Saturday, 12 February 2011

Sparkly.

'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)

Saturday, 22 January 2011

Wednesday Morning Musings.

    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.

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Incarnation

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.....

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Safety.

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. 






Sunday, 28 November 2010

Guest Post

http://www.carolinecollie.com/

: )

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Unlovely Love.

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.



Sunday, 24 October 2010

Woman, why are you crying?

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.'