In A Field

I'm so tired of living this way.  Tired of giving something to you only to take it back up again when my gaze shifts to the trouble in front of me.  I'm painfully stubborn.  There is no way I can keep this up. I hear you whisper to me -  "Won't you just let me love you?" I'm running around in circles, trying to find the purpose and the constant.  I look to my own vices and solutions, one more feeble than the next.  I can barely put one foot in front of the other.  My back is hunched over from the weight of the monotony of trying to work things out down here. And still I hear your whisper- "Won't you just let me love you?" I'm short on patience and long on frustration.  My wants and wishes pile high around me and I complain that things aren't happening quickly enough.  In vain I stomp my feet and hold my breath like a toddler throwing a tantrum.  My emotions are large and I act out of the sudden rushing impulse, determined that I...

I wonder if you remember me. I've been present in every instance of your life.  I was with you when you took your first breath; your eyes bright, your life spread out before you. I delight in you.  I love seeing your face, hearing your voice, watching you grow.  I know every little thing about you.  What takes your breath away, what makes you angry, what you're really afraid of and how many times you've given up only to begin again.  There is no mystery in you that I cannot solve. You have a knack for going from one thing to the next, waiting for your life to start.  You want desperately to truly live and you seek so much of who you are in places where you'll never find it. Those places leave you with a dismal contentment that comes and goes with the setting of the sun. I've cried with you in the darkest moments of your life, sat with you when you felt like you couldn't bear to take another step, when you thought you'd come to the end of you...

And he is six and he walks into the kitchen, all tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and sweetness.  And we tell him. His face is so small and dear, so tiny and he doesn't understand the depth of our words.  In that moment I am 11 and instantly have wisdom beyond my years because of that look of innocence and because I know a little more than he. And he is thirteen and he is confused, growing and lonely.  I'm driving us down the road and I'm singing a song of love for a God Who is beginning to fill in my blank and wrecked spaces.  He is dozing beside me, mumbling that I am a good singer, that he likes the song.  Yet I cannot be the arms that hold him because my own grief wells inside of me, by times, that I fear it may consume me.  He is still so small and young and yet he knows too much and has felt too much.  I feel I am his protector and I am not able to fix this.  I cannot be what he needs and there is an ache that I shouldn't know and I do and be...

I'm clinging to Your promise.   i won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you This can feel like walking on a beach of sharp rocks in thin sandals, every hard edge is felt underfoot.  A burden deeply rooted into who I think I am- the story I told myself to make it through.  A story full of exaggerated circumstances and victim armour I now find hard to discard.  Lies caught up in a reflex of survival, but that have no leg to stand on. The old life fortifications are being dismantled and I find there's a part of me that's fighting against it. Foolishly.  I've been duped by my own mind's eye.  What I always thought was the truth about myself was a pale shadow of the Wisdom of real, honest to goodness Truth. you'll learn to live freely and lightly About so much more than physical hunger, I am learning how to cope without reaching for a tangible, home-cooked, sugary something.  I'm learning to sit in my own discomfort, insecurit...

The five contently munch on waffles and cereal at the kitchen table as I leave and make my way uptown for a few hours. Entering the kitchen of the cafe, I find my companion already putting day old donuts and bagels onto plates. She is flying through the kitchen, stopping to say good morning and giving me a quick hug. I can never go faster than she does. The pots of coffee ready to be poured.  Our customers stand outside waiting to come in. Looking impatiently in the windows as we move through the kitchen preparing to open. Hot water is making mountains of bubbles in the plastic wash tub.  We'll wash the same cups and spoons multiple times this morning.  Refill after refill.  Bottomless cups of coffee.  The sound of the cups being filled a familiar sound even as this place has become familiar. Pouring just the right amount.  Can I have a sweetener?  Can I have a plastic bag?  Do you have any bread? Small notes are written on brightly coloured...

1977 Not all that long ago I stood at my mother's dresser shuffling through the things she left behind.  Searching for remnants of her in the small bottles of perfume, half used containers of cream, and her favourite brown leather gloves.  All things that were once so ordinary now held much wonder and charm.  I would wander into my parent's bedroom when no one else was around and look through her clothes.  Leaning in to her closet, desperate for any hint of her familiar scent, still able to hear her voice when I closed my eyes.  I spent many hours in there, sitting on her bed, looking in the mirror, crying myself weary.  Even now there seems to be just a small amount of myself left back there in that eleven year old girl.  I knew then, as I do now, that God was near.  That He would not walk away from me even when the time came that I'd try to walk away from Him.  Through the ...

    Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who walks this way.  You are not my everything.  Oh, how I want You to be.  This isn't Your fault, but mine.  I struggle to keep You at the centre of my everything, to carve out just a bit of time to give You.  I have this deep need to love You.  I believe in You with everything I am.  I can't stop it, I am compelled.  But how I struggle with my flesh.      There are times when I don't think I want to move beyond this place.  It's one of blissful ignorance.  Or so I choose to stubbornly, foolishly believe.  Truth is, I can't sit here and remain unmoved.  You, Redeemer, are constantly pulling everything forward, in a direction of restoration, not stagnation.  But You do not force me.  You woo me with Your love.   You show up in wonderful moments of clarity, gloriously to my sur...

I've learned a few things over the course of the last number of months.  Things you shouldn't do in the midst of uncertainty.  I made a list. withdraw eat for comfort- when you are alone, tired, happy, bored or awake hold onto expectation whine about how things used to be be thankless look on the dark side don't ask for help blame God and pout I dwelt in the hopeless land of this list.  Blinded by my own self pity and the unwillingness to open my eyes.  Fear was the fuel.  But a shift occurred late one night while I sat on Abby's bed and listened as she poured out the heartache that we both shared.  Two girls, separated by almost 30 years, yet so similar in feeling.  It was at that point that I realized I had been choosing fear over faith. Over my life I've mistaken fear for self-reliance.  Holding out hope that just getting through would be enough even though my "faith" claimed far more to life than this.  Wh...

When I was younger, shorter, and blonder, I spent a great deal of time in a field that bordered our land.  It sat on the top of a hill, sloped slightly and gave way to the village below.  There was a well-worn, slanting, and crooked path up the middle.  The view from the top took in about as much that was exciting about the land of Goshen.  A lake.  Fields with cattle and sheep.  Our school, the store, the ball field, my house.  And the road that could take you away.  I felt as though I was as far from home as I could be while still being close enough to hear and see my father calling for me on the back doorstep.  This was my safe place.   It was m y retreat when the weight of the world was too much and I could no longer keep it in.  I would walk to the top and sit in the cool grass, watching as my world kept going.  I could step out of things fo...

  My silence has invaded more than just the blank posts that I've tried to compose.  I've been sitting in a quiet rebellion, keeping my thoughts to myself.  Hesitant to speak them into being, afraid I'd not be able to stop the flow of words.  Frustration, disappointment, confusion, uncertainty.  It was somehow easier to just remain silent.  But the silence hasn't been enough.  It never is.  I could feel my white flag being raised over the last few weeks.  A slow unfurling.  Like a realization.  My fight was only hurting one.  Me.   I have had a hard time breaking into my inner sanctum, that quiet place that is mine and mine alone.  I had wandered from there, not being intentional to come aside and stop.  To stop and take time with the One who had inspired this place to begin with.  Truthfully, I've been...

I've never been much of a risk taker.  I colour inside the lines.  Wear sensible shoes.  Venture carefully through green lights.  I'm wary of best before dates.  A rule keeper. But when it comes to love, well, that's a completely different matter.  This only occurred to me recently as I was driving away from a familiar place.  I was crying because my heart was broken.  That's really what it came down to.  I took a risk.  I opened my heart to Him and His people and they walked in and made themselves at home.   Loving is so many things, both good and bad.  Hellos and good-byes, waiting and watching, stopping and starting, hurt and hope, pain and joy.  All mingled together in a messy jumble of tremendous emotions.  But, do you know what really occurred to me?  Thankfulness.  Thankful that I have the capacity to love...

I am... One over whom the Lord rejoices, sings and claps. For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs. Zephaniah 3:17

Music is playing quietly while I take a few moments to pause, to sit, to listen.  I close my eyes.  The field comes into focus.  I am sitting on a park bench.  The wind is softly blowing. I sense Your nearness.    You sit down beside me, placing one arm around my shoulders.  Your hand, nail-scarred, covers mine.  I put my full weight into You and lay my head on Your arm.  Kissing my head, You begin to softly whisper.   You tell me Who I belong to and all the wonderful things You know about me. "You are my beloved child...my dear friend...I rejoice over you... you fulfill my joy...I will never leave you..."    

Friday evening is upon us.    Many women.  Many stories.  Many lives.  Tired.  Searching.  Hopeful.  We wait to be renewed.  Some of us are holding back.   I am in that number.  Arrogant and full of pride.  Certain I've only come here to bear witness to others renewal. Retreating isn't a necessity for me right now.  I'm here while you delve deeper into yourself, unlocking doors that have been closed.  I'm a wide open book.  Happy.  Sorted out. Delusional. The music begins.  A woman stands to dance.  Light pours from her face.  Surrender written on her hands and feet.  Love in her eyes. With uplifted hands, she sways like grass in a field.  Her eyes fixed on Something we can't see.  Tears seep from the corners of her eyes.  Her hands reaching, seeking, praising.  I watch, comfortable to sit and see her worshipful exchange.  O...

I know I share time and again how incredibly in awe I am of Jesus. How the beauty of who He is stirs something inside of me. I can't help but speak of Him. I completely love how I can be in His presence even when surrounded by so many. Standing in the midst of thousands of people during the U2 concert, I stared up into the clearing sky. I prayed to Him- "Hey, Jesus, what do you think of all that's going on here, how do you feel about this?" A peace settled over me as I felt Him close to me. The knowledge of His grace, mercy, love, and power fell into my heart like a crashing wave. Oh how He loves! I bend under the weight of it. When I looked down my eyes fell on three guys who had been annoying me earlier with their pot smoking- they passed joints around like I would share a pack of gum. In that moment I was filled with immense Love for them. How beautiful He is, to grant me a teeny, tiny glimpse of His furious love for all people. Not just for the ones who have...

The only day I appeared to be photogenic was on my wedding day. Any other time I have my eyes closed, a dorky look on my face, or I'm not looking towards the camera. On this day I didn't know Wayne was taking the photo- that apparently helps. At any rate, I like this picture. I'm not trying to pose. I didn't tell Wayne to hold on a minute while I fix my hair or whatever. Maybe what I like best is this really looks like me- this shot capturing something genuine. I really love being myself. Perhaps it has everything to do with where I stand with God. I feel incredibly secure, loved, and free. Not so long ago Something felt as though it was missing. It was as though I had the words to a song but I couldn't hear the music. Surely, Lord, there is more to this life than merely surviving. More than just getting through the day, all so I could go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow. I was tired. Of settling. Of muddling through. Of living on auto pilot. ...