Comforting presence, has been claimed of me,
Heaven’s dew: this gift of affirmation, unsolicited, freely given: gratefully received
Still much to grow, still hopes to claim, truths accepted more deeply,
But in each moment, there is growth! More room to love the skin I liveth in.

Deep breaths come easier,
Still anxiety trembles, but
There is much more room; thus I am freer.
Stopping and claiming this moment, I must.

Waiting in transition, never fully arrived,
But always changing.
Noticing has become my favourite pastime derived,
Out of angst, comes more space for new arranging.

Before I was born

What was I thinking?
No, stop! What-was-I-really-thinking?
Perfection? There is no such thing here, this side of heaven,
Yet, I’ve spent my entire life trying to be,
More, hating who I was,
Striving to be more?
Was it from the trauma of my first surgery
To my brain at 11 months young, that then suffered, again and again, three times more?
Was it the generational trauma carried in my DNA? Unseen, unheard but screaming: you’re not enough!
Stop trying, give up!
Was it others taunting and teasing, yet in reality testing,
Testing what I would do with their jealous tirade?
What a waste.
That’s not how I want to live anymore.
I want to rethink, no, re-imagine a new reality, and step right into my innate creativity.
Breathed within me before I was born.
By YOU...

Mustard Seed

Mud cakes, sand castles, dress ups and... Make-believe;
Child-like curiosity, awe, wonder and...
Other-world conceive.
Silence, in a busy grownup world, gives opportunity for playfulness you can retrieve,
Embrace these moments, seek them out, faith like a mustard seed, oak trees sprout.

Broken dreams

I tried to be clever,
Carrying too much in my hands.
Inevitably, the glass did sever,
Shattering on the floor, lands.

Can I draw parallels,
With my broken dreams?
God’s too, when He breathed life into dust particles
But we, His people, became broken vessels
Living off dry, earthly streams.

In this season, God’s promises
Seem improbable.
Broken vessels are the masses,
Spirit-God, do the impossible…

Mend my distorted dreams today;
Bringing peace where there seems no stay.

Cold isolation,
Hibernation, and intense fascination,
With self. I needed to do this to reclaim the lost, broken-hearted, and wounded parts of me,
Lonely seasons bring out despair: depression, desperation.

But then things crack and light streams in,
Warmth and life overpowers darkness, enveloping,
With love, grace, a heavenly face that wipes away every tear and love wounds that trace
The maker of our seasons, the one who writes new story endings.

Liberation is a fire that burns deep within, new rumblings, in the heat of new adventures,
New maturity emerges, new insights replace old that are purged,
There is freedom here, new dreams spark, courage is abounding in my inner nature,
New possibilities are seen, tasted, and felt,
Small steps evolve into giant leaps into the future.

To stabilise all this growth, you have to take stock,
Step out of the spotlight, and tend to the flock.
It’s time to reflect, marvel, and enjoy, all the moments in life: good and bad,
And embrace the confidence of standing on firm rock.

From this place, I step into my reward,
Rejoicing that all things are made new, on his accord,
New wisdom is found: pockets with pearls, lavish plunder, so different from the darkness that once hung,
But now I fight my battles with a double-edged sword.

Time tells tales: of where we find our fortune,
Seven years of recovering, seven years of dependence, seven years of healing, seven years of growing freedom.
After seven times seven minus seven days on life support,
lying in a coma, wondering when I would wake up, if ever.
These years were spent learning: from unknowing, awkward, and uncertain to knowing, revelation, and authenticity.
I saw my underbelly, I wrestled with my inner foes,
I reconciled with my complexity,
And was held by the One who truly knows,
The future, the road that’s still ahead, and
The enlargement, the promises fulfilled.
The love and acceptance, the rejoicing.
I step out into the unknown more bolder now,
Holding the hand of the One who is more known.
Time is ahead of me, I don’t need to speed it up, but rather I desperately want to slow it down: and
Savour the moments, minutes, and the memories,
Of life here: now that’s a fortunate tale!