Desire. So easily sparked in the hearts of man. An incendiary, smouldering insidiously. Burning.
We’re going through a difficult time at the moment – I won’t go into it but suffice is to say one outcome could be pretty crap.
A deep fault of mine is that I allow worry to wrap itself round my heart and squeeze ever so painfully. So much so I find it hard to pray. If you know me you probably wouldn’t realise – as I just ‘carry on’. I think it’s something I inherited from my mum – just ‘get on with it’. Crying about it isn’t going to make it any better…
I had to leave for work super early this morning. There’s something about silly’o’clock – like no one’s touched the day yet. It’s clean.
I’d grabbed some AVON brochures on my way out the door to post along a nearby road. I crossed paths with a man doing a paper round from his Ford Escort…remember when it used to be a young teenager on a bike?
I found myself dwelling on what’s hurting me most – and asked God where he was in all of it. Over the last few days I’ve felt a numbness that I’ve wondered is the vacuous absence of God.
So much so this morning that I asked:
“Do you love me Lord? Do you really Love me?”
After posting the last AVON brochure, unusually, I’d put on my headphones as I walked to the train station. I wanted to listen to a Christian music playlist – if I can’t pray, this is the next best way to talk to God, right?
A band came on and then as I turned into I side street my playlist jumped to the next song.
“How he Loves us..” – Cory Asbury.
‘Odd’, I thought.
I got to the station platform and phrase from the bible came to mind; Paul in Corinthians saying:
“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh..” – 2 Corinthians 12:7
I realise that there are so many others a lot worse off than me: financially, health wise…but I wonder why it feels like I’m herding kittens? Am I thriving? Am I doing what God’s really planned for me?
Paul talks about overcoming the ‘thorn in his side’ – and uses the analogy to stay grounded in Christ. If I struggle to pray in the worst times, how will I ever feel ‘connected’?
I actually feel like i’ve only just got my head above the water, and I can see the next wave coming. It will engulf me…
Shine your light in the deep well,
Where the darkness swallows me.
Dig dig down deep.
You ex-ca-vate hope and love
Buried beneath the clag.
Cloyed, cramped, clumped.
With your bare hands you dig,
You scrape away the fetid,
The thorns and the stones.
I love your unsightly face
Streaked in my ignominy,
That gore is mine. I am clean.
You make beautiful things,
Out of mud. Deliverer. Redeemer.
When you dig, dig down deeper.
Inspired by Genesis 26: 12-25
The mud in my well is……….?
Baby has cold.
Baby has a cold; watery eyes,
Staccato cough. Cough. Cough.
Baby has a cold;
Mucus covered lullabies, halt.
The night-light dim dimming in the day,
And bunny lies lonely by his head.
Baby has a cold;
Baby’s in bed. Out of bed, in my arms.
Baby cries. Red eyes, Rosie cheeks.
Shiny nose. Red nose. Crusty nose.
Baby has a cold.
I thought it a shame, as you click clicked
That you missed the warmth of a small body,
And the softest hair at his nape.
As you swipe swiped, I wanted to name you apathy, but for your self-regard.
I swallow around the tight ball
To collect blinks, a lifted chin, a
You can Like them later – or rather, you probably won’t.
Throbbing and dry.
These are the eyes,
Straining to see you,
Through the darkness.
Dimming then bright.
Those are the stars,
Splashing around you,
Wonky star light.
I left you sleeping to worship
Our God in heaven.
I left your warmth and comfort
And walked into the cold wind
And the icy rain.
But when I sat before God
And asked him to bless you,
To greatly bless you
A new comfort, like no other
Settled over me.
A love, like no other
He teaches me how to love you
How to greatly love you.