I hardly touched vegetables for the first twenty years of my life. I occasionally ate carrots or peas soaked in gravy or hidden in a mound of mashed potato, but that was my limit. If my mother tried introducing cabbage or broccoli, I turned my nose up in horror.

I enjoy most veg now, apart from sprouts and mushrooms. I credit this to the maturing of my palette, and to my friend Anne, who challenged me when I said I didn’t eat veg by asking when I’d last tried it. I gave in and haven’t looked back since.

Life must be pretty boring for those with a restricted diet, either for medical reasons or out of choice or fussiness. Most people relish chocolate and cake, but we can’t eat it all the time. There are different food groups, all of which are important. We need a balance of carbs, fats, vitamins, minerals, fibre, etc.

Today, as we enjoyed a rare treat of winter sunshine, my husband and I talked about the Word of God and how it is food for our souls. I have read the Bible through once a year at least ten times, but this year, I’ve noticed it’s grown a little stale. It feels wrong even to admit that, but I believe in honesty, both with one another and with God.

Last week, I attended a wonderful evening of worship and prophecy. A man prayed for me and shared words from the Lord. They were so apt that I knew Jesus was in the room. He said, “The Lord wants you to know he realises you’re struggling to read your Bible. He understands you’re going through the motions. He wants to remind you his Word is your daily bread, and you need it every day.”

Rather than conviction, I felt loved and understood. However, I sensed God was urging me to change my method of Bible reading. After much prayer, I have a new plan for 2025. Perhaps I’ll share more in the new year so you can accompany me on my new journey.

When Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness to turn stones into bread, he replied by quoting the Old Testament. “It is written, man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4 ESV) If Jesus needed the word as food, then how much more do we?

Some parts of the Bible are easy to digest. The Psalms bring us comfort during troubling times. They allow us to pour out our souls to God and give us the words to ask for help. The Gospels are all about Jesus. Who doesn’t love reading about his miracles and the wisdom he taught? Acts is exciting, but Paul’s letters can be difficult to understand, and some of the Old Testament is heavy-going. The prophetic books can feel depressing with their forecasts of gloom and doom, and Leviticus contains laws we struggle to understand. The early part of Numbers is full of long lists of … well, numbers!

Just as we need a balanced diet of food to be healthy, we also need a balanced diet of scripture. It does us good to read the harder books. Sometimes it helps to switch to a different version, to look for a study guide, or to read and discuss with friends.

Remember, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2Timothy 3:16-17 NIV). So enjoy the chocolate and cake by all means, but remember to eat your greens.

Kelly’s life had revolved around her family’s bakery for as long as she could remember. As the eldest child, her career-path was set. Kelly would continue the long-held Henderson tradition of supplying their village with quality bread and cakes.

“It will be yours one day,” her father loved to say, and she always pasted on a smile of gratitude. Kelly sensed his longing for closeness. He still visited the bakery every day, even though he had retired after her mother’s death. He asked probing questions designed to draw her out, but she always cut him off, declaring herself too busy for chatter.

The clock struck three, and Kelly let out an involuntary sigh. If she stepped outside, she would find her father sitting at the shelter, where he waited every day for the bus from the nearest town, hoping against hope for a glimpse of a familiar blonde head. But would he even recognise Cynthia after a ten-year absence? Surely time had changed her, too.

The very thought of Cynthia made Kelly clench her teeth and pound the dough even harder. Cynthia–the family’s blonde beauty, the petted, long-awaited second child, who went outside to romp with her friends while Kelly learned to bake alongside their mother. Cynthia held her responsibilities loosely. She had proven that when their father sold the family home soon after their mother’s death. Rather than staying to support him in his move to the retirement village, the younger daughter requested her share of the family inheritance, then promptly disappeared without a trace.

It was Kelly who cared for their dad, cleaning his home and supplying him with healthy meals whilst slaving away at the bakery. Her father praised his responsible eldest child, but all Kelly thought about was the way he sat at the bus stop, believing that surely, one day, Cynthia would return. So his words of affirmation sailed over her head as she gritted her teeth, doing her duty.

Kelly was suddenly alerted by sounds from outside. The bus had arrived with an extra buzz of excitement. She heard her father’s raised voice, and she realised he was weeping.

Instantly, she burst out onto the street. Had someone attacked him? Had he fallen? The sight that greeted her rooted Kelly to the spot. She stared open-mouthed at her generally calm and collected father clinging to a bedraggled-looking blonde woman in a shabby coat with ripped and faded jeans. The newcomer cried too, her sobs outdoing those of the man who held her.

“It can’t be!” Kelly didn’t want to believe what she saw, but a triumphant cry from her father confirmed the impossible.

“Cynthia! Oh, Cynthia! You’ve come home at last!”

Cynthia was speaking, but their father kept silencing her with outbursts of love and joy while Kelly’s insides seethed. The golden girl was back, and she had been forgotten. After ten years without a letter or card, ten years during which they didn’t know whether she was dead or alive, Cynthia had waltzed back into their lives, and their father was welcoming her with open arms. Had he forgotten his anguished tears the day she left, or the money he’d squandered trying to find her?

Kelly longed to hide, but there was nowhere to run. Her father led Cynthia into the bakery, enthusing that her sister would be so happy to see her, and Kelly nodded in the right places.

Kelly greeted Cynthia with all the cordiality she could muster, then listened as her sister poured out her sob story. She had squandered her inheritance, only coming to her senses when it was too late and she was left mucking out pigs on a farm. Kelly gave a sly smile of satisfaction over that because Cynthia detested anything dirty or smelly.

Cynthia begged their father for the most menial task. She had given up her right to inherit, but she would scrub and clean, or even work the night shift. Yet their father heard none of it, such was his joy over the return of his youngest daughter. He talked of throwing a party, of calling the whole family to a celebration, but the bitterness, anger and resentment inside Kelly grew until it threatened to burst out of her chest.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She slammed her way into the storeroom, convinced he wouldn’t even notice she was gone. But moments later, her father joined her. He switched on the light, exposing her bitter tears.

“Are you okay, Kelly?”

That was all the opening she needed for her angry words to spew out. A lifetime of bitterness and frustration could no longer be contained, so she let him have it.

“All these years, I’ve looked after you, running this bakery without a word of complaint, but you’ve never even thrown me a birthday party. And now, my sister, who squandered everything you gave her, is being celebrated because she finally realised she can’t live without us! It’s not fair!” She knew she sounded like a petulant two-year-old, but Kelly was past caring. She huddled against the back wall of the storeroom, crying bitter tears.

Slowly, her father walked towards her, put his hands on either side of her face, and tilted her chin until she had no choice but to look at him. His words were firm, but there was no hiding the love in his eyes.

“My darling Kelly, you have always been my comfort and joy. You’ve been a faithful and dutiful daughter, and one day, everything that’s left will belong to you. But we need to celebrate. We didn’t even know whether Cynthia was still alive, but now she’s back where she belongs. She was lost, but she’s been found. Surely that’s worth a party.”

I wonder what they thought as the east wind blew, and the water piled up into walls with a path through the middle. As the first community members stepped out, did they look up at the water with fear, knowing it could pour back down and crush them in seconds? Did some have to be coaxed or pushed? Whatever their feelings, they made it safely to the other side, and when their enemies tried to follow, God firstly hampered them, then drowned them as the waters returned to their customary place.

Have you ever had a Red Sea experience? You felt trapped, with danger and fears, before and behind. Then suddenly, God made a way where there seemed to be no way. He parted the waters and smashed down the barriers. He split the sea so you could walk right through it unscathed. And the troubles that threatened to follow you were drowned by the power of his almighty love. What a miracle! What a Saviour! You danced and sang for joy, just as the Israelites did when they came out of the sea.

Next, let’s turn our attention to a second rescue story, again involving water. God’s children were about to enter the promised land, but they had a river to cross. It was the Jordan, and we’re told it was in full flood. Not as scary as the Red Sea, perhaps, but still beyond our average human capabilities.

This time, the people had Levitical priests and the Ark of the Covenant, symbolising God’s presence among them. Moses was dead, and God wanted to establish Joshua as their new leader. He needed to prove he was with him, just as he had been with Moses. So the priests carrying the Ark were told to enter the water first, and Joshua promised that as soon as their feet touched the water, the flow would be cut off upstream, and the river would stand up like a wall.

On this occasion, the priests had to step into the river. An act of obedience would prompt God’s miraculous response, but once again, his people would pass through safely to the other side. This reminds me of seasons during which waiting for God’s solution to a problem has involved taking a step of faith. Yet, one baby step from me was greeted by giant leaps from him. All the priests had to do was step off the riverbank, but God stopped the flow of the river.

Finally, let’s consider one more Bible story involving water. However, this one is very different. It’s in the New Testament, it involves Jesus himself, and it includes one of the greatest leaps of faith recorded in Scripture.

In Matthew 14, we find Jesus’ disciples in a boat on a lake. Jesus isn’t with them, because he is still dismissing the crowds following the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand. I can picture the disciples eagerly discussing that day’s events. How jubilant they must have been. Yet excitement soon turned to fear when a strong wind rose, forcing them to fight heavy waves. They were seasoned fishermen, but this storm was beyond their capabilities. Then, about three o’clock in the morning, they saw something that almost finished them off! Someone was walking towards them on the water. Surely, it was a ghost! But as soon as he spoke, they knew it was Jesus. “Don’t be afraid. Take courage. I am here.” Matthew 14:27 NLT.)

The twelve men were accustomed to Jesus doing strange things, but they’d never seen anything like this! However, ever the courageous one, peter called out, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.” (Matthew 14: 28 NLT). Was he testing Jesus? Whatever his motives, I’m sure Peter was gobsmacked when Jesus answered his request in the affirmative. So over the edge of the boat he went, and amazingly, peter started walking on the water towards Jesus. How did the other disciples feel when they saw this? How did Peter feel?

Sadly, we know the answer to my second question, because verse 30 tells us that when peter saw the wind and the waves, he was terrified, and he began to sink. Before we are tempted to criticise peter, let’s imagine ourselves in his place. We are doing something that is humanly impossible. We are walking on water. Not treading water but walking on-top of it as if we’re taking a casual stroll down the road. Wouldn’t our logical brains start working in overdrive, just as peter’s did, reminding us of all the reasons this isn’t possible? People don’t walk on water. And this water isn’t even calm. It’s choppy, and there’s a strong wind blowing that threatens to knock us off our feet. We can feel it stinging our faces as it whips up the water, cascading it over our heads in a fury of spray. This is crazy! It can’t be happening! We’re going to drown! And so we do.

However, with us, as with peter, Jesus is always there to rescue. He knows our faith is weak, and he knows we doubt him. He wishes we wouldn’t, but he understands why we do. So he takes hold of us and helps us back into the safety of the boat. Then, he calms the storm, and guides us safely to the shore.

Unlike some, I am less inclined to criticise peter for his fears, and more eager to applaud him for having the courage to step out of the boat and try. How far did he walk before fear overtook him? We don’t know, but he must have taken a few steps. For however short a time, peter was doing the impossible. By trusting in Jesus, he broke all the laws of gravity that tell us water isn’t solid, so you can’t walk on it. peter’s journey with Jesus was just beginning, so he still had many lessons to learn. His faith grew with every step, and sometimes even with every failure, like when he publicly denied Jesus on the night he was betrayed.

I don’t know where you are in your faith journey. Perhaps you are rejoicing after a red sea or Jordan river crossing. God has shown his power in miraculous ways. Or maybe, like me, you are berating yourself for mistakes and your lack of faith. Jesus called you to come to him walking on the water, and you took the first step, but the second was harder, and the third felt impossible. So you cried out, and our ever-loving Jesus rescued you with reassurances of love and safety. If that’s where you are, please don’t beat yourself up. Maybe the next time, you’ll take a few more steps. Maybe you’ll even make it all the way. Water walking is hard, but Peter’s struggles weren’t the end of his road, and ours won’t be either.

I want to be someone who walks on the water, yet all too often I cling to the boat. I like the comfort the familiar offers. I don’t like change, or anything that feels unnerving. Writing my first novel, Just Benny, was a bit like walking through the Red Sea on dry ground. Walls of fear piled up on either side, telling me why I shouldn’t be drafting a book. I didn’t know what I was doing. Would anyone ever want to read it? But I took one step at a time, with Jesus guiding me all the way. There were moments when I literally felt him dictating parts of the manuscript into my mind. Publishing the book was more like stepping into the Jordan River because I had to take certain risks in order to make it happen, but God met me there too. He stopped the flow of the river, and once again, I walked through on dry ground. However, with this second book, I literally feel as though I am walking on the water, and sometimes, I long to return to the safety of the boat. It wouldn’t matter if I never wrote a sequel. I could do other, safer things. No one would mind. Wasn’t it enough of an achievement to publish one novel? Well, the answer is yes, it was, and I am still amazed at what God enabled me to do, but now he is stretching me. He wants me to go further. Rather than clearing the way before me, he wants me to get up and walk on the water. He wants me to do what feels impossible. And so, I will walk on, often in fear and trembling. Sometimes, I take a break and return to the safety of the boat, where Jesus welcomes me with a warm cup of tea and a place to rest. But then he urges me to step out again and write a bit more. It’s a slower journey than the first book because it feels more intense, but every time I want to quit, he reminds me I am still at the centre of his will.

I pray that if God calls you to walk on water in 2024, you will have the courage to step forth, and if, like me, you sometimes retreat in fear, you will know that with Jesus, you can always begin again. The same peter who felt himself drowning when he saw the wind and the waves stood up on the day of Pentecost and preached one of the most powerful sermons ever recorded. He raised a dead woman, healed the sick, and responded to a vision that birthed the gentile church. So be encouraged, fix your gaze upon Jesus, and take the next step.

This year, the song that’s jumping out at me is the Advent Hymn, and the lines I wake up with most mornings are, “So here I wait in hope of you, my soul’s longing through and through.” The ‘You’ referred to here is Jesus. The song points to the theme of advent–the idea of waiting that has been lost over the years in a church calendar rushing headlong into the joy of celebrating Christmas. It’s good to rejoice, because the birth of Jesus was amazing and miraculous, but it came after centuries of waiting.

In the garden of Eden, Adam and Eve broke God’s only commandment not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and their choice gave sin a gateway into God’s perfect world. Once it gained a foothold, it grew into a stronghold, then a stranglehold, because sin is like cancer. When left untreated, it grows. But God’s plan couldn’t be accomplished right-away. So he wove his story through history, down the generations, starting with Adam, and ending with Joseph, Mary, and the feeble cries of a divine newborn infant. What a miracle! What joy! No wonder we celebrate his birth.

Like the Israelites longing for their promised messiah, we seem to spend endless seasons waiting. Often, we focus solely on the outcome, so we miss what God is doing in the meantime. And when the promise comes, do we recognise it? The Jews didn’t expect their messiah to come as a baby. They probably had grand ideas about him arriving as a conquering king to rescue them from Roman tyranny. So they missed the miracle, and many still wait for a messiah who has already come. However, before we criticize, let’s pause and ask, do we do that? In our waiting seasons, are we so focused on the specific ways our desire should be presented that we miss it when it actually comes? And do we grow impatient like children at Christmas, resenting God because of unanswered prayers?

“Here I wait in hope of you, my soul’s longing through and through.” What are you longing for this Christmas? Jesus knows, and he sees the answer even if you don’t. So enjoy him in the waiting. Don’t fixate on the specifics while ignoring the gifts Jesus has for you right now. Every new day is a gift offering us opportunities to get to know him more. Children everywhere have their hearts set on their Christmas lists. Yet, once the gifts are torn open and the wrapping paper is cleared away, they might enjoy those shiny new toys for a while, but they’ll soon get bored and turn their attention to something else. Next year will roll around, bringing the impatient anticipation of something new.

I am learning to appreciate advent because of the waiting, and I don’t want to rush into the Christmas celebrations. I try to pause each day and focus on Jesus’s voice, and I’m discovering that the more I listen, the more he speaks. Whatever you hope for during this festive season, I pray that your soul will long for Jesus, because he never loses his shine, and his love and nearness will be ever green during the dreary months of January and February, just as it is now in the glitter and excitement of December.

At Christmastime, we focus on the baby in the manger, the shepherds, wise men, and the angels singing “Glory in the Highest!” However, many people do not understand the significance of the events that culminated in this most holy night.

In the Jesse Tree Anthology, twenty-five authors collaborate to tell the story of the ancestry of Jesus. Starting with creation and the fall, they lead us through the various incidences and prophecies that prepared for his birth. Each writer has their own unique style, but there is a wonderful sense of unity due to the clear guidelines and prayerful editing given by Rachel Yarworth who headed up the project.

This family-friendly advent devotional contains short reflections, questions to ponder and discuss, prayers, and templates for ornaments to hang on your very own Jesse Tree. These can also be downloaded from Rachel’s website.

As one of the proud contributing authors listed in this book, I can highly recommend the Jesse Tree Anthology, and I pray it will bless individuals and families for many years to come.

Verse 10 says peter was hungry, and a meal was being prepared. Intense hunger does strange things to the human mind. I’m sure you can relate. Have you ever been stuck in a traffic jam with your stomach rumbling, conjuring up visions of mouth-watering culinary delights? You might start with something specific. A juicy steak, or a home-cooked roast swimming in rich gravy. But eventually, you reach a point where literally anything will do. You become desperate and irritable, but you’re in the middle of nowhere, and you haven’t seen a shop for hours. You vow that you’ll stop at the first convenience store for a bar of chocolate and a packet of crisps. You know you should make healthier choices, but who cares? You’ve just got to have something!

Did peter presume his vision of forbidden food was a temptation in response to his hunger? Hadn’t the self-same thing happened to Jesus when Satan came to him during his forty-day wilderness fast, tempting him to turn stones into bread? Peter had heard the words, “Do not call something unclean if God has made it clean,” but he knew Satan had twisted the scriptures with Jesus, so was he up to his old tricks again? The vision came while peter was praying, so was it a distraction, sent to shift his focus? I can picture him pacing the flat roof, rebuking the enemy, and forcing his mind back to holier things.

However, peter’s vision refused to go away. It came a second, then a third time. I bet by this point it was driving him crazy! His stomach thundered, and all he could think about was food. Verse 17 informs us that Peter was very perplexed. That’s probably an understatement! Perplexed, confused, frustrated… I’d be all the above and more! If this happened to me, I might even be tempted to vent my frustrations. “I’m trying to pray here, Lord–to do the things you’ve taught me! I’ve rebuked this vision until I’m blue in the face, but it’s not going away!”

When did Peter dare to wonder whether his conundrum was a message from God, rather than a tool of the enemy? Was it when men arrived looking for him from the house of a devout, god-fearing Roman officer called Cornelius, who had received a confusing Word from the Lord to send to Joppa for a man he’d never met?

Both Peter and Cornelius held pieces of the puzzle, but neither of them saw the full picture. This often happens to us when we receive words, pictures, or visions from the almighty. At first, they may seem confusing and contradictory, so we question whether they are really from God. We look for signs or Scriptures, tempted to dismiss them because if we are wrong, we might offend God or go against his will. WE fear the Old Testament warnings about false prophets and those who seek to lead others astray. We don’t want to be part of that camp, so it’s easier to stifle our visions and keep quiet.

Imagine what would have happened if either Peter or Cornelius had done this. Cornelius wouldn’t have sent for peter, and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the gentiles might have been delayed. Up on the roof, God said three men were waiting, and when Peter went downstairs, there they were. Yet all they could add to his growing confusion was the fact that Cornelius needed to hear peter’s message. Another clue, but the meaning remained incomplete.

As a gentile, I’m so glad peter trusted God’s vision and visited Cornelius. In verse 28, he said, “You know it is against our laws for a Jewish man to enter a Gentile home like this or to associate with you. But God has shown me that I should no longer think of anyone as impure or unclean.” Peter was learning to broaden his thinking, and as he and Cornelius talked, the pieces came together. Clarity emerged, and Peter replied, “I see very clearly that God shows no favouritism. In every nation he accepts those who fear him and do what is right. This is the message of Good News for the people of Israel—that there is peace with God through Jesus Christ, who is Lord of all.” (Acts 10:34-36 NLT).

As Peter shared the gospel with the gathering in Cornelius’s house, the Spirit fell upon them, and Peter’s stunned Jewish traveling companions heard the gentiles speaking in tongues and praising God. Baptisms followed, with a time of unity and rejoicing! Another wall of division had crumbled as Jews and gentiles worshipped together.

Today, I read this story and felt an affinity with Peter. God gives me visions, pictures, or words, but my gut reaction is to question their validity; particularly if they challenge my cosiness. Scripture encourages us to test and to seek confirmation. As we have already seen, peter’s vision came three times, and it was confirmed by his visitors. However, there may be times when God stirs up our mindsets, our traditions, or our routines to bring us into a place of greater freedom. Some of our so-called god-made traditions are actually man-made, coming from a misunderstanding or misapplication of Scripture.

In these last days, God is stirring his people into action, but this may challenge our status quo. He is calling us out of our boxes tied neatly with ribbons and bows, so will we dare to step out of our comfort zones and follow him? It is good to seek wise council from Scripture and trusted Christian friends, but how long will we hold back and resist moving forwards in obedience? That’s a question only we can answer, so I’ll leave you to ponder it alongside me, praying that when God calls, you and I will be bold enough to answer.

Then, in verse 2, we read that because the help always comes, we will not fear, no matter what we face. “So we will not fear when earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea. Let the oceans roar and foam. Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge.” The events the psalmist lists are pretty catastrophic–earthquakes, mountains crumbling into the sea, oceans roaring and foaming… No wonder he needs an interlude after listing that lot! It sounds terrifying, but verse 4 speaks of joy. “A river brings joy to the city of our God, the sacred home of the Most High.”

How can we experience joy despite terror? Is this a cruel paradox? When reading these words, I may think, “You’ve got to be kidding! I’m supposed to feel joyful if I’m running away from an earthquake or a flood!” But what does verse 5 say? “God dwells in that city; it cannot be destroyed. From the very break of day, God will protect it.” This is talking about a physical location–a city; likely Jerusalem, but we can also apply its message to us. God dwells in his children by his Holy Spirit. Therefore, we can have peace during chaos, because he has promised us his love and protection. This doesn’t mean bad things won’t happen. The psalmist isn’t saying there won’t be earthquakes or floods; he’s saying we can still have peace and joy despite them because of the one to whom we belong. You and I are the sacred home of the most high, because God has made his dwelling in us. Even if our bodies are destroyed, our spirits will live on in eternity with our Saviour.

If verse 6 was true of the time when it was written, then it seems even more apt now. “The nations are in chaos, and their kingdoms crumble!” Just watch the news for evidence of these facts. Yet, “God’s voice thunders, and the earth melts!” the voice of the Lord is even louder than the tumult. It roars above the crashing waves. It cannot be silenced. So let’s allow him to speak his truths into our unrest, because “The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us; the god of Israel is our fortress”. (Verse 7).

Following the statement above, we find the second occurrence of the word “Interlude”. It’s as if the psalmist has to take a breath and ponder everything he’s written so far. Maybe we should do that too, because it’s a lot to take in, and if we gloss over it and rush onto the next thing, we will miss its beauty and power. So, take a break. Have a cup of tea, look out of the window, and ponder the one whose loving voice thunders over your storm. Consider how he has always seen you through. Thank him for being your refuge and strength, the one who is always ready to help in times of trouble.

Then, “Come, see the glorious works of the Lord: see how he brings destruction upon the world.” (Verse 8.) It may look like the enemy is winning, but he never will. How many times has God shown himself faithful throughout history? On how many occasions has he said, “So far, and no further”, on both a global and personal scale? Rejoice over his victories in your life. If he was faithful before, he will be faithful again. If he brought you through before, he will do it again. “He breaks the bow and snaps the spear; he burns the shields with fire.” (Verse 9.)

Finally, in verse 10, we get a word directly from God, written in the first person. But I don’t think it is what we expect. At least, it isn’t for me. I might expect something like, “Oh, you of little faith! Why aren’t you trusting me? Why are you still worried and upset? Why are you letting these storms overwhelm you? Don’t you realise who I am? Haven’t I shown you enough? You are so slow to understand–so sluggish in your faith.” But what does God say? “Be still, and know that I am God! I will be honoured by every nation. I will be honoured throughout the world.” (Verse 10:

Be still?… We’ve read about his voice thundering, and now he’s telling us to be still! If he’s as loud as thunder, how can we miss him? We should be able to distinguish him no matter what we’re doing! But do we? If my mind whirls with stress, do I have the capacity to listen for God’s still small voice? Ah, but it’s not a still small voice, I hear you say. You said it’s loud, like thunder. But consider the story of the prophet Elijah when he was hiding out in the cave. God promised to come, but he wasn’t in the wind, or in the earthquake. Instead, he came in a gentle whisper. God thunders in the world of evil and sin, but he whispers as a tender Father to his children, lulling us into peace and rest. Imagine a mother soothing her crying infant. She wouldn’t shout. Perhaps she would sing a lullaby, or whisper loving words: “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I love you. I’m going to keep you safe. There’s no need to cry. Go to sleep here in my arms, and you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“The Lord of heaven’s Armies is here among us; the God of Israel is our fortress.” (Verse 11). Finally, the psalm closes with another interlude, urging us once again to take time to pause and ponder. What are we to ponder? The presence of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies and the God of Israel. He is here among us, not aloof as a distant deity in the sky. He is the loving Father who tells us to “be still and know that he is God.” He is the one who holds us when we cry out in the night because we’re afraid of the thunder and lightning, or we’ve had a bad dream, or we’re plain scared, and we don’t even understand why. Sometimes, children can’t even voice the reasons for their fear, but a loving parent will offer reassurance. They won’t say, “Go away and stop being silly because I’m too busy to bother with your nonsense.” So, having established that God is the ultimate loving parent, we loop back to where we started. “God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble.”

World War II brings much devastation and change. Long-kept secrets are exposed, bringing to light the urgency to act.

Eddie Davies is desperate to move his daughters away from Cardiff, and his father, enlisting the help of his one-time closest friend, Ruthie Lewis.

A small country farm becomes a place of refuge for people from all walks of life. Despite their own tragedy, the farmer and his wife share God’s love with those in their care.

Is love strong enough to overcome the hurts of the past, as well as facing the future and the challenges it holds?

Before we throw our hands up in horror, let’s consider how many times we fall into this same trap. Do I grumble over the present while looking back on my past as a time when life was perfect? Absolutely. Yet when I lived that past, I still found things to moan and groan about as I do today. It’s true that we choose to remember more of the good than the bad. People talk about the good old days, but were they really as good as we like to think?

The ingratitude of the people is incredible. They accuse the two people who faced the wrath of Pharaoh on their behalf of bringing them into the wilderness to starve them to death. (Exodus 16:3 NLT). They actually say, “If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt.” The New Living Translation says they moaned, and I had to smile when I read that. On how many occasions has God caught me moaning and groaning? He gives me so much, but when he doesn’t give me what I want, or I feel his answers are slow in coming, I grumble like his people did here. So maybe I should be a little less judgemental as I consider their story and realise the lessons fall a little too close to home.

What does God do with our grumblings? What did he do for the nation of Israel? He didn’t wash his hands with them as an ungrateful group of moaners, even though he would have been justified in doing so. And praise God, he doesn’t do that to us either. In verse 4, God promises to rain down food from heaven. The idea of food being rained down suggests a lavishness. This isn’t going to just be enough for them to get by. There will be plenty and more to spare. However, there’s a test involved. He says, “Each day the people can go out and pick up as much food as they need for that day. I will test them in this to see whether or not they will follow my instructions.”

I didn’t like tests when I was at school, and I like them even less now, but they are necessary. You don’t truly know what’s inside a person until you put them to the test. I didn’t realise how much German vocabulary I knew until I sat through a listening exam and discovered I knew what they were saying. I had been paying attention after all, and those hours of revision were worth the free time they cost me.

What is the test here? God says he is trying to find out whether the Israelites will follow his instructions. Being God, he already knew the answer, so did he set the test primarily to reveal the condition of their own hearts? As I look back on the tests he has allowed in my life, I find they both taught and challenged me, and if I allowed them to, they helped me grow.

The Israelites were only to collect the amount of Manna they needed for one day. In doing so, they were showing faith in God’s ability to provide for tomorrow. When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to play a song on her record player, “One day at a time, sweet Jesus. That’s all I’m asking of you. Just give me the strength to do every day what I have to do.” And the Bible teaches that God’s strength and resources are renewed day by day. If he gave me what I need for tomorrow right now, I would squander it and waste it on today, and when tomorrow’s trials and challenges came, I would have nothing to draw from.

The Israelites had to believe that the same Manna they found on the ground today would be there again tomorrow. On the sixth day, they could gather extra, because the seventh day was to be a day of rest. God was very specific in his instructions, making them clear so theoretically, they were easy to obey. However, not all the people listened.

God reasoned that each of them required two quarts to fulfil their dietary needs, so when gathering Manna for their families, they had to take this into consideration. I can picture them descending upon the mana like a flock of hungry birds. They were dubious at first because this was an unknown substance, but it was food, and they were hungry. The younger folk gathered eagerly. Perhaps some pushed and shoved to get to where the Manna lay thickest, hoping they would have the best supply. Then there were the elderly folk who struggled to bend and gather their Manna. Was there someone to help them? I hope so, but inevitably some would have stooped to gather alone. Some returned to their tents loaded down with Manna, while others struggled to gather their supply, but the Bible says that when they measured it out, everyone had enough. The people who gathered a lot had nothing left over, and those who gathered only a little had just enough. Each family had just what it needed. (Exodus 16:18 NLT).

I love the end of that verse. “Each family had just what they needed.” I can imagine the prideful ones looking at their scales in disbelief, thinking, “I’m sure I collected more than that,” while the elderly and infirm would have weighed out their Manna, and said, “Thank you Lord for giving me more than I could gather.” They all had enough, and those who tried to keep some for the following day were disappointed when it went rotten, and they had to throw it away. The following morning would bring more Manna, and the next. The same daily routine was repeated year after year. I wonder how long it took them to learn God’s lessons of provision. I wonder if it took as long as it does for me.

I remember a hymn we sang at the church I attended as a child. One line said, “With his Manna he my hungry soul shall fill.” My soul is hungry for many things, and God knows exactly what they are and how to feed me. He will give me enough for today, then allow me to wait in faith for his renewed supply tomorrow. Tomorrow’s needs may differ from today’s, but he’s got those covered, too.

One more lesson came to mind in this story of the children of Israel gathering Manna, and sadly, it is another I am slow in learning. Once More, I picture the Israelites swarming like flies as they collected their food, and I think of the effort some would have put into the task, only to discover they had gathered as much as those who could only stoop once or twice. I think about the way I sometimes rely on self-effort to please God. Surely if I work harder, he will love me more. But if I don’t, what will happen then? I fall into the rat race of doing in order to please a God who simply loves me because I am his child. I can’t earn more of his love by serving him. Yes, it’s good to serve, but I should do so with joy out of a heart of love, rather than to get something I already have. And I certainly shouldn’t compare myself to others who outwardly seem to do less. How dare I judge a brother or sister’s heart when my own is often so compromised!

The more I read, the more I see myself in the mirror of God’s people’s wilderness journeys. I grumble, I complain, and I rely on my own efforts instead of trusting the daily faithfulness of my Saviour. Praise God for his patience and kindness, which he shows to me daily, just as he did them.

This story always transports me back to my Sunday School days, to colouring pages I couldn’t complete without straying outside the lines, and to an old song about David’s sling going round and round and round and round, accompanied by actions. It also reminds me of a teacher friend who loved acting out stories with her class. She stood on a table pretending to be goliath, while urging her pupils to shout and taunt. I bet they enjoyed that! Then, when the child chosen to be David slung his stone from an imaginary sling, she jumped down from the table, landing on the floor with an almighty thud, probably scaring the children and making poor little David think he really had killed his teacher.

David was the youngest of a troop of boys, and as the least important member of the family, it fell to him to care for his father’s sheep, while three of his older brothers joined King Saul’s army in battle against Israel’s age-old enemy the Philistines. Wondering how things were going on the front lines, dad Jesse sent David with food for his brothers and their captain. However, when David reached the army, he discovered there was a problem. Every time the two armies faced each other to fight, the Philistines put forward their strongest warrior, a giant of a man called Goliath, who demanded a one-on-one duel with any Israelite willing to accept his challenge. Since no one was, this left the battle in a state of stalemate, with the Israelites retreating, only for the same events to be repeated the following day.

Today, as I re-read 1Samuel 17, I was struck by the question Saul’s men asked David. “Have you seen the giant?” (1Samuel 25A NLT). Considering that Goliath was over nine feet tall, this seems like a crazy question. David couldn’t have missed him! He’d just been listening to his taunts!

As I pondered this question, “Have you seen the giant?” I thought about Good Friday. Just as David was brave enough to approach King Saul and say, “Don’t worry about this Philistine. I’ll go fight him.” (1Samuel 17:32, I can imagine Jesus turning to his Father in heaven when Adam and Eve sinned and the enemy seemed to have taken the upper hand, and saying, “Don’t worry, Father. I’ll go fight him.”

As we look around the world today, we see sin looming larger than a nine-foot giant. Everywhere we turn, there is chaos, poverty, and disaster. People are homeless and afraid. Addictions and their consequences run rampant. Children are growing up without hearing about Jesus, and the elderly are treated with disrespect. Just two years ago, we remembered the Lord’s resurrection in the middle of a worldwide lockdown because of COVID-19. Families were prohibited from meeting together, and churches closed. The world was a mess of fear and panic, as rumours and conspiracies ran rampant. Was this the end? Would life ever be normal again?

I remember that strange Easter of 2020, sitting alone on my garden swing, thinking about the sin and suffering that made it necessary for Jesus to give his life, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I was grateful that he loved me personally enough to die, despite the many ways I continued to let him down. I was thankful for the way he brings down giants in my life that would otherwise seem insurmountable. Despite the state of the world, there was still plenty to celebrate, and a good reason to rejoice.

When Jesus hung on the cross, his final words were, “it is finished.” (John 19:30 NLT). What a statement! But what did it mean? I believe he was telling us that the giant had been slain. Just as Goliath defied the Israelite army, Satan has attempted to interfere with God’s good plans from the creation of the world. He enticed Eve to eat the fruit in the Garden. He tried to wipe out the nation of Israel when Moses was born, and then later during the time of Queen Esther, all to stop the messiah from coming. Yet God’s plans cannot be thwarted. His promises are yes and amen. Right at the point when sin entered the world, he promised us a Saviour who would crush Satan’s head, (Genesis 3: 15), And that’s what happened when the perfect, sinless Son of God gave up his life, then rose again three days later. He conquered death once and for all, because death was the ultimate punishment for sin. Therefore, in overcoming death, he defeated sin and broke the curse of the fall.

“Every giant will fall. The mountains will move. Every chain of the past, you’ve broken in two. Over fears, over lies, we’re singing the truth, that nothing is impossible with you.” (Lyrics taken from Every Giant Will Fall by Rend Collective). Hallelujah! What a Saviour! This is our Jesus! This is our God! He’s the giant slayer and the chain breaker! He’s the miracle-worker and the way-maker! So rejoice with me as we celebrate his death and resurrection. David killed Goliath with a stone and a sling because he knew where his strength came from.

David’s battle cry was, “You come to me with sword, spear, and javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies – the god of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied.” (1Samuel 17: 45). Jesus’ victory cry was, “It is finished!” But what is ours? If we know him as our Lord and Saviour, we can boldly declare that our sin was paid for at the Cross, that Jesus’ death guarantees our eternal life, and we don’t have to be slaves to sin or Satan anymore.