it is – the Bible calls it 'the city of God'. The church – God's 'city', God's people – is where God lives. And there is a river bringing life to this shining city, running right through it, sustaining it, refreshing it. That would be Jesus. It's always Jesus.

My strength isn't in crisp Autumn days, comforting woollen blankets, the warmth and love of home and family. These things are a refuge, a temporary oasis of peace and a true gift from above. But really, my home is that shining city of God. God is the strength of all those who belong to that city. He is our refuge in the darkness and the trouble and the corruption. He is our fortress in the midst of violence, grief and war. He is the rest for our own troubled hearts. Jesus is the river whose streams make us glad.

Don't you want a refuge from the trouble? Don't you want strength for the day? God as your fortress, your protection against evil, your saviour from the wickedness which runs rampant in our own hearts and spills out into the world creating chaos and despair? Because the wickedness 'out there' is really just showing us the state of our own hearts. But maybe that's a thought to continue on another day.

Here's the Psalm.

Psalm 46

To the choirmaster. Of the Sons of Korah. According to Alamoth. A song.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,

though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High,

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The LORD of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Come, behold the works of the LORD,

how he has brought desolations on the earth.

He makes wars to cease to the end of the earth;

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the chariots with fire.

“Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!”

The LORD of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Amen.