an awful moment

death in stalking
stockinged feet
approaching
nearing
touching
silently
from the shadows

this thing named suicide
so powerful

and yet
on its own
completely powerless

cannot succeed
without assistance

and why was the assistance given

what is it that makes
the utter darkness
so dark
it shines

offering some sort of light

the ending
seeming easier

the unknown
more palatable
than the known

and what of the now

what is her now
where is her now

is there regret

I suspect
the despair of the loneliness
is more acute
in the now
after the fact

did I fail her

there is no rest
no peace
no comfort
in the
"how could I have known"

this is an awful moment
certainly not a moment
filled with awe

just an awful moment

aaaaaaah moments

I opened the door of my home
to a stranger this week

this gentleman
very quickly evident
a gentle man

weighed down
with the wonderings of the ways of God

a heart broken
feet dusty from the desert
hands emptied of all doing
eyes clouded with pain

his cloak
the brokenness of a pastor

his luggage
rejection
deferred hope
questions
emptiness
and a bruised spirit

the language of his tongue
only French
and mine
only English

our only speech in common
tears
groans
and the touch of our hands

I wondered what I could offer
this servant of the Lord
how could I even speak
so that he would understand

and in the ways of the Spirit
this was all taken care of
immediately

our hearts became one
talking was not necessary
only together kneeling
in the Presence

through words that stumbled a bit
he shared
that his heart
felt the burden in my heart
for him

and he knew his safety
had been assured
through this heart touching

on the evening of the second day
Jesus spoke
into the heart of this gentle man

the language of the Lord
giving revelation
insight
hope
love

the cloak of brokenness
fell from his shoulders

all luggage put down
enabling a standing up

the desire to give up
exchanged for an openness to hope

language is never a barrier
in the things of the Spirit

there is a hearing
a touching
between hearts
making words not necessary

a stranger entered the door of my home
but a brother entered the door of my heart

Jesus met with His son

and so today we will part
this gentle man will return to his home
and I will simply return to the things I do

but there is no leaving of each other
there is no separation

my heart has been enlarged
because I opened the door of my home
to a stranger

remembered moments

very aware today
of the whisp of life

here
then gone

in a moment

there was a woman
whose name we are never told
yet I remember her

and there is this wondering

will I be remembered

what perfume am I pouring out

whose head am I pouring my fragrance on

is it costly

entering moments

The voice
that was no voice at all
spoke distinctly
although it was not audible

it is a precipitous journey
going into the depths of another's heart

this entering the heart of another
can only be done by identifying with them
and that is excruciating

loving people means ascending the mountain of faith
while touching my own fears
my spirit shudders
causing a silent cry to rise from within

the intimacy of eternal belonging
a place hard to get to
yet one that lives within
and beyond
the very present

alabaster moment

stumbling through her blinding tears
feeling such pain
the room grew quiet
as she made her way to Jesus

pierced by the whispers
of the unspoken rage
wrapped in her shame
she knelt at His feet

she did not speak
yet every word was heard
as she poured out her love
from her jar of alabaster

so don't be angry
when I press in
pouring out my praise like Mary's oil
washing His feet with my tears

you weren't there
the night He called my name
you didn't feel what I felt
when He wrapped His love around me

you don't know the cost of the oil
in my alabaster jar

outside moments

the clouds
some gray with rain
others of whited fluff
swirling in that leisurely way of clouds

every few minutes
completely changing

the slow movement
seemingly rolling so steadily
yet actually
moving so rapidly
transforming constantly

as is the move of God
seemingly moving in our lives so slowly
but over time
over a year
we see
He was sweeping us along in His breathless pace ...
and we end where we did not foresee
we go where we never expected
we arrive where we never planned

we find ourselves moved ...
within the Move of God

the Holy Breath of God
moving the cloud of God's purpose
blowing and whispering
with gentle power

the wind blows where it wishes
you hear its sound
but you do not know where it comes from
or where it goes

the Holy Spirit
ever aware of Father's mind

all He does in harmony
with what Father has on His mind . . .

which is the end

every stirring breeze of the Spirit
toward that end

God stirs
by His marvelous thoughts.

"God is in cloudless rest about me
unchangeable in the satisfaction
of His boundless thoughts"
J.B. Stoney

inside moments

it is interesting
sitting
having a conversation with "adults"
wrapped in big bodies
but hearing
and seeing
only a somewhat frightened
struggling
very unsure
vulnerable
little boy

and feeling
the vulnerable
very unsure
struggling
little seed
within myself

so necessary
to look beyond the wrapping

but

that takes risk
and the desire to be interested
in what one finds
when you untie the ribbons
and take off the fancy paper

and
the willingness
to accept
and love
and treasure
what you find within

and how often
do we take the time

and how often
do we treasure
the gift
of one another

divesting moments

in this season of divesting ……..
I have been looking at each item
with fresh eyes

remembering where it came from
and why it was important enough for me to keep

searching out the meaning of each “thing”
and reliving each memory

and then being very careful
in my method of divesting

something that was meaningful enough for me to keep
some for many many years
has to be treated respectfully, with care

like friendship

friends are a gift from God
and we have a responsibility to hold that gift carefully

when friendship deepens into community
true community
there is an allowing
of your life to be seen
like a crystal goblet
with the hands of that community
holding the goblet with you

helping hands
holding the goblet of your life
high in the Light

sometimes those hands suddenly let go

sometimes they toss the goblet of your life away

and it shatters
along with trust
and hope

and the shattered shards pierce and slice your heart

it takes many seasons
for the shards to come to the surface
so they may be removed

it is a fiercesome thing then
to bring this freshly repaired
not quite solid
goblet
near those hands again

once shattered
now tentatively put back together

there is a deep wondering
if it might be impossible
to repair again
enough to recover and be useable
should there be
a second tossing away

truth moment

and the result?

there were moments
of nearing the passing point

and moments of failing miserably

and interestingly

although these were my moments
they were not only my moments

have I failed?

I don't think so
because I am able see each moment
and no longer feel frightened to go there

do I wish the result was different?

not sure -

all in all
I am happy being honest

and content knowing

testing moments

today I will learn
if I am I what I say

the opportunity to be translucent

will I be able to allow the love of Jesus
to enter into my still open wound
and fill me
so that I can pour His love out
into another's
still open wound

I am wondering
if healing is not so paramount after all
but more the willingness
to allow Jesus to use my wound
however
wherever
for whomever
He chooses

even
for the one who wounded

and didn't Jesus Himself do just that?

maybe we spend way too much time
seeking healing

perhaps we are to simply
seek Jesus in the midst
of our pain
lay our head on His breast
and rest in submission

although not absolutely confident
I have hope
I will pass the test.

pulling moments

what a day -
and not over yet

pulled here
and pulled there

pulled to rescue
pulled to speak
pulled to look
pulled to comfort
pulled to war
pulled to affirm
pulled to pray

everyone pulling off little pieces
until now I feel all fragmented
all scattered

wondering if there is anything left
of me
for me

like pouring from an empty vessel
nothing left to come out
but fleshy air

and this is danger zone for me

where it is possible
to learn
to do
ministry

I need a cave

no -
a poustinia

Enough!
tomorrow is lock down day with God

right after my morning meeting
and the noon hour prayer session
and the afternoon counselling session
and dinner with my pastor
and leading the evening prayer meeting

this is crazy

I want off this roller coaster

OK
Thursday is lock down day with God!

because Friday the pace picks up a bit .........

stone moments

while continuing to ponder
the searching
the scattering
the running
the leaving
to find God

there is this realization
this fact
this truth
that

we, the ‘stones’,
are already prepared…
we have been quarried in different locations:
different denominations,
different ethnic backgrounds,
we look different,
we act different,
we talk different,
we even walk different…

but
we have been designed to fit perfectly together!

In whom all the building fitly framed together
grows unto an Holy Temple in the LORD:
In whom ye also are built together
for an habitation of God through the SPIRIT.
Ephesians 2:21-22

by His hand
we are being placed in the same temple
for His glory

life moments

allow Life itself to be ever present. John 1:4.

life can not be mastered
it has to be given away

life belongs not to man
the ones who take it, break it

life is for the altar
those who dare to leave it there, are the survivors
life springs forth from an altar

to really live
to live truly
to live a rich life
has its root in an invitation of the Cross of Christ
to allow that Cross to do its work

life formulates and expresses structure
organization will never bring life

a life lived with purpose and candor
giving Him the vessel that He brought forth for an eternal purpose
giving Him my time, every hour, every minute.
giving Him my body, my energy to be spent in His way
giving Him my life, living unto Him, spending my life on Him

afterall
He spent His to give me this opportunity

cutting the cord moment

most of us pass through life umbilically tied to the protection of the familiar.

many good people remain in lifeless churches
simply because they desire the security of familiar faces
more than the truth of Christ

if we are going to become holy,
we must sever the chains and restraints -
the bondage of desiring just an average life,
choose to leave the camp of familiarity
and place our tent in the presence of God.

desert moments

it was the anguish of the broken body that aroused my anguish
a terrible feeling of confusion
inner agitation
a sense of death and emptiness
the quiet grace of communion with God disappeared
and I wondered if it had only been an illusion
now replaced by an overwhelming inner turmoil and pain,
the discovery of my own terrible brokenness hidden under my capacity to do things,
hidden under my knowledge and intelligence
hidden under my casualness, security and humor
hidden even in times of prayer

I knew I could either run away or discover who I really am
I knew I was very close to learning how to "do" ministry
the very way we have learned how to "do" church

I needed to be born again in Truth
and my gentle guide through all this is the Paraclete
the One who answers my cry
in the embrace of mercy and misery.

the Spirit blows so quietly over my earth, that if I am not attentive
I run the risk of not recognizing the Presence of God -
He is hidden in the cave of my being.
He promises that I will find Him there.

God told me that I had to seek the path where there is no trail
but I am discovering His signposts in the people He brings alongside.

touching moments

when we are not in touch with our own brokenness
our priorities are seldom in personal relationships and acts of love.
we create a false world made up of pretence and appearance
rather than true encounters.

in every person there is a part that is afraid of healing
that does not want change
a brokenness with which one has learned to live
and which seems safer than the unknown.

through our wounds
the power of God can penetrate us
and become like rivers of living water
to irrigate the arid earth within us.
thus we may irrigate the arid earth of others
so that hope and love are reborn.

we must not turn aside from our pain
our anguish and brokenness
our loneliness and emptiness
by pretending we are strong
but go deep within
down the ladder of our own being
until we discover,
like a seed
buried in the broken
ploughed earth of our own vulnerability,
the presence of Jesus,
the light shining in the darkness.

to see the beauty of the tiny flower
emerging in the vulnerable earth of our being
something so deep
so fragile
that if not careful
you can walk on it
crush it
ignore it
or pass it by

this flower that waits
to spring from the source of our being
melting from inside the coating of ice
and coldness
gently dismantling the carefully built barriers
that have been constructed
around the vulnerability of our heart
because of fear.

like the rebirth of the child within
the gentle
tender
vulnerable
fragile child
hidden deep within
that has been clouded over
by the need to prove oneself
to be adult
clever
intelligent
or by the need to defend oneself
against others
and their exaggerated expectations

dimmed moments

I find it sadly fascinating that the scientists in this land are talking publicly about the fact that the leaves of the maple trees have lost their brilliance this year -
the colors are dull and dimmed,
dusty browns as opposed to crisp reds -

the scientific community attributes this to the lack of rain this summer

could this be a visible sign of the spiritual dryness in this land,
an unhealthiness of our spiritual soil due the past, recent and forthcoming legislation

Canada's symbol is the red maple leaf
our maple leaf is no longer red

the symbol of our land has been dimmed
like our spiritual atmosphere

our maple trees are dying a premature death
is the country about to follow?

when will we, the church, wake up
and repent for our apathy
so that the reign of the Spirit will once again come
and restore us to life.

the spirit of tolerance that has invaded our churches
that has invaded our parliament
that has invaded our leaders
that has invaded our laws
needs to be addressed,
bound
and cast down.

does anyone else see this?

who am I moments

the past few days have been filled with unsettling moments
the last piece of family lake property has now been sold -
after 4 generations
no more family toes being dipped into the Rideau
no more gatherings on the shores of that body of water

then 2 deaths, side by side
both neighbours
one always across the street
and the other around the corner
for all the years I lived under the roof my father provided

like part of my past being cut
pulled out
disappearing
erased

a disconnection
feeling adrift a bit

and now
this picture arrives

turns out it is my sister

but I could have sat beside her
without any recognition

these are very very weird
who am I
moments

worship moments

Worship can degenerate into a selfish grabbing for the supernatural

There are those who sing with their mouth
But there are some who worship with their lives.

Worship shapes the human community in response to the living God.
If worship is neglected or perverted
our communities fall into chaos or under tyranny.
The world is hostile to worship.
Some Christians even get killed because they worship.
The world hates worshipers.

Workers murder worshipers
in one form or another .........

There is indeed this thin place,
this tissue paper
separating the material from the spiritual
where one hears the sweet songs of God

and all other sounds
are then simply meaningless

do we sing in response to words on a screen
or do we sing in response to Who we see ........

whose rhythm do we follow

what forges our ability to worship

whatever happened to our worship

are we willing to push beyond our dignity and our fears

do we have an undivided heart

if our worship does not cost everything,
or does not involve brokenness and sacrifice,
is it worship at all

does our worship etch an everlasting mark on God's heart

does God remember the way that we worship

true worship must kill us
and it must bring a sense of brokenness and humility into our body,
soul
and spirit

is there a lingering aroma over our lives that continually fills the throne room of heaven
is our worship like fragrant oil, even when we aren't worshiping any longer --
does the aroma of that sacrifice linger

what if we, in a conscious effort of worship,
were truly in unity with one another