It is December this week, and I see it hurtling towards me. I feel inside that tensing and bracing, getting ready for the oncoming onslaught of busy.
This happens every year.
Every year, I fight it. The busy that December brings.
And, every year, I lose.
This one is for those of you who have a dream in your heart, a tentative fragile dream, but the fear is killing it. The fear is bigger and stronger than that dream right now and so your dream, that fragile little shoot is not getting the light it needs, or the food it needs to grow.
What is noble anyway?
It is a word that we rarely use in conversation nowadays. It is a term that we associate with old-fashioned class distinctions, or on occasion we might refer to a “noble pursuit”.
The words in the dictionary to define noble are words like:
special status; high moral qualities; dignity; eminence; magnificent; superior; excellent.
It denotes a sense of higher.
The verse in Philippians 4 asks us to think on “… whatever is noble …”
What does it mean to think about higher things?
On Saturday, I had the opportunity to attend a gather and grow with Amanda Viviers. An introverted group of writers gathered around the table. All of us came with no clue if we knew anyone or not. All of us came with a desire to learn and an open heart to growth. And so this reticent group slowly and quietly aired their questions, and shared their fragile dreams.
And I came away thinking. “Yes! This is what it is about”.
… whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. (Philippians 4:8)
I love this verse in Philippians. It is absolutely one of my favourites. And with the huge amount of negativity, pain and heartache that is in the world today. I feel a real need to sink into this verse for a while. So I am going to do a few posts on this over the next month or so. Starting with “whatever is true”, today.
So I broke my promise. The one I made, when I said I was going to write every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the end of the year. I didn’t post on Monday this week. I couldn’t. I was overwhelmed by the voices on social media, hard, unforgiving, strident, graceless.
In December 1995 I travelled to Paris and studied the French language intensively there for three months. It is a city I have always held dear to my heart.
I have spent the bulk of this morning on the beach with the extended family. Watching my girls and their cousins, their grandparents, their aunties and uncles. We have been swimming, and building sand castles, enjoying the sun and the freedom.
On the other side of the world people are frantically trying to find out if their loved ones are ok. They are trying desperately to get home in a city where transport has been halted for a while. They are trying to comprehend the horror of what has befallen them.
Me too, I am trying to understand why? And other questions arise with that.