“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” Matthew 11:28
It was a sunny winter’s day for the first day of the term two holidays, and one thing I know as a Melburnian, you don’t waste a minute of it, so I went for a walk. I usually keep to a regular route which after 5 minutes leads me to an open expanse of gorgeous green paddocks with rolling hills covered in grape vines— it’s there that I breathe, pray and get my head straight. But today I was prompted to do something I don’t normally do; I changed my route.
Now those who know me understand that I’m a creature of habit. I like routine and I feel most at peace when things are organised and all my ducks are in a row. So, when I was prompted to turn right instead of left as I stood at the top of our driveway, I’ll admit I hesitated.
I felt like the apostle Paul in Acts 16:6-7, when he and his companions were “kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia.”
Now let’s keep things in perspective. I was just going for a walk, right? I wasn’t looking to preach a sermon or formulate some spiritual idea for my latest novel, but I was looking for connection, I did want to pray—I wanted to clear my head and do business with God. I sighed, somewhat annoyed at God interrupting my plan and I turned right, wondering where he would take me.
When has God interrupted your plan?
A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9
The street I eventually found myself on was a main road with cars, trucks and noisy motorbikes roaring by, and I became crankier by the minute. Part of the stress was that I’d not travelled this way on foot, so whilst I knew where I was, it wasn’t an area I was intimately familiar with. This was not my idea of peace, and I was grumbling to God. I huffed and puffed my way up a hill, crossed over an intersection, and found myself walking alongside a high and rather uninteresting red-brick wall that ran parallel to the road. I was intrigued about what was behind the brick wall, so I increased my pace till I came upon a set of large, wrought iron gates with the word Cemetery cast into the metal. Alright. I like history, and I’ve occasionally visited the odd cemetery when I was on holiday, but not my local, and not on a prayer walk. I sighed again. Really God? I’d much rather be on my rolling hills and grapevines walk.
Do you ever whinge to God?
Like a rebellious teenager I trudged up the hill to a sign indicating the location of each section. Roman Catholics and Baptists to my left, Church of England and Presbyterians to my right. There were other denominations too, but you get the point. I moved amongst the headstones, some were upright and made of granite or marble, others were flat, concrete graves that lay flush to the ground, and still others were large and ornate, with angelic symbols and gold embossing. But what grabbed my attention was a lone wooden pole rising just over a metre high in an area, set away from the other graves. It was odd and out of place, so I walked over to the spot. On top of the pole was some printed information about an unnamed Chinese man who was a well-known character in the area in the 1860’s. He was reportedly well liked but had little money when he died, so members of the local Anglican Church paid for a small memorial. I found it interesting that this unnamed man had made such an impression on the town’s people that they made sure he was remembered, albeit very simply.
Wasn’t Jesus like that? He prioritised the poor, the widow, the broken-hearted, the foreigner, those on the fringe of society, who didn’t fit in with the mainstream community. If they were important to Jesus, surely centuries later the memory of an unnamed man, marked by a solitary wooden pole, was important to God.
And you’re important to God too.
“Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge.” Matthew 10:29
You are loved and seen by God, and your imprint on this earth makes a difference.
As I made my way back home, my attitude was changed and I thanked God for prompting me to change my route. I wasn’t expecting to meet with God in the cemetery, but I’m glad I did.