grace

A Change of Location

2012-01-09T09:27:00.002Z

To all who might happen upon this page again after such a long silence....due to a certain event, and its subsequent change upon my name, I've decided to start afresh with a new-ish blog. Nothing is on the page yet, but I thought I'd post something here to make it semi-official. Maybe it'll force me to write something again.

http://gracevwright.blogspot.com/

Much love,

-Grace

2011-08-31T09:10:00.002+01:00

Covenant

Our hidden bundle of selves

is being woven into a three-chord strand

round eyes, heart, and hand

slowly unknotted, plucked, and wound

tethered now, to you I am bound

alive, waiting not on shelves.

'But [she] treasured all these things in her heart.'

'The Lord has done this,

and it is marvelous in our eyes.

This is the day the Lord has made;

let us rejoice and be glad in it.'

Hope Deferred.

2011-05-13T23:57:00.001+01:00

'The shore you left is just as distant, and there is no going back; there is only the decision to paddle in place or stop, slide out of the hatch and sink into the sea. Maybe there's another story at the bottom of the sea. Maybe you don't have to be in this story anymore.

It's been like this with all my crossings....I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can't see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouses, and they look for an easier story....

It's like this with every crossing, and with nearly every story too. You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any farther. And then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow, and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you can make out the crags in the cliffs, and then the shore reaches out to you, to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat to the sand.'

(Donald Miller, Million Miles in a Thousand Years)

Tonight, I'm finding it hard to trust. Faith is drained and joy has run off with the sun. I want to shout out, 'SERIOUSLY???!?!?! Seriously.' I'm tired of hope deferred. I'm tired of tears. Please, I beg, can this fight be over?

Do you ever feel like there's a shore you've been trying to reach for a long time - months, maybe years? Does it seem to be alluding your every attempt? Yeah. I'm with you.

I read verses like this in the morning, yet by evening their encouragement seems to have departed, 'Keep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge....Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.' (Psalm 16)....

Then I force myself to look up to the face, from which the gentle voice is emanating. And I see the nail scarred hands reaching out to me....speaking of Your capacity to love, your ability to hold steadfast.

You, Jesus, are my inheritance, and that is why it's delightful. Not because my life is working out how I think it should, not because I'm getting married this year, not because the sun has been out in Edinburgh. And that is why it can be delightful when the promises You've spoken seem to be delayed, when the hope is deferred, when the light seems dim, when my own inadequacies feel great.

'I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;

even at night my heart instructs me.

I have set the Lord always before me.

Because He is at my right hand,

I will not be shaken.'

(Psalm 16)

My future is secure in His hands.

Before All Ages.

2011-05-11T00:31:00.000+01:00

'To Him who is able to keep you from stumbling

and to present you before His glorious presence

without fault and with great joy - to the only God our Saviour

be glory, majesty, power, and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord,

before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.'

Jude 1:25-6

2011-05-06T22:43:00.001+01:00

I think God's grace is a lot bigger than I make it out to be.

A Story's End.

2011-05-04T12:04:00.000+01:00

Well, my week long plunge into the world of daily blogging has drawn to a close. It's been....a challenge. A challenge to actually write down (in a semi-public place) what goes on in this wee head of mine. Instead of just squirreling it away in the pages of my journal. So thanks for taking all these trains with me! :)

It always amazes me the paths of thought that God takes me on, through my days. Marriage. A wedding feast. I recently read this incredible article on marriage. It's short, and well worth the read. And it got me thinking....

In the beginning was a wedding, for God determined that it was not good for us to be alone. That we, as the very pictures of His being, should be joined together as one - just as He is One.

The end of The Story? A wedding feast.

'Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:

"Hallelujah!

For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

Let us rejoice and be glad

and give Him glory!

For the wedding of the Lamb has come,

and His bride has made herself ready.

Fine linen, bright and clean,

was given her to wear."

Then the angel said to me, "Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!" And he added, "These are the true words of God."'

(Revelation 19:6-9)

'The Bible ends with a wedding ceremony.....the story of God culminates in Jesus bringing his Bride, the church, home to live with Him permanently. Those who have trusted in Christ for salvation throughout history, whether anticipating His coming or looking back to when He came, will live with Him forever. The marriage supper of the Lamb proves that the covenant-keeping God honours His promises. That is your Hope, and will always be the Hope of the Bride of Christ.'

I've had quite a few 'wedding stress dreams' so far. Some of them involving me being forced to marry a complete stranger. NIGHTMARE! Others, have to do with my dress.....something going wrong, it not being what I've chosen....Silly things like that. Except it isn't silly.

For at the beginning of our stories, we are all born with the wrong clothing. We go through life, dressed in rags of false righteousness. But Jesus came and found us, in our floundering and dirty state. He took off his robe of white and fashioned it into the most stunning of wedding clothes. And took upon Himself our muddied and ripped clothing....

But my dear brother and sister, He didn't stop there. He took us away from our life of slavery, and has set our feet inside His own palace. To dwell, abide, and rule there with Him.....And even after all of this, I still pick up the broom to serve Him. It's as if I was a bride who insisted on serving the meal to all her guests in order to repay the bridegroom for his love.

When all He longs to do, is place me at His table and eat with me. At the wedding feast. Shall I not revel in this grace and love, instead of working to repay it? To rest in the act that makes my soul complete and whole.

Donald Miller writes, 'What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that's why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day, to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said he'd learned the secret of contentment.....Do I still think there will be a day when all wrongs are made right, when our souls find the completion they are looking for? I do. But when all things are made right, it won't be because of some preacher or stake-oil salesman or politician or writer making promises in his book. I think, instead, this will be done by Jesus. And it will be at a wedding. And there will be a feast.'

'Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere

we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts

and our wives' heels.'

(Much Ado About Nothing)

'Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all,

With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.'

(As You Like It)

<a href="http://chasingowls.bandcamp.com/track/wedding-song">Wedding Song by Chasing Owls</a>

Love is?

2011-05-03T23:47:00.000+01:00

Love.

Love is graciously

patient with another soul,

kindhearted in all

the movements of its hands

and words.

The green root

of envious feeling

does not colour its deeds.

Empty phrases of forecful validation,

proof of self's worth,

never burn within.

The heart of love is not only gentle,

but also humble;

seeking the other,

not its own pursuits.

It longs

always reaching out;

not expecting to be sought,

but to seek.

Love is not unneccessarily

harsh or brash,

with the precious closeness

of another being.

The spark of anger

is always

quenched

before the setting of the sun.

The record of past wrongs

does not trouble

the thoughts of Love,

they are buried deep

within the waters

of forgetfulness.

Love's eyes are full

of Truth.

And it is delighted in this holiness.

The vulnerable are protected

withing Love's strong

and steady

shelter.

Open-armed embrace.

It trusts

in the strenght of joy

which fills its being

with Hope,

and the faithful perseverence

of grace.

Love is gloriously triumphant.

He never fails.

P.S. In a follow up thought from yesterday's post, check out this article if you've got the time. Seriously one of the best things I've read on marriage: http://theresurgence.com/2011/04/07/marriage-in-gods-story.

Covenant.

2011-05-03T00:53:00.002+01:00

Noun.

To come; a coming together; a meeting or agreement of minds.

A mutual consent or agreement of two or more persons, to do or to forebear some act or thing; a contract; stipulation.

In theology, the covenant of works, is that implied in the commands, prohibitions, and promises of God; the promise of God to man, that man's perfect obedience should entitle him to happiness. This do, and live; that do, and die.

The covenant of redemption, is the mutual agreement between the Father and Son, respecting the redemption of sinners by Christ.

The covenant of grace, is that by which God engages to bestow salvation on man, upon the condition that man shall believe in Christ and yield obedience to the terms of the Gospel.
In church affairs, a solemn agreement between the members of a church, that they will walk together according to the precepts of the Gospel, in brotherly affection.

I've been thinking about this word quite a bit lately. It's four months and a week until I make the biggest promise of my life. And I'm scared. I'm going to be promising to love when I'm empty, to give when I'm hurting, to see when I'm blind, to hear when I'm deaf, to be strong when I'm weak. The depth and breath of this vow of marriage overwhelms me slightly....I am but slight and frail. I am afraid of failing, of twisting love into some knarled and cracked, dying root. 'What's if there's a drought?', my heart queries in subtle desperation. Or not so subtle desperation, depending on the day.

I place myself under the covenant of works.....

.....forgetting that my heart has been set free in the redemptive covenant of grace.

Covenant of grace? The eternal plan of redemption entered into by the three persons of the Godhead.

Fear has no place in this covenant of perfect Love....For Love Himself has promised to be faithful unto me. And in this Love, my weakness is enveloped in His strength. My ears have been awoken to the music of His mercy. My eyes have been pierced by the rays of His light. He has given His very self into my hurting, fearful soul, healing my wounds with every morning. And because of this, I am free to pour out all that He has poured within....Love has called me to Him, to empty my very self....so that I can be filled to overflowing. So that I may walk in the good news. That I might dwell in the promises. That my fragmented being might be pieced back together into the mosaic that Love alone knows how to create. That I might be able to love in return. This is the God I can trust in.

'Let us hold unswervingly to the Hope which we profess, for He who promised is faithful.'

-Hebrews 10:23

A Glorious Reminder.

2011-05-02T00:07:00.002+01:00

Today was a beautiful, glorious reminder of what it's all about.

Good news. Jesus.

We, as a wee little family here in this city, got to witness four people being baptised this morning. I was overwhelmed with the majesty of the story in which I find myself. In which we as a church find ourselves. To see these four people, such dear and true friends, stand up and share their journeys - so varied and powerful....was full of heart-deepening beauty.

Jesus? You are present and living and dwelling in our midst. Why do I so often forget this?

Do I live as if You hold all the ages between Your fingertips?

I greatly fear that I do not.

But then I see Your eyes. So full of grace and truth. And I see sights like today....hearing stories of healing and wholeness, of hope and a future. We hear of another thread in Your story-tapestry, all the way from Nepal. We hear of the ministers there, the miracles which abound....and my faith slowly rises - like an engine that's been stuck out in the cold. We open our mouths and sing of Your great deeds.

You are so good. Thank You for not leaving me where I am at, but always and ever calling me 'further up and further in'.

I know this video might be a 'tad' on the pretentious side...but it challenged me a few years ago, and I managed to find it again. What does good news look like to those dwelling amongst us?

YOUR HOPE from blaine hogan on Vimeo.

P. S. I swear I had this almost finished on time....:)

Unscribable days.

2011-04-30T23:48:00.004+01:00

Ah! Forty minutes to write this and I'm so tired. But knowing my incessant and utterly annoying need to stick to my word, I shall post. I will not be defeated!! Though, I regret to inform you that today, I shall only be inscribing a few brief words. I've been up hills all day long....

And I guess there are some days that are best left unsaid....

Even if I wish I could put them into words and remember every last detail.

Days so full of joy and sunlight....and friendship.

And love.

God is so good. And He is present in all of our days....though, I think He's present in a special and unique way during these unscribable days.

'They said, "Rabbi, where are you staying?"

"Come," He replied, "and you will see" '

(John 1: 38-9)

Let's dwell with Him in all of our days.

Communion.

2011-04-29T22:13:00.001+01:00

Communion

Brushstrokes on the soul of someone else,

This fearless touch unclothes bodies

Unwinding the knotted ribbons of my thoughts

And permeates the clattering clutter beneath

Late, I have come, drawn to your side

By some unknown force of subtle magnitude.

The foolish winds of fancy, I have long believed

Fall away, struck down by the silence of love.

My being, a skylark in dawn, rises

From the rubble of plaguing insecurities.

No more through cafe windows do I gaze

But soaring, sailing, scaling, I venture.

Deep delving closeness draws

And the ivory papers of my heart flutter

Your breath warms my salty cheek;

Caressing the breakable mosaic of me.

This red wine, the bread, enfolds me

Within you, you within and without.

The paradox, the oneness of grace

Confounds, perplexes, radiates.

A Pen's Justification.

2011-04-28T15:58:00.002+01:00

I'm being forced to pause.

I don't like this.

I have to write now.

Why is it so hard to focus, to make myself do what I love?

I fear I'm riddled with fear.

And then I want to give up altogether and go bake a cake. Or wish for the umptienth time that I didn't have to worry about not being in full-time employment. Or go worry about something else insignificant. Or look at pretty blogs.

I realised, at about 1:00 am this morning (as you do) why so much of my journaling feels fake to me. It's cause I hide. I hide what occupies my brain the most. And most of the time, it's fears. Donald Miller mentions that Jesus commanded us over TWO HUNDRED times 'Do not fear'. And still I succumb to its paralysing voice.

So I check facebook (yup). I wonder what I'll make for dinner. I use the toilet. I doubt that I'm loved. I check my emails. I pop out to run an errand. I fritter away the hours.

My soul shrinks, my faith diffuses into thin air, and I am numbed.

And then the guilt rises, as I try to justify what I've done with my day.....that never goes over well. I chide myself and I ask, 'What SHOULD I be doing?' I try harder.

A Pen's Justification

There is a knotted thread

within my hand;

it binds my fingers together.

But my head?

It hurts for all the wool

tangled

mangled.

I try

raging

pulling

to explain, explore, the ache.

The ache of inadequacy

of confused, believed fallacy.

My perception

time and again rebuked

by a sense of duty.

Will my pen ever stop

trying to justify my being?

Do you ever try harder? To cover up, let go, sweep away, forget, to build, to create,....to justify? I look inside me for The Answer, The Meaning.

Inside me....

....and I wonder why fear seems to grip onto my heart and why I can't hear Your voice in amongst my endless babble and fretting.

Inexplicably, this morning (having woken up tense and under-slept) I finally listened to the Voice that had been whispering 'read John' for the past couple of days. And I read these verses....

'In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

He was with God in the beginning.

Through Him all things were made;

without Him nothing was made

that has been made.

In Him was life

and that life was the light of men.

The Light shines in the darkness,

but the darkness has not understood

or overcome

it.'

John 1.

I can't claim to know what this means. What it means intellectually or for my own life....but I read it and my bones feel vigorous again. My heart somehow has courage. Life is seeping back into me. A fight is rising within....I will not stand idly by as the Story is ripped from my life. It will not be stolen from me. For the Light, Jesus, the Word is dwelling with me. Within us.

Challenge for myself?

Let the Word of Christ dwell RICHLY within me, and then maybe the words that spill from my own pen will feel less like a justification, less of a covering up,....and more of an act of freedom, more of a joy.

The Importance Of Jumping In Rivers.

2011-04-27T11:27:00.004+01:00

I had a pause, a breathing space, in my life this past weekend. And it was most glorious.

I've also felt challenged.....to stop letting my days pass me by as if my life was meaningless. I remember growing up, I would always pretend that I was in a story. Whether that story was in war-time Britain, bombs dropping around me, or in some Victorian field on Prince Edward Island, or in some dimly lit, religiously fraught medieval castle on a cold and wet day. Walking about in the grocery store gathering items for my mum, in the car on the way to piano lessons, or lying in bed at night....I would depart for the Other Lands.

Yes. I was an odd child.

But that's the rub. We are in a story.....and what kind of story am I in? I've been reading (devouring?) 'A Million Miles in a Thousand Years' by Don Miller. He writes, 'I like the part of the Bible that talks about God speaking the world into existence, as though everything we see and feel were sentences from His mouth, all the wet of the world His spit. I feel written. My skin feels written, and my desires feel written. My sexuality was a word spoken by God, that I would be male, and I would have brown hair and brown eyes and come from a womb. It feels literary, doesn't it, as if we are characters in books....there is a knowing I feel that guides me toward better stories, toward being a better character. I believe there is a writer outside ourselves, plotting a better story for us, interacting with us, even, and whispering a better story into our consciousness.'

Do I live this way? Sometimes it's easier to live in my head. To dream about a life I would desire....to let it slip by me unnoticed, like a beautiful flower growing in the crack of an old stone wall. I think we get scared, and it paralyzes our dreams and desires, our passions....and ultimately our very selves.

When I think of one thing that scares me, almost above all others....it's being vulnerable in writing. It's so easy to go and read someone else's blog, someone else's book. Instead of picking up the pen myself.

So this week, I'm going to try something. I am going to attempt to put some writing on the page every day this week. And see what happens. I guess it's like a muscle. Like training for a race you've always wanted to do, actually finding that recipe and making that loaf of bread, like opening that box of photos and beginning to fashion them into a story on a page.

Here's to the plunge....

Calling Forth Strength.

2011-02-17T09:04:00.000Z

I was just thinking how tired I am of 'pressing through', of trusting for a job, a flatmate. This desert, this wasteland of postponement. I'm tired of it. I ask, rather tentatively and with a slight angle of self-pity, 'have I learned this lesson yet?' Oh silly girl. And then I read these words of David, a song he wrote at the end of his life....

'The LORD is my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer;

my God is my Rock in whom I take refuge,

my Shield and the Horn of my Salvation.

He is my Stronghold, my Refuge, and my Saviour....'

(2 Samuel 22:2-3)

I've read over and over that phrase 'horn of my salvation', and its corresponding footnote: 'horn here symbolises strength'. I thought little about it. But today, it stood out to me....Why is it that a horn symbolises strength? Why is strength tied to salvation, of all things?....And then it reminded me of something. You know in Narnia, when Father Christmas gives Susan the horn, he says that whenever she blows it HELP WILL COME.....'Trust in this horn, Susan.' In battles where one is surrounded, horns call troops together, they call forth the strength inside and out. They call forth salvation.....But I have to trust that when I call out in my utter abandoned need, He - the God of the Ages - will answer.

For He Himself, in a strange and wonderful twist, IS my Horn of Salvation. Jesus called out with His last breath, 'It is finished'....a call that has reverberated throughout history. A call of overwhelming victorious strength and salvation.

I'm speechless in the face of this revelation. Shall we not trust?

Sparkly.

2011-02-12T09:50:00.000Z

'In all seriousness, though, if I don't have the ring in time....can I ask you anyway?'

'As long as you have a bit of string or something, of course,' I replied.

The hopeful (and realist?) side of me was thinking, 'You complete and utter LIAR.' The other half (which tends to hold more sway) was chiding the romantic in me saying, 'Don't get your hopes up, Grace....this is rubbish. I was hoping he had it already.'

But as a girl, one cannot - absolutely cannot - get one's hopes up too high or one shall feel like a very sad, demanding girl. And we cannot have that. Ever. :)

In the course of the evening he said, 'There is somewhere I've discovered in the city that I wanted to take you to. I found it while you were away....but I kinda want it to be a surprise.'

I suggested that I blindfold myself. Bizzare, I know, but kinda fun.

So that exchange happened on Friday night, last.

Saturday morning rolled around and consisted of porridge, Miranda, rugby highlights, and coffee (ohhhh yes). I didn't notice anything strange....I thought I would, seeing as Gordon has a semi-irrational fear of losing things from pockets, not locking doors, and leaving lights on. I only noticed he seemed strange once, when he was delaying going. But come half past two in the afternoon, we started off in the First Choice van filled to the brim with boxes and bits and bobs. Me blindfolded, listening to BBC radio 1, in all its dance-tune glory. It was only a short, twenty minute drive. If you've never been blindfolded in a car before, I can highly recommend it. It's rather fun to not know where you're going, to feel the lay of the roads. I remember as a kid, I would lay down in the back seat of our car and close my eyes, trying to make myself disoriented so that I'd be surprised when we got home (did you ever do that?). It never really worked, seeing as I usually did it on the way home from church.....and we did that drive far to frequently for any part of the road to be unfamiliar. But I digress.

We parked, and he led me - still blindfolded - to the entrance of our walk. Now you have to know, that that day was a no-make-up-waterproof-jacket-kinda-day. It was overcast and gray. When he took off the blindfold (much to my relief as my overdeveloped sense of self-consciousness was seriously kicking in), I saw we were in a deep, forested vale. I instantly guessed we were in one of three places in the city (Crammond, Morningside, or Blackford Hill)....though I kept those guesses to myself, of course. We sallied forth onto the muddy path, passing dogs and their humans along the way. There was a hermitage, an old dove coat, and some lovely bridges over streams. As soon as we began the ascent, I knew we must be near Blackford Hill. Then I saw the top and it was for certain. I said, 'Do you remember the last time we were here? It was during the height of awkwardness before you asked me out last January.' He replied, 'Yeahhh....I thought I'd redeem it.' :) I had been thinking during the walk, 'I wonder if he'll ask me today?' But that cynic again quickly quieted the romantic and said, 'SHHH. Don't be silly, of course he won't.' And that was that.

We sat on the edge. Eating apples. Then we walked closer to the cliff, overlooking the whole of Edinburgh, including Arthur's Seat, the Firth, and behind us was the Pentlands. Unfortunately, one could see Appleton Tower as well. :) He apologised saying, 'Last time I was here, it was lovely and frosty and golden.' That day, it was cold, windy, and I couldn't really feel my hands anymore - so we agreed to go. As we turned, Gordon bent down to tie his shoe laces. Now, you must understand, that as avid Office fans, Gordon had been doing this to me for the past wee while (year?) as we walked in the city.....bending down on one knee and then tying his shoes. Fortunately he actually did need to tie his shoes in this moment.

So being the good girlfriend that I was, I turned with my back to him to survey the Pentlands (they are so beautiful.....) and thought no more of it. Until....I heard from behind me, 'Uhhh....Grace?' I turned around.

And there he was, bent on one knee, holding a wee green box.

I don't quite know what my face looked like in that moment, but the first words out of my mouth were, 'You loser!' Poor man. We just froze there for a moment, and then he said, 'Would you like to be my wife?'

I somehow temporarily lost the ability to speak.

But in my shock and unbelief, I managed to fumble out, 'Yes. Yes I would!' He instantly stood up and as he was trying to open the box, said, 'I've got a ring too. Would you like to see it?' Again, I answered, 'Yes!' He opened the box and I saw, before me, the perfectest ring ever. 'Where....when?' I asked how old it was, because it looked like an antique ring. He said, 'That's the only thing, it isn't an antique....but the diamond is....' And then I realised that I totally recognised the diamond - it was my mum's.

By this point I was utterly overwhelmed by the magnitude and beauty of it all. 'How? Why? God....' Were the thoughts rushing through my head. I put out my hand and he asked, 'Is this the right hand?' As he slipped it on my left ring finger. 'Yes', I somehow managed to say.

After dinner and drinks and celebrationings....In the quiet, the overwhelmingness of it all kept me awake. So I baked. Sad, I know. Oh well!

And that was it folks. I wish I had words to describe how I feel, but I don't. Let me just say one thing, though....The wait was worth it. And I'm not just talking about the wait to kiss, though that was nice too. :) But I'm talking about the wait for the fulfillment of the promises. We called Nana the next night and she said the most beautiful things....'God's save a special one for you, Grace. He's so full of joy!' And it's true. I could say so much more about the goodness of God in this. His faithfulness to me in my doubting and bewilderment and moaning for those two years. He knew the end of the matter before the beginning. He knew. But He didn't tell me in my tears. He waited....because the journey, the story, is the most beautiful part of all.

'Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love

and His wonderful deeds for men,

for He satisfies the thirsty

and fills the hungry with good things.'

(Psalm 107)

Wednesday Morning Musings.

2011-01-22T23:36:00.001Z

Oh what a sunrise this morning. And what a morning it has been. I groggly woke up and instantly realised it was unnervingly light outside. Between opening my eyes and reaching for my phone to see the time, my stomach seemed to disappear. 7:40, it read. And I won't repeat the next word that came out of my mouth. You see, that is the time that I need to leave the house.

Thanks to the wonder of lighting speed showers and wonderfully efficient mothers, I was out of the house at 7:58. Coffee in hand.

This whole time, I was muttering to myself, 'I can't believe I forgot to set my alarm last night....God, why? You know I love waking up and having time to get ready....And read with You over breakfast' (that last comment might have been my foolish attempt to guilt trip God....bad move, even if it is true). Cause you see, I do love it. Especially when I'm stressed and lacking sleep.

It was as my face hit the frosty air with a snap and I saw the breathtaking sunrise that He began to speak. First, it was a whisper of His delight in delighting me with beauty. Then, as I walked (ran) to the station, the tones became more distinct....'I'm faithful.' As I stood on the platform, I remembered what I had prayed the night before. The stress was illogically creeping up on me again, closing my thoughts and making my heart do odd things, my whole body tensing up. As I was about to turn off my light, I had cried out, 'Lord, You know how hard it's been for me to fall asleep lately....please, You are faithful. Remind me? Please, I know I can't make this go away, so I'm just going to have to choose to trust in You. Please help.'

I asked to be reminded of His faithfulness.

So, as I am sitting in a crowded, commuter-filled train on a normal Wednesday morning, the God of universe, space, and time, has chosen to draw near to me and remind me of His goodness and faithfulness towards this fumbling daughter. He woke me up. God was my alarm clock today. So the answer to my queries about why He'd take away my usual time with Him? A smile. A smile comes from His face as He says, 'I wanted to reveal my nearness in a new way. I've got you. Safe and secure.'

The knowledge of His love towards me is too great for 8:38 am. He never changes and He never fails. Great is His love and faithfulness. My doubting, anxious heart has been quelled and calmed. Quieted in the sea of stillness, trusting once again....on that journey of trust....it is constant, yet full of beautiful sunrises of God's unchanging, never ending loving-kindness.

Incarnation

2010-12-26T16:03:00.001Z

Incarnation

The cloak of flesh upon Him came,

Corporeal wholeness of perfection.

Slipping through the gates of earth,

His otherness enters time, diminished.

The glory of His eyes are dimmed,

His feet leadened, dust clinging on.

Constrained vastness of presence,

Holiness heard in the cry of a babe.

With heights of favour and depths of scorn,

He'll grow in wisdom, eternal and sure.

Picking up His father's iron and wood,

The carvings of His path will begin.

Hands of splinters and eyes of salt,

He speaks and loves and hears.

Not ease nor comfort shall He know,

Longing and pain haunt Him ever.

This crownless Prince will carry

The load of humanity's shame,

From east to west He'll rend the curtain;

Bringing home the lost and broken.

The paradox of body and soul,

In humble majesty shall endure.

History's fabric rewoven with grace,

In the oneness of God and Man.

Yet for now, the whispers take form,

As the Great Coming is heralded.

Almighty dwells here, Emmanuel,

And the universe reverberates resurrection.

Our King - our glorious, majestic, humble, tangible, King - overflowing with love and grace for us all.....has arrived. What a cause to rejoice.....

Safety.

2010-11-30T17:59:00.000Z

What is my object in life? I hide away, afraid to step out. I mark and label boxes, and place inside the unacceptable parts of me. They are stacked neatly away. Just in case of a fire. Is my object, then, safety? It certainly is safe to hide away. I can walk quite normally about, unafraid that I might be seen.
Oh dear. To be seen. That would plunge my heart into turmoil. Would I be unacceptable....or worse....Would I be unintelligible? So much of who I am seems to be lost in translation, that it becomes easier to hide away. To forget parts of me. To masquerade as someone else. Some one understandable. Quantifiable.
But oh what a dead place safety is. What a damp, dark habitat my soul becomes. And oh how tired. To unpack those boxes and remember my self would demand vulnerability, persistence, and freedom. Things I cannot have on my own.

And maybe that's the point.

In the act of opening, I must trust in someone greater to love me enough to give me the freedom to be persistently vulnerable. To be able to trust in those who say they love me. Then I can pull out the artifacts from the boxes and set them back in their places.
Safety. It's dangerous and alluring. Lonely and deadening. Vulnerability and trust? Painful and honest. But beautifully freeing.

Guest Post

2010-11-28T19:20:00.000Z

http://www.carolinecollie.com/

: )

Unlovely Love.

2010-11-09T00:01:00.000Z

Do you ever sometimes feel like the very worst version of yourself? I do. And then I'm reminded....

Unlovely Love
The unlovely parts of me,
    tumbled deep within my soul,
call from the hidden furrows
    entrenched in cloud and mist.

The unlovely parts of me,
    are dark and twisted things.
intent on veiled silence,
    yet crying in the cold.

The unlovely parts of me,
    wreathed in fear and shame,
quieted by failures numbered
    and lost in darkened moors.

The unlovely parts of me,
    first drew your heart to mine
through the fog of doubt,
    the torch glimmered amongst the trees.

The unlovely parts of me
    collapsed in numb dampness
I fell, enfolded in your arms.
    the light flickered at our feet.

The unlovely parts of me,
   all broken, shattered, tired,
sat there, with you, in the glade.
   In stillness. In peace.

The unlovely parts of me,
    began to dissolve in warmth
icy fingers tingled with sence,
    awoken to movement and touch.

The unlovely parts of me
    breathed in the breath of Life
my soul, in lyrical freedom,
    became the birdsong of dawn.

I find that my soul, though it is filled with shame, longs to be seen. So intent on being silent, yet crying out with no sound....longing to be heard. And you are heard. You are seen. We are loved. Even the unlovely bits. Jesus has a messy love for us. It doesn't conform, and it is most certainly not convenient. Sometimes it demands that I accept it and believe it, when all I long to do is stay curled up in an over-sized jumper in a cold corner. He loves me at inconvenient times, and in rather inconvenient ways. I want to believe the worst, He speaks the best over me.

It's taken a long time for me to let myself accept His love, or the beginnings of it. My perfectionist aims starved my soul for the very thing it craved, telling it, 'This is off limits. You don't deserve this. Don't eat of it. Put it to the side, unwrapped, like a longed for and delicious piece of dark chocolate.' I was treating His love like an elaborate French dessert, rather than a warming soup or a sustaining piece of fresh bread. His love is definitely both (it's what we need and it's so much more - a delicacy). But in my twisted and tangled desires to be perfect for myself and all those around me, I starved myself from the very SOURCE I desperately needed. Like I said....twisted and tangled. Is your heart craving love? Is it shriveling up and dying? I found that in telling myself that His love was off limits, that I must strive and DO to earn the right to stand before Him (cause heaven forbid if I came to Him broken and vulnerable!), it was then that the very parts of my soul that made me ME started to die. Without sustainance, we die.

When I open my hands wide to receive Love....Oh my. The relief and joy my soul feels is akin to one who, after hours of trying to wash a permanent stain out, is handed a clean and vibrant new shirt....of one who climbing the same mountain for years turns a corner that was there all the time and realises that the need to climb is gone....the view is right there before her.

It is in this act of surrender that I realise afresh how great and beautiful Jesus is. I wish my broken words could describe Him, but they will always fall short. I can't wait until I can see Him face to face. Until then, it's in the quietness and stillness that I'll know and remember....He is Lord. And our Lord is Love.

My soul rejoices in His unlovely love.

Woman, why are you crying?

2010-10-24T17:27:00.000+01:00

Do you ever find that in amongst the daily-ness of life, you lose Jesus? Somehow, I lose my Saviour and I wake up dry....Starved for love. Or maybe you feel like Jesus' presence has been taken away from your life? Snatched? And you don't know where He's gone.

Maybe I look for Him in the wrong places. In tombs. And that's why I feel empty.
Mary was the same....She went to the last place she saw Jesus. She was dwelling in the death of her Lord. Not realising that Sunday morning had already come and the Resurrection had happened.

'Then the disciples went back to their homes, but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and she saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
They asked her, "Woman, why are you crying?"
"They have taken my Lord away," she said, "And I don't know where they have put Him."
At this, she turned around and SAW Jesus standing there, but she did not realise that it was Jesus.
"Woman," He said, "Why are you crying? Who is it that you are looking for?"
Thinking He was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him."
Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned toward Him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!"
Jesus said, "Do not hold onto me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"
Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news, "I have seen the Lord!" And she told them that He had said these things to her.'
(John 20:12-18).

I love that all Jesus says to her is simply her name, and then her eyes are opened and she can see Him before her. I love that I can simply turn around, turn a corner, and You are there. You lift me up even when I have given up. Jesus you are FAITHFUL to us. You don't meet us in tombs, but You call us out of them into life.

He asks you, in the most gentle and humble way, 'Why are you crying?' For me, I was weeping because I had lost the only satisfying love I have ever found, and I was wasting away. It's so easy to do, whether it's on holiday or in the day to day sameness of routine. But the strength, enduring, and persistent love of Jesus overwhelms me. It will aways and forever astound me why He constantly and consistently seek me out. And what can I say in response?

A quiet 'Thank you.'

(A Sick Woman)

2010-09-23T13:18:00.002+01:00

     Luke tells this story. It begins with a crowd, full of expectation of what Jesus would do and say. And into the midst of this crowd runs a desperate father named Jairus. His only daughter, who was only about twelve year's old, was dying. Jesus responds, and follows Jairus through the streets. As He walks, I imagine they are walking at quite a pace. But the crowds are making it difficult, they are pressing about Him on all sides....
    ....I then read these words, 'And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her.' These words make me pause. This woman had lived in isolation and shame because of her sickness. Her pain kept her in a place of devastating aloneness. What she suffered from was not acceptable to be around. Blood was unclean. She was dirty and unheal-able. For twelve years she was told (and no doubt told herself) again and again, 'You must remain in seclusion. You cannot be made well and whole. You cannot be free.'
The words and the silence, the shame and the disgrace, wearing down the last vestiges of her strength.
     Then, somehow, she hears of this Man. This Miracle-Working Man, who has set people free time and time again. Perhaps it was the stories of the lepers (also excluded and isolated in their unacceptable pain), or maybe it was the blind beggar who was thrown out of the synagogue for defending Jesus' healing power. Whatever it was, it called to her downtrodden and seemingly faithless heart. It spoke of HOPE. And it was this Living Hope, this Word of Life, that drew her out of her isolation and depression. It called so firmly and overwhelmingly that she left her place of hidden shame and stepped outside. She broke the law. She went against the conventions of religion and society and showed herself, vulnerable in her sickness and pain. In a faith of desperation she steps out.
Not only does she step out, but she reaches out. She touches the very edge of His cloak, and immediately her bleeding stops. Jesus stops. He, in a persistent and intentional voice asks, 'Who touched me?'. People denied it; His disciples questioned the sanity of His inquiry. But Jesus remained persistent, 'Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.'
    It is then that this woman, trembling, steps forward again. She knew in this moment she couldn't go unnoticed (so great was her sickness, and how obvious was her healing!)....But how scared she was still. Imagine. This crowd must have been overwhelming to someone who had been in isolation for twelve years. With an irregularly beating heart, still reeling (and possibly still overwhelmed in her unbelievable healing), she came forward and fell at Jesus' feet. And then in an act of incredible bravery she tells, 'in the presence of all the people', why she had come out from her pain and touched Jesus' cloak.....and how she was healed. Then Jesus says some of the most beautiful words anyone can hear. He says, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.' He calls this woman, who to everyone else was a stranger to Him,....He calls her daughter and He imparts a peace into her heart that completes the healing. A peace she's never known before. The beauty and depth of these words overwhelms me.

    Sometimes I think we feel like what we struggle with is not acceptable. We tell ourselves, 'I should know better. I shouldn't have to struggle with this. Why is this affecting me?'....I know that in myself there's a constant dialogue. It speaks of a standard of perfection that I try to live up to. And when I constantly fall short, when the hidden pains and sicknesses of my heart surface, I feel guilty. Guilty that I (I of all people?) struggle. I should be over this, shouldn't I? I feel unheal-able.

    But oh what lies those words are! What poisonous, deadly words those are that we can choose to listen to in the solitary moments and times of waiting in our lives. So it is then in a desperate act of vulnerable faith that I must step out. I have heard whispers and stories of the Healer....that His hands are gentle and humble and able to heal. All the same, it's scary, it's hard to admit your sickness and brokenness.....But the abandonment of self in that moment enables the freedom and healing of Jesus to rush into my life.

    Yet we sometimes can't stop at stepping out (of the boat, of the house,....), but we have to then reach out. Ask, seek, AND knock. And then we have to step out again. Do you know what gives me the faith to step out, ask, and to be persistent, though? It's what happens right after this story. Right after this woman is healed, a man comes up to Jesus and Jairus to say, 'Your daughter is dead....don't bother the teacher anymore.' And do you know? Jesus goes anyway. He says, 'Don't be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed'. Jairus, having just seen a healing, decides to believe Jesus. And the daughter was raised from the dead. Jesus isn't 'bothered' by our sickness. He isn't 'bothered' in the matter of our healing. HE CARES. Oh how He cares.

    I don't pretend to know how healing works all the time, nor do I believe in a formula. But all I do know is this....I have caught a glimpse of this Man. This Miracle-Working, Word of Life, Living Hope....And He tells me to trust. He tells me to 'always pray and not give up' (Luke 18). He tells me that I will look back on this time and wonder, 'Why did I not trust and rest in You?' He longs to heal me, to bring me into freedom....Jesus? Help me to trust You.

'I remember my affliction and my wandering,
    the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
    for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for Him."
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him,
    to the one who seeks Him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.'
(Lamentations 3:19-26).

The Consolation of My Soul.

2010-09-10T23:16:00.004+01:00

Sometimes I can't measure the journeys and secret pathways that God leads me on. Sometimes that's frustrating. Do you ever feel like the thing you've been holding out for might never come to pass? That you'll be forever in this waiting, hidden and unable to move forward? I can see the future, that 'city of promises', but how do I get there? What am I supposed to be doing? What should I be doing?.....Do. Do. Do.

So here I am. A year later. Still no job. Still nothing to sink my hands into. Still waiting.

I turn inward asking myself how I've grown and what progress I've made....and it's all rather fuzzy. Like a photo that's out of focus. And maybe that's the point? It's not finished yet. I can't really quantify what this past year has done in my heart, soul, and mind. But somehow I feel it's bigger than that. It's about sitting at His feet, and resting. Worshipping. Sometimes it isn't about the service that we can give, and what we can do....sometimes He wants us all to Himself. I feel like He's always convicting me of this. Christ's gentle hand comes down on my shoulder and He stops me saying, 'Sit down, my dear. Tell me about your day.'

But even with the knowledge that Jesus is here, that I can hear His voice, anxiety grows within me. Tenseness comes. The worries of life press down upon me. I cry out....

'Come Thou down unto me, come and replenish me early with Thy comfort, lest my soul faint for weariness and dryness of mind. This (grace) alone is my strength; this alone giveth counsel and help. This is stronger than all enemies, and wiser than all the wise. Thy grace is the mistress of truth, the teacher of discipline, the light of the heart, the solace in affliction, the banisher of sorrow, the expeller of fear, the nurse of devotion, the mother of tears.'

(Thomas a Kempis)

I've been pondering a lot this past wee while about the emptying of the self, so that the presence and fullness of God Himself can come rushing in. Throughout the day, whenever my heart races or my mind is crushed with the seemingly impossibilities of my circumstances, He has been whispering to me, 'Breathe, my daughter. Breathe. Abide in me, and I will abide in you. Dwell in my rest, and accept my calm.'

'My daughter, the more thou canst go out of thyself, so much the more wilt thou be able to enter into me. As to be devoid of all desire of external things, produceth inward peace, so the forsaking of ourselves inwardly, joineth us unto God...Follow thou me: "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Without the Way, there is no going; without the Truth, there is no knowing; without the Life, there is no living. I am the Way, to which thou oughtest to follow; the Truth, which thou oughtest to trust; the Life, which thou oughtest to hope for. I am the Inviolable Way, the Infallible Truth, the True, the Blessed, the Uncreated Life. If thou abide in my way, thou shalt know the Truth, and the Truth shall make thee free, and thou shalt attain eternal life.'

(Thomas a Kempis)

It's the accepting that's hard, though, isn't it? Sometimes I find the love of the Father too great. Too glorious. And the love of those He's placed about me is too overwhelming.....Why is it so hard to accept? Perhaps that's a question for another time.

'His will is our peace: it is the sea

into which all currents and streams

empty themselves, for eternity.'

(Dante Alighieri)

When Anxiety is Great Within Me....

Heart-tenseness swallows my sight as

My rigid limbs refuse to obey commands;

Furrowed brows of lost pathways

Through the mind's agitated rememberings.

My throat closes over, restricting

Breaths, shallow in the heat of thought

Swirling, whirling, twisting, falling,

Dark. Yet ever awake and watchful.

Tired eyes strain to glimpse a ray,

Hope traded on the market of fear,

Cheaply consumed; compressed, confused.

Anxiety? Why have you beset me?

I want to melt in to nothingness;

To turn away from this path,

My heart sick with hopelessness.

I feel betrayed, forgotten, alone.

'So did I,' whispers the still,

Quiet Voice. Gentle. Humble.

'In the night of my soul,

The cup was (too) bitter.'

'But in three suns' and moons' distance

Life came pouring into my fibre.

The crushing power of peace

Restored the muchness of me.'

'I AM (who was the I WAS and

Will be the I WILL BE)

Able, un-overwhelmed, victorious.

And that same muchness is yours, eternally.'

....Your consolation brings joy to my soul (Psalm 94:19).

Broken Tears.

2010-08-07T11:27:00.001+01:00

I can weep no more,
The cascade has finished.
My eyes flutter open
To a performance of dust.

I smile, I laugh
Inside I shake and grieve;
Grieve for my heart,
Torn and shattered.

                             If only I could cry one tear.
                             If only I could speak one fear.

My tongue has been tied;
Knot upon knot binds
My soul from speaking,
My lips voice only lies.

I thought You promised
an end, a beginning.
Surely it's Spring's turn for
Winter has ravished me.

                             Broken tears surround
                             My fears, as waves pound.

My power lifeless beside me,
Unable to lift its head.
Measured breaths, shallow lungs;
A silenced voice, heavy ears.

Tears, bottled and labeled,
Fetching a fair price.
The precious liquid sold;
Validated worthlessness.

                               Poured onto parched land,
                               Futile dust in my hand.

The wind begins to blow
Whispers, whispers rushing
Through my soul
Of a Voice I used to know.

Echoes from the past,
Images flicker by;
My eyes remember
A distant, courageous song.

                              Fading and growing,
                              Persistently flowing.

Quietly, quietly Your eyes
Stir my heart
The Beginning has arrived
And the Light of Glory invades.

Incessantly through my defenses
The Truth cuts and divides
I gasp for breath as
The cool grass caresses my face.

                              The wind of grace
                              Fills this space.

Draw to this quiet meadow,
Upon this silent hill
Purple and blue fill the sky
And my heart tentatively beats.

Questions unanswered, sorrow remains
But Your hand is outstretched
And I have seen your eyes
Full of broken tears of grace.

                                I lay by a tree,
                                As the tears flow free.

I wrote this almost a year ago as I listened to this song. It's such a vivid song, if you know what I mean. Anyway....Here are some other words that I read last night that say it miles better and in a much simpler way (isn't that generally the case?).....

For He is the Very Rest.
God wishes to be known,
And it pleases Him that
We rest in Him;
For all that is beneath Him
Will never satisfy us.
Therefore no soul is rested
Till it is emptied of all things
that are made.
When, for love of Him,
It is empty,
The soul can
Receive His deep rest.
-Julian of Norwich, 14th century

tea for one.

2010-06-10T22:50:00.003+01:00

Hello.

I was taking a nap in the conservatory this afternoon in the sun and all the sudden a monsoon was let loose. I figured there was no better time for a cup of tea than that. And of course, it must be done properly. Michelle, you would be proud. :)

I like being alone. If this past year has taught me nothing else, it's that. I was always that loner child who went away upstairs to finish her book (or finish that story she was making up with her dolls....if I'm honest). I do enjoy disappearing into a story by myself. I love shopping by myself, poking about in old bookstores and 'nesting' shops (you know what I mean....). And nothing is quite as delicious as walking by myself, meandering through the streets and hazy corners of the lovely city I am so privileged to live in just now.

But I do come to the point where I tire of myself. I find that my own company can get both tedious and, if it wills, can take a dangerous turn. As much as I love to contemplate, analyse, theorise, and ponder....I find that my mind can so very easily fall into 'the depths of despair' (as Anne Shirley would so dramatically phrase it). I look into myself, I look about me,....and ultimately, as nice and glorious as walks, books, and beautiful things are....there's something that remains unfulfilled in me. A longing that burns, insatiable within me. I speak of the longing of intimacy, the longing to be known and to know. Have you ever felt this well up in your soul? The longing to freely, and without fear, be wholly vulnerable before someone.

Do you ever get despairing when you look about you? When you see all the pain and hurt? I guess living in a city throws it in my face on a daily basis. But to be honest, just living in a family does that too. Disfunction, hurt, and selfishness plays out on the small stage as well as the universal one.

It is almost worse, though, when you look to yourself for comfort (for those little things in life that bring you joy and consolation) and you can no longer find it. Beauty and joy in the enjoyment of life - the long walks, the good food, the cup of coffee, the well written book - are wonderful, don't get me wrong....but they can never fully console my heart when it feels alone. When the loneliness creeps up on my almost unawares and a shadow descends. Or when the despair at my own twisted and tangled mess of a heart slowly drains the hope I have for the future, the joy at any prospect or any bend in the road, out of me.

What do I do then? To where, to whom, do I turn?

And I think here lies the choice in paths. There are three places that I can look to. I, myself, can attempt to patch up, to infuse with life through the various ways that usually ignite my soul. If that fails, I can look to the gloriously beautiful saints that surround me. Deep friendship rarely disappoints and can fulfill the longing in ways that being alone can't (they fulfill different aspects of the longing, I think)....But my fears are too big; my insecurities loom too large for any one person (myself or other) to quell. The condemnation my own heart breathes upon me is too great, the burden of pain is too heavy.

Why do I find that life can so easily be sucked out of me? The wind can so quickly die away. Why is that?

And so I turn. Before me lies the last path. And yes, it is the road less traveled by. I think I am beginning to understand why. It is a road that calls for a balance between loneliness and parasitical dependence, between self-sufficiency and self-indulgence, between drawing away into a fortress and letting all the walls crumble down. The hardest part about this road? It calls for an open and vulnerable heart, yet a recognition that to live in that way is beyond your own means. Along this way, I am required to live in such a way that I am free from my own binding self-enamorment, yet recognising that I am completely dependent upon Someone else to supply the ability to repair and restore the brokenness that will be encountered from leading a life that cares not if it is called to give up all.

How is this done?

I come back to the longing. The longing to be known and to know. The only place that I find the freedom and ability to live along that path, is when I surrender all. When I surrender my self-consciousness, my self-loathing, my self-obsessions, at the feet of the One who has been faithful to me my whole life. Jesus. This Man. This God. It is at His feet alone that I find freedom from myself, for it is at His feet alone that I am KNOWN. I can set my heart at rest in His presence because He is greater than my heart and He knows everything (1 John). And when He looks at my heart, He does not condemn it. 'Thou art not more holy, though thou be praised; nor the more worthless, though thou be dispraised. What thou art, that thou art; neither canst thou be said to be greater than what thou art in the sight of God. If thou considers what thou art within thee, thou wilt not care what man say of thee' (Thomas a Kempis, 'The Imitation of Christ'). It is when Jesus speaks to me of my value in His eyes, when I look up into His face and know that I am known....That is when I find I have the strength to stand up, a wee bit unsteadily, but standing up nonetheless.

Now, the other half of that longing....to know? Well....the most incredible thing is that this God-Man promises to us that we can KNOW Him. And that knowledge of Him IS ETERNAL LIFE. 'Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent' (John 17).

And that....that right there, enables me to not just stand there gazing into His face, the glory of which will never grow dim.....No....not only that, but I find strength that is not my own begin to course through my veins; and a smile finds itself upon my face that is reflective of the smile I find on His. It is in the freedom of the knowledge that all my strength and all my joy and all my purpose comes from Him alone. Our Lord and Saviour is glorious, is He not? And when He is present, all fears are loved away. For He Himself is our Perfect Love. 'When Jesus is present, all is well, and nothing seems difficult; but when Jesus is absent, everything is hard. When Jesus speaks not inwardly to us, all other comfort is without value; but if Jesus speaks but one word, we feel great consolation...He that findeth Jesus findeth a good treasure, yea, a Good above all good...thou oughtest to be naked and open before God, ever carrying thy pure heart toward Him, if thou wouldest be free to consider and see how sweet the Lord is' (Thomas a Kempis, 'The Imitation of Christ'). For the 'pure in heart shall see God' (Matthew)....and that purity comes from covenant that Jesus bound Himself to with us when He rose again.

And that....that path....I choose Him. It's an hourly thing, I find....but even in the darkness or uncertainty, the shifting fog or dull complacency,....I choose Him.

'And truly, unless thou be prevented and drawn by His grace, thou shalt never attain to that happiness to forsake and cast off all, that thou alone mayest be united to Him alone. For when the grace of God cometh unto a woman, then she is made able to do all things....in this case, thou oughtest not to be dejected, not to despair; but in God's will to resist steadily, and whatever comes upon thee, to endure it for the glory of Jesus Christ; for after winter followeth summer, after night the day returneth, and after a tempest, a great calm' (Thomas a Kempis, 'The Imitation of Christ').

Wow....apologies for the length. I should update more frequently so it isn't such a mega-splurge! :)

A Breath Caught.

2010-03-23T14:12:00.000Z

Sometimes I find it hard to be transparent on the page. Sometimes I wish I could just open up my life, like a zipper, and be honest with everyone. Do you ever feel boxed in? Trapped? Tied down? In the haze of my own perspectives I find I am lost in all that I find wrong with myself. I've realised in the past couple of days how truly crippling self-loathing and self-accusation can be. I feel like a self-obsessed monster railing about inside skin, whilst on the outside I long to appear nice, lovely, and caring to all. And then I try to fight that monster and feel condemned because of her beastliness. In other words, I condemn myself for feeling bad about my shame.....I 'should be' over this, shouldn't I? I think it's easy to be disguisted with myself. I've been questioning why I care for people. Is it because I care or because I want people to think I care and because it will make me feel better because it is the right thing to do? Like it's a kind of compensation for something.

Do you know what I mean? I feel like I'm talking in circles....maybe I am. It must be the fine line between receiving conviction and turing it into self-condemnation. It's exhausting demanding perfection from yourself when you won't ever be. Do you ever get tired of the up and down? Don't you wish you could just live in refreshing all the time?

JESUS.

So it comes to the point where I cry out to Him. And I'm ashamed to say it isn't necessarily because I want to. I almost want to run away and hide because of my shame. This self-condemnation and sin that I feel piled on top of me. I feel so dirty and, like Adam and Eve, just want to hide away. But oh how much I need You. So I turn to Him (again) because it's the only place I know to go. I need You.....I need You to be my Saviour. Today, as every day. I don't deserve to even breathe. But you call us to lay our burdens down at your feet and with You find life, freedom, forgiveness, love, and GRACE. So I cry out for help. Help me to take the healthy level of conviction and let the condemnation roll away.

And then it comes. As ever. Forever. Even if it isn't consistent at the moment, and even if I wish I could dwell in it forever, getting frustrated at myself because I don't know why it keeps disappearing. His voice. When I feel the most full of shame and disgrace, He comes and says, 'Who you are is acceptable to Me.' Say what?? Do you all remember that story of the sinful woman who bathes Jesus' feet in her perfume and tears, wiping away the dirt with her own hair? Jesus, You said, 'Simon, I have something to tell you....I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.' Growing up, I always equated myself to the one who loves little because I don't have a mega-uber-awesome-sounding story to tell....just a quiet story of God's faithfulness and grace towards me. But the more I condemn myself and pour hot shame onto my soul in self-inflicted penance for all I find wrong and ugly in my heart, I realise.....I identify with that sinful woman. I feel so dirty. So unworthy. So unlovely to my very core. Jesus, You go on to say, 'Your sins are forgiven'. When all the other guests question and challenge Your actions after that, You simply ignore them and say to her, 'Your faith has saved you; go in peace.' (Luke 7:36-50). And that same faith You pour into our hearts (Ephesians 2). Go in peace. The more our sin overwhelms us, the more we should RUN to Him. Lay it down at His feet again. At the throne of mercy....clutching only to the promise of His grace. For it is when my sin paralyses me in self-loathing and accusation that these words call out their beautiful freedom....'You are forgiven. Your sins, your many many sinse are forgiven. Go in peace. The faith I have given you has saved you because you came to Me to receive. I will never, ever stop loving you.'

His grace catches my breath and lays waste to my soul again. I write now not out of a place of steady refreshing (I'd still quite like to run away - it's been the plan for a couple of years now, actually)....but I do write out of a new found peace in my own brokenness. So I leave you with a prayer. A prayer that Christ will keep our hearts from dwelling in condemnation, and ever to live in the endless freedom of His grace and mercy.

Here's a song of honesty that has been ringing about in the hidden crevices of my heart for the past twenty-four hours.

Dear neglected blank canvas,

2010-03-04T16:54:00.001Z

I have not discounted thee,
    Though I wander and I fret.
    Thy heart is still dear to me,
    Even when I seem to forget.

    Time, Time, it ever rushes
    Onward, permeating and pulling.
    The reaches of my mind it pushes
Me, almost to breaking.

   Yet I shall return,
   One day near at hand
   And maybe I shall learn
   How to stop and stand.

   For my mind is rekindled and bright;
   My soul? Liberated daily.
   Shall I be still for this Light,
   That calls to me so wondrously?

   I answer firmly assured
   That Time shall not defeat
   Thy voice; for it has secured
   My own heart's faltering beat.

   I shall write to thee soon....

Love and Friendship

2010-01-22T23:20:00.002Z

Being in community is hard. It's tough man. Sometimes it's painful to open up, to surrender, to be vulnerable, and to show the not-so-well-put-together pieces of your heart. To tear away. But in the end, it's the most glorious way to live your life.

These past two weeks I have felt so very loved, so surrounded. For us, in the community of the love of Christ, when we are perplexed, we are not in despair or abandoned. And this past wee while has taught me that a major reason why that is, is because of those who Christ places around our hearts.

This is not to say that people take the place of Christ in our affections, but they are certainly the holiest and most glorious incarnation of Him in our lives. We are the very image of God, right? And I just want to say how very thankful I am for those that He has placed in my life - past, present, and future....you are all beautiful to me. 'Thankful' seems like such a cheap word, when I consider the depth of what I feel for the people who have surrounded me.....but it's the best I can do.

The bond of friendship is strong, dear hearts. Let us abide in the strength of Love that has been placed in our hearts. Rest in it. Love has come into our hearts, and that is how we shall be known as His - by our love for each other.

'So now I am stuck between hating to let go, and just feeling lucky I have you to miss.'
(Credit to Jane Austen for the title of this post....haha).

With the Dawn of Redeeming Grace.

2010-01-04T21:35:00.000Z

For the past week, my heart has been drawn back again and again to this verse....

'It is good for our hearts to be
strengthened
by grace.'
(Hebrews 13:9)

Even when our hearts yearn deeply in the waiting, even when the sorrow seems too much to bear, and even when the future is frail....We are safe. Dear brother and sister, you can be certain of that for your Hope is firm and secure. We have reached our Safe Harbour, our Desired Haven, for He has come down and reached for us. It's amazing how one can have these same revelations in deeper and newer ways continuously....the revelation of Jesus' everlasting and abiding grace. He is strong enough to keep us and hold us, for WE ARE HIS.
As I walked the dog a couple days after Christmas, I walked past the dentist before 9 am and saw people working there....And I was suddenly afraid I would succumb and forever be doing a job that slowly and surely kills my soul, never moving on or doing what I am meant to do because of fear or indecision. I know that's an unfair judgment on some who have no choice (and not connected whatsoever to dentists!!), but it was what brought up this fear in me. I can sometimes feel like anything I've been blessed with is squandered. Like my life is on hold. And then I read lines like these, 'Think not so much of yourself as a branch, nor of the abiding as your duty, until you have first had your soul filled with the faith of what Christ as the Vine is.' (Andrew Murray, 'Abide in Christ').

REMEMBER. Oh remember my soul, what Christ did for you. How He has SAVED and REDEEMED you when you were but a stranger to His courts. Now look and see, you dwell among His spendour - and indeed IN it (and IT in you!!). Fear not, then, oh my soul....but TRUST. 'Ask the Father by the Holy Ghost to reveal to you what a glorious, loving, mighty Christ this is, in whom you have your place and your life; it is the faith in what Christ is, more than anything else that will keep you abiding in Him.' He told me the other morning, as I was again despairing and doubting, to stop looking at my own heart, and look at His. Accept the faith to trust in Hope again.

So all that to say, I encourage you (as I, too, am encouraged!) to let your heart be strengthened again by grace. I know that, for me at least, when our hearts have been pierced as with many arrows it can be seemingly impossible to trust in that way again. But remember, dear heart, we are placing our trust in The Trustworthy One. I pray that in this time of new beginnings, your heart may be awoken anew again to the beauties of our Lord's grace - the strength and might and glory of it!

'A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever....'

2009-12-06T00:36:00.002Z

'.....It's loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.'

(John Keats)

'God's finger can touch nothing but to mould it into loveliness.'

(George Macdonald)

'God hides nothing. His very work from the beginning

is revelation - a casting aside of veil after veil, a showing

unto men of truth after truth. on and on from fact Divine

He advances, until at length in His Son Jesus He unveils

His very face.'

(George Macdonald)

'God Himself - His thougths, His will, His love, His judgements are men's home. to think His thougths, to choose His will, to judge His judgments, and thus to k,now that He is in us, with us, is to be at home. And to pass through the valey of the shadow of death is the way home, but only thus, that as all changes have hitherto led us nearer to this home, the knowledge of God, so this greatest of all outward changes - for it is but an outward change - will surely usher us into a region where there will be fresh possibilities of drawing night in heart, soul, and mind to the Father of us all.'

(George Macdonald)

I was just thinking this morning on my run in the rain....Jesus....Let this Christmas be full to the brim of the knowledge of Your presence. Let the very light of Your face overwhelm us, Lord. Let the unutterable glory of the Incarnation sweep over our eyes and capture our hearts and minds, enabling us to give You the honour and majesty due Your name....our humbe, Servant King of Kings.

'In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world.'

(Lucy Pevensie, The Last Battle)

Further up and further in.

Unworthy.

2009-11-23T22:17:00.002Z

Why am I myself....and not someone else?

Do you ever feel unworthy to be rescued? Unworthy....I think many times we can define ourselves by this word, even without knowing it. I shrink from rescue. I shrink from the Only True Sufficiency. It's like we are frozen sometimes, unable to move forward where You call, through the threshold and up the last push to the top of the mountain. Unable for this paralysing fear. The struggle and striving is so much easier for it does not require me to trust. I shy away from His embrace, holding the Bible up before my eyes and picturing my Lord as disappointed and fed up with my weakness and pain-filled heart. And my reflection makes for a poor hope. At every turn, losing my way foot by foot, my hurt and pain grows for the wounds cannot be healed by human hands...the poverty of self fills my sight and blinds me.

And then just when we think we cannot move any further, You save us from the snare and set us free. You carry us through the threshold, and up the last hill to the mountaintop. And there You stand amongst the tall, golden grass....clothing us in white. Setting us free into the field of Your grace. Your presence rushes through our souls, O Lord, the feel of which never ever changes. You have been faithful our whole lives. You sing to us, 'I will never leave you'.....so we can trust. For we don't see what You see,....yet. We don't know what You know,....yet. But Your whisper is brushing against our ears....awakening the painful, beautiful longing in my heart.....to see Your face. I will trust that You are my Upholder. You are my All-Sufficiency. You are my Protection, Safety, Strength, and my very Breath.

And even when we feel like all we ask for is rescue, do you know what He says to that? He says, 'I take delight in that'. Rescue away, then, Lord....for I drown when I try to save myself. Is it not beautifully devistating to our self-attempts at salvation that all we have to do is ask?

Your goodness breaks my heart.
My soul bursts with
LONGING to see Your face.

'All He requires of you is to bring to His fullness your emptiness; to His sympathy your grief; to His unerring wisdom your confusion; and to His sheltering wing your temptations and trials.' (Octavious Winslow).

'Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him; do not fret.....though you stumble you will not fall, for the Lord upholds you....we will be protected forever....wait for the Lord and keep His way....He is your stronghold in the time of trouble. The Lord helps us and delivers us from the wicked and saves us, because we take refuge in Him' (Psalm 37).

'To Him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before His glorious presence without fault and with great joy - to the only God our Saviour be glory, majesty, power, and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages now and forevermore! Amen'. (Jude, verses 24 and 25).

'When the heart has learned how entirely powerless it is for one moment to keep itself or bring forth any good, when it has learned how surely and truly God will keep it, when it has, in despair of itself, accepted God's promise to do for it the impossible, it learns to rest in God. In the midst of occupations and temptations, it can wait continually....This waiting is a promise. God's commands are enablings. Gospel precepts are all promises, a revelation of what our God will do for us. When you first begin waiting on God, it is with frequent intermission and failure. But, do believe God is watching over you in love and secretly strengthening you in it. there are times when waiting appears just like losing time, but it is not so. Waiting, even in darkness is unconscious advance, because it is God you have to do with, and He is working in you. God, who calls you to wait on Him, sees your feeble efforts, and works it in you. Your spiritual life is in no respect your own work; as little as you begin it, can you continue it. It is God's Spirit who has begun the work in you of waiting on God. He will enable you to wait continually.' (Andrew Murray, 'Waiting on God').

2009-11-08T20:21:00.002Z

The lark, it waits, its beating breast downcast,
Quiet for the break of day and end of night.
Long has this night laid waste the breath of soul,
Its breadth, the scope, is shrivelled, overstretched.
To duty, honour-bound, it has become
Burdened and shackled to its tree of shame.
The dark of lies, they blight the heart of strength;
In close the walls, the voices overpower.
But hush! Recall, Redemption slew the tree!
Lift up, lift up your eyes my weary child,
Your Hope, once dead, is woke alive again;
Renewed in songs of grace and starfields vast.
Dance now in light of sun and promise old,
New spoken as the spring of joy retold.

Here is Love, vast as the ocean....

2009-10-21T23:07:00.003+01:00

'I need Thee every hour, no tender voice like Thine can peace afford. I need Thee, oh I need Thee, every hour I need Thee. Oh bless me now my Saviour, I come to Thee.' ('I Need Thee Every Hour').
It amazes me that there are no prerequisites, nothing we must do to ready ourselves to walk into the presence of the Almighty God. Indeed, Your presence never, ever leaves, Lord. We do not have to say certain things, pick up all the pieces, or work forward from where we have fallen. No. You bring us in and forward. We do not have to recover lost ground. You nullify that 'lost ground' and hand us Your ground....gained and fully paid for.
Oh how I need Thee.
'The Father in heaven is so interested in His child and so longs to have her life at every step in His will and His love that He is willing to keep her guidance entirely in His own hand. He knows so well that we are unable to do what is really holy and heavenly except as He works it in us, that He means His very demands to become promises of what He will do, in watching over and leading us all the day. We may count on Him to teach us His way, and show us His path in special difficulties and times of perplexity, as well as in the common course of everyday life...He is the only source of wisdom and goodness and is every ready, longing much to be to us all that we can possibly require....If we only saw our God in His love, if we only believed that He waits to be gracious, that He waits to be our life and to work all in us - how this waiting on God would become our highest joy, the natural and spontaneous response of our hearts to His great love and glory! My soul, wait thou only upon God!' (Andrew Murray, 'Waiting on God').

I love old dead guys....especially when their writings correspond with old living guys, colliding together in my life in a single day. It is amazing. I have been pondering on the story of the prodigal son (or, rather, God seems to keep bringing it up in my life) ever since I read Tozer's chapter on the mercy of God. Philip Clarke, author of 'A Heart of Compassion' and founder of CAREconfidential (a support network for pregnancy crisis centres in the UK), retold the story. He concluded with this....
'This parable, in just a few short verses, encapsulates the message of the whole gospel of Jesus Christ. We sin, doing things to hurt God and other people. We are selfish, pleasing ourselves before others. If we are humble enough to recognise that we have made a mess of our lives, we sometimes think we can make things better and earn our salvation by doing something for God. And yet as we draw close to God, and come back to him in repentance, we find a father who has humiliated himself further, through the death of his son on the cross and, in rejecting our worthless offerings, bestows salvation upon us freely and without reserve. This salvation is a salvation of joy, a banqueting feast, an eternal embrace with the father. Heaven exploads with celebration when one person repents and turns back to God.' Clarke then goes on to quote Brennan Manning, 'If God had a face, what kind of face would he make at you right now? Would his face say "When are you going to pull yourself together? I am fed up with you and your hang ups. My patience is exhausted, we are going to have to do a little reckoning"? If God said only one word, would the word be Repent? Or would he say "Thank you. Do you know what a joy it is to live in your heart? Do you know that I have looked upon you and loved you for all eternity"? What would God say? What is the feedback you get from your creator?'

It is in this vast and impenetrable fortress of love that we reside, in this boundless and immeasurable love that we can rest. In the spirit of trying to be vulnerable in this wide open cyberland, I thought I'd put up something I wrote several mornings ago (inspired by a few lines of Tozer's chapter).....

The Return
Slowly I walked up the dark street, along the dusty, humble path. I could see the warm lights from the House ahead. A crowd, as usual, had gathered outside; a crowd of half-curious, half-distainful people. How often had I aloofly been one of that crowd, until my great pride drove me away even when I knew I would have wanted to stay?
As I approached the front gate, this pride again rose up as a lump in my throat. What was I thinking? I again self-doubted my ability to actually go through with this decision. It had made so much sense a week ago when I had begun my journey back. But as I had passed through the familiar fields and towns of my childhood, I was no longer as sure of myself. Standing amongst the crowd at the front gate, the unsurity nearly smothered any last vestige of desire I might have to uproot the pride. How could I return to a Home, to a Father, whom I had stormed out on so long ago? I still remember the shouting. The slamming of doors, blinding shoving things into a small bag as I ran out. But I remember the hurtful words the most. Oh those words. the magnitude of their erroneous and spiteful nature weighed heavy on me. I had wanted Him dead, dead for all the things that I did not understand. For all the 'why's' left unanswered, all the hurts left unaccounted. I knew now how utterly wrong I had been. Yet I stood there, listening to the heckling beside me. It would be easier not to approach the door, easier to exclude myself from this party as I had done so many times before. The warm, friendly, and joyful voices inside haunted me, drawing my heart in an inexpressible way; flooding me with memories.
I remembered the innumerable intricacies of that House. The beautiful, home-like rooms full of handmade craftsmanship. My Father had been a carpenter at one point....He liked to make things with His hands. I remembered the dinners, friendly gatherings, and glad hearts that had so oftened gathered around us in that House. Oh how happy a childhood and youth I had had. When had that seed of resentment, that rift, begun to grow? Self-condemnation overpowered me. How could I have let that happen? I had been given such an incredible gift of a Home, of a Father. I had squandered it, thrown the life back in His face, turned my back, and left. More than that, I had hated Him.
The life I had lived in exchange was no life at all...and now I was returned. Empty-handed. Empty-hearted. I had absolutely nothing to give but a pleading voice, a voice peading for mercy, Would my Father forgive me?....I had nothing else. No other place to go and nothing else to do. I knew that only here would my heart be satisfied again, would I be at peace. I had to try at least. That was my plan, to work for His favour.
Doubts gnawing at me, shaking with every movement, I lifted the latch on the gate and took a faltering step forward. Halfway to the door, I saw it spontaneously open and the warm, golden light flooded the darkness. And there He was. My Father. I could not see His face for the darkness....so I tentatively stepped up to the door frame and turned my face upward. He stepped down and the biggest smile erupted over His face, 'Oh my darling, precious daughter!!' He exclaimed in a booming voice, announcing to the world my return. I was surrounded by His strong arms. I tried to whisper out my explanations, apologies, sorrow....He would not hear them, silencing them in one breath saying, 'COME IN'. I could feel the eyes on my back from the crowd, this interchange having silenced them for once. But all of the sudden I didn't care. All of the sudden none of this mattered, and I had a feeling that it would never matter agian. 'Let's get these wet things off of you, you must be freezing, and there's food and dancing to be had...oh, but if you're tired never fear, your old room is ready for you....' He continued in a stream of happiness.
As I stepped through the threshold, His arm around my shoulder propelling me forward, the music, joy, and love overwhelmed me. A multitude of smiling faces welcomed me as He shut the door on the darkness outside. 'Father', I began. He turned His face down towards me, now pensive and thoughtful, '....I don't know what to say or how to say it,' I brokenly started, 'but.....I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve any of this. I never expected it....I'm.....I'm sorry. For all of it. For me. For the words. For the silence....I'll do anything, anything at all to make it up to you.' I had been looking at my feet as I said this, the weight of His arm heavy on my shoulder. As I finished, He turned me towards Him and lifted up my chin.
'Daughter....I know. But there's no need, no need to work at fixing anything up. It's all forgiven. You are my daugther. Nothing, nothing, will ever change that. I love you, I always have. And oh my dear, how much have I missed you!' He broke out into His biggest smile with those words. And as He did so, the inklings of joy at the realisation of what He had said began to grow in my heart. The realisation that no eternity of service or bondage awaited me....but an eternity of joy was rolling out in front of me like the dawn. I smiled, weakly, but I smiled.
Tears streamed down my face.
I was Home.

How great is HIS faithfulness, my friends?
....as great and big as He is.

Antidote.

2009-10-13T20:44:00.004+01:00

    It has been two weeks of antidotes. Back and forth. Illness and cure. Depression and peace. Sorrow and joy. Mockery and worship. As I struggle to dispell this cloud that has settled over me for the past four or so days, I thought that maybe writing it out would help since I can't seem to discover why it's here. So I begin in a rather selfish vein, I'm afraid. I do so hope you'll forgive me.
    I think there must be this residue that is clinging onto me. And I am afraid that I choose to listen to it rather than the Voice of truth ever knocking on my heart (....or the mice currently squeaking in between the walls of my room). Why is that? I wasn't particularly going anywhere with that thought....
    ....Or maybe I was. I don't know about you, but I can get so bogged down in the longings and desires of this life. And maybe they're not bad longings. Maybe they're noble ones, ones we were created for. But they're still substitutes. And that Voice is ever calling....
    Oh my brothers and sisters....The grace and mercy of Almighty God is overwhelmingly good. I shall be utterly confounded throughout eternity by it, because IT has existed from before time began and shall exist evermore. Tozer said, 'If we could remember that the divine mercy is not a temporary mood but an attribute of God's eternal being, we would no longer fear that it will someday cease to be....Nothing that has occurred or will occur in heaven or earth or hell can change the tender mercies of our God. for ever His mercy stands, a boundless, overwhelming immensity of divine pity and compassion. As judgment is God's justice confronting moral inequity, so mercy is the goodness of God confronting human suffering and guilt.....' He goes on to say about grace that it is, 'His goodness directed toward human debt and demerit....Grace is the good pleasure of God that inclines Him to bestow benefits upon the undeserving....Its use to us sinful men is to save us and make us sit together in heavenly places to demonstrate to the ages the exceeding riches of God's kindness to us in Christ Jesus.'
    The grace of Jesus Christ is the cure - the antidote - of the world. And it is only through Your wounded hands, my Lord, that we might be made whole and healed.
    'We must keep in mind also that the grace of God is infinite and eternal. As it had no beginning, so it can have no end, and being an attribute of God, it is as boundless as infinitude.....We can never know the enormity of our sin, neither is it necessary that we should. What we can know is that 'where sin abounds, grace did much more abound.' To abound in sin: that is the worst and the most we could or can do. The word abound defines the limit of our finite abilities; and although we feel our iniquities rise over us like a mountain, the mountain nevertheless, has definable boundaries....But who shall define the limitless grace of God? Its 'much more' plunges our thoughts into infinitude and confounds them there. All thanks be to God for grace abounding.' (Tozer)
    Oh wanderer return. Return to Him and His astoundingly large heart of love. Let His grace lift that heavy weight of shame from your shoulders. It can be almost an hourly thing, I know....and it takes trust. But He is so gentle with our hearts. He is on our side.

     So I have returned to what seems like a theme here....A theme that won't go away no matter how much shame I pile on, trying to bury myself away. No matter how depressed I get, how foggy my mind becomes, how despairing of this world, or how lost I feel, this theme remains. This theme of Christ's everlasting grace....waiting on God. Be still my soul. And sing. For You have taken it all away. My punishment and shame, sin and disgrace, hurt and pain. BE GLAD, and REJOICE. For I have been delivered from my enemies. The King, the Lord is WITH me, and never ever again will I fear harm. My hands will no longer be limp, my eyes downcast, for You, my Lord God are with me....and You are MIGHTY to SAVE. You take an unfathomable delight in me. You quiet me with Your love. You rejoice over me with singing' (paraphrase of Zeph. 3).

      We have a LIVING HOPE.

Sorry about this post not being quite that put together. I'm not really sure if I was trying to say anything in particular or if I said all I was originally going to say. It just kinda came out....and whatever left, in its place is a peace.

Thanks for listening, little corner of the world. Farewell....'with eyes wide open to the mercies of God' (Romans 12).

A bend in the road....

2009-09-20T17:34:00.006+01:00

    Do you ever do something that you then chide yourself for hours upon hours afterwards? I tend to do this maybe about 5,396 times daily (give or take a few). On Friday I was out and had to get some cash. So I popped over to one on North Bridge and entered my pin. Fairly standard procedure. When I was in the second hand book shop (getting the fifth Harry Potter book - the reason for getting the cash out, I confess) I went to get the money out of my purse. It wasn't there. Do you know that sense of immediate panic that settles? Yeah. Majorly. So then I checked to make sure I still had my debit card. Oh phew. That was still there. I thankfully had a bit of extra cash (intended for other purposes, but ah well), bought the book, and left the shop to get back on the bus. For the rest of the afternoon I kept telling myself how intolerably stupid I was. I mean, who takes out money, retrieves their card, and then leaves the said money in the cash machine?? Stupid stupid stupid stupid. The only thought that slightly comforted me was this: maybe I was able to give a ten pound note to someone who needed it more than I did. And even if it was picked up by some fresher who spent it getting wasted last night....maybe they were blessed somehow.

    Then Saturday morning woke up. And what a terribly depressing morning it was too....I got three pieces of mail. Two were rejections from applications. Thankfully the third was from a dear friend across the Atlantic on a lovely Island in the north. No matter how many of these 'thank you for your application but you've been unsuccessful' letters I get....it doesn't really get any easier to swallow.

    So I've caved, I'm going back to work part-time at Starbucks for the time being. At least that's what it feels like I'm doing. I think it's cause I feel like I'm letting myself down. Maybe perfectionist, legalist Grace (yes, I'm aware of the contradiction imbeded in that phrase) needs to learn something about attaching her self-worth to what she does as opposed to who she is in Christ. I've always had such a sense of urgency to DO something, to BE something. Like my time is limited, numbering my days and all that. How is one meant to reconcile that to surrender? My mum had an amazing piece of wisdom for me, 'Sometimes the trial is holding out for your ideal (a job, in this case....a purpose....a validation), and sometimes the trial is holding onto it in the midst of doing something else'.....So back I go to making coffee for a while. I shall choose not to demean myself. Anything He calls us to is a privilage. Oh God give me the strength to keep that attitude.

    These episodes are relatively unconnected....but both part of my life this past week. And both have made me think of something....How rarely do things happen the way that we expect. I mean, I really should know this by now. It's funny how little I do know. But I do know this....I shall choose to believe that this bend holds the best. For this bend is where I have been led. Thus in this bend I shall find the Heart of My Purpose. And He is Faithful....and full of grace for my doubting and bewildered heart.

     My walks have reminded me a bit from the end of 'Anne of Green Gables' (bear with my slightly romantic tendancies, please). :)
'I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I am going to believe the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes - what checkered light and shadows, what new landscapes, what new beauties, what curves and hills and valleys further on'....'The beauty of it all thrilled Anne's heart, and she greatfully opened the gates of her soul it it. "Dear old world", she murmured, "You are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you"....Anne's horizons had closed in since that night she had sat there after coming home from Queen's; but if the path before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspirations and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road! "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world!" whispered Anne softly.'
Amen.
'The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began....'

Oh, and I bought a pumpkin. Wooo hooo. Roll on bread, pies, and soup!
Currently listening to Imogen Heap's 'Wait it Out' and Mutemath's 'Goodbye'. My melancholic tendancies have won out.

Of freshly cut grass and burning leaves.

2009-09-09T22:35:00.006+01:00

Inverleith Park is my new favourite place in the city. It's like it was hidden from me until tonight. Until this beautiful, gorgeous evening. I walked out of the house with no specific destination in mind at about quarter past six, listening to such songs as this.

'To glory and give oneself to God again'....what greater thing is there in this life? My trials and troubles vanish at the sight of You. It's like, without even knowing You are there or are doing it it, it's like You're breathing life into me again.

As I sat on a bench and overlooked the fields and the city, a whole host of memories flooded me. The field, with kids playing football and people running about, with the most incredible view of the city....the smell. The smell reminded me of going to football practice in the fall with my dad, coaching us in the reminants of his suit, his shirt sleaves rolled up; and Elijah, Becca, Jenn, and I tagging along. Of being hot on a cool night when all the lights of the field come on. It makes me want to put on my shin guards, socks, and cleats. It's overpowering sometimes, when a memory hits you this hard. Especially when I keep memories so locked up tight, sequestered to two different sides of the ocean. Rarely do the two worlds intersect.

The smell of autumn is definitely here. The clouds were tinged with that golden, pinky-blue that so often overtakes them....and the music reworked things, weaving things in to my heart that had been missing and fraying for the past wee while. It's like a deep breath. Like turning one's face upwards to see the ever so faintly colouring leaves rustle against the pale blue of the evening sky. It's like the smell of freshly cut grass mingled with burning leaves. It's grace.

I've been finishing off books that I've been meaning to finish off for a while, tying off loose ends, a multitude of thoughts and ideas rushing through my head. But in that moment on the bench, oddly, there were no particular thoughts that came. Slightly frustrating, slightly freeing. It was when I stopped trying to think of what I should be thinking about, that it came. Your voice, Jesus. 'I did this for you, my love....'

I get frustrated with myself that I don't seem to love Him as I should. I never seem to 'feel' correctly. But He showed me something on that bench. He showed me that I do love Him....because He has chosen to speak to me, come for me. I love You, Lord, with that quiet kind of love that comes from years of knowing You. Sure, You are my Great Love....but for the most part, I love You with the 'for better or for worse' kind of love. The quiet kind that doesn't make too much of a fuss. And though I know I've got years ahead of me to learn and grow, I can find comfort in the fact that He has awoken my heart to love. And I am not dead, even if I can convince myself out of self-pity that I am, at times. He has placed this love in me, this desire for Him to be first, not second best....even when (especially when) I forget it.

And just to encourage you....He loves you. Oh how much He loves you. His grace is like your favourite smell, a reminder of home. A reminder of the beauty that calls from beyond the lights. The beauty of His grace. Just be still. And know. That HE is God.

Oh, and one other thing and then I'll shut up. I have finally caved in and admited to myself after many, many years of self denial that I have an overactive imagination. I have argued with God many times in my life, convinced He got the date of my birth wrong, 'Are you sure, God, that you meant for me to be born in this decade (or even this century)?'.....Ah well. My imagination shall have to content me.

I leave you with another's, much more eloquent, purposeful and concise words....

'I walked out onto the hill just now. It is exalting, delicious, to stand embraced by the shadows of a friendly tree with the wind tugging at your coattails and the heavens hailing your heart, to gaze and glory and give oneself to God - what more could a man ask? Oh the fulness, pleasure, shear excitment of knowing God on earth! I care not if I never raise my voice again for Him, if only I may love Him, please Him. Mayhap in mercy He shall give me a host of children that I may lead them through the vast starfields to explore His delicacies whose finger ends set them to burning. But if not, if only I may see Him, touch His garments, and smile into His eyes - ah then, not stars nor children shall matter, only Himself. O Jesus, Master and Centre and End of all, how long before that Glory is Thine which has so long awaited Thee? Now there is no thought of Thee among men; then there shall be thought for nothing else. Now other men are praised; then, none shall care for any other's merits. Hasten, hasten Glory of Heaven, take Thy crown, subdue Thy kingdom, enthrall Thy creatures.' (Jim Elliot).

God is gain. God is gain. God is gain. (John Piper).

'Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,

for I have put my trust in You.

Show me the way that I should go,

for to You I lift up my soul.'

(Psalm 143:8).

The Silence and Uncertainty of a Heart's Sifting.

2009-08-25T16:43:00.004+01:00

Loneliness. Where did it come from? I feel like it has jumped out from some shrub on Ferry Road and latched itself onto me, invading the flat and permeating my being. The silence it brings with it rings and echoes. I never really expected things to happen this way. I never expected His silence now. 'Any time but now, Lord,' I cry out, 'Now when I need your guidance so very deeply.'

Amy Carmichel once wrote, 'Bare heights of loneliness....a wilderness whose burning winds sweep over glowing sands, what are they to Him? Even there He can refresh us, even there He can renew us.'

I have been reading Passion and Purity again (by Elizabeth Elliot). I had read it when I was seventeen, but thought I'd pick it up again. See if my views on it had changed. :) Was this book written for me? Seriously. I thought that the first time and I am thinking it now. When all in my life - my purpose, my worth, my abilities - all seem uncertain and unclear....to have someone else recount their own struggles and doubts has given my soul something to cling to. Something Better. Here are some of the things she has to say....

'I do know that waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting our heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one's thoughts. It is easy to talk oneself into a decision that has no permanence - easier sometimes than to wait patiently.' 'Silence begins to drag on my soul. It is a kind of waiting which hears no voice, no footstep, sees no sign. I feel that I could wait ten years if it were not this waiting, this silence.'

'Waiting silently is the hardest thing of all.' 'When you are lonely, too much stillness is exactly the thing that seems to be laying waste your soul. Use that stillness to quiet your heart before God. Get to know Him. If He is God, He is still in charge.'

When it seems like all others have places to go and things to do, my prayer has been, 'Help me, my Lord, to shoulder this loneliness. To bear up under your sifting and burning that I might develop perseverence, character, and my hope might be proved a solid thing. For my Hope is in You. Christ in me, the Hope of Glory.' I feel like this is such an unworthy thing to lay at His feet. Such a small trial in comparison. Why has it been this hard for me? But He does not reject our sacrifices. He does not scorn them. No matter how pitiful, no matter how small. When I ask 'Why?' (which I have done countless times these past couple of weeks), He gently reminds me that He wants all of me. Whole and Holy. And He does not ask needlessly of me. He will not despise the perfume on His feet. It says in Proverbs that 'Each heart knows its own bitterness. No one else can share its joy' (4:10). But we have a Great High Priest who is not distant and who shares in all our bitterness and all our joy. Not only that, He takes our bitterness and gives us his joy in return.

There is something equally powerful that surfaces in the loneliness and silence, though. And that is longing. It is now this longing, deep within me and bursting to come out, that threatens to take over. This longing for there to finally be an answer, finally be a someone, finally be a definition for my life. It is in the painful beauty of longing that our hearts reach out for the eternal. In this we are not alone. He, Love, has entered into our world. Our hearts. And He has understood. Because of this, we can call out to Him, 'Abba, Father.'

She continues, 'My heart was saying "Lord, take away this longing, or give me that for which I long." The Lord was answering, "I must teach you to long for something better."'
It is this Truth that wreaks havoc on my soul. This Truth that He is better. He is better. He is better. Let this sink in, Lord....Day by day. I am not alone. And the loneliness, though now a weight, will be far outweighed by glory. That is His promise. And He who promises is Faithful.

As Jim Elliot said, 'Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.' 'Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.'

It is this challange of living the eternal in the present that I am now confronted with. I have to look past the doubt that there is nothing for me to sink my hands into, look past it to the better that He is....

Let's join in this dance of His grace, shall we?

'I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love
we are not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for Him.'
The Lord is good to those whose
hope is in Him,
to the one who seeks Him;
It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord...

....Let her sit alone in silence,
for the Lord has laid it on her....'
(Lamantations 3)

'crazy, mad, big Love.'

2009-08-04T22:38:00.006+01:00

To glimpse the BIGNESS of Love Himself is the only way we can understand the BIGNESS of the Love that is offered to us, freely. And Love Himself is Big.

'O Lord my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with slendour and majesty.
He wraps Himself in light as with a garment;
He stretches out the heavens like a tend
and lays the beams of His upper chambers
on their waters.
He makes the clouds His chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
He makes winds His messangers,
flames of fire his servants.'
(Psalm 104)

You have taken me through the stars, Lord, at a speed I could not imagine yet remained right by my side. Inside and outside time and space all at once. You have taken me through the heavens. Galaxies whirl and rush past Your eyes. Light Incarnate, Your wind has caressed my soul and Your voice has captured my heart.

'I love you.'
Why?

'Because you are my daughter.
Does a Father need a reason
to love His daughter?

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I will never stop saying that. I have plans for you that will
bless and protect, full of hope and life and love and joy. You have
no reason to fear for I AM.

I AM your Father. I AM your Joy.
I AM your Truth. I AM your Ridiculous Asker.
I AM your Means and End.
I AM your Fulfillment. I AM your Tears.
I AM your Joy. I AM your Peace.
I AM your Grace. I AM your Righteousness.
I AM your Future. I AM your Purpose.
I AM your Salvation. I AM your Light.
I AM your Newness. I AM your Restoration.
I AM your Plan. I AM your Reward.
I AM your Worth. I AM your Freedom.

I AM your crazy, mad, big, Love.
I AM your God.'

Your MERCIES are new every morning. And your GRACE is overwhelming. Your FAITHFULNESS is strong and neverending. Your LOVE astounds me all the time. That the God in whose eyes lie all the galaxies calls me His beloved and precious child is the most beautiful, fulfilling, wonderful, captivating, and restful mystery of all time and space.

The unforced rhythms of grace
are falling slowly
into the heart of Beauty Itself,
and in the wake of which
earth's dark shadows flee.

If Only.

2009-06-16T22:13:00.005+01:00

I was running. Running down a non-descript street. The pain was searing in my chest with each breath that I gasped. If only. If only, if only, if only, if only, I stated over and over to myself as I ran until I could run no more, wishing that I had some tangible reason to be hurting this much. Willing there to be some great tragedy in my life to legitimise all of this pain.

But there was nothing. Nothing but this emptiness, this lifelessness that consumed me. The utter desolation of my soul pierced the light around me with great shafts of darkness. They began, slowly at first, and then with growing force to devour the day about me until I was lost in the night. In some ways the darkness was more comforting for I was no longer the lifeless, miserable, self-loathing person whose parasite-like being seemed to burn up any ounce of others' happiness in her wake. I was at home in this numb and sightless place where I could linger in my own stinging shame.

And do you know what the worst part about all of this was? I'll tell you. The worst part was that there was nothing, no reason, why I should be this way. No great dysfunction, no great tragedy, no great remorse should be plaguing me. And yet it was. Why was this pain here, then? Why this regret? Why did this shame and darkness fill my very being? I felt deaf to the voices around me, numb to what I touched. Any kind of interaction, a nod or a 'hello', took all my strength and focus. I felt drained simply by brushing my teeth in the morning.

And that is why I had started running. I didn't care where, as long as it took me away from the familiar rooms and corridors. That is why I was standing on this corner looking absently across the street, my sight blinded and my limbs paralysed by the growing darkness. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Self-loathing filled me to the brim. Why can't you manage to get a grip on yourself and stop being so internally focused for just one minute of the day??, I screamed at myself. The expression on my face remained emotionless as the nothingness and pointlessness of existence suddenly swept over me. I laughed dryly in response. Perhaps I had finally come to the end. And this was all there was. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just nothing. Winter had crept into my soul and seemed to be there to stay.

But....

Who was that man staring at me from across the street? His eyes seemed to be piercing through my very being even from that distance. I could not look away. It was not that he was extremely beautiful, but his eyes were the most exquisite things I had ever beheld. I realised I was trembling all over....He was walking towards me....He was standing in front of me.

'Hello', He said. His voice unleashed the torrent inside and around me. I doubled over and my arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching at the void that was threatening to consume me. Oh. Oh this pain. The emptiness, the nothingness, that for the last age I had been trying to forget and keep unnamed and unrecognised in the quiet corner of my heart now burst forth and began to drown me. My silent screams filled the air.

Just as I was sinking into the agony of unconscious grief, something warm and strong grasped my arm, invading my winter. I slowly regained consciousness and realised I was sitting in the middle of a field. He was across from me. And He was smilling. Who was this man?

'It was good I found you when I did. You were remarkably hard to find, you know.'
Was that a smile in His eyes? My incredulousness must have been obvious to Him as His face fell backwards and He laughed out loud. The sound of His laughter penetrated me. I was powerless...and yet somehow I had never felt this full in my life before. The sun was blinding me, and yet I could see so clearly now. the wind's freshness was warming my frozen body and cooling my heated eyes.

The beauty of it, in comparison to the utter desolation of my own self, shook me to the core of my being.

He stopped laughing. His eyes retained all of their warmth, though, as He said, slowly taking His time, 'It's safe to hope again. It will not come crashing down.' His face was full of an unknown pain now, and then reassurance, as He continued, 'You will heal, you know. I have found you. Your quiet masks and defenceless walls are no good against me. You may be sure that I will never let you go.

If only. If only I was good enough to deserve this. I want my eyes to be deep and warm. I want to be loving, patient, gentle, and kind. But I feel the opposite. Why? If only I didn't have to shrink from this light. If only this could be true. My eyes and heart burned with the desire to believe so.

He sat there with the Treasure of the Worlds in His hands, willing me to lay hold of it. He wants to give this to me, when I can give Him nothing - the nothingness - in return. Not only will He give me thse riches, but He offers to me Himself. A Person who knows me, a Person to whom I need not explain myself. And He has promised, promised not to leave me. Forever.

'I have given you a morning. And it's new....Will you ever know how much I love you?'
The soft notes of the piano begin to play again as the rising sun is in my face.

It's called grace. And it leaves me thunderstruck as I stretch out my hand.

The song of the morning.

'Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.'
(Hebrews 10:23)

(1 Peter 1:3-9)

'My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death assail me.
Fear and trembling have beset me;
horror has overwhelmed me.
I said, 'Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest -
I would flee fare away and stay in the desert;
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
Far from the tempest and the storm.'

....But I call to you God,
and the Lord saves me.
Evening, morning, and noon
I cry out in distress
And He hears my voice
He ransoms me unharmed
From the battle waged against me,
Even though many oppose me....

....Cast your cares on the Lord
and He will sustain you;
He will never let the righteous fall.'

(Psalm 55)

In love with tragedy.

2009-04-07T18:24:00.004+01:00

It's hard to say you satisfy me, Lord, when I'm constantly and consistently looking for affirmation and approval elsewhere. I find that friendship, the deepest and truest (the most holy), can even divide my heart from Yours. I long for You to fill my soul with longing for Your person, with a heart that seeks Your face.

I feel like such a hypocrite at times. I say I want You and then quickly run after others. I fit You neatly into the first and last five minutes of every day and then wonder why I feel so tired. Wonder why my grace has worn thin. Why my love is empty.

'Is it because it is not Thou I see,
But only my poor, blotted fancy of Thee?
Oh! Never till Thyself reveal Thy face,
Shall I be flooded with life's vital grace,
Oh make my mirror-heart Thy shining-place,
And then my soul, awaking with the morn,
Shall be a waking joy, eternally new-born.'
-MacDonald (Diary of an Old Soul, 7 October)

Seek Your face
for the pure in heart
shall see You.
Your face, O Lord,
I will seek.

For that which I seek, I shall most surely find.

Do you ever listen to music which utterly, yet quietly breaks your heart for home, in its final and most true sense? A song in which there is a mute longing for a beauty that will be dawning (and yet has also already set)....it's breathtaking.

'I wish I was a poet
Could write in fine hand
Would write my love a letter
One she'd long understand
I'd send it by the water
Were the islands overflow
And I'd think of pretty Saro wherever I go.'
-Sam Amidon, Saro

Somehow being (semi)coherent on paper helps. even if I still feel like a tragedy at times, I know, in that indefinable and indefinite way, that He loves me. And that even though giving up on myself is a frequent and almost daily affair, He has not. I can still be filled with quiet assurance even when I feel but a shadow of myself that His patience and grace are overwhelmingly everlasting.

'Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, whcih transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is notble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.' (Philippeans 4:4-8)

'Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and early loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.' (Colossians 3:12-17)

'The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it.' (2 Thess. 5:24)

a prayer whispered.

2009-02-11T23:28:00.005Z

When I least expect, when I least deserve, when I least feel....
....Your freedom has overtaken my soul.

I thank You, Jesus, for the expanse of the cross. For the unending life that it promises. Not only that, but the truth of freedom that it brings and the way of hope it gives. For forgiveness. For You are the way, the truth, and the life.

'He is wooing you from the jaws of distress to a spacious place free from restrictions, to the comfort of your table laden with choice food.' (Job 36:16).

With all the sermons and words that have been flying about, perhaps the child-like faith of one who has been reminded of her Father's heart might finally be restored.

'Don't live in fear of your mistakes. Trust Me.'
I realise that I do this constantly. Waking up in the morning, still with those mistakes I made yesterday clinging to my skin like dirty clothes that should have been taken off the night before. I insist on keeping them by me, like a duty I must pay in order to come inside. When will I ever realise that it isn't the duty He wants....but for some inexpressible reason He wants ME.

It's like He's waiting there, next to an alter. Waiting for me to come and lay down these inexpresible and perhaps insignificant burdens, sins, and shames down at His feet. He helps me to lift them up onto the alter, quietly, and then lights a torch. He hands it to me and I light the fire. As we watch it burn He places His arm about me....I don't even know what the burden was (bitterness and unforgiveness maybe?) but I feel as if this is part of the relearning of what it is to be a daughter: giving it over to Him instead of attempting to figure it out, repair it, or hide it. His faithfulness and tenderness are everlastingly strong.

'When I said, 'my foot is slipping',
Your love, O Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
Your consolation brough joy to my soul.'
(Psalm 94:18-9).

As George Macdonald says in his fairy-tale Phantases, 'past tears are present strength' and future joy. 'Nor do we know how much of the pleasures even of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows. Joy cannot unfold the deepest truths, although deepest truth must be deepest joy.' (George Macdonald, Phantases). Our lives are full of beauty and tragedy, of joy and sorrow. And if He is our Deepest Truth, then it most certainly will be the Deepest of all Joys.

'Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a Living Hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade - kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.' (1 Peter 1: 3-9).

'Every tragedy of higher order, constructed in Christian times, will correspond more or less to the grand drama of the Bible; wherein the first act opens with a brilliant sunset vision of Paradise, in which childish sense and need are served with all the profusion of the indulgent nurse. But the glory fades off into grey and black, and night settles down upon the heart which, rightly uncontent with the childish, and not having yet learned the childlike, seeks knowledge and manhood as a thing denied by the Maker, and yet to be gained by the creature; so sets forth alone to climb the heavens, and instead of climbing, falls into the abyss. Then follows the long dismal night of feverish efforts and delirious visions, or, it may be, helpless despair; till at length a deeper stratum of the soul is heaved to the surface; and amid the first dawn of morning, the youth says within him, "I have sinned against my Maker-I will arise and go to my Father." More or less, I say, will Christian tragedy correspond to this-a fall and a rising again; not a rising only, but a victory; not a victory merely, but a triumph.' (George Macdonald, 'The Broken Swords').

'Hope is not in what I know. It's not in me, it's in You....I find peace when I'm confused, I find hope when I'm let down. Not in me, it's in You.' (Switchfoot, You).

jesus, i am resting.

2008-12-28T23:01:00.004Z

After almost a whole year....my issues remain. My hurts and pains are still here. My sorrows and cares are stubbornly holding their ground.

But the grace. Oh the grace has returned. I have let it in once more. For so long I've been killing hope, not watering it with the Eternal Love which wants to overflow into my heart. But Love is seeping through the grounds of my heart once more, and the Living Hope is beginning to grow again. Fed on so little for so long, it doesn't need much to sustain it; yearning and longing after more and more, though, it is calling me out again to live in grace. Yet this calling out requires something I have not practiced for an age (like trying to play the piano again after not touching the ivory keys for years)....trust.

Jesus, you have led me to rest. Glimpsing, ever more unfolding, who You are. Your beauty, my Lord, overwhelms my soul. Your wholeness of love is far, far too big for me. I am surrounded by Your wealth of grace and a certainty of Your many promises. I am resting in the joy of what You are. Finding out the greatness of Your loving heart. Beholding Your changeless love which satisfies my heart in its deepest places. Enfolding me in Your peace.
You love me when I feel fat, when I feel like a rubbish daughter, when I feel like a bitter friend, when I feel like a worthless girl, and when I feel like a failure of a Christian. This love. It's too beautiful. It's too great. There's too much hope, too much promise. It don't deserve it, and yet You've given it to me.
My precious, beautiful Jesus. My Lord. My King. My Friend. My Brother....I love you. Words fail me when I see this tender, gentle love and those kindly eyes. Those hands that carved wood and now reach out to me if I would but put down this pen. Rest. Mmmm. Rest. Something I have not allowed myself to know in a long, long time. A forbidden blessing I have wrongfully and sinfully avoided and excluded. A rest that satifies me and securely fixes me within Your love.

The joy of Your face is before me and the peace of Your hands have touched me.

A hope has been renewed.

Jesus I am resting, resting
In the Joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For by Thy transforming power
Thou hast made me whole.

Chorus:
Jesus, I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

O how great Thy loving kindness.
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O how marvellous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings;
Thine is love indeed!

Ever lift Thy face upon me,
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting 'neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth's dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father's glory,
Sunshine of my Father's face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting;
Fill me with Thy grace.

hope is coming for me.

2008-11-19T23:14:00.004Z

Is the pain we go through only so that we can handle more and more pain throughout our life (like how vaccines work)? Or are they so that one day the Hope will be even more glorious??

And I treat my relationship with You as if it's based on emotional manipulation. I constantly tread upon the egg shells of the cross....but not the real cross, it's the cross of my own making. Surely, I reason, I must remember this. Must constantly repent. 'We need to stop visiting our tombs and talking to our dead old men' (The Supernatural Ways of Royalty).

I have forgotten the grace. Willfully and by mistake. I have worried and feared....not placing my faith or trust in Hm and what He's done. Who IS He? What HAS He done? Is it because I keep forgetting this or because I've never really known? I feel like I'm going slightly insane....

I am tired. Tired of trying to make myself hear You. Trying to encourage myself in You. Can You come and speak to me? Encourage me again? This emotional rollercoaster. Spiritual schizophrenia....one day hearing You, the next day not, then hearing you for two and then not for five. Back and forth, no steadiness. No consistency. I've forgotten what a mountain looks like. All I seem to remember is this valley.

I am feeling slightly detached from LIFE...you know? Slightly detached from Him. and I'm tired of TRYING to BE something. This indistinct feeling that somehow the ME that I am is inadequate, not enough, when I am in a relationship with Him. I desperately want this to be a RELATIONSHIP and not a duty. But it can so easily slip into a duty.

When did You stop being enough?

When did I stop looking at You face and only looked at Your hands? Have I ever REALLY seen You for who You are, and not simply for what You've done?

As I looked down at that cup of blood, that cup of love, and the immensity of it nearly drowned me.
She whom I set free, is free indeed.

Really? Have I been simply unthankful or living in a prison of my own construction?

And when I least expect it He comes and says, 'After all this pain, and sorrow, and lies, and despair....are you brave enough to believe that the dawn is coming?' It's like we walking around the palace, creeping about like we are the servants when He's made us His children. Yes, we should know that we were paupers once, but we are called to walk about the palace now as legitimate children and heirs. We are trying to serve Him, the King, when He wants us to sit at His table. He's dressed us up in royal robes and changed who we are in His kingdom. Why do we insist on doing the mopping, as if to repay Him - somehow - (we feel the need to) for this grace? We get dirty doing 'His work' and He washes us every time.

'What I am saying is that as long as the heir is a child, she is no different from a slave, although she owns the whole estate. She is subject to guardians and trustees until the time set by her Father. So also, when we were children, we were in slavery under the basic principles of the world. But when the time had fully come, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might recieve the full rights of daughters. Because you are daughters, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out 'Abba, Father'. So you are no longer a slave, but a daughter, and since you are a daughter, God has made you also an heir.' (Galatians 4:17).

'Reviewing the sinfulness of our past in order to become humble is perversion. It actually creates shame; and shame is a poor counterfeit of humility....in reality it is much more humbling to live in the liberty of unearned forgiveness.'
'Repentence was needed....true repentence is to change the way you think....my shame was over my humanity, and my discouragement was over who I wasn't (not a secret or unrighteous habit).'
'We no longer live in the bondages of our past - performance and c omparison,....but we know our worht in simply loving Him'
(The Supernatural Ways of Royalty)

Today is the first day in a long time...a very long time, that I feel excited and passionate about being a Christian. About living this life again. This week has been one of those foundation shifting weeks where the perceptions of everything change. I feel a level of peace....and joy (is that what this feels like?) in Him...in You, that I haven't for an age. And then the change came and I didn't even realise.

'Have heart my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess

Light up, light up,
as if you have a choice,
even if you cannot hear my voice,
I'll be right beside you dear.'

(Snow Patrol, Run)

http://www.thelongbrake.com/blog/2008/11/04/what-if-you-truly-loved-your-neighbor-as-yourself/

through grace untold, to see You.

2008-10-16T09:49:00.002+01:00

Hope has been renewed.
Life has been given.
Joy is recieved.
Out of despair, there is hope.
When life is shallow. When joy is worn thin.

YOU.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.
For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

(Ephesians 1)

O, to see You as You are
To glimpse the wonders yet unseen
Assist my sight, unveil my eyes
To see You
Lord, to know You as You are
To even dare to speak or stand
Though marked beloved, to fall as dead
When I see You

And through grace untold, to see You
With this heart unveiled, to know You
Lord, in Your pure light

How great the glory of Your name
How small the voice I humbly bring
Yet with my all I raise a song
When I see You
It is the song of love's pure light
The grace reflected in these eyes
The overflow of those who know
They have seen You

We are disgraced, but You graced us
With the warmth of Your forgiveness
Now You lead us ever closer
To the pure light of Your holiness

And I'll sing of the wonders of Your grace
Sing of the wonders of Your grace
Sing of the wonders of Your grace, O Lord
And I'll tell of the glory of Your name
Tell of the glory of Your name
Tell of the glory of Your name, O Lord
(Pure Light, Matt Redman)

2008-10-07T17:03:00.002+01:00

'all that's in my head is in your hands.'

2008-10-03T23:29:00.003+01:00

Jesus.

All else falls away, it really does. When I see You. Sometimes I doubt if I've ever really and truly seen You, though. I say that You are the desire of my heart. I say You are. But are You? I know about You, Jesus. But do I know You? Jesus, I forget. I forget so very quickly. I speak in pride. And then weep in brokenness. Yet You see me - for all that I am - and still You persist.

Yet I can hear You telling me that it's time to stop living in the slums of my heart. For some reason You want me full. Full of You, Jesus. I am ready, oh my heart is ready for a relationship with You.

In this pain, You have birthed wind.
And that wind has swept through the depths of me.
....all I can do is worship You and open wide my arms.

mystery...

2008-09-26T23:35:00.003+01:00

I am going to miss the leaves in the meadows. The leaves, in their beautiful willowy-ness. I love autumn, don't get me wrong....but those leaves. Especially in the wind, in the golden sunset of crispness. Oh they are marvellous. Walking underneath them gives me continual delight.

'Oh!' cried Marrianne, 'with what transporting sensations have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven as much as possible from the sight.'
'It is not every one' said Elinor, 'who has your passion for dead leaves.'
-Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen

We live in very well-lit rooms. The contrasts are clear. We compare....ourselves to ourselves. What ever happened to the candlelight? To the flickering shadows on the wall? For just one evening I want to be sure. Sure of those flickering lights. Sure of that candlelight. Sure of the shadows. Sure that not everything is proven. Sure that there are things hidden. Sure that some things cannot be penetrated. Sure of life's unsurity.
But no. I am forced to live in a land that leaves no question unanswered. A land of bulbs, of florescence, of ordered deadness.
Break me free. Recover me. That I might live in the shadows and candlight of Your mystery once more.

'Now this is eternal life: that they may KNOW You, the one true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent....I have made You known to them and will continue to make You known in order that the love You have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.' - Jesus (John 17:3,26).

Oh how I long to LIVE IN this mystery. THE Mystery....the eternal life. Knowing Him....it's a mystery of knowing the Answer, yet always knowing it deeper and deeper. Never stopping to know. The mystery starts by actually being able to know that there IS the Answer. And when He reveals Himself....to dwell in that revelation. To worship. For eternity. Oh what a beautiful future we have in Him. For He has given us Himself, and in Him we have found wholeness and rest, grace and truth.

Sometimes I have a very odd sense of country-less-ness that sweeps over me. Disorientation clouds my mind and heart. Where actually IS my home? But then comes a friend or two to the rescue....and all is well. Aslan's country will forever be my home. :)

Goodnight, fair world....

'The Whimsical Lights'

The whimsical lights turn
Turn and move sprightly
To the rhythmn of rustling leaves

There is silence in true beauty
True beauty, I find,
Does not always require words

Sometimes the sky is grey
Sometimes it is full
Of light and love and joy

But always beautiful
Always silent
Always hopeful and pure

Mystery is there
There, lies the rest
Forever in eternity it will be

Scope for the imagination
Images for the feast
To the sound of rushing water

The cathedral of trees overhead
Reminds me, such that
All I have are broken metaphors
Bound up in promises.

feelingness

2008-09-14T22:33:00.002+01:00

i beat myself up over this. beat myself up trying to feel Him. constantly trying to respond to my feelings of Him as opposed to Him and His Spirit. listening to my feelings, as opposed to Him. we know His voice....but it turns into the age old drama if i simply try to make myself feel Him. it's a human attempting to come to Him, not recieving grace.

i think (she says tenatively) i am learning how to trust and have patience, even (especially) when i can't see or feel. to hear His voice even when i can't feel.

you know, what starts out as brokenness so easily turns into condemnation. i have to stop doubting and questioning....and just trust. i'm tired of pretending. tired of holding perfection up to myself and seeing how i constantly fail. tired of the guilt i don't deserve freedom. i deserve to wallow in this guilt for forever....but Jesus. but Jesus! 'the heavy cross outweighs my sin. the love of Christ, the Saviour King' (hillsong). he came and cut this guilt, shame, and condemnation off my back, out of my heart, life, and soul. cut it off. and it's gone. how do i explain it?? i can't. and this is TRUE unworthiness. not beating yourself up, but realising your brokenness and looking up at That Which Heals....not introspection to the point of death, but realisation turned to worship. one of the greatest words i have heard this week was as follows....'not only has God taken away your sins and no longer remembers them (though this is reason to praise Him enough!) but when He looks at you, He sees CHRIST.' He sees Christ.

how?
oh i'll never have the answers. but that's just fine for me. He has given me Himself instead. the greatest mystery of all time. and a mystery that i am content to live in my whole life.

there has been no great flash or bang. no party or twizzles, no sparklers or fairy lights. only the faintest sense of peace that i am on the right path, though a rather indisinct and winding path it may be....

-grace

a song for you....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eg-AlKyz3E&feature=related

haughty insolence.

2008-08-25T16:01:00.002+01:00

what do i write here for all the world to see? words form in my head to show how humble i am. how godly. all the amazing revelations i've had....all for what? making myself look good. how aweful. at this point, i just have to laugh at it all. there's someone out there trying to confuse my brain and make me pointless by keeping me in a circle of humble pride. how stupid is he?

yet it's difficult to laugh. because recently i really have become so very aware of my own brokenness. why? why are You still here? He says, 'give it to me. all of it. the shame, sin, pride, hurt, sorrow, burden. give it to me.' i say, 'why??'.....'because I love you.' why? 'because I created you.' why? 'because I love you.'

HOW?? WHY?

i just don't understand why He's still here. still choosing to love me. 'quieter than rain, He knows all your pain' (kevin prosch, harp of my heart). 'in repentence and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength'....'the Lord your God is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoyce over you with singing'....'I have made you, I will not forget you, I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like hte morning mist. return to me, for I have redeemed you.'

i kick myself over and over again for breaking and entering my heart and tearing it apart. why do i do this? WHY? the answer didn't come. but something, Someone Else, did. the One who stood before my failures, my shame, my pride, and my brokenness. and He still wants it. He STILL comes and restores. He takes up the broken pieces so tenderly and gently, His own eyes full of pain for me (??) as He does it....how? why? there is no way i could ever ever understand this love. ever. he has made me new again. and will continue to. He who has promised is Faithful. He's in the making-things-new business. it's scary to ask, but Lord your eyes are full of love, so i do....give me devotion to you alone. i don't deserve this all-encompasing beautiful healing. but He covers me with it anyway. i love You, feebly, but i do, my Lord.

what can i give in the face of this beauty? i have nothing. nothing but these tears. so i weep. weep, trusting in your love and forgiveness to restore me. is my pride this glaringly obvious? Lord....Jesus....you are melting my heart more and more. Please....never ever stop.

He is stronger and full of love. higher than any pain or valley of shadow. and stronger. His love is strong. as strong as death and unyeilding as the grave. He pursues with an endless love, an endless grace. my failures are hushed in the presence of His greatness. You are my High Tower. the One To Whom i Run. my Strength. The Glory. the Being Upon Which my Existence, Salvation, and Life is Given and Secured. the Name of Hope. the Means of my Repentence. the End to Which i am Running. the Journey's Beginning and End. the Almighty Transcendence.

the Uncomprehendable Apprehended.

Your love, the mere glimpse of it, astounds me every time. Your beauty is greater to behold, more lovely and stunning, than any other face, scene, or view in all of creation for you created it and all of that beauty lies within your eyes. You are the silence after the storm and during it. You never ever let go. ('and so we never teach the younger generation how to hear the still small voice and fall in love with the invisible God because the spiritual oppression and opposition is just to massive to overcome with a fancy, expensive hight energy production. it's like trying to take out a tank with a bunch of paint-ball guns.....we position ourselves in a place of rest and confidence before the presence of God. we allow ourselves to become the instruments on which He plays His favourite songs' (from burn 24-7).

sweep me away, oh Lord. Jesus, i give you the little i can - the verbal (or textual) declaration of Your glory and recognise and fall down at the remembrance that i don't, within myself, deserve to ask for anything, but you come simply because you love me (have loved me and will love me). You came and because of that i can now come. and when You came, You said to ASK. why? because You love us!

'in Your unfailing love you will lead
the people you have redeemed.
in Your strength You will guide them
to Your holy dwelling.' (exodus 15:13)

-grace

(psalm one hundred and twenty-one).

why?

2008-07-17T17:17:00.000+01:00

so after a year of being off the blogging front, i have decided to come back. why?? i don't really know. just kinda felt like it. i don't know who will read this, what the purpose of this will be be. but on a rainy, cold summer afternoon in edinburgh, i decided to do it. and on a day, too, when words seem to be clogged up. sputtering out as if the milk has run dry at the end of the straw....

all i can say, is that at this moment, i can remember. finally. remember, as if awaking, slowly, to the slow, soft pattering of rain. waking up to His heart for me. waking up again, learning to remember His love. but the question is, will i let Him remind me? will i allow this love to permeate again? i think i will. it's like reading over old letters. remembering what they've said to you and who you were at the time of recieving them. but oh so much deeper. He is the Name of Hope. the Almighty Transcendence. i should trust, shouldn't i?

-grace