“YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.” Mark 12:31 We often read this verse and focus on one thing: LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOUR. Be kind. Be patient. Be compassionate. Be forgiving. But recently I found myself stopping at two little words: AS YOURSELF. What if you don’t particularly like yourself, let alone love yourself? What if the way you speak to yourself is harsh? What if you constantly criticise yourself, rarely forgive yourself, and expect things from yourself that you would never expect from another person? And what if, without even realising it, you begin treating others in the same way you have learned to treat yourself? Maybe there is something here we sometimes overlook. Jesus said: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Perhaps those words reveal something about the way love flows through our lives. If your inner world has been filled with criticism, rejection, neglect or pain, sometimes love can be difficult to give simply because healthy love is something you have never learned to receive. But notice what Jesus says immediately before this: “You shall love the Lord your God…” Love begins with God. Our value isn’t created by our performance, achievements, appearance, usefulness or even our own opinion of ourselves. Our value begins with the One who created us and loves us. And perhaps healing begins when we stop arguing with God about whether we are worthy of His love and simply allow ourselves to receive it. His grace begins changing the way we see ourselves. We learn to speak to ourselves with a little less cruelty. To give ourselves the patience we readily give someone else. To acknowledge our failures without believing they define us. To receive forgiveness instead of continually punishing ourselves for something God has already forgiven. And something beautiful begins to happen. THE LOVE WE RECEIVE FROM GOD BEGINS TO CHANGE THE LOVE WE GIVE TO OTHERS. We become more patient because we have experienced His patience. More forgiving because we know what it means to be forgiven.

THE REFLECTION IS NO LONGER ME As one looks in the mirror, I cast my gaze towards the surface of the water, looking for the reflection I long to see. The reflection I seek it is no longer me. I search to seek, in hopes that I find the reflection of You in the waves of my mind. Your image is the face that I long to see, the proof of Your life dwelling in me. The light of Your love breaking through, showing me that I belong to You. As I look deeper, the ripples move to reveal what the eyes just cannot see the life of You now dwelling in me. And search as I might, it is now hard to find traces of the me that I have left behind. Your work has brought changes in me, changes that only You can see. As I walk in Your way, I begin to see the reflection that looks back is no longer me.

A WATERED GARDEN IN A SCORCHED PLACE “And the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” Isaiah 58:11 What are the “scorched places”? They are those seasons of life where everything seems dry. Seasons of grief and deep emotional pain. Times of financial pressure or uncertainty. Moments of loneliness and confusion. Places where you feel stuck, exhausted, or as though your own resources have completely run out. But notice what God promises. He doesn’t simply say He will lead us out of the scorched places. He says He will “satisfy your desire IN scorched places.” IN THE SCORCHED PLACE. Sometimes God changes the landscape around us. Sometimes He changes what is happening within us while we are still standing in that landscape. The ground can be dry, but YOU DON’T HAVE TO BECOME DRY WITH IT. You can experience grief and still carry His comfort. You can experience uncertainty and still know His guidance. You can feel depleted and discover His strength. You can walk through a wilderness while God is cultivating a garden within you. Then God says He will “make your bones strong.” He strengthens what feels weak. He stabilises what feels shaken. He renews us when we feel as though we have nothing left. God doesn’t simply give us enough water to survive. His life within us begins to overflow. The person who once desperately needed refreshing can become someone through whom God refreshes others. And that connects beautifully with the wider message of Isaiah 58. God was speaking to people who were doing the outward religious things. They were fasting and seeking Him, but something was wrong. Their religious activity wasn’t being reflected in the way they treated others. God wanted more than ritual. He wanted His heart to become visible through their lives. True faith doesn’t only change how we worship.

WHEN YOUR SOUL IS RUNNING ON EMPTY “How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.” Psalm 84:1–2 I love the honesty of Psalm 84. The writer doesn’t pretend to have it all together. His soul longs so deeply for the presence of God that he says he is almost fainting for it. We might describe that feeling differently today. Running on empty. Overwhelmed. Emotionally exhausted. Burnt out. Life can become incredibly noisy. Work, responsibilities, social media, notifications, expectations and the constant pressure to keep going can leave us exhausted, not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally too. And sometimes we try to refill ourselves with things that only distract us. We scroll. We watch something. We keep ourselves busy. We tell ourselves we just need a break. But there is a difference between distraction and restoration. The psalmist understood what his soul was really longing for. Not simply a quiet place. Not merely relief from responsibility. He was longing for God Himself. The temple courts were precious because they represented being near to God. Today, we can intentionally make room to turn our attention toward Him. It might be sitting quietly in prayer, opening our Bible and reading with intention, worshipping, walking through His creation, or gathering with other believers. The place itself isn’t the destination. HE IS. Sometimes what we call burnout is not only a need to stop doing. It can reveal a deeper need to start dwelling. To put down the phone. Step away from the noise. Stop trying to carry everything ourselves. And spend time with the living God. I also love that the psalmist can be fainting with longing and singing for joy in almost the same breath. What a beautiful picture of our human experience. We can be completely exhausted and still filled with hope. Our hearts can be weary and still worship. Our bodies can be tired and our spirits can still know where to run.

When the Wilderness Becomes a Garden “For the Lord comforts Zion; he comforts all her waste places and makes her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song.” Isaiah 51:3 This is such a beautiful promise of hope. God looks at the broken, empty and wasted places and says, I can restore that. He can take the dry wilderness and make it like Eden. He can take the desert and turn it into the garden of the Lord. The place that once held sadness can become a place filled with joy, thanksgiving and songs of praise. Just before this promise, God reminds His people to look back at Abraham and Sarah. Abraham was only one man when God called him, yet God blessed him and multiplied him. What looked small was not too small for God. What looked impossible was not impossible for God. Sometimes we find ourselves in wilderness seasons where we feel weak, dry, alone or even forgotten. We look around and see very little evidence that anything is changing. But God sees beyond what we can see. He sees the garden while we are still looking at the desert. He sees new growth where we only see dry ground. He sees restoration where we see ruins. And He reminds us of what He has done before so that we can trust Him with what He is doing now. If you are walking through a wilderness today, don’t mistake the dryness of this season for the absence of God. You have not been forgotten. You are still on His mind. The wilderness is not necessarily the end of your story. God can make gardens grow in places you thought would always remain barren. Joy is on the way. And one day, the place that heard your tears may hear your song. The wilderness doesn’t merely become fruitful; it gets its song back.