Empty rooms.
Once occupied by those I love.
I grieve the loss.
I step in.
To face.
My fear.
Of the empty rooms.
But...
My Saviour,
my King,
the Lover of my soul.
Now embodies.
Now fills.
With His Spirit.
These empty rooms.

I open my hands.
I give Him the loss.
I let go of fear.
I lift my hands.
My voice.
My soul.
In praise.
I fill these empty rooms
with songs of praise.
With fervent prayers.
Where there has been tears of loss.

These empty rooms.
Are no longer empty.
They are filled.
With the Living God.

Here I live.
Here I abide.
With the Lover of my soul.
In rooms once empty.
But now...
Full.
Of the Presence.
Of Glory.

Glorious update!! ---Soul Survivor's Dad had the surgery after all and miraculously came through it amazingly well!

God keep our land.
Glorious and free.

God keep our land.
Free from persecution and enmity.

God keep our land.
Beautiful and preserved.
From sea to sea.

God keep our wonderful Canada.
Our nation of freedom, wide open
spaces, and diversity.
Our nation of nature's bounty,
and folks so friendly.

God keep our land.
A welcoming refuge for peoples
oppressed.

God keep our land.
Glorious and free.
God keep our wonderful Canada.
Oh, what a privilege it is
to be a citizen of thee!
I am filled with gratitude.
To be a dweller of this great country.

God keep our land, O Lord.
Glorious.
And.
Free.

I hear the echo of my own voice.
In empty rooms.
Rooms once filled with the
tears and laughter of my children.
Rooms which once held the loving
arms of family.
A room which once held the intimate
love of a husband and wife.

I hear the echo.
I hear the echo of my own voice.
In empty rooms.
Among boxes packed.
Boxes awaiting the unfolding.
Of a new chapter in my life.

I hear the echo of my own voice.
In empty rooms.
I see the For Sale sign on the lawn.
I think of the memories.
In every room.
The memories.
Of our family.
Now broken.
And my heart breaks.
Again.

I hear the echoes.
Of a house haunted with memories.
Of both joy and pain.
I remember.
I smile. I grieve.
I ponder...
Then.
Let go.
And walk into the future.
With my hand in the Hand of God.

I hear the echo of my own voice.
I hear the echo of my own tears.
In empty rooms.
In this house full of memories.
I bind each moment to my heart.
And say.
Goodbye.

Season after season.
I've gazed upon you
through my window.

I've seen the snow hang low
upon your branches.
With white upon red berries.
I've watched the snow melt away
to reveal new buds,
opening,
ever so slowly,
to leaves so green.
In early Spring.

I've watched all the creatures
hop, climb, and fly among
your branches.
I've watched the birds taste
your blood-red berries.
I've seen songbirds...
Nuthatches,
finches, and chickadees.
Come to the feeders.
That hang from you.
I've seen the squirrels steal
seeds from the birds.
As their little paws unlatch
a little hook.
I've heard the birds sing among your
branches.
So sweetly.
I remember when the chickadees
built their nest in you,
and then watched their young fledge.
I remember the year the woodpecker
came knocking at your trunk's door.
As he drilled his beak into you.
And made a hole.
After that.
You were never the same anymore...

I watched your life slowly end.
Another year.
Another season.
More dead branches to be severed.
Fewer buds.
Fewer leaves.
As your story slowly drew to a close.

Yesterday,
they chopped down what was left of you.
But I will always remember you.
And I thank the Lord for the joy
of beholding your beauty.
Of watching your story.
You have blessed so many creatures.
Including me.
Farewell,
Beautiful Mountain Ash tree.

Grayed hair.
Upon his head.
Hands.
Wrinkled.
From years of hard labour.
Which gave him joy.

For his daughter in need.
He labours in love.
With brush and paint.
Nail and hammer.
Wood and saw.
He fixes what was warped.
And in need of repair.
He longs to fix her wounded heart.
But knows he can't.
So he commits her into the hands
of the Master Builder.
Who fixes broken souls.

He does what he can.
For his daughter in need.

With grayed hair upon his head.
He labours in love.
With brush and paint.
Nail and hammer.
Wood and saw.
With his work-weary.
Wrinkled hands.
With his hands.
Of love.

Moses discovered it.
I am discovering it.
The cost of obeying the call.
Of leaving all behind to follow.
Taking a stand for the Truth
can come at a high price.
Loss of riches.
Loss of identity.
Loss of reputation.
Loss of familiarity.
Loss of home.
Loss.
Of all I've known.

The price of freedom.
The freedom that comes
from following Him.
Is full of losses to grieve.
But what I gain.
Is so much more.
Eternal treasures.
Beyond compare.
A deeper knowledge
of His great love for me.
Discovering my new identity.
My eternal destiny.
Discovering why He chose
to lay hold of me.
Freedom in Christ.
Beauty for ashes.
Joy in His Presence.
Glory!
Glory!
Glory!
Which can never be stolen from me.
If this is the price of freedom.
I say...
Amen!
For everything else is loss.
Compared to knowing Him.
Gaining Jesus.
Who is my Life.
And whose Love is better
than life itself.
This.
Is the price.
Of Freedom.

Tiny feathers.
Of black, white,
and softest brown.
Tiny wings fluttering.
With quiet sound.
Loud voice.
Of sweetest song.
Which can be heard.
From miles around.
"Swee, swee,"
calls the chickadee.
Handcrafted by God above,
the little chickadee
is a tiny miracle.
Of His love.

He leads me gently.
Yet.
Firmly.
With His Shepherd's
rod and staff.
Through every mountain
and valley.
Warning me to stay on
His path.
But then...
the Wolf comes.
He lures me.
He entices me.
To desire.
To lust after.
What my eyes see.
To crave the things
which do not satisfy.
To spend my wages
feeding on ashes.
Instead of the Bread
of His Word.
And His Presence.
I buy into the lie.
I stray.
I go my own way.
As my Shepherd looks on...
grieved and righteously angry.
He sorrowfully.
But sternly.
Breaks me with His rod.
To bring me back into the fold.
Back close to His heart.
He disciplines me in
His Love.
To spare me more pain.
Down the road.
To keep me near Him,
and in His arms enfold.
I cry out for mercy.
He hears my humble plea.
And.
Rescues me.
In tears of repentance
and desperation.
I fall on my knees.
His Blood washes over me.
And makes me clean.
I stand to my feet.
With renewed strength.
And lift my hands.
In praise.
In praise of His mercy.
In praise of His Love.
In praise for all He is.
In praise for my redemption.
In praise.
For His Shepherd's
rod and staff.
For He never fails.
To lead this wayward sheep.
Back to His path.

Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
My tears mirror the rain.
One by one,
they leave me.
Again.
And I grieve.
I grieve.

There is only One.
Who understands.
My pain.
Who understands.
The searing loss.

One by one.
They left Him.
All His followers.
Gone.
In His hour of deepest need.
They did leave.
Even His closest friend.
Peter.
Denied Him.
And Judas...
Betrayed Him.
He was...
Abandoned.
Forsaken of men.
A Man of Sorrows.
Acquainted with grief.
Who bore my griefs.
Who carried my sorrows.

One by one.
They left.
And then...
Inner conflict.
The Cross.
His will.
His fear.
His anguish.
His...
humanity.
And His tears fell.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Not like rain.
But like great drops of Blood.
Upon the ground.
"Let this cup pass from Me!"
And then...
"Not My will, but Yours be done."

He endured.
The deepest torment of soul.
The greatest grief of all.
One which I will never have
to bear.
When...
His Father turned His face away.
"My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?"
For that tortuous moment.
When the sins of all
weighed heavy upon Him.
My Saviour was utterly alone.
Completely forsaken.
For me.
For love.
Of me.
So I would never be.
Utterly alone.
Completely forsaken.

Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
My tears mirror the rain.
As one by one.
They leave.
And I am left.
Alone.
With Him.
With the Man of Sorrows.
My Saviour and King.
Who alone can understand.
My pain.
And then...
Beneath the shadow of His wings.
He heals my wounds.
Until I am whole.
Again.

O God!
Speak to me!
Make Yourself real to me!
Let me see Your face,
let me hear Your voice!
Let me.
Touch You.
For,
if You do not,
I will surely run after.
Yet another.
Idol.
Yet another.
Broken cistern.
Make Yourself real to me,
O God.
Lest I perish in my affliction.

"I AM RIGHT HERE, BELOVED ONE.
YOU  JUST NEED TO LISTEN."

I rub the moist cloth
into the wood of the table.
And I think of You.
I think of how much I love You.
And that if I were cleaning this table
for You,
I would want it to shine.
Like the dome of a great Cathedral.
And I am your cathedral, Lord.
A house built for Your glory.
Oh, fill every wall,
every corner,
every room.
With Your love.
Shine Your light into
every window.
Unlock my heart.
With Your healing love.
Your healing Word.
Your love.
Your Word.
Is healing my scars.
Rebuilding my walls.
Your tender love.
Is unlocking my heart.
Jesus.
My Rock.
My Light.
My Life.
Oh, how I love You.
Here is the key.
To my heart.

They do not worry.
About food.
They do not worry.
About clothes.
They aren't afraid.
Of being abandoned.
They know.
God will take care of them.
They know.
Their Creator will feed them.
They know.
The One who cares for them
will never forsake them.
They know.
His eye is ever upon them.
Oh, may I learn how to live.
From watching the birds.

Speak to me, O God.
At last...
I'm listening.

Speak to me.
In a quiet whisper.
Speak to me.
In a lion's roar.
Tell me words
that will heal my soul.
Your words heal.
Every wound.

Speak to me, O God.
I'm listening.
Speak my name.
Tenderly.
For I am Your own.

Speak to me.
My very life hangs
on every word You say.
Speak to me.
At last...
I'm listening.
Silence every other voice.
Shout loudly to me
above the noise
of the enemy.

Speak into my stormy soul.
And calm the waves of grief,
and the torrents of fear.
That threaten to shut out
Your voice.

Speak, Lord.
For Your servant is listening.
Speak to me.
I'm listening.
At last...
I'm listening.
Speak to me.

You laid on my shoulder,
in my times of sorrow and my days of joy.
I held you when I mourned and when I danced.
I will miss your gentle lizard ways.
I will miss watching you gape in the sunlight,
and lift your spiky head to its rays.
I will miss how you gobbled up lettuce,
and live worms to chase.
I will miss gazing at your beautiful scales,
and looking into your reptile eyes.
I will miss you laying upon our kitty's back.
And how you lifted your tail up in the bath.
I will miss every season with you.
I will cherish every memory of you.
I thank God for the gift of you in my life
for nine precious years.
You were a comfort and a joy to me.
And I will miss you, Tom.
Oh, how I loved you.
My beloved dragon.

---"The lizard you may grasp with the hands, Yet it is in kings' palaces." (Proverbs 30:28)

Lord, thank You for the wilderness.
That I might learn to seek
Your face.
Thank you for my scars.
That I might know You
as my Healer.
Thank you for showing me
my weaknesses.
That I might learn to rely
on Your strength.
Thank you for the pain of loss.
That I might gain the joy
of Your Presence.
Thank you for the loneliness.
That I might learn to listen
to Your still small voice.
Thank you for the wilderness.
That I might feel Your hand
upon me.
As I mourn face down
in the dust.
And learn to trust.

Winter moon.
Above snow-covered trees.
A glowing sickle.
In the cold dark sky.
Lighting up the frozen black.
Of this New Year's night.
The Winter moon shining bright.
Casts a warm glow
upon the snow tonight.
Forget the freezing, icy road.
For just a moment.
And lift up your head.
Fix your gaze.
Upon the Winter moon.
Which God has made.

Dark, dark world.
People.
In *******.
In chains of slavery.
Chains tying up.
Hearts and minds and limbs.
Chains put upon them.
By cruel oppressors.

Dark, dark world.

But wait!
Have you heard the glorious news
from Bethlehem?
A prophecy is fulfilled!
A Great Light has come!
Into
the dark, dark world.
Your Saviour!
Baby Jesus in the manger!
Has been born!
Into this dark, dark world.

He is the Light shining
in the darkness.
Sin and slavery shall
no longer hold man in *******.

Dark, dark world.
Your Light has come.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
A new day has dawned!

(edited)