Category: Life’s challenges

Mac has died

Just over a week ago, our dog Mac died. His breathing became difficult the previous evening, and Alison and I sat with him through the night. As soon as possible the next morning we rushed him to our vet. Just after we arrived at the surgery, Mac’s heart stopped. A brilliant team brought him back, but he was too far gone. We stroked Mac and told him we loved him, and then he died. A few days later we laid Mac to rest in a place which was a favourite for him.

Part of the reason I am writing this is because Mac was mentioned in past blog posts, one very recently. (See https://occasionallywise.com/2025/11/06/a-life-that-is-centred/ and https://occasionallywise.com/2021/01/23/unconditional-love/.) But I’m honest enough to admit there may be another reason – sometimes grief just has to be shared.

I’ve had dogs before, but never one like Mac. In the post on Unconditional Love, I wrote this:

Mac is my dog. We have two dogs, but Mac is my follower. If I walk across the room, he comes too. When I sit down, he lies nearby. If I go to my home office, Mac joins me. (He’s here right now.) When I go to the bathroom, Mac would be there too, except I refuse him entry. But he’ll wait just outside for me.

I’ve no idea why he’s so devoted. He just is. My companion, day after day after day.

Mac’s devotion to me never wavered, and I became devoted to him. Hence how much I miss him. He was loyal, gentle, gritty, affectionate, and fun.

Perhaps only those who have loved a pet can understand the grief that follows their passing. It can’t be compared with losing a person, but it is real grief.

Some day – maybe – I’ll write more about things like that. At present my emotions are too raw. But perhaps it’ll always be too hard to reflect on losing my friend.

Alison has been my strength through these day, while all the time needing strength from me for her own sense of loss. Our family have supported us wonderfully, and friends have helped too. We still have Ciara, a beautiful blend of German Shepherd, retriever and collie. It’s hard to tell, but she seems lonely, which would be understandable.

We are deeply thankful that for eight years we were privileged to share life with Mac. There are many, many wonderful memories which we will treasure. The Bible says there is “a time to be born and a time to die” (Ecclesiastes 3: 2). What happens between these two ‘times’ matters greatly, and Mac gave us his best years. For that we will always be grateful.

It would have been easier if I’d been drunk

A young couple asked me, their minister, to conduct their wedding. “Delighted!” I replied. They added, “It will take place in Shetland,” apparently because the bride came from there. But that was no problem. Shetland is a long way north, but an easy flight from my base in Aberdeen.[1]

So, in mid summer I flew to the furthest place north of mainland Scotland where some of the 100 islands in the Shetland archipelago are closer to Norway than to major cities in the south. That far north, summer days are long and nights have very little darkness.[2] I had time to explore. Since then I have visited dozens of other countries, but Shetland is still the most awesomely beautiful place I have ever seen.[3]

The wedding service went well, after which the couple stood in warm sunshine for photographs and to greet their guests. Then came the reception, with plenty to eat and to drink. It was a great time.

I had a flight to catch back to Aberdeen that evening. But, just before I started on the 25 mile journey south from Lerwick to Sumburgh airport, I heard that a thick sea mist meant all flights were cancelled. Not to worry, because the airline had booked all passengers on the overnight sea ferry from Lerwick which would arrive in Aberdeen at breakfast time. ‘That will be fine,’ I thought.

It was very far from fine. The problem wasn’t the cabin, which I would be sharing with a Christian friend who’d also attended the wedding, and with two oil-rig workers going on leave. Nor was the problem lack of food on board, especially since I’d eaten well earlier and wasn’t hungry. And the oil workers weren’t the problem; they disappeared for hours to the bar.

The problem was everything to do with the ferry journey. Once out of the harbour and into the North Sea, the ship pitched up and down as strong waves lifted and dropped the vessel. My stomach began to heave in sync with those waves. Then the ferry got far enough south to escape the shelter of Shetland, and waves from the Atlantic competed with waves from the North Sea. The ship’s up/down movement was matched by an all around movement in my inner parts. I could not have been more miserable. Lying flat on my bunk was the worst so I went to the middle of the ferry where people were stretched out on seats and the floor. Apparently, so the gift shop assistant told me, they did that because the central area pitched less than the bow or stern. Maybe it did ‘less’ but still a lot. “Never mind,” the assistant tried to comfort me, “trawlermen also get sick on the ferry because it doesn’t pitch enough.” I was not comforted.

Back in my cabin, and foolishly lying down again, my stomach churned. Suddenly I knew I was about to bring up my delightful wedding reception meal. I rushed to the small ensuite bathroom, but the door was locked. My Christian friend was emptying everything he’d eaten that day. Now desperate, I ran into the corridor where there were toilets for passengers without ensuite facilities. I saw the word ‘toilet’, went straight in, and was sick on an almighty scale into a sink. Only after I got back to my cabin did I realise I hadn’t checked whether I’d entered the toilet for men or the toilet for women.

The rest of that night I lay sleepless on my bunk except when I was being sick. Around 1.30 in the morning, the two oil workers returned from the bar. Both were clearly very drunk. So drunk, they collapsed on their bunks, immediately fell asleep and stayed asleep until the ship docked in Aberdeen harbour. The oil men that morning were bright and cheery. I was not. Alison met me from the ferry, and said she’d never seen me look so ill. All I could reply was, “It would have been easier if I’d been drunk”.

I didn’t actually wish I’d been drunk, but I couldn’t escape the thought that my non-drinking friend and I had no reward for our righteousness. The oil men had a peaceful night. Our night was a horror story. It didn’t seem fair.

The hard truth is that doing what’s right doesn’t guarantee an easier life.

The writer of Psalm 73 in the Bible didn’t hesitate to complain to God that the wicked “have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong.They are free from common human burdens; they are not plagued by human ills” (vs. 4-5). While he has kept his heart pure, the wicked have amassed great wealth (vs. 12-13). Later in his psalm, he does recognise that the final destiny of the wicked will be ruinous, but his earlier words are comfortingly honest, that those who live to please themselves may have an easy life, with none of the sacrifices faced by those who try to do what’s right.

So, let’s recognise a few realities.

First, this world often seems unfair. People cheat – such as some students at school or university with assignments or exams – and too many are not found out. Applicants for top jobs submit their résumé or CV (curriculum vitae) claiming qualifications they have never earned. Mistakes at work are covered up. Tax claims are falsified or earnings hidden. The owner of a garage told me I would be entitled to a big discount on my car repairs if I paid with cash rather than cheque. Naïvely I asked how that could be. “It’s simple” the garage owner said. “If you pay with cash we can avoid the value added tax.” I quickly replied that I couldn’t do that since I was a church minister. “Yes, I know you’re a minister,” he said. “That’s why I thought you might appreciate a discount.” I smiled, but he was proposing fraud. I paid by cheque.

There is a cost – sometimes literally – from being honest, truthful and virtuous. It has always been like that, and it’s never likely to change.

Second, short-term advantage can, however, lead to long-term disaster. I recall being asked to check if someone had actually held the university posts he claimed on a job application. I did find out – he had never held any of those posts. Not only was that applicant not appointed to the position he now sought, news of his deceit inevitably spread far and wide. His dishonesty meant he’d never be employed at a senior level.

Cheating can reach the level of bizarre. One of the most flagrant and now notorious cases concerns George Santos who was elected to the US House of Representatives from a New York congressional district in 2023. News reporters then researched Santos’ background. What they found differed significantly from his own story. He had lied about his education, past employment, business activities, earnings and wealth, and not disclosed his criminal history, nor that he was facing lawsuits. Just before the end of 2023 the House of Representatives voted 311 to 114 to expel Santos. In August the next year, he pleaded guilty to identity theft and wire fraud, and was sentenced to 87 months in prison. On the day of his sentence, John J. Durham, United States Attorney for the Eastern District of New York, said this: “Today, George Santos was finally held accountable for the mountain of lies, theft, and fraud he perpetrated. For the defendant, it was judgment day, and for his many victims including campaign donors, political parties, government agencies, elected bodies, his own family members, and his constituents, it is justice.”[4] Santos was jailed but a few months later President Donald Trump commuted his sentence and he was released. He had freedom from prison, but no freedom from a ruined reputation.

Another reputation – that of David, King over Israel and Judah – was ruined around 1000 years BC. While walking on the roof of his palace late one evening, David saw a beautiful woman called Bathsheba bathing in her nearby home. Her husband, Uriah, had been gone for some time, fighting in David’s army. Filled with desire, David sent for Bathsheba and they had sex. Later she discovered that she was pregnant and let David know. The King’s secret affair would soon not be a secret. Trying to cover his tracks, David had Uriah brought back from the front line, supposedly to report on the progress of the fighting but actually so he would go home and have sex with his wife. But Uriah’s sense of honour would not let him make love to his wife while his fellow soldiers were camped on a battle field. David was now desperate. He gave Uriah a sealed letter to take back to the army commander. That letter was Uriah’s death sentence, because it ordered the commander to put Uriah where the upcoming battle would be fiercest, and then withdraw support from him so Uriah was stranded and killed. It happened: Uriah was abandoned during the battle and died. David, an adulterer and now a murderer, breathed a sigh of relief. But not for long. Through a prophet, David’s sin became known, resulting in great trouble during the rest of his reign. His sin was also recorded in the Jewish scriptures and then in the whole Bible, where we can read about it today (in 2 Samuel, ch.s 11-12). David indulged his lust for Bathsheba, but one night of pleasure led to one of the world’s worst stories of illicit sex and murder being read everywhere for some three millennia.

Doing something wrong for short-term gain rarely ends well.

Third, honouring your beliefs and principles is always right. In a previous blog post I described a personal experience.


The UK runs a national census in every year that ends in a ‘1’. The census is done now by answering questions online but in earlier years everyone filled out census forms. In one of those past ‘1’ years, I was a student looking for summer employment and got hired to help deal with the millions of census forms. My job was in a very large warehouse, almost entirely filled with shelving holding boxes of forms. A small team of ‘experts’ sat at one end coding each answer for entry into the rudimentary computer system used back then. I was a much more lowly file-picker. All I did every day was take an order for a batch of files, find their boxes among the shelves, and transport them by push-trolley to the coders. When the coders were finished with them, I put them back on the shelves. It was brain-numbingly boring work. But they paid me to do it, so I was grateful to have the job.

A fellow file-picker told me one day that when he was given an order to bring a batch of files, he was told not to use a trolley, just bring them one box at a time and walk slowly. He thought it hilarious that he was ordered to take as long as possible to do his job. I didn’t think it funny, just strange, perhaps too strange to be true. Until one of the bosses gave me virtually the same instruction: to fetch files but not to use a trolley and to take my time.

Eventually the explanation dawned on me. It wasn’t just the file-pickers who were temps; so were the coders and so were many of the bosses. Almost everyone working in that warehouse had a financial interest in their job lasting as long as possible, hence a secret ‘go-slow’ policy.

That first time I carried the files one by one to the coders and back to the shelves. And I did it the next day. But then I couldn’t do it any more. This was wrong, just wrong. Deliberately slow work cheated the top officers who needed census results processed promptly, cheated the tax payers who were paying my wages, and, for me as a Christian, I felt I was cheating God by not giving my best. I didn’t sleep well that night; I knew what I had to do next morning. I got my first order for files, went to the shelves, offloaded the boxes on to a trolley, and wheeled it to the coders. Later I did the same in reverse to put them back on the shelves. I kept doing that through the day. No-one said anything.

But they did the day after. I got an order for files, and found my way to their location in the centre of the ‘stacks’. Two file-picker colleagues were waiting there for me. One pinned me against the shelving, while both of them made their views very clear. ‘You do what you want to do, but you’d better not show us up by how you do it.’ I can’t reproduce the hostile tone they used, and I haven’t included the words beginning with ‘f’ and ‘b’ that littered their warning. With a last shove they let me go, and disappeared. It was a moment of decision. But the only decision I could make was to be true to myself. I had to live what I believed, and that was to do the job right. Which I did, day after day. And, as with most bullies, the file-pickers didn’t go through with their threats.

Living with a clear conscience, living as you believe you should – it’s the only way to feel good about yourself, to honour others and God, and to get a good night’s sleep.  [From https://occasionallywise.com/2021/03/27/be-true-to-yourself/]

That was a trial-of-principles moment for me. It was hard at the time but it strengthened my determination to always be true to what I believe is right.

But no trial of mine can be compared to the choice which faced Polycarp.[5]

Polycarp was Bishop of the church in Smyrna, a city in Asia Minor (modern Izmir in Turkey), around 160 AD, a time when Christians were distrusted and hated in the Roman Empire. They would not submit to the rule of the emperor as a divine figure, nor would they sacrifice to the Roman gods, so Christians were considered guilty of disloyalty and treason. Many died for their faith.

Bishop Polycarp was an old man, old enough to have known and followed the Apostle John. His age did not save him from persecution. He was told to burn incense to the Roman emperor or he would die. He refused and he was arrested. Polycarp knew what lay ahead for him, but said: “86 years have I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?”[6]

Dragged into an arena, the Proconsul warned Polycarp he would be torn by wild animals if he would not recant his faith. Polycarp was unmoved. Then, the Proconsul said, you will be burned at the stake. Wood and bundles of sticks were heaped up. Soldiers stood ready to nail Polycarp to the stake so he could not flee when the fire was lit. Polycarp stopped them: “Leave me as I am, for he that gives me strength to endure the fire, will enable me not to struggle, without the help of your nails.” The fire was lit and blazed furiously. Polycarp stood still, and somehow – by a miracle observers said – the flames burned around Polycarp but did him no harm. But he could not be allowed to live, so an executioner was ordered to stab Polycarp to death, which he did, and his dead body was later burned by the Roman authorities.

Not many have been as true to their beliefs as Polycarp was. His remarkable example is of someone determined to be firm in his faith, no matter how dreadful the consequences.

In conclusion, then, it’s easy to opt for the easy life, doing what everyone else does. You don’t upset anyone. You don’t get into trouble. But can you live with yourself doing that? Suppressing the truth deep in your soul? Abandoning your principles just to be safe, just to be comfortable? It’s not right, and the benefits don’t last.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor, could not accept Nazi ideology, could not go along with the crowd as many others did. Alexei Navalny could not keep quiet about the way his beloved Russia was being governed. Both dared to oppose their nation’s rulers, knowing that might mean paying the ultimate price. Bonhoeffer was hanged only a few months before World War II ended. Navalny died in a remote Arctic prison colony in February 2024. Neither saw their dreams fulfilled, but their example, their refusal to abandon their beliefs, has inspired thousands, probably millions.

Jesus said: “… wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it” (Matthew 7:13). Don’t be part of the crowd on that road.

[1] There are more than 790 islands off the mainland of Scotland, but only 93 of these are inhabited. The islands can be grouped into four main clusters: the Inner Hebrides and the Outer Hebrides to the north west, the Orkney Islands and the Shetland Islands to the north.

[2] In midsummer, after 19 hours of daylight, Shetland experiences the ‘simmer dim’ – described this way: “Simmer dim refers to the time around midsummer, when after the sun has set, light lingers. It is neither daylight or darkness, but an uncanny in-between time, an extended twilight blurring the boundaries between day and night.” https://www.shetland.org/blog/midsummer-in-shetland

[3] For more information about Shetland, I recommend this website: https://www.shetland.org/about

[4] U.S. Attorney’s Office, Eastern District of New York: https://www.justice.gov/usao-edny/pr/ex-congressman-george-santos-sentenced-87-months-prison-wire-fraud-and-aggravated

[5] The details which follow about the death of Polycarp were in a letter called The Martyrdom of Polycarp sent by eye-witnesses of the martyrdom to churches in the surrounding area.

[6] It is hard to be sure if Polycarp meant he was 86 years old, or that 86 years had passed since his conversion to follow Christ.

A life that is centred

‘Edith was a little country bounded on the north, south, east, and west by Edith’.[1] That short sentence perfectly describes people who are egocentric, self-focused, or self-obsessed. I’ve known some like that: in love with themselves, and all too sure their wants are more important than anyone else’s needs.

Of course self-focused people have their lives centred, just very badly centred. Everything is about them. Others exist, but they’re useful only to serve number one’s desires. The self-focused are like cats, because, as the old saying goes, ‘You don’t own a cat – it owns you, and your only role is to serve the cat.’ I don’t mind that cats think like that; I’m deeply troubled when people do.

So, what is an alternative way of thinking about a life that is centred other than on self?

My answers will relate to questions like these: Who am I? Why am I here? What is my value? How should I live? How should I treat others? Those deep questions have been discussed and debated by very wise people for more years than history has recorded. I can’t match history’s greatest sages but here are my short answers to those questions.

Who am I?

I am created and loved by God; brought to birth in this world; given health and strength; privileged with education, relationship and work opportunities; helped to survive dark times; forgiven for my foolishness; surrounded by people who love and support me; blessed with a positive spirit; and grateful that I can still do good for myself and others.

That is my personal summary. I will have overstated some things, and likely left out important other things. But it’s how I see myself. Because I am a unique individual, someone else is bound to summarise their life differently.

What this happy and secure life has given me is a solid foundation. How I think of everything around me is infused with promise. The world is full of possibilities. People have potential. Change brings opportunities. The future can be better than the past. Misfortunes can be turned to advantage.

Most of the time, that positive view of my life means I am not focused inwardly but outwardly. I have been blessed, not just for my sake but so I can use my energy, gifts and opportunities to help this world become more like the world it was meant to be. I have no excuses for failing.

Why am I here?

I hear interviewers ask people ‘What do you most want in life?’ and a typical answer is ‘I just want to be happy’. That’s what ‘Edith’ would say, because personal happiness is a self-serving goal, as if everything and everyone should bring the interviewee pleasure and prosperity.

I’ve never believed that I exist to serve myself. At least, I hope not. Yes, I’ve had ambitions. I left home aged 16 to train as a journalist in Edinburgh, convinced that I would become one of the nation’s most brilliant reporters and broadcasters. Modesty was not my highest virtue. But the dream was never about my fame. The passion was to report news, share truth, give perspective, and perhaps to influence government and society. A few years later my career choice changed, and life went in a wholly different direction because I felt God wanted me in Christian ministry. I studied for many years, and then my roles became church ministry to hundreds of people, then heading up a mission agency bringing hope and help to tens of thousands, then being President of a seminary preparing gifted people to serve in caring and pastoral work right across America. Whatever the role, I consistently focused on serving others, not myself. That was my aim and I hope it still is.

So, why am I here? Not for myself, nor for any of the ordinary things people covet for themselves like fame, money, prestige, comfort or pleasure. If I’d continued in journalism – where I was doing well – I could have had these things. But they are superficial and fleeting possessions. You can’t take them with you beyond the grave. I chose to spend my time, energy and gifts on others.

What is my value?

If you enter ‘How to assess someone’s value?’ into a search engine, most of the answers you get will relate to what a person does – the career they’re following, the positions in business or politics they hold, the changes they are bringing to their community, how they visit the sick or campaign for human rights. Or any other of many activities.

But what we do should not be the primary answer about our value. Utility – usefulness – is an inadequate way of measuring any kind of value. The most expensive painting in the world is considered to be Salvator Mundi by Leonardo da Vinci – it sold for US $450.3 million in 2017. It is truly magnificent but also a completely inanimate object. Do people admire it? Yes. But ask what the painting does? The answer is nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet it’s considered to be of high value.

My point is that value should not be assessed only in terms of usefulness or productivity. In particular, a person’s worth should never be calculated that way. We have value independent of our work, our social standing, educational qualifications, achievements, race or gender. That truth lies behind Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights”.[2] I have value. You have value. Simply because of who you are, you have value.

From my Christian perspective, that value is ultimately because I am made by God. These verses in the Bible from Psalm 139 are very special:

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be. (vs.13-16)

What remarkable imagery: God knitting us in our mother’s wombs and weaving us together in the depths of the earth. And awesome to be described as ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’. How could I ever imagine I lacked value?

How should I live?

This is a tricky question, but only if we try to answer it with one moral theory supposedly applicable to everyone, no matter their background, culture, beliefs and context. Instead, it’s reasonable to suppose most people know instinctively what’s right and what’s wrong.

From ancient to modern times there have been many lists of right actions. Here are two, one from a philosopher and the other from an apostle.

In 1930 philosopher David Ross wrote down seven prima facie duties – things which he believed were self-evidently right to do. Here’s his list with explanations of what he meant:

  1. Fidelity – keeping a promise; not misrepresenting history.
  2. Reparation – putting right what you did wrong in your past.
  3. Gratitude – appreciating and expressing thanks for what others have done for you.
  4. Justice – making sure people get what they deserve.
  5. Beneficence – Using our skills or resources to give others a better life.
  6. Self-improvement – improving our character, learning, or skills to fulfil our potential.
  7. Non-maleficence – not injuring others, such as by violent acts, or verbal assaults like unfairly criticising or shaming. [3]

Ross’s list made good sense, but he was criticised because he believed all these were knowable simply by intuition. His critics pointed out that intuitions vary depending on past experience, beliefs, outlook, and values. And that’s true. But what’s also true is that all moral judgments – however they arise – vary based on background and experience.

I like Ross’s list, and I admire his courage in publishing it. But I’d probably add a few other virtues such as humility, peace-making and courage.

In a letter which now appears in the New Testament, the Apostle Paul wrote a list of the fruits of the Spirit. These nine ‘fruits‘ are also a wonderful guide to the kind of people we should be:

22…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control.  (Galatians, 5: 22-23)

Live so these ‘fruits of the Spirit’ control your thoughts and actions, and you will not only bless others but know inner peace too.

As I said, there are other lists of virtues or commandments. The fact is that there’s no great mystery about knowing what’s right. There is, I admit, a great difficulty in consistently doing what’s right.

How should I treat others?

My father had a very long career with the Post Office, but only a very short time serving customers at Post Office counters. He hated that job intensely. The work was not difficult, but the customers were. Many of those who stood before Dad imagined one or both of two things: 1) that somehow they’d be cheated during their transaction; 2) that by being angry and aggressive they’d get prompt and better service. Dad experienced insult, abuse and distrust every day, so he would trudge home after work feeling miserable. Before long, though, he moved upwards in Post Office management, which meant relocating to backroom offices. Now he was at peace because no longer was he made miserable by miserable customers.

Wuthering Heights is the only novel by the English author Emily Brontë.[4] For me it was a hard read. I kept waiting for happy stories, but happiness is not common in Wuthering Heights. Much of the misery surrounds the main character, Heathcliff. Here is how Brontë describes Heathcliff:

“… his naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness; and he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintances.”

That does not describe a person anyone would want to know. Brontë said Heathcliff’s character had an excess of ‘moroseness’. My dictionary defines moroseness as “the state or quality of being ill-tempered, gloomy, and unwilling to speak or smile. It describes a sullen, moody, and resentful disposition.”

Heathcliff bathed in misery, bloody-mindedness, and contentiousness, freely spreading his gloom to all around, contributing almost nothing to the happiness of others.

The lives of people like that are centred very badly. Their disposition is firmly ill-natured and ill-humoured, primed by resentment, distrust, and hostility. They assume their luck is always bad, that they are constantly treated unfairly, and that their future will be one of disappointment. Bitterness and anger have moved their thinking, expectation, and experience into a dark and hostile place, and they now interpret every word spoken and every action taken as opposition or antagonism towards them. What a sad way to live.

Their lives do not have to be like that.

The first step to wholeness and happiness begins with recognising your view of the world is distorted. You see everyone and everything as hostile, unreasonable, and difficult. The second step is believing, or at least hoping, it may not always be like that. The third step is identifying things and people who are lovely, kind and good. Start with recognising the beauty of a flower, a sunset, or the adoration of a dog. Or appreciating that someone accepts you unconditionally, helping you without seeking anything in return, Or acknowledging that your life has had advantages, good events, and what lies ahead could be wonderful. The fourth step is determining to live positively, believing that good can happen, and finding happiness and contentment whatever your circumstances. Take all four steps, and your life will have been re-centred in a way that brings joy to self and others.

I’ll finish by describing a recent event. I heard the sound of running. Someone was coming up fast from behind. Before I could turn, a figure raced past me and careered on down the side of the hill. Thankfully I recognised my friend Mac, almost off his feet as he raced down the steep slope. He didn’t stop, maybe couldn’t stop, but ran and ran until the slope eased and he slowed and finally came to a halt. Then, out of breath, Mac looked from side to side, as if wondering ‘What am I doing down here?’ or ‘Where am I now?’ A bit late to be asking those questions, I thought to myself.

But Mac – my dog – isn’t brilliant at planning.[5] I often wonder what Mac is thinking, or even if he’s thinking at all. Perhaps his only ambition that day had been to run down the hill. Where would that take him? What would he do next? Not questions Mac had considered. I would advise all of us to know our answers to those questions, along with the five I’ve posed here: Who am I? Why am I here? What is my value? How should I live? How should I treat others? Find the answers, live in the light of them, and your life will be well centred.

[1] The words are quoted by H.E. Fosdick, 1943, On Being a Real Person. The description of Edith comes from novelist Martha Ostenso, “Gardenias in Her Hair,” Pictorial Review 38 (September 1937): 84. Fosdick was a famous American pastor and writer. He died in 1969, aged 91.

[2] The full Declaration can be read here: https://www.un.org/en/udhrbook/pdf/udhr_booklet_en_web.pdf

[3] These prima facie duties are to be found on pages 21-22 in Ross, W. David. 1930. ‘The Right and the Good’. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

[4] Wuthering Heights was initially published in 1847. To hide female authorship it appeared under Brontë’s pen name “Ellis Bell”.

[5] I wrote about Mac before when describing ‘unconditional love’: https://occasionallywise.com/2021/01/23/unconditional-love/

Keep on keeping on

Who recorded this entry in their autobiography?

Well, my book was finally written. The next thing was to find a publisher. I typewrote it myself, on my old secondhand typewriter that never made the capitals plain and wouldn’t print “w” at all, and I sent it to a new American firm that had recently come to the front with several “best sellers.” I thought I might stand a better chance with a new firm than with an old established one that had already a preferred list of writers. But the new firm very promptly sent it back. Next I sent it to one of the “old, established firms” and the old established firm sent it back. Then I sent it, in turn, to three “Betwixt-and-between firms”, and they all sent it back. Four of them returned it with a cold, printed note of rejection; one of them “damned with faint praise.” They wrote that “Our readers report that they find some merit in your story, but not enough to warrant its acceptance.”

That finished me. I put **** away in an old hat-box in the clothes room, resolving that some day when I had time I would take her and reduce her to the original seven chapters of her first incarnation. In that case I was tolerably sure of getting thirty-five dollars for her at least, and perhaps even forty.

The manuscript lay in the hatbox until I came across it one winter day while rummaging. I began turning over the leaves, reading a bit here and there. It didn’t seem so very bad. “I’ll try once more,” I thought. The result was that a couple of months later an entry appeared in my journal to the effect that my book had been accepted. After some natural jubilation I wrote: “The book may or may not succeed. I wrote it for love, not money, but very often such books are the most successful, just as everything in the world that is born of true love has life in it, as nothing constructed for mercenary ends can ever have.

“Well, I’ve written my book! The dream dreamed years ago at that old brown desk in school has come true at last after years of toil and struggle. And the realization is sweet, almost as sweet as the dream.”

If you’re struggling to identify the writer, here are a few clues: Canadian, female, born 1874, died 1942, the four letter word I’ve hidden with stars **** is the first name of her best-known character, and that character famously insisted the last letter of her name was an ‘e’.

By now many will have realised the book being talked about is Anne of Green Gables. It was the first and the most famous work of Lucy Maud Montgomery.

L.M. Montgomery’s book was published in 1908. It has sold more than 50 million copies, and been translated into at least 36 languages. Anne of Green Gables is usually mentioned when people are listing the best-sellers of all time in all languages. After success with Anne, Montgomery wrote many more books.[1] Some were sequels to Anne of Green Gables, though by 1920 Montgomery recorded in her journal that she was tired of Anne as a character. In all she penned 20 novels, over 500 short stories, an autobiography, and a book of poetry. Not bad.

But what if Lucy Maud Montgomery had never retrieved that first manuscript from her hatbox? What if she’d been so discouraged by publishers’ refusals that she had never sent it to the Page Company of Boston, Massachusetts? But she did send it, and Anne’s appeal to both children and adults was recognised. The rest is literary history.

A modern day parallel to Montgomery’s publishing experience involves another female writer, J.K. Rowling.[2] She finished writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone in June 1995, and was accepted as a client by a noted literary agency. But her fantasy novel was then turned down by 12 publishers. Finally, it was bought by Bloomsbury Publishing because the head of the firm let his young daughter read the manuscript, and saw how she kept wanting to read chapter after chapter. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997, the first of seven volumes in the Harry Potter series which has sold over 600 million copies, been translated into 84 languages, and made into successful films.

There are two immediate lessons from the experiences of these women. One, even the most famous writers have endured multiple disappointments when their work has been rejected. Two, many publishers must weep over best-sellers they could have accepted but didn’t.

For me, the most impressive lesson is that these two wonderful women writers didn’t give up. They kept on keeping on, and eventually found success. They persevered.

Perseverance is an important character trait. I looked up perseverance in my thesaurus for words of similar meaning, and got this entry: constancy, dedication, determination, doggedness, endurance, indefatigability, persistence, purposefulness, resolution, sedulity, stamina, steadfastness, tenacity.

So, exploring the theme of keep on keeping on, I’ll expand on some of the words my thesaurus gave me, hoping that will help us understand the value of perseverance.

Purposefulness

During the time I was a reporter in the Glasgow office of a national newspaper, one of the journalists retired after working there for 40 years. The staff gathered round, speeches were made, glasses were raised, and parting gifts were given. Then the elderly reporter left, and everyone else returned to work on their stories.

On the Monday following, the team were back at work, and, to everyone’s surprise, the retired journalist was back too. And he was there on the Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. And every day after that. Our former colleague simply couldn’t cope with sitting around at home with no purpose for each day. Once it was obvious he’d keep coming to the office, the news editor let him report on minor stories. Which he did for many months.

We all need purpose in our lives. It may come from paid work, or from family, study, caring for others, from a compelling sport or hobby, community projects, or many other things. There is a strong drive to keep doing what gives us purpose.

A motivating purpose is an essential element of perseverance. In 1924 George Mallory made his third attempt to reach Everest’s summit. If he succeeded, he’d be the first to stand on top of the world’s highest mountain. It was his life’s goal. Mallory – and his climbing partner, Andrew (Sandy) Irvine – knew there was a high risk of failure and death. So, in his final letter to his wife Ruth, Mallory wrote, “It is 50 to 1 against us but we’ll have a whack yet & do ourselves proud”. Soon after, Mallory and Irvine disappeared in the mist, and it has never been known for sure whether or not they reached Everest’s summit. (Their bodies were finally discovered only in 1999 and 2024.) Maybe they were right to try; maybe they should not. But, imbued with a driving purpose, they felt they must make one final attempt, whatever the consequence.

Perseverance and purpose are inextricably linked together.

Stamina

I have painful and humbling memories from the school day when the P.E. teacher told us to run four laps of the athletic track. I started well, by which I mean only that I almost kept up with everyone else during lap one. Lap two wasn’t as good, but I got round it without completely losing sight of the leaders. My mental and physical agony began on the third lap. For one thing the leaders were going past me on their fourth lap. For another thing I had a near disabling pain in my side, and my legs were getting heavier with every stride. My humiliation and suffering peaked on lap four. Clearly someone had secretly attached invisible lead weights to my legs, because now they refused any signal from my brain to go faster. I kept telling my legs to run, but they weren’t listening. In fact running was now no more than a dream. All I could do was drag my legs forward, one painful step after another. I never finished. I just didn’t have what it takes to run four laps of that track.

What was missing was stamina. I had a purpose, a goal to get round all four laps as quickly as possible. But neither my head nor my body could supply the staying power to keep running.

The inability to last the course is disturbingly common. I’ve watched marathon races in both London and Chicago. The elite runners did really well. The good runners kept striving for PBs (personal best times). But then, long after most, came the mass of marathon one-timers. For too many of them, training had been little more than occasional runs around their local park, which was seriously inadequate preparation for a 26.2 mile (42km) race. They failed, some because they hadn’t prepared their bodies, and others because they had never really believed they could run the distance, and therefore gave up as soon as they experienced pain.

Similarly, I’ve seen work colleagues give up on complex tasks. When they couldn’t find answers immediately, they didn’t keep trying; they just abandoned the project. I’ve known dog owners take their puppies to obedience classes, but completely fail later to continue the disciplines with their dog. One owner shrugged his shoulders and muttered “the training didn’t work”. Wrong. The owner didn’t work. He didn’t keep applying the lessons until the dog really knew what to do. He should have kept trying, kept persevering. But he didn’t. He lacked stamina, an essential element for reaching any important goal.

Constancy

I like this word. Dictionaries define it with synonyms and phrases like ‘faithfulness’, ‘fidelity’, ‘loyalty’, ‘dependability’, ‘endurance’, ‘steadfastness of mind under duress’, ‘quality of being unchanging’. In short, constancy describes the character of someone who sticks to their task, who can be depended on not to give up, who won’t be swayed by persuasion, problems, or even occasional failures. They will do what they said they will do.

Angie was like that. She wasn’t the brightest or the quickest, but give Angie a job to do and she’d work away quietly and steadily and produce good results. I never had to worry that she wouldn’t be thorough, or that she’d give up. Angie just kept going and did her work well. Colleagues like Angie were priceless.

I’ve had friends like that, people who were far more than just casual acquaintances. They supported me through the hardest of times, knew my mistakes but didn’t judge me, and they stuck with me for the long-term when others would have given up. I knew I could trust my life to friends like that. Constancy very well describes the quality I saw in them.

Sedulity

I admit I didn’t know the word ‘sedulity’ so I looked it up. The dictionary defines sedulity as ‘the quality or fact of being careful and using a lot of effort’. Two key aspects of perseverance are highlighted in that definition.

One is about being careful. Perseverance does not legitimise persisting with unwise or unrealistic projects. I know of someone who applied for a new line of work, and wrote that he knew the new role must be right for him because every career choice he’d made before had come to nothing. I can’t imagine why he thought writing that in his application would help. Maybe he imagined that his persistence in trying was a quality, or that by discovering what was not right for him, his latest choice must be the one that was right for him. Those considering his application did not agree. The applicant showed perseverance, but no evidence of being careful about either his career choices or his standard of work.  

Sedulity also means working hard. An oft-used phrase is ‘when the going gets tough, the tough get going’. That’s clever but too trite. However, there is some truth in it. In my mid-20s, I was employed by a local council’s education department to organise school buses for children who lived beyond walking distance from their schools. (Note for North America friends: school bussing in the UK is done by contracts with private bus or coach firms, not by owning a fleet of buses.) I began by studying the established routes which for many years had been put out for bids to contractors. They made no sense to me. The most blatant nonsense was that no children lived on some of those routes. At one time they had, but not now. I talked to the bosses of the bus firms, and then understood what had happened over the years. Keeping track of children needing transport was problematic – new children moved into the area; around age 12 children switched from primary to secondary schools; older children finished schooling; some elected to go to other schools; others just moved out of our area. It was complex. So complex that my predecessors in the job just accepted it was a muddle, put out the same routes year after year and left the bus owners to make the best of the bad information. They did what they could, but the system wasn’t right and wasn’t efficient. Buses went down ‘empty’ routes, and other kids got no transport. That was no way to serve families or run a budget-hungry service. Working with the schools, I tracked who needed the service now, plotted routes on maps, and then sent out the detailed routes for tenders. The new system worked, much to the relief of parents, schools and (mostly) the contractors. Perseverance often requires digging in to complicated and awkward issues, and working for as long as it takes to sort them out.

Dedication 

This is another word I like. It carries meanings like devotedness, faithfulness, loyalty and commitment. No-one ‘keeps keeping on’ without those qualities.

The story of dedication I grew up with in Scotland, and also known around the world, is not about a person’s devotion but a dog’s – Greyfriars Bobby. Here’s a short version of Bobby’s story.

In the 1850s, in Scotland’s capital city of Edinburgh, John Gray kept himself out of the workhouse by being hired as a night watchman with the city’s police force. His partner through cold winter nights was his small Skye Terrier, Bobby. Night after night, they were an inseparable pair as they walked Edinburgh’s cobbled streets together. But those hard nights damaged John’s health, and he died of tuberculosis in 1858, and was buried in the small cemetery surrounding Greyfriars Kirk (church). After the funeral service in the churchyard, everyone left. Except Bobby. From then on, day and night, and whatever the weather, Bobby stayed by his master’s grave. A graveyard gardener eventually put sacking between two adjacent ‘tablestones’ (gravestones mounted horizontally about 30 inches (76 cm) off the ground) so Bobby had shelter. And a local joiner persuaded Bobby to go with him to a coffee house each day where Bobby was given a meal. When a city law was passed that all dogs must have a licence or be destroyed, the Lord Provost paid for Bobby’s licence and gave him a unique collar attesting to that. For 14 years Bobby kept watch over his master’s grave, and then he died in 1872. The following year a granite fountain with a sculpture of Bobby was erected near the entrance to the Greyfriars Kirkyard. It is still there, and has this inscription: “A tribute to the affectionate fidelity of GREYFRIARS BOBBY. In 1858 this faithful dog followed the remains of his master to Greyfriars Churchyard and lingered near to the spot until his death in 1872”.[1]

The life size statue to Greyfriars Bobby.
Michael Reeve, CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons

Bobby’s dedication to his master was remarkable. Similarly, people who persevere must be devoted, loyal, and committed. How dedication is shown depends on circumstances, but no-one will keep keeping on without it. Just these words in closing. Too often these days we want everything now or to get them without effort. Governments are supposed to deliver results from the day they’re elected. Employees are meant to plan and deliver projects without delay. Things we want to buy we buy now, whether or not we have the money. Relationships – including marriages – are supposed to be wonderful for ever without pain or strain. But reality is different. The best accomplishments require time and work. That means they require perseverance, which includes the qualities listed above. Keep on keeping on. It’s worth it.

[1] A favourite of mine is Rilla of Ingleside, a story centred on Rilla (a short form of Marilla), the youngest child of Anne. The book is the eighth and last in the Anne of Green Gables series.

[2] It is interesting that both Montgomery and Rowling used initials and not first names for their books. Montgomery had adopted that practice with short stories she wrote before ‘Anne’. It was a common custom at the time for women writers to hide their gender. Rowling was born Joanne Rowling. But her publisher urged her to have a gender-neutral pen name, so she added Kathleen as a middle name and used the initials J.K. She was working for Amnesty International in London when she began writing the Harry Potter series.

[3] Though I’ve known the story of Greyfriars Bobby since childhood, my summary here is based on the record made by Historic UK: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofScotland/Greyfriars-Bobby/

When Jesus was a refugee

The hand on the woman’s shoulder was gentle, yet firm enough to stir her from deep sleep. “Mary,” the man said, “please wake up”. The room was in complete darkness. Only the familiar voice quelled Mary’s instinct to panic.

“Joseph, why are you awake? What’s happening? It must be the middle of the night,” she said.

“It is, and we need to pack what we can, take our son, and leave right now.”

“Joseph, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Where are we going and why must we leave now? Just come back to bed. We can talk this through in the morning.”

Joseph’s voice did not waver. “No, Mary. Please trust me. We must gather our things and be well on our way before daylight. If not, our son’s life will be at risk.”

There was no more argument. Mary rose, and by nothing more than the light of one candle, she and Joseph gathered clothes, blanket, food, and their few special possessions. Finally, they lifted Jesus from his bed, made soothing noises to keep him quiet, left the first home they’d known as a family, and set off into the cold night air.

Joseph, of course, will have given Mary further details as they trekked through the darkness, explaining what had happened to move him to such urgent action. The gospel writer Matthew describes it this way: “an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. ‘Get up,’ he said, ‘take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.’” (2: 13)

Mary was startled. Who wouldn’t be? To set off by night on a long and dangerous journey because of a dream? Going to another country with no definite destination? Yet, so much in recent years for Mary had been strange, especially her own encounter with an angel who told her she’d bear God’s child. (Luke 1: 26-38)

But this? A sudden rush into the night? Fleeing the country? Hiding their child from soldiers ordered to kill him? Questions, many questions. But no refusal by Mary. Out into the night they went as a family, and headed for safety in Egypt.

The courage, faith and resilience of both these parents is remarkable. Down the centuries, Mary has rightly been recognised for her submission to God. “I am the Lord’s servant… May your word to me be fulfilled,” she answered the angel who spoke to her. (Luke 1: 38) Mary was a woman of faith. And so was Joseph. His obedience in marrying Mary must have damaged his reputation. Yet he didn’t hesitate. Nor does he hesitate now, as he gets Mary and Jesus on the road to safety in another country.

Taking turns to carry Jesus, Joseph and Mary walked and walked. Step after weary step they trudged south. Even the shortest distance to the border was about 40 miles (64 km). But they needed to go further than that, probably at least 50 or 60 miles to reach a city where they wouldn’t be noticed among the throng. With just two carrying the essentials of three, they couldn’t have covered more than 10 miles a day. Nor, while still in Judea, could they risk staying at an inn because someone might tell Herod’s soldiers that a family from Bethlehem with a young boy was there. So, each night, the three likely huddled under a blanket at the side of the road. It would be cold, uncomfortable and very dangerous. Travellers were favourite targets for wayside robbers, and they could be as vicious as Herod’s men.

Day after day they put one foot in front of the other, always weary on dusty, uneven roads, always uncertain about what lay ahead. They were doing exactly what they’d been told to do, but that didn’t ease aching feet or quell anxious thoughts. God’s will is rarely easy. Hardship is a frequent landmark on the road of discipleship.

Becoming refugees seemed so wrong, yet it was also significant. Egypt was the convenient and safe refuge for a Judean family in danger. Crossing the border put them beyond Herod’s reach. But genuine refugees – then and now – are vulnerable: often penniless, often homeless, often unfamiliar with the local language, often unable to find work.

But Joseph, Mary and Jesus had one advantage. The road to Egypt has been walked by many Jews before them, often for similar reasons to theirs. At that time, the Egyptian city of Alexandria had over a million Jews; others were elsewhere. So, wherever the little family settled, they would find fellow countrymen, people with similar backgrounds who understood what they were experiencing. Speaking the same language, they would explain customs and laws, and help with accommodation and employment.

But, along with all the practical issues, Joseph and Mary had one troubling thought. They knew Jesus was no ordinary child. Joseph had been told to name him Jesus “because he will save his people from their sins”. (Matt. 1: 21) And Mary was told: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end… the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1:32-33, 35) Both believed those words were from God, and everything that happened at the time of Jesus’ birth and in the months after confirmed their truth. In their care was the Son of God, and they had fled to Egypt to keep him alive.

But, they must have wondered, how can these amazing promises about Jesus be fulfilled if he is in Egypt? Surely God could have protected him back in Judea, but they had been told to flee. Joseph and Mary wanted their son to grow up and fulfil all the prophecies about him. But he couldn’t fulfil them if he was in Egypt.

What the couple could not know was how long they would stay in Egypt, and what reasons, other than physical safety, God had for them being there. They may have assumed there was a straight line for Jesus from his birth through his youth and then to saving people from their sins and reigning over a new kingdom. But God never promises straight lines. When we find our lives in strange places, it may be because our route needed to change so skills could be learned, character developed, wisdom gained, and bad times endured.

Matthew saw one other reason for this strange period in Jesus’ life. A prophecy would be fulfilled when the family finally left Egypt and returned to Judea. He wrote: “And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’” (2: 15) That prophecy first appears in the Old Testament book of Hosea (11: 1) where it refers to God bringing his son, the nation Israel, out of its captivity in Egypt (the Exodus story). Matthew saw how that prophecy also applies to Jesus. God’s Son will come out of Egypt. But, of course, with Jesus it has a greater significance: Israel was the redeemed people God called out of Egypt, but Jesus is the redeemer called out of Egypt.

Then it was time to go home, but that was fraught with danger too. King Herod died. The tyrant who thought nothing of killing babies and toddlers in Bethlehem went to meet his maker. It’s hard to imagine that was a happy meeting.

Now the ruler who wanted to kill Jesus was gone. Again Joseph was spoken to by an angel in a dream. “Get up, take the child and his mother and go…” It was time to return to the land of Israel, “for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.” (2: 20)

Joseph could have argued. The family had settled in Egypt. They had blended in well to the Jewish and Egyptian communities. He had carpentry work. Joseph and Mary had made friends. Jesus had playmates. To live there for longer – perhaps for ever – wasn’t a bad idea.

But it would have been the wrong idea. So Joseph did not debate with the angel. The family sorted out their possessions, and set off north. This time they could travel in daylight, but they knew the journey would still be demanding and dangerous. Though nervous, tired, and uncertain they were also obedient. They had been told to return, so they would. Joseph assumed they’d resettle in Bethlehem in Judea. It was where they’d lived after Jesus was born, and, being a royal city, it was a place appropriate for God’s Messiah.

But there was something Joseph didn’t know. He had assumed that with Herod dead, life in Bethlehem would surely be better and safer now. It wasn’t. It was worse.

Herod had ruled over a sizeable country, but he knew the Romans would not let a successor have so much power. So he had written a will which divided the land after his death between three sons. Herod Philip got the northern region called Trachonitis, Antipas was given Galilee, and the largest area, which included Idumaea, Judea, and Samaria, went to Archelaus. What sent shivers through Joseph was the last of these appointments – that Archelaus now ruled Judea. Why was that a problem? Bethlehem was in Judea. And, if Herod had been evil, Archelaus was twice as evil and twice as vindictive as his father. He wanted no rivals and no contrary voices, so he began his reign by killing 3000 of the most influential people in the land. If Archelaus would eliminate them, and now learned that the child his father had wanted dead was back in Bethlehem, he’d have no scruples about dispatching a murder squad to kill Jesus and probably Joseph and Mary too. Archelaus’ rulership over Judea made it impossible for the family to settle there.

In another dream Joseph was told to take the family even further north. This time their goal was Nazareth in Galilee. That was an extra 90 miles (145 km) over hills and through areas made dangerous by wild animals and thieves. But Nazareth was a familiar place for Joseph and Mary because it’s where they had grown up. And the important point was that Archelaus did not rule there.[1] Nazareth was in Galilee where Antipas was in charge. Though another of Herod’s sons, Antipas was a peaceful and good ruler. In Nazareth, the family were safe.[2] It was the right place for them to raise Jesus to be the man, the Saviour, the Lord he was always meant to be.

Here we (nearly) end the two-part story of the events which occurred after Jesus was born. Part one was the previous blog post about the visit of the wise men, and this one has described how Jesus became a refugee in Egypt, and then returned to his homeland. If you have not read part one, you’ll still find it helpful. You can access it at https://occasionallywise.com/?s=wise+men

From both parts of the story, and from my Christian perspective, I draw several lessons, including these seven.

It is remarkable but important that people from another land came and worshipped Jesus soon after his birth. The divine purpose may have been to show that one day every knee will bow before him (as Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians, 2: 10).

The wise men risked their lives for Jesus by disobeying Herod’s command to reveal his location. Many have done the same since, with some making the ultimate sacrifice for their loyalty.

There  is no shortage of cruelty in the world. The evil of Herod, who had Bethlehem children murdered in an attempt to eliminate Jesus, and later the even greater ruthlessness of his son Archelaus as ruler over Judea, shows just how cold-hearted and brutal human beings can be to harmless and innocent people.

Guidance from God can come in strange, unexpected ways. But, for Joseph, it was always there when he needed it. At no point was the whole plan given to Joseph in advance, but he was always told in time what to do next.

Paths through life have frequent twists and turns. We get scared when plans are forced to change. That’s because we can’t see round corners, but God can and knows exactly what he is doing with our lives.

There’s no guarantee that, even in the centre of God’s will, life will be comfortable. The night when Joseph woke Mary and told her they had to flee, the couple had two choices. One was to stay in Bethlehem where they had settled – but then their little child would be murdered. The other was to get started while it was still dark, take almost nothing with them, and flee for their lives to a foreign land where they had no friends, no place to live, no means of support and did not know the language.

Of course the right choice was to flee. They did that one hundred percent in the middle of God’s will. But, that meant letting go of every shred of comfort and security, and becoming refugees. It’s a myth that doing what God wants will leave us feeling cosy and comfortable. But choosing what’s right, even when it’s tough, is always for the best.

God’s ultimate purposes do get fulfilled. Think how the story from the beginning of the gospel to now could have gone:

  • Mary: stoned to death for getting pregnant outside marriage
  • Joseph, to whom she was engaged, abandoning Mary because he knew he was not the father of her child
  • While they were travelling from Nazareth to Bethlehem, the couple could have been robbed or murdered, or Mary might have gone into labour on a remote hillside
  • Mary and Jesus could have died while she gave birth in a far-from-clinically-clean stable
  • Herod’s murder squad could have found and killed Jesus before they’d had time to escape
  • After they set off at night for Egypt, evil people or wild animals could have killed them and left their bodies at the side of the road
  • When they were settled in Egypt, Joseph might have felt secure, grown weary with moving about, and decided they should stay rather than return to Israel
  • If they had gone back to Judea, the seriously wicked son of Herod – Archelaus – might have murdered the whole family.

But none of that happened. God had a plan for his Son’s life and nothing was going to stop it. That is true also for everyone who belongs to God. Probably our paths through life will not be so dramatic as the path was for Jesus’ family, but we will be every bit as safe in the hands of God.

[1] Unfortunately for Archelaus he had one other flaw – he was hopelessly incompetent, and the Romans deposed and replaced him after just two years.

[2] Nazareth was not a tiny village, but also not a place of great note. It is never mentioned in the Old Testament.