Revelation 16

The 7 bowls of wrath tipped out in this chapter kinda sorta parallel the 10 plagues of Egypt. While you think “how can God do this?” you also think “God already does, pretty much”. Here’s a helpful table!

7 bowls of wrath in Revelation	10 Plagues of Egypt plagues (not in order)
1 Festering sores	7 Boils
2 Sea turned to blood – everything dies  3 Rivers and springs turned to blood	1 Water turns to blood
4 Scorching Sun	3 Dust turns to lice 4 Flies  5 Pestilence of livestock 8 Locusts
5 The beast’s kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues in agony	9 Darkness for three days
6 Euphrates dried up, impure spirits like frogs	2 Frogs
7 Flashes of lightning, thunder, severe earthquake and hail.	6 Thunderstorm of hail and fire
	10 Death of the firstborn

Three woes: the seals on a scroll, the trumpets and now the bowls. I agree with the Bible Project’s interpretation of these three visions of judgement and destruction: they are most likely the same thing told 3 different ways, rather than a chronological series of separate future events.

For me it’s reminiscent of the creation story, which is told two different ways. It is described in the framework of a week, but it could be a long story.

Today’s story probably started directly after that one, when the angel barred the way back into the garden. So Revelation can pull precedents from the whole of scripture, from exodus, as in this chapter, through the prophesied tribulations of Israel and through to Jesus.

And Revelation also draws from our experience of life. To live is to exist with a certain survivor guilt. I’m writing in March 2023 just a few weeks out from one of the most destructive earthquakes of my lifetime, in Turkey. It’s already left the headlines.

Disease, famine, natural disasters. And, when military and political power are used for evil, the man-made beasts. I’ve survived most of these judgements happening around me all of my years.

Creation groans and people are evil. Everyone dies. There’s that saying, the good die young. Maybe that’s as close as we get to avoiding some of Judgement.

Not that I don’t believe in a final reckoning. Jesus said he would return. The plot of Revelation is clearly reaching a climax. At the end of this chapter, the day of the lord is coming. The kings of earth, enchanted by the impure spirits of Satan (which look like frogs), are gathering at Armageddon for a final battle. The war word is uttered!

But for me, my accountability is about how I live with my survivor guilt and how I respond to the judgements and injustices of my time and place. As I noted in the last chapter, there isn’t pressure on me for my responses to be as grand as Revelation’s visions. They can be local, small, quite passive and ad hoc. But when my heart is changed by the spark of god’s spirit, there is rejoicing in heaven.

Kelly still sick. I think it’s one of those big ‘flus that mark a reassessment of your priorities during the gap of illness. Big deal, and frustrating as hell for her.

Judee Sill time! “til dreams come true”, which I think I already linked to a post once, but why not again?

The lyrics must surely be some sort of reference to the army of the slain lamb, and the battle at armageddon. It’s not the first time for her (“the lamb ran away with the crown”).

I also love how she seems to be referring to the idea that God’s kingdom of love is being built around us all the time, while we are lost searching for signs! For all it’s scary grandeur and distractions, what better summary of Revelation could there be than “have no fear”.

I updated the official Musicmatch version of the lyrics to reflect biblical background a bit better. eg: they said “lay down your longing, cry your tears”, but anyone who recognises Revelation references will say its going to be “dry your tears”. “No more crying, because God will wipe away every tear” ch21:4… we’ll get there, soon, gonna be great!

Mind you, I reckon these lyrics are a work in progress, we only have a demo of this song, she died before it was done, I think.

Lean your head over and have no fear
Hope springs eternal to all ears that hear
Lay down your longing and dry your tears
Your spark shall be honored, your heart’s being steered

We were lost almost two thousand years
Thinking someday a sign might appear
While love through the cloven sky peers
Over all we do
‘Til dreams come true

Every way beauty is slain, it seems
The war word is uttered, a great silence rings
Underfoot innocence on the scene
With humble hearts shuttered, a symbol and a dream

And in each one a main germ is seen
Where the dark fly the spark is redeemed
While milk through the firmament streams
Over all we do
‘Til dreams come true

Revelation 13

What would it take for my faith to crumble?

This letter is written to Christians probably suffering the second persecution by Roman emperors. Nero was first, but this was probably written during the rule of Domitian a few decades later.

The first readers would have had little doubt that the beast from the sea that emerges here was a vision of one of those emperors. Indeed the beast is depicted as having recovered from a mortal wound, which could have implied a continuity of both emperors.

The beast is identified as doing the work of the dragon from the last chapter, Satan. And there is a third monster, the beast of the earth. Together they make a kind of unholy Trinity: anti-God, anti-Christ and anti-Holy Spirit.

Daniel spoke of a series of beasts, which equate to the Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman empires. The animals – bear, leopard and lion turn up there and here, so it’s an unmistakable cross reference. Daniel’s prophesy was literally coming true all around the original audience of this letter.

In the vision, everyone is forced to worship the Empire/Emperor as a god, and wear prayers and signs of worship on forehead and arms, as the Jews did for Jehovah. This blasphemy is the notorious number of the beast, 666.

It possibly spells emperor Nero’s name. But also the drama of Revelation hangs off 3 “woes”: 3 seven-stage narratives of judgement that reach their worst at the sixth stage: 6, 6 and 6. If it’s the number of imperfection, it’s a hopeful number. As bad as it will get before it gets better.

This beast can kill though. It also controls commerce. It’s totalitarian. It will destroy you if you don’t participate.

Would that be bad enough? What would it take for my faith to crumble?

The only template of response the Christians have is the slain lamb.

I watched the Bible project summary of revelation again today. How good it is! They keep emphasising that all we have in response to these powerful evils is an attitude of humble sacrifice.

As it says here in verse 10: “This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of God’s people.”

First mine then Kelly’s faith in the Salvos has crumbled. She finally intends to leave her job as a sales assistant at the end of this month.

She has been destroyed partly for not participating in the culture of theft, putting it bluntly. She’s been a true believer in recycling, in using her considerable talent to get the very best return for the Salvos on all the donations given by people in good faith… respecting that position of trust. She’s been a loved community figure, who local people confide in and return to with affection.

For that she’s been bullied and attacked mercilessly. Her co workers have demanded she be fired and she’s been undermined, suffered petty mistreatment, unfairly loaded with all the hard work, mocked for being stressed, treated with appalling sexism and ageism. By the staff! It’s been a horror show.

And her faith has crumbled.

Her Christian faith will survive I think, battered and knocked around. But salvos has become a beast.

And MY faith? Still processing that.

I had a bad experience with salvos too, though I still love what they represent. But why do they keep breaking our hearts?

I put my bad experience down to a weird and specific personality clash. But maybe they dance too close to the beast. Can you partner with the beast? Can you and the beast live-and-let-live? The stores rely heavily on the managers having a sense of mission, and not being ethically challenged. It’s pivotal. Without that (and it’s been notably absent) everything falls apart.

I really don’t think this chapter is mostly about predicting the advent of a specific apocalyptic beast. It’s encouraging a group of Christians to hold firm, humbly, against their beast and remember that God is in control.

Amen.

Revelation 10

A vision for all humanity.

There is a pause before the seventh trumpet sounds, just as there was a pause before the seventh seal was opened.

The pause before the 7th seal opening was an opportunity for faithful Israelites and Gentiles to be marked, given robes, and gather before the throne of God.

This pause before the 7th trumpet sounding makes it clear that the vision that will unfold is for all humanity, not just focusing on churches and the faithful.

A massive angel appears: head in rainbow, one foot in the sea one on land and a voice like seven thunders. John is about to jot down what the thunder voice is saying, but the angels says no, seal that one up.

Instead he holds a tiny scroll that has a vision for “many peoples, nations, languages and kings.” Rather than simply read the scroll John eats it, a move from Ezekiel.

It’s sweet in the mouth but sour in the stomach. That reminded me of Jeremiah complaining that his message “burned in his bones”. He knew it was right and good and from God, but he also hated it because it was hard for people to hear, and made him miserable to deliver.

The interplay of Christianity and society at large is in a pretty interesting place in NSW at the moment.

The deeply Catholic premier, Dominic Perotett, has staked the election on introducing cashless pokie machines to attack money laundering and problem gambling. The clubs and pubs, which stand to lose billions, are throwing everything at him.

Christianity is more on the nose with the public right now than I can recall in my whole life. It’s an obvious move to accuse the premier of being motivated by sinister Christian cult-type connections.

The media has already started to smear him for his association with Opus Dei schools, which are characterised as dangerous brain-washing rogue extremists (eg: they teach the lads that porn is a bad idea. Oh the horrors!!)

Today the clubs have jumped on that bandwagon too, saying that the anti-gaming moves represent creepy Christian mind control by a fanatic premier who won’t stay in his lane.

It’s all about defending our freedom to be addicted to porn and gambling without evil Christians saying right out loud that it might be unwise!

And certainly not openly including the option to curb some of it in the democratic process. Nothing that overlaps with Christian morality must be in the ballot box. It’s all a plot!

Mind you, Catholics themselves are imploding a bit because the Pope has said sexual sin is just another sin, not worse than sins of social justice like inequality, hypocrisy and greed. Which I would have to say, reading the prophets, is abundantly made clear over and over.

And as for me, I’m stuck here with Revelation. All my life people have said “Christianity isn’t just hellfire and brimstone you know”. But Revelation IS mostly hellfire and brimstone! Last chapter the Abyss cracked open, and a smell of sulfur and an evil locust army poured out. This is where all that comes from.

Sweet in the mouth and sour in the stomach. Thats it! And we’re seeing that tension play out around us, daily in the headlines. People hate wisdom. Especially if they suspect it comes from God which… it does.

So roll out the seventh trumpet, let the mountains melt and the seas burst forth from their appointed bounds! Let’s do this!

Revelation 9

Trumpets 5 and 6 of a series of seven.

Five is very reminiscent of Joel. That prophesy starts with a locust plague that then appears as an army of the lord. In this one they come out of a place called the Abyss, which opens up and emits burning and smoke, like a cartoon of hell. These locust/armies torture rather than kill.

I was thinking these visions of judgement must surely be visions of a future cataclysm, but then I remembered the lyrics of my Joel song “pandemic, climate change, bushfires, locusts….” There’s usually also plenty of current candidates to identify as torture from the abyss!

And even though they emerge from hell, it’s made clear that the lord is allowing it to happen, just as Joel makes it clear the day of the locusts is a day of the lord. Who can survive the day of the lord?

It’s because we are evil. We do terrible terrible things. God can be merciful, and God is. But we need shocks like this, visions of what we deserve, to have any hope of becoming aware of how offensive to goodness we are.

This letter is being written to the churches from chapter one, (plus the churches today). Churches who look alive, but they are dead, churches so compromised and tepid that God wants to spit them out. Churches of people tempted daily not to bother with their faith, not to care about God. They need a shock, we often need a shock.

The sixth trumpet unleashes beasts from the Euphrates to go to the four corners of the earth to kill. It seems to be talking about earthly conquerors. Last Thursday was Australia Day, which is an annual national identity struggle as we remember that our country was founded on just that. Those beasts have been rampant a long time.

At the end of the chapter, the narrator flatly informs us that all this adversity made none of the survivors think twice and repent.

It’s not cheery. Revelation is huge fun and grinding at the same time. What a strange book! I think Paul actually had similar, probably even more amazing, visions. He talks mysteriously about when he was “caught up to paradise and heard inexpressible things, things that no one is permitted to tell”. But the apocalyptic genre must just not have been his jam.

I’m in a bit of an identity crisis, not quite sure what I should be doing or where I’m headed, and this is meant to be an encouragement of sorts.

Or expectation management at least: not to be surprised when things turn apocalyptic. We’re all gonna die, everyone faces at least their own personal apocalypse!

But also to carry on, not abandon our faith in God. Because there’s only one constant here: you want to be on the lord’s side!

I think I can make a to-do list on that basis…

Jude

Judah, a brother of Christ, writing to a Jewish church. The earlier letters were a lot about establishing the faith. These: Titus, the 3 Johns and this, are all about the fight to keep it focused. Jude says they have to contend for the faith

A threat here is lazy grace. People who teach that Jesus’ message is a license for immorality.

I meet so many people through my care work who are slaves to their addictions… Sex, drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, gambling etc. They sacrifice their finances, relationships, health to these things.

A guy I help has bad knees because of a protein deficiency, and his skin tears like paper. He knows it’s his over-reliance on alcohol has done it. Poor nutrition. I love being with him, he’s a naturally funny sparky guy. But his health is terrible.

All the addictions lead to an unwise degree of things that make you feel good. Cheap gratification like cheap grace. It’s a lack of trust in god’s wisdom.

God wants us to be happy, the advice about moderation is wise advice. We’re happy and healthy if we follow it.

The short letter has some wonderfully poetic moments.

“on the strength of their dreams these ungodly people pollute their own bodies, reject authority and heap abuse on celestial beings.”

Verse 8

On the strength of dreams: the promise of ease, of consequence-free gratification, of easy wealth and escape from the sense of guilt and failure. Such dreams that steal your life and drive you to destruction.

And you will find that people with these dreams have slipped into your church. Don’t be shocked!

He makes devastating comparisons: the Israelites, wandering in the desert, a generation dying before they reached the holy land.

Another poetic moment I loved:

They are …wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.

Verse 12

Wandering stars! Their gleaming lost in the blackness, a picture of vast loneliness.

Great song too.

It’s new year’s day 2023. I’m too bamboozled, and with too much baggage, for resolutions. Though an optimism crept into the day regardless. We cleaned up the yard and had a slap up barbeque.

Mawaa, Ren’s girlfriend, got sick. He lost his job, probably. Had been a happy day until those events in the last few hours. Their relationship is at 6 months, and they’re starting to experience some complexity to their lives together.

I pray for wisdom. Action rather than promises, and truth with love. I was also struck by Jude’s greeting: “Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.” God wants good for us, a lot of it.

Jude has tough stuff to say, but he starts with that. The tough stuff has to be said and done. But God doesn’t want to deny us any of the capacity for blissful joy that he built into us.

It’s smoke, an insubstantial dream, to believe otherwise. Jude(e) Sill wrote, about drugs:

“I found a way outside myself
To make my spirit climb
And I coulda shinnied on up
But my rope was made of wind”

Always loved that image, it throws me into Ecclesiastes (“chasing after wind/smoke” and Hosea 13 “they will be like smoke escaping through a window”) So two songs today. Here’s to a wise and joyful new year.

1 Peter 2

The consistency of ideas between epistles written by Paul and others is striking. James is a bit different, but not much. Peter is very similar.

The chapter moves on from the Jesus story groundwork of chapter one with a classic epistle “therefore” to talk about how people in churches, communities of Christ, should live.

The primary sins to avoid are deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander. Abstract sins of motivation and process, not defined by specific outcomes. Sins that imply humble individual introspection, not tribalism. Sins that, if controlled, unleash grace, not crusades. They are similar to the sins that the minor prophets return to again and again: unfairness, injustice, greed. Sins of disrespect of others, unfair denial of their rights and humanity.

I love Peter’s call to come to Jesus, the living rock and be living stones of a kingly and priestly temple. The living rock which was rejected, but now is cornerstone and/or stumbling block. It’s an emotional flight of metaphor.

Part of the warm satisfying feeling that comes off it for me is the sense of purpose. We are put here for this. The not-intellectually-challenging work of being honest and content. So often in these entries I struggle with waves of sad frustration over my identity and plans. Here is a destiny, a focus, that is adaptable to pretty much anything that could happen to you and self evidently wise and true.

And it’s all to be an example, a shining light as Jesus put it. I also find comfort in the idea that we don’t need to measure the success of our efforts by an observable response:

“Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.”

v12

Sometimes I fear those pagans may include my own children, who in some things may only ever to my face accuse me of doing wrong. Yet here is this confident hope that good deeds can still lead them to glorify God at some stage.

Never lose grace with anyone, it’s saying. That unwilling, unspoken moment of acknowledging someone you resent has done a good thing for you for no self-serving reason… so against your preferred narrative that you refuse to even let them be aware it happened… that moment is a victory of god’s love that will stand for eternity. Gosh!

How important are our deeds as well as our words.

Submit to authorities. Slaves submit even to mean masters. Very similar to the importance Paul gave to redefining traditional power relationships through our revelation of God’s love. Returning at the end of the chapter to our cherished and shared example of Jesus. A truly good man who endured unfair insults and beatings. God submitting to wounds and death to heal us.

Writing on an ordinary Monday, trying to bat away the kind of burn out and realisation of opportunities not seized you get as the end of a year approaches. I think of this as the part of the year where you are swimming at the top of the waterfall. By November the pull towards the next year means you have to let go of the milestones you hoped to achieve for this year at an ever increasing rate. By the time you are swept into the rush of Christmas and New year, you’re just relaxed into the ride.

Praying for patience, an essential element to this vision for the Christian life.

Hebrews 12

The week the queen died. It’s a bit like losing a parent, she’s been such a constant.

The disabled people I support for work are disturbed by it. They all spend a lot of time alone watching free-to-air television. They are at least annoyed by the wall to wall coverage. But two schizophrenic people are genuinely grieving, trapped with the TVs triggering it.

They are sensitive to what an anchor she has been. They feel the loss, and it seems to connect to so much else they have lost.

Internationally the grief seems to be similar, she’s a marker and connector to so much that has passed.

But here in Hebrews 12 we have the reminder that the saints are all there in heaven watching like a crowd at the Olympic Games, cheering us on to run our race unimpeded by sin as God planned: learning from Christ’s love and sacrifice to work tirelessly for God’s kingdom of peace and justice. Rahab and Jepthah are there. Plus the queen, plus mum and dad.

And even if those images were just our memories or just narratives of them, which I don’t believe they merely are. But even if they were, they would still be a powerful encouragement, and comfort in our loss. Our identity, our provenance.

It’s a frame in which to endure hardship, by remembering them, and thinking of it as discipline that strengthened them.

The author returns to the choice Moses presented to the Israelites as they looked over the border of promised land between the mountain of blessings and the mountain of curses. Who will they serve? When everything is going wrong, I might be fooled into thinking I’m on the mountain of curses.

But my hardship for Christ’s name is like the wilderness years. They lead to mount Zion; to blessing not curses. And to reject it would be to reject God’s grace.

Maybe my hardship at the moment involves batting down my feelings of frustration at being stuck being a mere support worker, and my sense of burnout at church. Maybe it’s taking greater care of Kelly and the kids. Maybe there are whole new paths out there that I could be open to. The choices are more about the spirit and the fruit than the specific path.

Great chapter, interesting thoughts. And today I have a day off with Kelly, and a drive to visit our friend Lisa up the coast. Yippee!

Praying for family, and as I have got in the habit before every shift, for wisdom and love.

Hebrews 11

Classic chapter, the heroes of the faith. I’ve been a bit frightened of doing it justice, which is ultimately a silly response. God’s word deserves respect but it deserves engagement more. If you can’t give God praise, give him struggle. Did Psalms teach me nothing?

This is just a great chapter about faith, the hope in something invisible. The eternity that Ecclesiastes said is hard-wired into our hearts, expressing itself as an awe of something not known, but greater:

“All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth.”

“welcomed them from a distance…” A lens for the whole old testament, connecting it to Christ.

Having emphasised devastatingly the disconnect Christ made with the Israelite religious system, now we have this magnificent connection: faith. It’s surely one of the best sweeps through the whole narrative so far.

And of course these people have flaws. Rahab Jephthah, Samson, David. It’s a shock every time to remember that David was a murderer.

I was also interested in his identification of their sense of being strangers. The unnamed ones who were beaten, sawn in two, and lived hard as vagabonds because of their faith.

It’s all setting the stage for huge encouragement. This starts to make it clear that the sharp rebukes the author has been making are not despairing but hopeful. It’s a vision, a spur, to the great lives the listeners could be living.

Thinking about my life, I’m a bit mixed up because I realise the flexibility of the work I’m doing, care work, means I can do so much more in the church community. Is it wrong to want more?

I’d like just a bit more money. Kelly is a bit miserable and would value the option to work a bit less.

Plus I don’t know about the future, when I’m retired, or how much I want to be able to support the kids. Whether I’ll be able to support myself.

It’s all a swirl into which this passage speaks.

Faith is a simplifying principle, and the guidance, the choices, it offers are broad. My feelings from reading this chapter are very positive, if confusing.

I’m nervous this morning too, as I’m returning to support the guy I offended last week, who slammed the door in my face. I hope it’s not too awkward.

I used to joke about the phrase “live by faith”, a bit of schtick where I outrageously took for granted my parent’s supplying my every need while I also berated them for not “living by faith” (“I neither wash up my plate nor my linen, but lo, it is done! Why can they not live as I do?”)

The phrase was coined by God in response to dialogue in habukuk. The prophet challenges God… how dare God use the Babylonian conquest to solve the problem of corrupt priests!

Live by faith, God says.

Maybe the joke’s on me. Hebrews, habukuk, God are saying things could get a lot worse!

But faith helps you feel OK about living like an outcast here on earth.

Hebrews 10

It concludes the teaching about sacrifice, and flicks into talking about the listeners’ response.

It’s the complete demolition of the temple system, the system of law which is but a shadow of the one true sacrifice of Jesus. Big emphasis on not needing repetition. Once for all does it. We have confidence.

It’s interesting to me that the author emphasises their subjective experience of forgiveness as much or more than the cosmic objective issue of sin.

It makes sense when discussing the temple, because actually killing the animal didn’t take away sin. It was only ever a reminder of God’s mercy. A ritual for humans, not essential for God. That’s why it was ongoing like communion. 

Otherwise:

…the worshipers would have been cleansed once for all, and would no longer have felt guilty for their sins.

Verse 2

I was just interesting to me that he said “felt” guilty not “been guilty”.

And even with the forgiveness Jesus brings, my subjective experience of it plays a big part:

…let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.

Verse 22

Cleansed from a guilty conscience.

And it’s that confidence before God, the moral ease of being a Christian, the glorious comfort of that subjective realisation of God’s love, that the people who fight Christianity so often miss.

The author arguably goes on straight away to undermine that confidence, when he talks about continuing to sin being like trampling Jesus underfoot, and how much worse it will be for the person who does that than a slack Israelite under the old rules.

But I’m convinced this is designed strongly to inspire the audience. It’s oratorical, stating the case sweepingly and strongly for dramatic performative effect.

He refers to a background of persecution. When they were under attack, they had to be brave and united and take strong stances for their beliefs. But the stunning truth about Jesus should always inspire that response. Confidence should lead to clarity boldness and commitment.

Praying for clarity! There’s so much meat to chew in Hebrews I don’t have much space to relate it, at least in what I write here, to where I am at. But I’m confused, pessimistic and mixed up. Sigh sigh, pray. Confidence, clarity and boldness, yes please!

Hebrews 5

Jesus is a great high priest in the order of Melchizedek. Sounds wonderfully ominous and pompous, as if he might be grand wizard of an exotic version of the local masonic Lodge.

How delightful then that the author explains that the good thing about priests is that they are just one of us, weak, tempted by sin, representing us before God almighty from a place of empathy, urging mercy on God’s part.

The order of Melchizedek is as much signalling Christ’s lack of credentials as his grandness. Usually priests had to be related to Aaron. Christ wasn’t, but neither was Melchizedek, who was a king who also acted in the priest role despite lacking the right bloodline. So Christ is that kind of priest, (and king).

The author of Hebrews will return to this idea in chapter 7 I believe.

But first he needs to do another grumpy tick off.

It’s a feature of Hebrews that the author seems to vacillate between extravagant articulations of God’s grace, mercy and love, and impatient bluntness about how the Hebrews aren’t good enough. The chapter ends with the author criticising them for being spiritual babies, still needing milk when they should be on solid food by now.

This makes it pretty perfect teaching for average churches today. How great it is to be in a place of solace, where you can lay all your burdens on Christ, confident of love and acceptance. But also a place of accountability, a community where there are expectations that you will challenge yourself to be a better person.

It’s a pretty helpful guide to being a support worker for disabled people, which is where I am at again after my comms job flamed out yet again.

You are there to give them dignity. To support, to lessen the impacts of their disability so that they get more equality of life choices, more life enjoyment. It’s a privileged role without the encumbrance of being medical. Not much of telling them that they should do this or should do that. Grace, empathy, acceptance.

And yet, particularly in the area of mental health, you are there to help them overcome challenges, stretch themselves, build those capacities, learn and reach goals that medical people have set for them.

So as a support worker I’m always walking the line of living in their area of chosen obedience. Not because they fear judgement, but because they are confident they are loved and accepted. They have a safe relationship where they can look at themselves and decide how they want to be a better person. Ideally, anyway. I’m a born enabler. The challenge/encouragement bit is what I find hardest.

“Let me be as Christ to you”. How deeply can I hold that in mind as I go about my support work.