A friend has sent me this poem and it has spoken to my soul.  This world has never really made much sense to me.  I live much of my life travelling in opposite direction of where I want to be.

“Where do you want to be?” you may ask.

Far away from cities and tarmac and roads and concrete and lights.  Far away ….where the skies are clear and the noise of the day and night is rushing water and birdsong.

Once I lived in the middle of a city,  suffocating.  I would head off to the hills and mountains, to gaze at the estuary, the rolling hills, the farmlands, the forest climbing up nearby hills.

Now I live out of town, walking distance of local farms.  Once it was marshlands and so the fields have waterways cut into them, reens, that channel overflow water to the nearby sea.  I walk there at all times of the day and in all weather….and I notice.

I notice the songs of the birds, the swish of wind through the oak trees, the splash of water through the sluice.  The plop of the frogs, the shadowy outline of the resting pike, the swarming of minnows.  The elegant flight of the gentleman heron, the leaping chase of the young fox cubs, the high tree runways of erratic squirrels.  The lone sentinel daffodils, the cheerful crowd of violets, the emerald green moss creeping on a stump.

But mostly I notice the light.  It crowns this sacred  place.  The oak leaning over the reen like a wise old fishing man has a golden silhouette.  The clear skin of the gentle waters sparkle with diamonds.  The feathery seed plumes simple reeds sway like the ostrich feather fascinators of the flapper dancers.

It is my ‘go to’ place for peace, but it is not mine.  I do not and will not call it mine.  It is more than me.  It is ‘farther up and farther in’ and can never be contained.  It’s gift to me is as gentle and fluid as the passing of sand through my fingers.  So I hide this place in my heart.  And when I cannot be there, I still my heart…. and ‘come into the peace of the wild things’.

Here is a favourite of mine. It speaks to me of hope. By Nasim Hikmet, from Poems to Pirayé (his wife) from prison.

The best sea: has yet to be crossed.
The best child: has yet to be born.
The best days: have yet to be lived;
and the best word that I wanted to say to you
is the word that I have not yet said.

On my way to Llandudno. Misty, moisty, morning. Mist rising from fields, draped on trees. It is mysteriously beautiful. I know this route so well, but hard to tell where I am.

I sometimes feel like this.

Trust Him. He will be like Shasta’s companion on the lonely, misty mountain to Archenland. He will gently walk by you all the way, keeping you company, keeping you safe. A gentle stretch of our faith. He will not let you go. And we know from experience that when this most lifts, it’ll be a bright and uplifting day and we will bask in the blue sky and sunshine.

‘Trust and obey,

for there’s no other way,

to be happy in Jesus,

just to trust and obey.’

Heard it said that the heart has a mind of its own.  Sounds paradoxical.  Mind is logical, unfeeling.  Heart is feeling, not analytical.  Two different places in me.

But I don’t think I can separate either.  My decisions are a head thing that is guided by my heart; my feelings are a heart thing that are actioned by my mind.

Guess the heart has a mind of its own and the mind has a heart of its own.

Or is it that they work in tandem?  A decision made without consulting the heart may seem brutal.  A feeling that overflows without reason can seem excessive.

Perhaps the threefold chord is needed.   A mind and heart ruled not by themselves, but by the Holy Spirit.  Saves me from uncaring logic and unrestrained sentimentality.

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Guard your heart for out of it come the well spring of life.  Renew the spirit of my mind.

Not often you see this – but reminds me of line from ‘You’ve Got Mail’ that makes me smile.

What is is about winter light that is so mesmerising? When trees lose all their leaves and are backlit by sunset you see a simple beauty that all the trappings of summer hides.

Went on a bike ride Saturday.  It was fun.  Wind was hard.  Weather cold.  But good to be out in fresh air and seeing nature.  Just me, my bike, my thoughts.

Went on a bike ride today.  Same route.  This time with my best friend.  No wind.  Cold and frosty.  Good to be out in fresh air and seeing nature.  Better to be sharing my thoughts with another.  It was interesting to see things from their perspective.

Made me think about how journeys are better when you can share them.  May not be talking all the time.  May be just wheeling along.  But its fun to slipstream someone when you are tired; confirm a route when you are unsure; share a smile, a view, a drink.

Think God likes me to walk with Him like this.  Sometimes I can hear Him clearly.  Sometimes I slip stream and He takes the strain.  Sometimes I just feel His smile.

What I love is that He is less interested in the destination, than the fun of the journey and sharing thoughts, insights and smiles with me along the way.

 

Sometimes I dread the darkness of January. I know the days will begin to lengthen, but the waiting seems endless. The void seems so limiting. Empty of life and hope.

I was thinking about what God says in Isaiah. ‘I form light and I create darkness’ (Is 45 v 7 – NRSV). So …. both light and dark are from Him. Interesting. And if this is so, both are creative spaces. Light clearly is full of life and growth. The dark is not empty; it is just waiting. It is alive with possibility of future light. It just needs a spark to light up, and the darkness will, must, recede.

So I stare into the darkness, into the empty spaces of hopelessness and despair.   I go for a walk.  I smile, perhaps say hello. I stop and take in the moment. I think about now and what I can do and be now.  I steadily shine a light into the darkness. It doesn’t scare me anymore. It is just unformed light.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton