We see it in our gardens – dew forms quietly as the world slumbers. This quiet source of nourishment serves as an evocative metaphor for Stuart Bell’s new book, The Dew Fall: The Silent Coming of the Lord. In it, he shares some of the challenging areas of our lives where God’s refreshing presence can surprise us. Here are some of Stuart’s reflections.
You’ve spent a lot of time in Israel, volunteering at the Garden Tomb. Tell us what dewfall looks like in Israel and how it serves as the inspiration for this book.
Anyone visiting the hill country of Judea in Israel would have to be up and about early to actually see the droplets of dew on the leaves and flowers of the plants. They evaporate so quickly in the early morning sun, but not before those same plants have had the opportunity to drink daily as the dew condenses on them during the night.
The evidence of the dewfall is not in actually seeing the dew itself, but in seeing its effect in plants which flourish in a place where, by rights, there should only be naked desert. Jesus himself is the example of the one rising early to absorb that dewfall of heaven and the evidence of it was in his flourishing soul.
Your book is structured into 17 chapters, each describing a way that God can bring about dewfall in our lives. Some of these include the voice of conscience, the fascination of testimony, and the warmth of fellowship. In your own experience, which of these 17 areas has been the biggest surprise to you?
It would probably be chapter seven which is entitled “The challenge of death.” Ever since I was ordained in 1971, I have considered that taking funerals was one of the greatest privileges of anyone’s ministry. We are dealing with people at the moment of their greatest vulnerability, but also at the moment when they are often most ready to listen to a Gospel which speaks of intimacy with God now and a hope of life beyond life.
Having recently been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer, I’m now having to face my own mortality and am relieved to be able to say with the Apostle Paul, ‘For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.’
You write beautifully about the gift of time. How can time and our relationship with it have a dewfall effect in our lives?
I remember very clearly as a young vicar being told by a recently bereaved woman that I should ‘make the most of your wife while you have her.’ As a result, living fully at the age that we are with the energy and opportunities which are ours at that time has been continually reinforced in my mind.
Our prayer since 2013 when we finished stipendiary ministry has been that we might be more useful in our old age than we were in our youth. It has been staggering to see the way that prayer has been answered; in planting a new church congregation, in writing and publishing three books, and in being consecrated a bishop.
Stuart and his wife Pru at the Garden Tomb in Israel
The pain of disappointment can also be a place of God’s nearness. What does this look like?
In a word, painful. All of us have hopes and plans, some of them comparatively trivial and mundane, some of them are lifetime ambitions. When those hopes are dashed with little expectation that circumstances may change then we are having to face the pain of grief.
Disappointments are like bereavements and we need to bring them to the Lord so that we can experience his comfort in our loss and maybe be given a new perspective on them. Maybe the hopes and plans were ours rather than his. Maybe the hopes and plans will eventually work out in a way which we could never have expected. It has been known!
You dedicated this book to Ffald y Brenin. What is it about Ffald y Brenin that attracts the dewfall of the Lord?
Wouldn’t we like to know? If only we could bottle it and put it on the market. I think that there are a number of factors which coincide in Ffald y Brenin. One is the obedience of Peter and Phyllida Mould all those years ago when they founded the centre as a place of retreat. Another is the constancy of thousands of people around the world who are praying regularly for the centre and its staff team.
Most certainly, it is the way in which people who come are expectant that the Lord will meet them whilst they are here. Perhaps that’s the most crucial element of all, for expectation and faith are brother and sister and we know that without faith it is impossible to please the Lord.
Photo credit: Marlene Lobban
Can you tell us of a moment at Ffald y Brenin you’ve found personally meaningful?
One morning it was my turn to lead the daily devotions, and as the liturgy progressed, a spirit of prayer came down on us in a way that I have rarely experienced. Everyone present was participating energetically and clearly making contact with heaven. As the time passed for the staff to leave to begin their working day I suggested that they withdraw (not every member of staff liked that suggestion!) and that the guests who were present should remain.
That spirit of prayer continued for a further hour without any break – one after another pouring out their hearts to the Lord in worship and intercession. And then as suddenly as it had started so equally suddenly it finished. The moment passed, but something of real significance had been happening.
How are you currently experiencing “the silent coming of the Lord?”
In the unexpected moments. Currently, I only have the opportunity to preach in Welsh once or twice a year. Because it is so infrequent, I’m always a little uptight about how the service will go. Yesterday happened to be one of those days. As I got up to speak, I experienced that ‘rush’ of the Spirit that only preachers know. There was fluency, clear contact with the congregation, effectiveness, and an understanding which was Spirit-given both to the preacher and the listeners. Would that it happened more often, but it happens often enough to be a wonderful encouragement.
Thank you, Stuart, for distilling years of wisdom into this book! For those of you who would like to purchase the book, you can do so in our shop.
Credit for cover photo: Jonas Weckschmied