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.
Let me tell you about true faith.
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,
Barely able to sing, your heart in your boots.
But the song of your caring deeds
is sung in my Presence.
This season will not last forever.
Your service honours me and is done unto me.
Those who honour me in this way, I will honour.
Child of faith
Child of worship
Child of love
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.
I did a talk on this recently which is found at the following link. The slides which accompany it can also be downloaded. https://beaconchurchhavant.org.uk/messages/psalm-27/
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.
Writing this as I listen to some beautiful music.
Ok…advert over, extra-ordinary writing will be resumed! 😉
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.
That things could get better.
Tentatively we dare to ask for
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.
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:
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.
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
A strong, sure, and certain
At church this week, someone asked ‘why do we sing?’
These are my thoughts:
In the beginning was the word.
The Father spoke it
And Jesus came, and shared the word
Bringing it to earth in human form,
And the Spirit set the word to music
And the everlasting song was sung:
‘Holy holy holy’ the song in heaven
‘Holy holy holy’ we sing on earth
The bride singing with the groom.
And the Father, loving the song
Said to his Servants, write down a song or two
In my everlasting script.
So they started to write
And couldn’t stop until the book of songs had 150 of them
And still new ones being sung on heaven and earth
For the song is in His heart, like His love it has no end.
We sing a new song, a song of his love
And He sings songs of deliverance over us
songs of joy, songs of everlasting love
songs of freedom, listen, and you hear our chains fall, broken to the floor.
How can we not sing?….
Come let us join heaven’s song…and sing.