Midnight Chimes

Alone

wrapped around myself

in my lonely bed

Midnight chimes

Your voice,

Your voice!

Speaks to me of roaring fires

of summer skies

of babbling brooks

of northern lights in autumn's hush

And the miles between us

dissolve

Heart to heart

Your hands dance over my skin

In the dark

Your eyes gaze into mine

I can see you there,

Feel you in my arms

I turn to sleep again

My head cradled on your shoulder

alone and not

Never Alone

Alone you stand

Facing demon enemy

Head bowed

Gathering strength again

Grasp with weary, aching hands

Your heavy, blooded sword

Wondering

How long, how long?

A quiet murmur at your shoulder

Turn your eyes and see

In gleaming armour

Gaze resolute, a warm but determined grin

A fleeting wink, a nod

Unexpected boon-

Not alone!

Heart skips one beat

And strength surges

Anew

Together raise

The battle cry.

(Jan. 22/12)

All of us grew up hearing some version of the Golden Rule: "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." Of course its corollary is equally true, " one ought not treat others as one would not like to be treated." I think if you asked most people would tell you the Golden Rule can be found in the Bible. And most people would be surprised to learn it does not. I think perhaps because it sounds very like the second principle Jesus used to sum up all of the Law: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Matthew 22:39)"
And I don't think you will find many people who would disagree with that particular principle, for all that we may have a skewed notion of who our neighbour is. But that is not what I wanted to talk about in this post.
In several recent conversations I keep happening upon a similar theme. So many of us are seeking love and acceptance in one form or another, and many, it seems to me have poured themselves into relationships to what seems no avail. It seems to me we forget to read the whole statement. We are to love our neighbour as ourselves.
Years ago it occurred to me, probably after some accusation of being selfish, that in order to love others adequately and fully I needed to actually LOVE myself. I had to stop denying myself, putting myself at the bottom of the list always. I needed to recognize I was as valuable & worthy of love & affection as the people I was charged with loving.
While I confess I do possess some hedonistic tendencies, I am not suggesting it is wise to give sway to my every whim & desire. Rather I am saying it is OK for me, for you, to put ourselves a little higher up that list of people we care for.
Allowing myself time to curl up with a novel in a bubble bath, to go out for coffee or drinks with a friend without my daughter, makes me a better mother. Whatever it may be, taking care of myself makes me better at whatever role I am playing.
When I slip and beat myself up, and start echoing those old lies; that I am selfish, or foolish, unattractive, unlovable, unworthy I find it very difficult, if not impossible to be loving to others. When I turn a deaf ear to those whispers, and instead hear I am loving, giving, kind, beautiful, fun, intelligent, wise, I suddenly soften and find it easier to reach out & care for others.
I suppose it stands to reason in a culture torn between seeing self-denial as good, or righteous, religious (whatever word you would give it) and pleasure as evil or selfish it should not be surprising we have lost sight of this. Is it any wonder when the world looks at the people they consider "religious" they do not see love but hate? When did we decide being miserable was holier than being filled with joy?

Walking on Water

Floundering in the water
I have stepped out of the boat
but my feet have found
no purchase
The waves rise
try to swallow me
Arms, feet flailing; all of my being struggles
to keep my head above
I cry out
the storm abates
I see you
Standing, still, reaching for me
Wind in your hair
waters lapping at your feet
My fingers touch yours
I stop fighting
my feet find solid ground



I love the story of Peter daring to walk on the water. With little understanding of faith as a child I remember thinking if I only believed hard enough I could walk across the Waterton swimming pool. And I did try. Summoned all the belief I had and stepped off the deck into the water. It didn't take me long to decide that maybe I had missed something. As I gained knowledge I tried to convince myself the story was just an allegory, a metaphor, but I couldn't. I needed to believe it was possible to walk on the water.

I can't walk on water yet, but I do understand now the point of the story was that as long as Peter kept his eyes on Jesus, on the One who called him to dare to step out of the boat, away from the familiar, away from safety he was able to to the impossible. It was when he looked away, saw the waves and recognized just how ludicrous his actions were that he began to sink. So it is with me. As long as my eyes are fixed on where I am going I am able to believe, to accomplish anything. It is when I look away, when I see my circumstances, when I hear the taunting, doubting voices in the wind that I begin to flail.

All of us have dreams & desires that may seem impossible. Looking at our circumstances may underline the improbability of it all. But I'm going to keep stepping out of the safe and familiar boat and trying to navigate the waves.

I've been thinking a lot these past few months about dreams; not the lovely sleep induced fantasy type, but the this is what I want to do with my life type. I enjoy reading Jon Acuff's blogs and am looking forward to reading his book "Quitter" in the very near future. Since the start of the year Jon has been challenging his readers to pursue their dreams, offering encouragement and suggestions on how to do just that. I confess I have not actually done what he has suggested, although every step has made sense. I suppose I have fallen prey to excuses, and to fear....what would happen if I succeeded? Or failed, after putting my dream out there?
While boldly conquering fears in other areas of my life this one, today, looms large. In the past I have spoken my dreams aloud and then either been discouraged by well meaning voices of dissent (You can't make a living writing, you need to be practical) or by silent disapproval (all those voices of the past saying you're not good enough, who would want to hear what you have to say? ) Worst of all was changing dreams, or plans, and then for years having to explain the shift. When I was first at university I thought I wanted to pursue a career as a teacher. As things happened it wasn't in the cards, and I changed my goals. I earned my BA and decided to set my dreams aside. The years wore on, my life changed, and as I started looking for work I kept being asked by old acquaintances why I wasn't teaching. Eventually I buried all my dreams and looked simply to surviving.
But dreams won't be denied. They have a way of returning, time and again, and we can let them haunt us or we can acknowledge and pursue them. I don't know about you, but I don't have time for ghosts and hauntings. I don't want to get to the end of my days and still be wondering "what if...?"
And so I have begun, again, to slowly let my dreams out into the open. I do not share them with the world at large, but with a select few souls I trust to speak encouragement and belief, not doubt and denial. The post-it note above (borrowed from Jon Acuff) says it well. Admitting our dreams is risky. Speaking my dream aloud makes it real. And it makes me accountable to it. This is not a bad thing, but I realized there is a hint something akin to superstition in my unwillingness to admit my dreams. Speaking it makes it real. When my first marriage began to crumble I remained silent for a long time. Somehow in my head I believed if I spoke the words it would become true. As long as it remained only in my heart & my head I could believe it was only my imagining. Some may call this denial. I don't think that's quite accurate. For painful things I see it more as a defense, a way to hold on until I get to a place where I can deal with the difficult days to come.
And why do I do it then with good things? With my hope & dreams? Again it is some weird superstition. If I admit things are moving the way I want the "other shoe will drop" and I will be setting myself up for setbacks or failure. I suppose it come back to that old lie that I don't deserve to be happy or to have good things in my life. And that's just it. It is a lie.
And so going forward I will embrace my dreams. I may not share them with nay-sayers, but I will let them out to breathe.

And what about you? What dream have you buried in fear & doubt?

Jacob's Dream

My head cushioned on Jacob’s pillow,

Away from the glow of the campfire,

And the ringing of voices joined

In the harmony of friendship

I lay on stiff prairie grass

Counting diamonds displayed

On black velvet

In the master jeweller’s showcase

Just out of reach, Northern Lights dance

Angels go up and down

Their wings flutter around me

Keep out the chill night air

Twenty years fly

At long last I am returning home,

Hope has won out fear

My life is full, but there remains an ache

For childhood skies

Tomorrow’s dawn will bring the reckoning

Will I be welcomed home again?

Again beyond the campfire glow

Tonight to wrestle doubt and fear

As the moon arches across the sky

Grappling One so like me

Locked in the determined embrace

As dawn begins to paint a new day

I will not release her without her blessing

A new name, and a limp to remind me

I turn my face to home.

I wrote the first half of this a lifetime ago, when I was in university. I still remember walking away from our circle of friends laughing around the campfire to watch the stars. I so often felt isolated and alone, even surrounded by our friends...and some days even now those feelings come back to haunt me.

I'm not sure what called this dusty piece of work to mind this morning, but something did, and in my heart I knew I saw the second half of the story. Yesterday I was reading something in Jon Acuff's blog that caught my attention. He said we don't like to wrestle with God, but we do need to keep in mind that to wrestle with someone they have to be close to you. It's a broad paraphrase, but I thought about it, and it is true.

I don't know if you have wrestled like Jacob did, through the night, I know I have. More than once exhausted I have cried out "I will not let go until You bless me". Like Jacob I have taken God's promises into my hands and then fled in fear. I have been blessed as I hid out, and I have wrestled angels on my journey back.

At the end of the story the Man Jacob wrestled touched his hip so he walked with a limp, and the blessing He gave was a new name. Jacob, the deceiver became Israel, one who struggled with God and with men and prevailed. I am still learning my new name, to see myself as God sees me.

A Chinook for the Heart

"Absence is to love as wind is to fire; It extinguishes the small and kindles the great."
-- Roger de Bussy-Rabutin
(Act 2:2)

Gentle coastal breeze
gathering passion
rushing
over rocky peaks
Racing fury over grassland

Assailing all that would stand in its path,

Igniting fire within
thawing icy hearts
bringing spring into midwinter;

changing the landscape of our lives.

Bring a BIG Cup

After a wonderful 10 day Christmas break I returned to work this morning. I admit a part of me was missing the routine, and the time constraints on my days that help me get things done with some degree of efficiency. On the other hand I was really enjoying savouring my coffee late into the morning, reading my book & catching up with friends at my leisure. As I bid farewell to my lazy vacation days I found myself commenting on Facebook the old adage "all good things must come to an end". As I wrote those word it occurred to me this was in fact a truism. In fact, in a world where time is linear ALL things come to an end. We only grieve the ending of those things we enjoy, the not so good things we see the end of with relief. Few students are sorry to see the end of exam week, most of us are delighted to say farewell to winter's icy grip.

I drifted from writing this post, as I often do, writing through the small windows of time afforded me in my day, and discovered one of the friends I rely on to keep me focused had commented on my wry farewell to my holiday time. What she said made me smile...because it was a reflection of what I was in the process of writing here. She wrote: "glory to glory which means the holidays were great and things are just gonna keep getting better,,,," and continued on to say: "you need to believe that it is just gonna keep getting better which means keep dreaming bigger dreams ...,it's not a question of will He fill my cup it's a question of the size of cup we bring to Him to be filled".
2011 has just drawn to a close, and as I have said earlier, while it began quietly it ended well, with the sense, to me, anyway, of doors and windows being flung open on new possibilities. New year lofty thoughts aside, I have a dear friend who reminds me almost daily that every day is a good day, but some are better than others. He is right. In choosing to see the good things in our day, not the not so good we begin to choose joy. And in choosing joy, joy begins to choose us.
Life is good. It is far from perfect. Loved ones are hurting and ill, there is never quite enough money ("I wish you were rich," my seven year old declared yesterday). But at the end of the day I have plenty. I am loved, I have friends, my children are safe & healthy, and I have hope for great things to come. Don't ask me what, I can not put a name to it, but I know, deep in my spirit, the tide is turning.