Submerged into the stillness of creation.
Feet deep in dew-laden grass.
In solitude, the words come.
How do you write about the silence.
Explain the things we cannot see.
The wordless whispers of silent conversations.
Floating drifting words.
Ladened in love.
It’s the language of the heart.
Dictated to my mind.
Translating storing words before they fade into daydreams.
Capturing the silence.
Whispered softly from the heart.
Words become thoughts
Talk of truths.
Inspire my imitation.
Sparks of love.
Gently moving forward.
Always saying I am here.
Emotional stored up energy.
Focused and realised.
Mind wanders to silence.
Paths form and grow
Boundless and limitless.
Love Intensifies the silence.
Safety in the knowing.
Could I break out.
Smashing paths, trampling fences, distorting dreams.
That’s not me.
Should I be wild and reckless
Boundaries would be lost .
love would be hurt.
That’s not me.
Silence beyond just being.
Prayers that never utter a word.
Peace and freedom.
Love that pulls me, beyond my boundaries.
A wooden cabin located in the Somerset country side was our home for the weekend.
This beautiful location with its own private garden was a safe place to off load the burdens that we carry. Two friends on a weekend date with God.
We gave ourselves permission to be real, not just with each other but also to God. We talked about pain and fears. Being open without the slightest fear of judgement, knowing that we are loved.
The weekend was best described as one big long emotional prayer.
It was weekend of giving to God in a way that I have never really experienced before. I started to understand that the gifts I have do not belong to me or the church, but to God.
Gifts that have been freely given to me with the purpose of using them to help others, to praise God in my actions.
I experienced how astoundingly powerful just being with someone can be. How sharing and preparing food together is an act of gratitude, knowing that we are fed by God.
It was strangely exhausting, An emotional exhaustion that is almost neutralised with prayer and love.
As I listened, prayed and journeyed with my friend I grew too.
I showed myself that I can lead prayer. I can pray with someone that’s hurting and make a difference.
Showing my love the only way I knew how. Grounded in the ambulance of natural beauty that surrounded us. I shared the love that residues in my heart. We both felt that peace and love that comes from God.
The prayers we shared were personal and a beautiful reflection of our friendship. The loose itinerary planned pushed us both in many different ways but at no point did we feel uncomfortable.
Journeying with my friend giving her space to be with God, to share Gods love for us was a privilege.
To listen to her story, to be trusted with her thoughts and to share her prayers was friendship at its best.
1 Peter 5:6-7 The Message (MSG)
6-7 So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.
Day Eight – Lent Challenge 2018 – Faith
Today we celebrate the extremes of life—people who do big, bold stunts and make a visible difference in society. Yet we can often ignore the small, meek, everyday people who are making a difference – we just can’t see it so clearly.
The person I want to say thank you to today is my 2nd cousin. She allowed me to change my entire perspective on what it means to make a difference. A very quiet and private lady that in the last 5 years I have had the privilege of her sharing her faith with me.
We all show our faith in different ways. It’s these different ways that I find exciting. Gods love changes us from inside out. These changes take different shapes and grow in different ways. All uniquely different, all serving the God who loves us all just as we are.
This wonderful lady belongs and is part of our community. She feels part of and is part of our church family.
As a church, we pray for her. Read her name in out in intercessional prayers.
But she is only known by name, not in person.
She does not attend the church she belongs to. Her life is painful and behind closed doors. Sharing her pain with God is how she remains so positive.
A devoted wife; incredibly proud mother of her adopted son.
Her life has been full of frustrations, illness and pain.
The strength she shows each day comes from God.
Her faith is so quietly lived. It touches the lives of her family and close friends.
Jesus spent times of his life living quietly, with no public attention whatsoever. Only a handful of people knew what he was capable of. Jesus worked in the background. He laboured with his hands, made connections with people, and set the groundwork for his ministry to flourish later on in life.
When we’re living loud, extreme lives, theirs a danger our attention will be spread to thinly.
A quiet life lived, sees the need to love the people closest to you, not just the crowds. It’s living small loving big.
Walking with her is always a privilege, I always leave smiling and with something to think about.
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Reading someone else’s blog the following words shouted out from the page.
“You had a choice,” she said, “but you did not have free will.” A choice that was no choice at all.
These words have been said to me in similar ways more than once in the last 18 months. In my grief they offered no comfort. I was not ready to hear the words “no choice”, not ready to believe that I had no choice at all.
I had no choice but to turn and walk away.
Holding you in my arms, I told you a life with this new family would be so much better than a life with me.
Expressed my happiness in all that was happening.
I told you that it was going to amazing and wonderful.
A choice that was no choice at all.
I hugged you a hug of a thousand words.
Inward tears streamed inside of me .
I smiled so you understood it was ok.
A smile that was just muscles moving my face.
It was a smile that wanted to scream.
I had no choice but to smile.
No choice but to leave and not look back.
I could not look back.
You trusted me.
You could not see my face grumbling in grief .
Relief momentarily numbed the pain.
Relief that I held it together.
Relief that I made it outside before I gave into searing heat of breaking pain.
A choice that was no choice at all.
No choice is why I could not cry.
No choice why you could not stay.
I had no choice but to leave and say goodbye.
I had free will but no choice.
Please let your will be done in my life. If it’s not your will let it slip through my grasp. Give me the strength to forgive those that hurt the ones I love. Give me the courage to face my fears. The peace not to worry about the things I cannot control or change.
Life of mud and wellington boots.
Coloured pens that echo my thoughts.
Fluffy blankets in case my dreams.
Wild hair that lives its own life in its own time.
Food cupboards sorted by colour and size.
Hair that’s brushed and not in your eyes.
Beds made, house neatly clean.
Your hate has so much energy.
Physical punches aimed my way.
I would never fight, just flee
You hurt me.
Reborn I see your vulnerability.
I want to understand your pain.
It’s time to stop repealing
Stop guarding what we know.
We love each other so deeply.
I know want my love to show.
Day sixteen – lent challenge – Hospitality
Entering a church opening the old doors gives feels me with wonder , what’s inside what will it feel like , walking into church feeling the spirituality of it, the high ceilings that call you to look upwards , the silence and stillness, escaping form the hustle and bustle of the modern world. I place to pray and ponder to be alone but not be alone .
I recently visited a church that seemed to be more about the brand of coffee it was serving than about a place a worship.
It was a place of high tech audio equipment , screens on every pillar, microphones, drum kits, computers and open plan offices and a coffee shop, looking upward the eye was drawn to the cables weaving their way in and out of the pillars.
Coffee was served with a smile and brought to the table but where was god ??
I found myself trying to pray trying to connect with something anything but nothing was their the experience was cold and in need of love, god was missing.
Hospitality is so much more than a branded cup of coffee, hospitality is love , god is love , the lady’s that make coffee each week in our church and at church events are gifted in conversation welcoming smiling , washing up, working in the back ground often unseen but so very valued, they don’t sell a branded coffee , they share and show what it is to be loved by god.
Perhaps this is the moment you were created for” Esther 4:14.