In Every Part

Spiders.  They're like Marmite: you either love 'em or hate 'em.  I make no excuse, I fall into the latter camp.  My cousin is pretty much of the same opinion, and recently put me on to the idea of the ultrasonic pest repellent.  It's wonderful.  You plug it into an electric socket and it emits a constant sound - beyond our hearing range - that 'encourages' the little creatures to move out.  The device comes in multiple packs, not just to sell more of them (although obviously this is also true), but so that you can spread them around your home and avoid protecting one room at the expense of others.

My regular Bible reading led me the other week to Mark 4:3-8, the parable of the soils, sometimes known as the parable of the sower.  It's followed by Jesus' explanation to his disciples just what he was getting at, how the reaction to his Good News differed from one person to another, depending on their circumstances.  One commentary I read led me to an understanding of that parable that hadn't occurred to me before.  

We usually think of those four types of soil as referring to different people; it could apply to different phases through which our life passes, perhaps as our faith develops and we become stronger to overcome other demands on our lives and attentions.  It might also apply to different areas of our lives.  We might, for example, let God guide us as regards our future, or how we behave towards our parents or children, but at the same time be totally closed to ideas of caring for His planet by recycling our waste, or for the poor or disadvantaged people on the other side of the world - or of our own town - by giving to charities that are active in those fields.

One of my weekly habits is to listen to a radio programme, 'Beverley's World of Music'.  It's presenter, Beverley Humphreys, will sometimes follow a piece of music with the comment, "I love those words ..." and she then reads the words of the song we've just heard.  Often I find - and perhaps you do, too - that I've listened to the music and enjoyed it, but haven't registered just what the words say.  The spoken repetition certainly contributes greatly to the overall appreciation of the piece.

When I read that commentary about soils and people, I immediately recalled the first line of a hymn I'd sung long ago, Horatius Bonar's "Fill thou my life, O Lord my God" ... but couldn't remember what came next, so I looked it up.  It's worth applying the 'Humphreys technique' to that hymn, as I did that morning.  It is, in effect, a prayer for an all-pervasive faith: "I ask ... for a life made up of praise in every part", "Let all my being speak of thee and of thy love, O Lord" "So shall ... all my life ... be fellowship with Thee."

Have you, like me, got lots of spiritual spiders that need to be 'encouraged away'?