Saturday moment

dark still
rain pelts against the window
no bird songs filling the air
the house is silent
as the land simply lies there
drinking in the rain

only six hours remaining here
then pack up and off to the cottage
and although it has been amazing
I am ready to go
and happy to be leaving some baggage behind
to go home lighter than I arrived

the Spirit had His own plans for yesterday
I learned a lot
about myself and others
I learned a lot deeper things of God, His Son and Spirit
I learned more about what it means to embrace the altar
and die
I learned that in the body we really do feel one another's pain
I learned that freedom comes with a cost
I learned there is a lot of judgement within the body
I learned to stand at the foot of the cross

I need to process much

fitting it is again raining outside

friday moment

and so
here I am
Friday ..........
and while other days have been days of giving
this is a day set aside to receive

something not always easy for me to do

still unsure exactly what it is that God wishes me to be transparent about
I went to the very end of the dock last evening,
to be close to the water –
I lay on the dock and noted that although the waves would cause the dock to shake a bit,
it remained solid –
did not collapse –
or be destroyed–
that is how I feel at times,
there is a shaking when stuff comes against me,
but my feet are solidly planted on the Rock of Jesus –
and I am not destroyed

a boat must have gone by somewhere –
I did not see it nor hear it
but the waves,
the ramifications of its passing,
now reach me,
touch me –
and this makes me think of sin in the body of Christ,
or our own generational sins –
we do not see it,
nor hear it,
and yet it eventually reaches us,
crashes into us,
touches us if it is not cut off...........

then I looked up and saw a huge hawk
or perhaps an eagle???????????
(I have been crying out to see an eagle)
circling above,
floating in the thermal,
never moving its wings,
content to go where the wind took it,
not fighting,
resisting
or even assisting the wind,
just soaring in the heat of the love of God,
in the wind of the Spirit –
no matter where,
no matter when ........
and how I long to live like that ...........
no matter where,
no matter when,
no resisting or assisting,
soaring in the wind...........
completely abandoned to the Wind .............

and so
we will see what comes out of my mouth
when asked to share .......

wednesday moment

awakening to the brilliance of the sun
the entire morning was then spent in the brilliance of the Son

after receiving four hours of teaching
fueled by many cups of coffee
we broke for a bit .............

two went shopping
one went for a nap
one went for a walk

the remaining five of us sat 'round the table
sharing
learning
listening

and it was so wonder-filled to be at a table of shepherds ..........
have a chance to ask questions
try and gain some insight
seek counsel
share others pains and wonderings

one of the pastors let drop a pearl ................
our hunger sometimes causes us to drink anything that looks like water

the discussion went very deep, very fast
enriched by tears and laughter

this daily bread was so flavorful
so nourishing
so filling -
and yet left me hungry for more ......

three more sessions to come during this day ..........
and I am expectant
pregnant already
yet still expectant .............

and so
here I am
tucked away in this beautiful room
in this quite amazing place
on the shores of Wolfe Lake

I have been blessed this time with a private room
called eagle
I wonder at the name
and what it is I will see
whether it will be an outward seeing
or an inward seeing

there are only five of us on this course
some came farther than others
but we all came because of One

it is an eight day course
necessitating bringing some luggage
but we quickly learned
tucked in our luggage
is some baggage

yesterday we shared our stories
and we all have a story ...........

last evening was very tender
after worship
we positioned ourselves before the Lord
in a womb of silence
allowing Him to place His finger on areas needing His touch

I discovered my well of grief
has not yet been emptied
and the grief is far wider
deeper
more encompassing
and painful than I knew

it was sort of fitting that it was storming outside
the pelting rain and bending trees
a vivid picture of what was going on inside my heart

later I lay in this huge bed
and simply let the tears flow
until it seemed my heart was pillowed on a sea of salty water

in the middle of the night
I got up to pray and journal
and found a tender prayer that had been emailed to me
by this new found friend in England

he also included a picture of the view from his poustinia
his name is David
how fitting as he spends his days watching the sheep of his pasture ..........
he says we have much to learn from sheep ..........

this is now day 3 of the course
and I somewhat hesitantly await its unfolding .....

tonight we will simply gather and worship for the evening .....

I have no doubt it will be a day of wonder .............

wild moment

when a child

my wild soul guided much of my life

inspiring my play

my creation

and my friendships

as I grew up

I

slowly and surely

cloaked my soul in all sorts of civilized clothing

as most of us do

my wild soul came up in me now and again

but it had no place

or support

and its tenderness shrank from the world

eventually I chose the “should” life

anxious to put behind me

the dangers of living with my tender soul exposed

however after years of this

despite my best efforts to keep everything in order

my suffocating soul cried out

causing a need to create a life

nourishing my soul

and honoring my tender heart

nurturing a soulful, creative life that is of benefit to others

requires tenderly reconnecting with my wild soul

creating a loving

open

nonjudgmental space

for my tender parts to gain footing and courage

A.

poustinia moment

although the calendar declared May

my winter season had been long crying out

for a poustinia moment

and at last

seeking the path where there is no trail

head bowed under drooping branches

carefully stepping around new life budding the forest floor

over and around the mossy rock

I was finally there ........

to discover I was not the only visitor

a messy little mouse has made himself quite at home

the birds again entrusting their nest to the window ledge

water quietly resting in the swamp

rocky hills echoing blackbird calls

it was silent inside

I saw the crack

in the closed door

I had never noticed it before

and this made me think of David

this gentle worshipper

far off in England

whose eloquent words about cracks

I quoted a year or so ago in this very blog

who has recently entered

and so enriched my life

shoes off

head down on the well worn desk

the tears finally came

there are not many places

where it is safe to cry

where no one will try to make it stop

make it better

to ease their own discomfort

like an unplugged well

the hot saltiness of grief

poured out

the rain falling

like a steady drumming

was strangely comforting

as if all outside was grieving with me

and the more I cried

the more I needed to cry

then it slowed

and stopped

and I heard singing

lost in wonder

I rested

only when peace filled my spirit

my soul

and my body

I left

I left the building

but not the poustinia

tender moment

One day I was looking at a man with a disability.

In his hand he held a tiny wounded bird.

He had made his hand into a little nest,

neither so open that the bird would fall out,

nor so closed that it would be crushed.

The nest was a reassuring place in which the bird could grow

so as to fly one day to freedom.

A mother's arms are a nest for a child,

not to possess or imprison him,

but to give him security

so that one day he can fly away.

Tenderness is like this. .

- Jean Vanier

message moment

and so
just now I received a phone call
from a friend
who is presently seeking the heart of God
on a prayer retreat
in the hills of Israel

and the message was

I just felt compelled to call you
and tell you that you are a very good mother

there is a pondering wonder to this season
that is very wide
and very deep

bridge moment

there are times

the pains of others

the pains of me

pass over my heart

like vehicles crossing a bridge

some seasons the passing is quick

and some seasons slower

lately though

the bridge of my heart is bearing the weight

of a stalled pain

this pain remains parked

not moving forward

and not receding

is it simply that the pain is so big

so wide

such a heavy load

that it needs to cross over slowly

in order to completely reach the other side

fortunately the footings of my heart

are embedded in solid Rock

there is a creaking

a groaning

a stretching

some cracks being exposed

but the underpinnings are holding

as the weight of it increases

a new sound is being birthed

an ebbing and flowing sound

like the rising and falling sounds of labour

it is necessary to flow with its rhythm

to breathe

and not push

and in time

this will either pass over

or crush me

but even in a crushing

it will be a falling on the Rock

lament moment

do you hear the sound of my broken heart
do you taste the salt of my tears
do you feel the groan of my grief
do you see the emptiness of my arms
do you touch the depths of my despair

this pain is mine
but more than mine

it is a mother heart pain
the pain of all mothers missing their sons
not knowing
aching
yearning
drowning

in the winter of their lives
some needing to ask forgiveness
some needing to receive forgiveness

sons who are lost
sons who are missing
sons given away
sons stolen, gripped by darkness

can you hear me

do you not know of this wrenching ache in my spirit

am I to sorrow alone

how long is my song to be sung in a minor key

this is my lament Lord

hear my cries
heal the land of my sick heart

and yet

I
choose
to
worship
you

and in my choosing
I now understand it is not even my cry

it is yours

WHERE ARE MY SONS?

michael moment

an ache
a silent roar
a swelling tsunami of loss
my heart barely afloat in an ocean of tears
ebbing and flowing with the tides of pain
why now after all these years
I had never forgotten
tucked into a hidden cradle of love
he was always there
a quiet residing
but now
this fracturing anguish
this heart stopping lung emptying wailing
where are you
how are you
are you happy
are you loved
are you loving
a man now
yet it is the silk of his tiny face smelling of warm milk
that snuggles into my neck
four months only our togetherness
but my arms
and my heart
have never been truly full since
an ache has surfaced from a hole deep deep within
I am enfolded in this empty hole
drowning in a grief long denied
and no one knows
no one sees
no one hears
but One
and He is silent
and I cannot bear it
his name is Michael
should you know him
please tell him
I am missing him