‘See me’
she cries in all her glory
as sunset glides through golds and pinks
leaving purple haze and peace.
“I’m here” - a whisper
her voice barely dusting the still lake.
Beauty calls
through artists, poets and kind deeds
of broken humanity.
Hear her voice, or his,
through enduring love
and sacrifices, great and small.
She calls us to He who made it all.
Magnificent Creator
who painted the greatest beauty
in the ugly-skull-place
Blood dripping down roughly hewn wood.
Hatred unable to stifle Love
pouring from the broken body,
the ultimate sacrifice
given to draw us into the eternal dance
in divine union
past visible horizons.
Beauty calls...
Take the outstretched, scarred hand
and join the dance
and the kingdom, where unending beauty dwells.
How I hate
This necessary darkness.
It is even worse
than those days in mid summer
When I am gasping for just a drop
Of water.
When the earth around is cracked and dry
Scraping against me.
I cry out:
“I cannot keep going, sustaining life
Without something to quench my thirst.
I can grow no more.”
The response: silence.
I try to rise, but only meet a hotter place
a drier place.
The only option is to stretch
to reach out my roots
Tentatively pushing down until
- bliss!
The earth grows damper
I stretch out more.
Damper and wetter with each centimetre
until I am quenched.
I feel my flowers opening
My leaves becoming glossy
And I know I am beautiful.
Bees visit and spread the good news of my glory
With every grain of pollen that clings to their feet
And is spread near and far as they fly.
My scent declares all around that I am good.
I am oh so tasty.
Those days are long gone now and I am nothing.
Hidden in this necessary darkness
Flowers, scent, leaves but a memory.
I have been razed to the ground.
I look lifeless
No one even knows I am here
and there is nothing I can do.
Except wait.
Wait.
And wait again.
A long, cold waiting in the frozen ground.
But I know one day - and I hope it is soon -
A bud will form.
A sliver of green reach out
and start its fragile journey towards light.
I know I will grow again
Bigger, better, more beautiful than last year.
But meantime I wait
Replenishing the core of my being
As I rest
In this necessary darkness.
Standing in the dark, not knowing if I Am with you. Feeling the poverty of your prayer life Wondering where I went. Wondering if I Am? So many questions. A miracle would be good but since there is none Still you put one foot in front of another Still the ember glows in your heart Still you help, you give out, you love. This is faith.
“Oh but it isn’t love” I hear you say, “I just do stuff ‘cos it needs doing. “If I didn’t, who would?” So you carry on caring for the helpless, Not seeing that as you wash their feet, you wash mine. You argue that your lack of feeling means you love less.
No child, the lack of feeling means you love more for you are still there. Caring.
You stand on Sunday, exhausted. Barely able to sing, your heart in your boots. But the song of your caring deeds is sung in my Presence. Beautiful worship.
This season will not last forever. Your service honours me and is done unto me.
Nothing much written lately. Stormy skies are all around what with Covid threats and dire situations all around, many of which touch me and my friends directly.
Yet He – our beautiful Jesus – knows all about that. He is the man who brings Peace to storms.
My refuge at such times is Psalm 27. Within this psalm is the simple answer.
Do not chase after fame or riches or things
that may make you feel important.
Do not fret over the moments, days or weeks
when you may feel friendless.
Do not serve motivated by the need
for recognition.
Do not stand in line to speak with leaders
Or sit in front of ‘prophetic ministries’
longing to be picked out
so that you may receive a word from God.
And if you must name-drop
Why not drop My name into your day
I AM
King of Kings
Friend of Sinners
Lily of the Valley
Bright and Morning Star
Light of the world
Father
Comforter
Saviour
Good shepherd
Lion of Judah
Lamb that was slain
Your Prophet
Your Peace
Your friend
I AM
Emmanuel - God with you
Drop My Name into your heart and your days
Sit under My throne
Receive a word direct from My mouth
spoken by My Spirit
I will make you rich with the things that truly matter
that never perish.
And always know
I AM the God who sees you.
Sentinel tree
How long have you stood on Clifftop?
How many wild seas have you seen?
How large their waves? Tossing their spume
like raging spit, into the air.
How many storms have you stood through?
How many branches have been ripped off?
See your arms
bent and twisted
From days you wrestled with the wind,
Until you learned to lean
into the gales, not fight them.
So you still stand in this breeze
waving a song of survival to me.
Your silent wisdom whispers:
"The strength is in the roots."
The secret of standing
proclaimed in silence
for those who have ears to hear.
A whisper in the wind of a long forgotten word. Hope.
A concept Idea That things could get better. Tentatively we dare to ask for Hope.
And as we hear your words of love Of a kingdom far from here yet at hand. A place where tears will cease Not ‘over the rainbow’ but covenant promise, nonetheless. Hope
We dare to nudge each other in the face of disasters and sickness, wars and quakes, floods and death – We look into each others eyes and declare it: Hope.
And as sure as Jesus on that cross promising the man who could do nothing to save himself ‘Today, you will be with me in Paradise’ – the word rings true. Resonating in trusting heart. Hope
And now like Andrew and John barely daring to believe, to hope we run, full pelt to empty tomb. A risen Christ Still loving, still promising Our living Hope
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