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It is impossible to sort through our belongings while packing, without coming across a great many reminders of days gone by. All week long I have been bumping into memories …
This afternoon while sorting through drawers I came across a small sheet of paper with the words to a hymn I had sung one dark stormy night by candlelight in an old abbey on my first trip to Scotland.
Pausing to reflect on the words, my spirit quickened at the memory…
The little ferry pitched to and fro in the storm that evening as one wave after another slammed into it’s side. It was the last run of the day and there had been a question of whether or not it would even make the crossing but thankfully it did. This was my last night wandering around Scotland with the Lord as my guide before heading back to Kilsyth, where I’d fetch my belongings and catch a ride to the airport the following day.
I had been working my way across Scotland from the east coast starting at 5:30 am that morning, and had traveled by car, train, ferry, bus and ferry yet again to arrive at my destination; the tiny Island of Iona.
It was almost dark when I walked off the ramp of the ferry out onto little road leading to the Abby. When I booked a room in Oban for a B&B I was told to head that direction, so off I went in the pouring rain,. The wind was so strong it blew out my umbrella, but the sweet and powerful presence of the Lord was so tangible , not even a storm could move me from the place of rest and peace I had in Him.
This had been such an amazing journey with the Lord Jesus, one in which He revealed Himself to me in such an intimate way as my Shepherd, Protector, Provider, my King and yet my Elder Brother and closest Friend. There had been many similar evenings; arriving in an unfamiliar town only without having previously booked accommodations, relying solely on the Lord to lead me to the place He would have me stay for the night. Faithfully He always made a way.
As it turned out the directions I’d been given were wrong, and by the time I arrived at Findley Ross ( which was back by the dock ) I was cold, wet and ready for a bite to eat. After checking into my tiny room I changed into dry clothes, had a few minutes of prayer then walked across the road for dinner.
Seated next to a couple from Sweden it wasn’t long before we were engaged in conversation, and I was invited to join them for the 9pm worship in the Abbey, which I did. We walked together in what had now become a gale, but we laughed about it as we turned into the wind, all hope of using an umbrella having been dismissed.
The atmosphere was in some ways ethereal as we took our seats. Outside the ancient sanctuary the wind howled, but inside it was still, with long rows of candles illuminating the room. I half expected to hear the sound of monks chanting, their voices echoing across the centuries that night, but instead we listened to a plea for world peace and were invited to come and gaze upon the painted aboriginal stones from Australia, which were making their way around the world as a token of goodwill for every nation and religion.
My spirit was grieved by the new age influence yet rose above it to seek the face of the Lord in worship as we sang the following song. It was as if I could feel the anointing of faith from every believer who had truly worshipped in this place, resting upon us as we sang.
“Lord Jesus Christ shall I stand still
And stare at you hung on the tree;
Or shall I move to where you move
And die to self , yet live for thee?
Shall I to sin and failure cling
Consorting with the guilt I hate
Or on Your shoulders shall I fling
The wrong I breed and contemplateShall I Your story read and tell
To note your mark in history;
Or shall I make your story mine
And live by faith and mystery?
Shall I embrace the love you show,
And covet this sweet, holy thing;
and of that love shall my heart speak
My hands relate, my being sing?
Shall I retreat from where you fall
And seek a safer path through life;
Or shall I meet you in the world
Where peace is scarce, injustice rife?
Lord Jesus Christ, the God who lives
Who loved and died and rose again
Make me the who, and you the why,
Your way the how, and now the when”
Throughout the journey the longing to ever dwell in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ, had been my reality in a manner I had rarely experienced. Through my absolute dependence on the Father I learned this was possible not only throughout eternity, but while yet living here on earth. And like every journey that has followed since and those yet to come, Jesus etched His name deeper upon my heart, leaving an indelible mark that has branded me as His forever.
In the morning I arose before daylight desiring to climb Dun I, but to no avail. No one was around to enquire of and I did not know the way. Sadly I accept this may not be the right time, and wander through the nunnery ruins instead.
The wind is still blowing but the rain has ceased, and the Lord walks with me so I am glad. When the time comes I am reluctant to leave. Will this anointing remain; will I be able to feel the Lords presence so readily, hear His voice so clearly as I have, once I return home? The thought that I may not pierces my soul.
Asking the Lord for a reminder of this time I experience another new thing in the Spirit of the Lord; I am given specific instructions of where to look. I follow them to find hidden in the back of a little flower bed, a pure white dove feather resting on a bush. Everything around it is muddy, but It is clean and perfect. A beautiful symbol of the Holy Spirit so precious, whose presence had been manifest throughout this journey beyond what I had ever hoped or imagined.
Four years later I would visit Iona again; not alone this time but with my sister and others who were there for a season of prayer. On our last night the Lord Jesus would do something most unexpected, which brought me into a deeper more intimate communion with Him through a call to intercession that I believe is a lifetime commitment before the Lord Jesus Christ. From that day until now the burden to pray increases and expands; and is one I continue to grow in.
The cares a of life often crowd out the necessary time of quiet reflection before the Lord Jesus; my humanity overrides the Spirit all too often. Yet there are days like today when my spirit is drawn into that secret place of the Most High and He whispers “Come, sit with Me for a while“.
For a moment I touch heaven again on earth, the glory of the Lord passes by and I am in awe at His majesty and humbled by His merciful grace and love extended to me. A love I could never deserve and yet He so freely gives.
It is impossible for me to look back upon every trip to Scotland without a slight sense of longing, as every one has held similarly precious and yet unique encounters with Him. Each journey seems more precious than the one before, with a profoundly awakening touch of His life and grace.
Jesus is my very life as He is yours; without Him we are nothing and can do nothing of any worth. But with Him ALL things are possible! May you walk with Him this day, in the very presence and Spirit of the Most High God, who is our life and breath and reason for being. He’s waiting just for you.
