Isaiah 54.4
1.“Sing, barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labour;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,”
says the Lord.
…says the Lord. God who speaks. God who communicates.
And listens too, which is just as well, because this is a passage which yields questions – some of which are painful.
It’s a truth that I see wherever I look – the wide open hearts of people who look around them and see not strangers but family. I can’t put it into words as well as CS Lewis, in the Great Divorce:
“First came bright Spirits… who danced and scattered flowers. Then, on the left and right, at each side of the forest avenue, came youthful shapes, boys upon one hand, and girls upon the other. If I could remember their singing and write down the notes, no man who read that score would ever grow sick or old. Between them went musicians: and after these a lady in whose honour all this was being done.
…the almost visible penumbra of her courtesy and joy … produces in my memory the illusion of a great and shining train that followed her across the happy grass. …
“Is it?…is it?” I whispered to my guide.
“Not at all,” said he. “It’s someone ye’ll never have heard of. Her name on earth was Sarah Smith and she lived at Golders Green.”
“She seems to be…well, a person of particular importance?”
“Aye. She is one of the great ones. Ye have heard that fame in this country and fame on Earth are two quite different things.”
…
“And who are all these young men and women on each side?”
“They are her sons and daughters.”
“She must have had a very large family, Sir.”
“Every young man or boy that met her became her son – even if it was only the boy that brought the meat to her back door. Every girl that met her was her daughter.”
“Isn’t that a bit hard on their own parents?”
“No. There are those that steal other people’s children. But her motherhood was of a different kind. Those on whom it fell went back to their natural parents loving them more. …
“Every beast and bird that came near her had its place in her love. In her they became themselves. And now the abundance of life she has in Christ from the Father flows over into them… already there is joy enough in the little finger of a great saint such as yonder lady to waken all the dead things of the universe into life.”
But of course I’m blind and untruthful if I don’t admit that there are times when “shout for joy… desolate woman” is a bit difficult to take.
Let me carry on listening, though. In the honest space where I know it’s true that God has joy and song ahead but I’m not sure how, I listen out for him.
2 “Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
strengthen your stakes.
3 For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nations
and settle in their desolate cities.
If I receive it, there is challenge and invitation and encouragement here. It is addressed – specifically – to women without children. This isn’t to say that the whole of God’s people shouldn’t receive it in some way – it’s for a community to hear and own – but perhaps today, I need to hear it as God knowing me, knowing my specific circumstance and speaking into it.
Your imagination can sometimes make you smaller when you’re single, I find. You can believe that your job is to fit in – and you can be pretty good at it, socially nimble, adept with gatherings of many sizes, ready to accept invitations. I can squeeze onto a table at a wedding pretty easily and, where needed, disappear when it’s bedtime or bathtime for the kids.
But God says this: take up more space.
It’s a message I’m not used to hearing from my culture – or, more honestly, from myself.
It says, don’t squeeze your tent in apologetically where you see a space left over, but inhabit the space God has given you – which may be bigger than you think you are allowed. A space large enough to invite and embrace others.
It is hard to picture.
I carry on listening.
4 “Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame.
Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.
You will forget the shame of your youth
and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.
5 For your Maker is your husband—
the Lord Almighty is his name—
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;
he is called the God of all the earth.
Into that hard invitation, God speaks his ‘do not fear’ again.
To take up a space, rather than squeezing in where there is room, risks being challenged – “why are you here?” But you will not be put to shame. To widen a tent’s capacity and invite others risks – well, it risks an empty tent. But you will not be humiliated.
This might be the hardest ‘do not fear’ so far. Because it comes with this challenge and invitation. Be visible. Invite others. Take up space. As you do so, do not be afraid.
a year of 'do not fear' 