Baptism is the outward sign of what God has done innwardly in a person’s life! We are thrilled to be baptising five people this afternoon in a service starting at the earlier time of 4 p.m. Do come along and witness these five getting wet and sharing what Jesus means to them!

After the service we’ll be having a buffet meal.

Hope to see you all there!

As a child, I hated athletics. Every single event held terrors for me. I was no runner: both sprints and longer distance races demoralised me. I was useless at throwing, so the javelin, discus and shot put were all beyond the skill of my feeble arms. Long jump felt like a farce with my little legs. But the two events that really underlined my athletic inadequacy for me were the hurdles and the high jump.

Other people got the timing in hurdles perfectly right, running and striding over the hurdles without ever knocking one over. I could never get it right, and the hurdles seemed like high jumps to me. I could never get over them without clattering them down, hurting my legs and ending up way behind the other athletes. Those hurdles stood like Everest to me as others took them literally in their stride, effortlessly elegant.

The high jump was even worse. No matter which method I employed, I could barely manage the lowest height. Sometimes I hit the bar. More often than not, I didn’t get anywhere near it. The hot tears of failure and shame marked every PE lesson in summer.

Hurdles are meant to be easily surmountable, a little bit like an obstacle designed to test runners’ technique rather than a mountain to scale. They are a metaphor for life. This race makred out for us (Hebrews 12:1) is not usually a straight sprint. It’s long distance and cluttered with hurdles that can’t be avoided but must be overcome.

Hurdles of disappointment, dread, bereavement, betrayal, ill-health and injury are there, waiting to trip us up, make us stumble and sap our confidence. Hurdles of delays and doubts, bitterness and battles are there, impediments to the plain sailing we would like life to be.

Overcoming hurdles means carrying the momentum of the good times, having the courage to tackle the difficulties head-on, and a belief that ‘with Your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.’ (Ps 18:29)

It’s not easy. Some hurdles may leave us on the ground, weeping in despair. But God’s Spirit living in us reminds us that ‘with God all things are possible’ (Matt 19:26) and ‘I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’ (Phil 4:13) So we get up and face the hurdle again.

Don’t let the hurdles overcome you. God can carry us over them, no matter what. He wants us on His team, regardless of our skills (or lack of them.) We don’t have to bring great talent or prowess to Him; He is the One who supplies the ability. All He wants is for us to rely on Him for those countless second chances.

Many people feel daunted when reading the Bible. Miracles abound and prophets like Moses, Elijah and Elisha seem far beyond our experience. There is nothing daunting about the book of Ruth. It has just four chapters and its ordinary story about coping in times of economic difficulty and emotional trouble should resonate with us all. Ordinary people, dealing with ordinary, everyday situations. But ordinary does not mean insignificant or unimportant. Eugene Peterson goes on to describe Ruth’s story as ‘a modest but nevertheless essential part of the vast epic whose plot is designed by God’s salvation.’ (ibid., P 78)

The book reminds us that ‘every detail of a person’s life is part of a larger story, and the larger story is salvation.’ (Ibid., P 79) We are woven into God’s story, and suddenly insignificance is forgotten. We matter to God. God is working in the everyday details and shaping our lives. Ruth – a foreign ‘outsider’ – becomes part of the lineage of David and of Jesus. She’s integrated into God’s story through His sovereignty, which is worked out in intimate detail in ordinary people’s lives.

It can be hard for us to see the bigger picture of our lives (we’re too close; all we see are the knots and mess of the underside of the tapestry!) But Ruth assures us that there is a master weaver at work in our lives, whether we see that yet or not.

What do we do when the disconnect between the glories in the Bible and our everyday realities seems so great? How do we maintain faith in the dull and the humdrum, in our everyday lives?

Ruth is the book that shows us ordinary people in difficult circumstances still exhibiting grace and still finding love and God’s salvation. The time is famine. The circumstances involve multiple bereavement. In the midst of Naomi’s bitterness (‘Call me Mara’), we find Ruth: loyal, faithful, prepared to change, and we find Boaz: kind, just, faithful. And in the middle of this story of ordinary lives, we find a baby who becomes the ancestor of King David and of the Lord Himself, God working out His plans in unspectacular ways (what could be more ‘ordinary’ than a love story and a baby?!)

Ruth is the reminder that the ordinary matters, that God is found in the most mundane of places. It is the reminder that those obscure Levitical laws (Leviticus 19:9) about leaving the edges of fields for foreigners actually make a difference to someone’s daily life. Ruth is a book which connects the everyday and the sacred, and as such, is a vivid reminder to us that even when it rains on a July day and maybe spoils our plans for outdoor activities, God is still working for good in ordinary lives.

C. S. Lewis wrote that ‘every fold and crease of your individuality was devised from all eternity to fit God as a glove fits a hand.’ That is a thought so mind-boggling I can barely comprehend it. My individuality is unique. There is no one quite like me (for which people are probably very grateful!) To think that ‘every fold and crease’ is not only known to God but ‘devised’ by Him for His purpose is something I can barely grasp.

To find people who know us, accept us and love us is a wonderful (and rare) thing. When we do, when we feel connected to another person (linked, perhaps, by a shared love of something or a common goal), there is a sense of satisfaction and completeness. To know that we can have that kind of connection to God Himself is very precious.

My handmade gloves fill me with a warmth that is not simply connected to the cosy, sparkly yarn from which they are made. They remind me visibly that my friend cared enough about me to make them for me (and cared so much as to make me two pairs and a pair of fingerless gloves out of the same yarn, actually!) They remind me that in her eyes I was worth making something beautiful tailored for me.

God is our Maker and Creator. Every fold and crease of our individuality was made by Him to fit Him – our worth is deterrmined by the value He places on us, and that value was so great He sent His Son to die for us. That’s something which should warm our hearts, and not just our hands!

The children had to break cotton thread (easy enough with one thread, much harder with multiple threads) and carry a very heavy rucksack (only possible when they worked together.) The church should be a place where we pray for each other and help in practical ways where possible. That way, we share God’s love and invite others to experience His love too.