His Truth invades
my
fractured
mind.

With
Light
filling
every crack.

Every second I live,
every breath I breathe,
every moment I exist.
I need You, Lord.

Every face I see,
every voice I hear,
every wounded heart.
Every soul I want to help.
I need You, Lord.

I need You, Lord.
Every minute.
Every hour.
Every day.
Every year.
For my whole life.
I need You, Lord.

I come to You in
my frail humanity.
Shine the Light of Your
face upon me.
For, oh, how I need Thee.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To come alongside.
In words of comfort.
Words of love.
To the divorced.
Who feel like they've failed.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the mentally ill.
Whose tormenting thoughts are a living hell.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the lost teen caught up in the downward
spiral of addiction.
Where escape from life is so appealing to them.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the homeless man without a dime.
Whose every moment is a struggle to survive.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the child in the classroom who doesn't fit in.
Who needs an aide to settle them.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try?
To accept.
To comfort.
To...
love.
To hold out our hand.
And then...
watch God heal.
The broken hearts.
Of the marginalized.
From the pain
of
the
stigma.
Of those who don't fit in.

I would rather stand at the door in the house of my Lord,
than dwell in a big house full of riches untold.

I would rather sit in the middle of a grassy meadow,
surrounded by the sounds of nature,
than walk around in a shopping mall full of many treasures.

I would rather sit at the feet of my Lord and listen to His every word,
than have the approval of man and the affection of the world.

I would rather lose temporal pleasures,
if it means I might gain an eternal reward.

I would rather stand at the door.
In the House.
Of my Lord.

The youth
carry the burden of school.
Will I pass or will I fail?

Fathers
carry the burden of work,
money, and sleep deprivation.

Mothers
carry the burden of the juggling act
of the super woman.

Old folks
carry the burden of a body
that no longer works for them.

And all---and all---
carry the burden of never
being good enough .

Burdens.
Backpacks.
"Come to Me," calls the
Bearer of all burdens.
"I will give you rest.
Give your heavy burden to Me,
and exchange it for the lighter load,
which I give to thee."

She lets the backpack fall from her shoulders.
And walks on.
Carrying a lighter one.
Her striving is done.
A journey toward rest
has begun.

Is this the last time I have to show you I love you?
Could this be my final chance
to look into your face and show you grace?
If it were thus...
wouldn't I want my parting words to be,
"You are a 9,  and not a 3."
If this were my last opportunity to hold your hand,
wouldn't I want to hold it tender and long?

Finite.
The opportunities we have
to love...
to bless...
to forgive...
are finite.

Oh, may I love now,
and not when the hour is late.
And death closes in
to seal our fate.

Man is but a breath.
Our life---
but a whisper in time.

May I seize every opportunity,
every moment,
To stop.
To slow down.
To listen.
To love.
As if it were the last time.

Silence


is

my friend.

In the storm.
Raging

without.


And within.


Please leave me.


Let me rest.




In my quiet



space.



With no words.





That I might learn

to listen





To Him.

There is a chill in the air.
That wasn't there before.
The flowers have dried up,
as warm days are no more.
Soon will come the season of cold.
And snow will cover the carpet
of leaves so gold.
The biting air nips my ears and nose.
Yet the Autumn day is bright,
as the sun pours forth its light.
I walk on.
Beside the Unseen One.
Who is my Forever Companion.
He leads me to a broad, spacious place.
A  quiet field.
Like a land flowing with milk and honey.
I feel peaceful and free.
With no more chains binding me.
Then He whispers to my soul,
"Take this path,"
And I walk upon a straight white line.
Upon the grass.
He reminds me not to stray.
To the right or to the left.
For the Way to Life
is narrow and straight.
I stay on the path stretched out before me,
for the path of the righteous shines brighter
and brighter until the perfect day.
"I will guide your feet into the peaceful way,"
I hear my loving Saviour say.
And I pray,
"Lord, let me stay near You,
forever and alway.
For You are the Lover of my soul.
And You have set me free from slavery.
To a land flowing with milk and honey."

(edited)

Green meadows lush and still.
Quiet waters that restore my soul.
Autumn trees blowing in gentle wind.
Calm music of hope to which I can sing.
Winter's snow falling soft and quiet.
Gentle purring beside me on a blanket.
A soft, warm pillow upon my bed.
Where I can rest my weary head.
His still small Voice whispering to my heart,
"Rest now, my beloved, and let your fears depart."

Still water.
Like a mirror.
Reflections of wonder.
The colours of fall.
A single leaf drifts down.
Landing on
the quiet reflections.
On quiet pond.
I rest within.
And take in.
Wonder.
From the hand of God.

Lord, all I can offer You  is a mustard seed of faith.
For I am so full of fear, and doubt, and unbelief.
So addicted to walking by what my eyes see,
I fail to remember that You are the God of impossibilities.
For so many years I've prayed the same prayer,
and it seems as though it remains unanswered.
Then...
I falter.
I faint.
I lose heart.
As what little faith I had,
begins to depart.
I fall on my knees in desperation before Thee,
I cry, "Lord, I believe!  Help my unbelief!"(Mark 9:24)
Then You tenderly speak to my soul and remind me of this:
All it takes to move a mountain is a mustard seed of faith.

I hold out my hands to You as I pray,
"Here is my mustard seed of faith, Lord.
Take it, for it is all I can offer Thee.
Lord, have mercy, and grant my request.
Even though all I have left
is a mustard seed
of faith."

There is a chill in the air now.
That wasn't there before.
As summer draws to a close,
and signs of autumn appear.
The blossoms drop their petals,
in the colder temperatures.
The rabbit's coat begins to transform,
as white fur replaces brown.
The leaves on the trees are changing
to gold,
ever so slowly...
leaf by leaf.
As summer will soon be beyond our reach.
The morning sun sleeps in later,
and darkness comes earlier in September.
The autumn winds can be chilly,
but the trees arrayed with brilliant colour
are so very pretty.
I curl up now,
wrapped cozy in my blanket,
with a good book and a hot cup of tea.
And I thank the Lord that each season
has good gifts stored within it.
For you and me.
If we would but open our eyes to see.

My emotions are a whirlwind.
A swirling mixture of
grief, anger, fear.
grief, anger, fear.
And only by feeling them.
Only by giving them to Him.
Will I ever get out.
Of this whirlwind.

Just as Job in the Word,
could it be that once
the pain of loss is over...
Once the grief has been
poured out...
In a river of tears,
like an overflowing spout...
my latter days will be better than the former?

Once I have learned from this,
clung to Him,
and come out stronger...
could it be that the latter days of my life
will be happier than the first?

Yes, this is His plan for me.
From the God who loves me.
Full restoration of all that I've lost.
And realizing that in comparison
to knowing Him,
all else is loss.

Lord, I give You this day.
Help me to seek Your face,
and walk in Your ways.
Let me ever seek Your guidance,
in every step I take.
And to Your Presence,
let me be fully awake.

When guilt and regret
fill my heart with grief,
and when fears of the future
give me no relief,
Let me find You in the quiet moments.
And find rest of soul.
Remembering that only in You,
can I ever be whole.

Lord, I give You this day.
You are the Potter,
and I am the clay.
I give You myself.
I give You my will.
I give You my heart.
I give you...
my life.
Lord, I give You this day.

The lizard is alone.
The lizard is small,
insignificant,
looked down upon.
By some.
But...
the lizard is unafraid.
The lizard leaves her comfort zone.
She leaves it all behind.
An enemy comes.
And removes her tail.
She does not struggle
to hold on to it.
She leaves it behind.
The lizard is...
despised.
Alone.
Looked down upon.
But the lizard is unafraid.
She leaves her comfort zone.
And enters the King's palace.
To dwell in the Presence of the King.
She is small and wise,
and lives in the King's palace.

I am like the lizard.
Alone.
Small.
Insignificant.
Looked down upon.
By some.
But...
I am afraid.
To leave my comfort zone.
Yet...
I will,
I must,
leave it all behind.
I will leave the tail
of my past sins and regrets behind.
If that is what it takes.
If that is what it costs me.
To enter the King's palace.
And dwell in the Presence.
Of my King.

I see birds overhead.
Flying free.
Once again.
So many!
With white-tipped wings.
In the wind.
And I am reminded...
that God is setting me free.
From slavery.
I am flying free.
More every day.
And someday...
I will be free.
Completely.

Many lovely birds
congregate on the grass.
So many birds!
Oh, how I love to gaze out my window,
at this birdwatcher's paradise!
Sparrows, chickadees, and nuthatches
peck the lawn.
And then a magpie, two northern flickers,
and a bunch of robins fly in to join them.
Each bird is beautiful and unique
in its own way.
Each created by God,
for us to enjoy.
Some are small, some are large.
Some are quiet, some are loud.
Some are colourful, while others are plain.
But all are His,
just the same.
And I love each and every one.

But...
can I do the same with every person?
Will I love and accept them as beautiful
creations made by Him?
Or will I look down on some,
and favour others?
Will I despise the "magpie" people,
but love the "chickadees"?
I pray, Lord, teach me to love others
with Your love.
Teach me to love as You love.
For without love,
I am nothing. (1 Cor. 13)

(edited)

Birds sing sweetly
as darkness descends.
A dog barks in the distance,
talking to a friend.
A car engine revs loudly,
as folks are off to a  Summer party.
And then...
And then...
The sounds of a Summer evening grow still.
The moon comes out to glow.
Shining down on the silence.
Of night below.
I sit in the moonlight.
And enjoy the silence.
At rest in my soul.

Warm, bright summer day.
Blue sky with barely a cloud.
How shall I spend it?
How shall I live in the moment?
All appears so clear and lovely.
On this warm, bright summer day.

Oh no!
What's this?
The dark clouds are rolling in so fast!
This was not in the weather man's forecast!
Such strong gusts!
Where has this storm come from?
All of a sudden?
I need to find shelter,
before I get pelted!
By the hail.
Which comes with this fierce gale.

Without warning.
From a warm, clear sunny day.
A storm has come my way.
Just like in my life.
Skies can be either sunny or grey.
I need to take shelter under God's wing.
Every day.
For I will never know when will come
the sudden storms.
So it is always wisest
to just stay
in His arms.

Every moment in time.
Is a gift from the Divine.
No matter how small each one may seem.
Each moment is filled with beauty.
If I will but stop long enough to see.
Each moment is a snapshot of His love for me.
And there is beauty to be found.
Even in the ugly.
Will I live in gratitude?
And hammer away negativity?
Can I but live in the moment,
and watch my fears flee?
Moments of gifts.
Can I look closely enough to see...
A robin singing in the trees.
A small child laughing with glee.
A raindrop glistening on a green leaf.
Even my laundry piled up in heaps.
Even...
tears of grief that soak my sheets.
Beauty in the ugly.
Bringing me closer to the Creator.
Of beauty.

Moments in time.
Slowing time's passage.
With gratitude.
For beauty in the now.
For every moment in time.
For moments of gifts.
Love gifts from the Divine.

Alone she stands...
at the bottom of the mountain.
The beginning of her journey.
Her journey to forgiveness.
She looks at the steepness of the climb,
and wonders where is the strength she'll find.
Especially when her backpack is full of rocks...
The painful memories of emotional abuse and verbal attacks.
But, as difficult as this journey will be,
she knows she must take it,
in order to be free.
Then He whispers to her soul,
"Step by step, with Me,
this is the only way to climb
The Journey to Forgiveness."

She begins her journey,
one step at a time.
One foot before the other.
With the heavy burden upon her back,
which she knows she must surrender.
She makes stops along the way.
The memories surface.
Her wounds lay open and bare.
But she chooses to forgive.
To release them of the debt.
And empties some of the rocks
from her backpack.

She continues on.
The journey is tiresome,
and oh, so long.
She is tempted to give up.
Many times.
But He keeps reminding her of the prize.
Another stop.
More rocks dumped.
More forgiveness given.
More
freedom.
And another stop.
And another.
Until finally...
her burden grows lighter.
As her soul unloads its bitterness.
She sees the top now.
Oh bliss!
She climbs faster now.
She empties out the last rock.
The biggest rock.
The largest offence.
The one that was hardest to forgive.
The one that bound her in chains.
She releases it now.
Into God's hands.
And hoists herself up to the top.

She stands now in victory!
The burden she has carried so long is empty!
She has completed her journey.
Her Journey to Forgiveness.
And is finally free.
Until tomorrow...
when begins another journey.
To forgiveness.

Hope
Is
The
Rope

Held out to me
In the form of His Word.

The rope I grab on to
when I'm drowning.
In the sea
of my confusing thoughts
and turbulent emotions.

The rope I hang on to
for dear life.
Lest I despair
and sink into depression's mire.

This rope called hope
is my anchor
in the storms of life.
In the storms
within
me.
When I cannot see clearly.

I grab on for dear life.
Oh Lord, may I never let go!
For You are the One
who holds my soul.
But...
I thank You
that even if I do.
You will never let go
of
me.