breathless

I have been silent here

for good reason

awed by His creation

now that my breath is back

words will return

Random, disturbed, profound

this picture has no connection with the text below, just random beauty

I was trying to read, reading about writing

instead of writing what someone else 

might or might not want to read

and remembering a dear old, no, 

young, blogging friend, who,

once started a thing he titled

Randomly Disturbed Thursdays.

I realised it was, in fact,Thursday

and after all that, still I sat

reading about writing, my highly sensitive self

aware of the most annoying, distracting

sound of a leaky faucet, drip by drop.

I inquired of my husband, who

sat beside me at the kitchen table, also reading

"Where is that dripping coming from?"

Having no answer, he turned his page

continuing, while my ears, ever sharp

even in their half-deafness, tried to discern

"Could it be coming from the bathroom?"

"I can check" he replied, yet did not.

"You're sure it's not the kitchen sink?"

I turned to stare, to see if I could spy 

a silvery slip of something, no

not there, but still, the tap, tap, rhythmic

almost like the ticking of a clock, yes

almost like the clock just behind me 

on the wall, the second hand perfectly timed

to the same pestering sound.

On this Thursday, I found

random, disturbed, profound 

the truth, nothing is as we first

believe, flexibility is essential

and a touch of silly helps sometimes

when you're finding it hard to breathe.

keep listening

allowing Him to speak - early on His day

even as all days are His

in the quiet

keep listening

when it is difficult

to hear Me

may well be when I have

the most to say

just be, little one

just be

you are Mine, and I know

what I'm doing

I will direct, Am directing

your every step

breathe, surrender

go limp and be

like a marionette

allow the Master

to pull the strings

yes, you were trained

to believe it is wrong,

weak and foolish

to be a puppet

what better hand

should control your life?

in My time, in My way

for My glory

your life will accomplish

that which I desire

I Am, so relax

be and let Me Be

I am not calling you

to laziness, no, I tell you

there is work to do

but in My strength

and when our purposes collide?

when We work as one?

there is a release of great passion

and joy

keep listening

you know when you know

Come, you children, listen to me;

I will teach you to fear the Lord

 [with awe-inspired reverence and worship Him with obedience].

  Psalm 34:11 Amplified

 

reverse fade

 

tension and confusion

left cracks

in my spirit

the air grew thin

as light faded

harder each day

to inhale Him

but even as I was letting go

He held me strong

I grabbed hold

before all hope leaked away

 learning anew

 how to breathe

exhale anxiety

inhale peace

exhale defeat

inhale victory

exhale self

inhale Jesus

life, light and joy returning

not in drips 

now in cascades

 May the God of your hope 

so fill you with all joy and peace in believing 

[through the experience of your faith] 

that by the power of the Holy Spirit 

you may abound 

and be overflowing (bubbling over) with hope.

Romans 15:13 Amplified

rest

she lived free

to run, exploring

and defending the acres

that were her home

her only trips away

were to the kennel 

for boarding or the vet 

she went cheerfully to both

with tail wags and licks

always willing to share

her joy in the moment

even the pain that settled

in her bones did not hinder 

her desire to give love

yesterday morning

was no different she jumped 

happy into the backseat

of the car, only surprised

that I chose to climb in beside her

instead of taking my usual place 

in front, next to "the boss"

she didn't know 

it was her last ride

she didn't flinch or complain

when the veterinary assistant

held her back leg so the doctor

could shave through the thick fur

making room for the needle

she was too busy

giving and receiving affection

as we held and stroked her

cherishing each of her sweet kisses

as much as she enjoyed bestowing them

until the lure of sleep

called far too strong

and she lay down her head

breathing peaceful into death

in the same way she lived

with a rhythm all her own

joining Kelli where rhythms are never forced

 

whitespace is not blank

the absence of busy

does not equal nothingness

the absence of busy

is not empty

the busy itself is the vacuum

the energy drain, set fully open

till nothing is left but the busy

no light

no breath

no meaning

just stop, if you can

for a moment

one moment in time

turn off the noise

listen

He has been calling

through the ages

My beloved spoke 

and said to me,

    “Arise, my darling,

    my beautiful one, 

come with me.

Song of Songs 2:10 NIV

in rest, in Him

in long, slow breaths

there is space

to create

to embrace the new thing

He wants to bring forth

through you

through me

to all who would stop

and come

letting go of the busy

to be

renewed

refreshed

restored

His 

work of art

allowing room for whitespace with Bonnie

this is also what we're doing over at Sandy's as we are working through Making Manifest

 

reminding myself to breathe

my nights swirl with dreams

I wake often 

listen to the worship music that fills the room

stretch, pray, turn to snuggle close

to the one rests peacefully beside me

breathe

I remind myself

inhale truth

exhale love

my days scatter

with emails, phone calls

calendars and spread sheets

tracking financial support

scheduling speaking, sharing times

breathe

I remind myself

inhale courage

exhale faith

none of this is a big deal

for the One Who 

holds all things in His hand

He has this

He has me

He has us all

God answered Moses, 

“So, do you think I can’t take care of you? 

You’ll see soon enough 

whether what I say happens for you or not.” 

Numbers 11:23 The Message

walking with Emily loved in our imperfection

 

Learning to breathe

This week we're looking at the chapter titled Our Father.  Brennan writes about praying with a nun who was living with profound shame issues:

In the next few minutes, I prayed with her for healing. Then I asked her if she would find a quiet place every morning for the next thirty days, sit down in a chair, close her eyes, upturn her palms, and pray this one phrase over and over: 

ABBA, I BELONG TO YOU.  

It’s a prayer of exactly seven syllables, the number that corresponds perfectly to the rhythm of our breathing. As you inhale—Abba. As you exhale—I belong to You. 

Through her tears she agreed: “Yes, Brennan, I will.” 

One of the most moving and poetic follow-up letters I’ve ever received came from this sister. In it she described the inner healing of her heart, a complete forgiveness of her father, and an inner peace she’d never known in her seventy-eight years. She concluded her letter with these words: A year ago, I would’ve signed this letter with my real name in religious life—Sister Mary Genevieve. But from now on, I’m Daddy’s little girl. 

Be aware, this is not sloppy sentimentality or indulgent wishful thinking. But rather a woman who dared to pray in the childlike trust and deep reverence that Jesus said would mark a disciple, and in doing so discovered the furious love of her Abba. 

At the end of the chapter, Manning issues the following challenge:

Prayerfully consider taking a few moments every day for the next month, closing your eyes, upturning your palms, and praying, “Abba, I belong to You.” Don’t make it anything more than that; trust me, it’s enough. 

The world roars, demanding its full share of attention

and here am I bending beneath the weight of it

sifting and sorting, till exhausted I shrug shoulders, 

lift hands, drop it all

the noise too loud, 

black and white shifting in shades of grey

and He smiles, for with great patience 

He has been waiting for this release

bringing me again and again to this point of surrender

face to face with my need for Him

Inhale, slow

taking in more of Him than I can hope to hold

Exhale, slower

declaring the only truth I know

I belong to Him

Joining the discussion at Sarah's

 

Hazardous Faith

I’m sharing the following previously posted poem about My Hazardous Faith Story as part of a synchroblog connected with the release of Ed Cyzewski and Derek Cooper’s new book Hazardous: Committing to the Cost of Following Jesus.

Dreaming big and surrendering my will for His is the most dangerous thing I've ever done.  It can lead me anywhere, but never out of His sight!

To dream big dreams

and live them

instead of casting them aside

as foolish

or unattainable

this is walking with the Lord

To learn to silence

voices that hinder

voices that crush

voices that press in hard

voices that speak "can't"

this too is walking with the Lord

To breathe deep

dive deep

search out the deep

deep places

in a heart crafted

ever molded

by His hand

to know His heart

is deeper still

yes, walking with the Lord

To stand brave

in the rain of His revelation

knowing

I am nothing

apart

and everything

in Him

every other dream

becomes brightly possible

in His light

and every other dream

fades and is humbled

next to the dream

of true abiding

walking with, beside

and in my Lord.

Dwell in Me, and I will dwell in you. [Live in Me, and I will live in you.] Just as no branch can bear fruit of itself without abiding in (being vitally united to) the vine, neither can you bear fruit unless you abide in Me.  John 15:4 Amplified

Come read more and share your own hazardous faith story at Ed's place here

 

Living water

Waterfall in the Friendship Gardens - La Crosse, Wisconsin

Back on the road
winding along the Mississippi
breathing deep
drinking in freedom
refreshment
no need to be anything but His
living water never ceases


 

Seeking balance

Away from the fields

that surround my daily dreams

I breathe to a rhythm

unfamiliar

yet still ordered by my Lord

I do His bidding

move as His feet

and hands

pray for His words

to trip my tongue

It is both dark

and light

here

as I seek a balance

I've not yet found

 

Let go to hold on

I keep trying to grasp hold of time

and the intro to the old soap opera repeats in my brain

"like sand through an hourglass, so are the days of our lives"

I keep trying to grasp hold

I keep trying to

grasp

and it slips

slips faster

my fingers stretched tight

strained, tension cramping every fibre

yet in the Kingdom of my citizenship

the place that seems so twisted,

upside down

when compared to this world
I have so much to learn

for here
one must let go
to hold on

trying to grasp hold

of anything

but Him

is like attempting

to trap

the wind

and He is always

here, right here

in my hand

in my heart

no stretch, no strain

palms open

breathe

 

Sharing with Jennifer and others who see His hand moving...

 

A place for everything



                                 Image by istorija via Flickr

Spring may be the time we feel drawn to clean our houses, but there is also something about the start of the year that calls out for a new order.

Today was the day to attack the kitchen pantry, sorting, sifting and placing things back on shelves.  There is something so satisfying about stacking beans with beans, grains arranged side by side, cereal boxes pressed close to the back wall, cans placed neatly like with like.

There is a freedom that descends
when chaos departs
the ability to breathe deeper. 

Inhale. 
Exhale. 
Peace.

Now, to sort through my thoughts in like fashion...