It's hard to believe it has been almost 5 1/2 years since I last took the time to actually scribe a post.  I could offer a thousand excuses - from losing my mom to a long battle with metastic breast cancer in late 2017 to moving house at the start of 2018; dealing with my teenaged daughter's battle with depression and anxiety and her sexual assault (and was that a cause of or the result of the depression?).  My oldest son convocated from York University in 2019 - proud mama moment there, and married in 2020.  Life is always busy and interesting.  There are so many excuses I could offer, and none of them are truly valid.  Life just got away from me - I was busy just getting through my days.  But here we are at the start of a brand new year, so I think it's time to begin again. Again.

In July of last year, an ordinary Thursday afternoon at the office, a distraught client came in, demanding to speak with the lawyer who was handling her domestic violence matter.  He was not in, and she subsequently took me hostage, and eventually attacked me with a knife, stabbing me multiple times in the throat, neck, scalp and arm.  You can read more about that in the links below (there are others as well)  I won't take up space here with that story.  I've told it many times, and it would be a post in and of itself.  But those events gave me time to consider what I am supposed to be doing here.  Considering the many conversations I have before, and since, I think one of those purposes is to try and share the source of my strength and some of the reasons I look at life the way I do.  

I cannot claim to have all the answers (oh, that I did!) or to have done any academic research.   I have not.  I've lived my life.  I've observed and read, gleaning what I found useful.  Forgive me, my atheist and agnostic friends, I make no apologies for my Christian viewpoint, but understand there is no judgement implied.  And if you have been offended or wounded by those who call themselves followers of Jesus, allow me to apologize on their behalf.  I think they often have the wrong end of the proverbial stick.  But that's a matter for another day.  Take me and my thoughts for what I am - a little confused, quite sarcastic (and sometimes caustic), still figuring out who I am and who I want to be, but sure that one of my callings is to shine some light into the darkness, to say, "it's going to be ok," and "you got this", whatever "this" happens to be.  I apologize if my posts are muddled, I'll try to work through one thing at a time, but I'm quite sure there will be crossover - but I have to start and let the plan reveal itself as I go.  It was my one (ok, one of many) bad habits writing in school - I'd write, then muddy it up to look like a draft, then draft an outline.  I'm a "consider the material, dive in and sort the details later" kind of writer.  If I ever write a book I'll need a phenomenal editor!

So here we go!

Hostage survivor thanks first responders for saving her life | Lethbridge News Now

The Lethbridge Hostage Victim tells the story of their survival - Alberta News (canadatoday.news)

Solitude

Gathering my solitude around my shoulders

     Like armor

shielding myself from what I don't know

              being unseen, unheard, forgotten?

Like a shroud

       burying myself in invisibility

so no one can wound me again

Long have I worn this garment, it fits like another skin

and yet, some days, it weighs heavy,

                        chain mail, not silk

tight about my throat choking me like tears that will not flow

bending my shoulders, chafing at those still tender wounds

I steel myself to face dragons

                         real and imagined

Armor carefully polished, gleaming in the sun;

Solitude now a cloak draped from my shoulders, lifting in the breeze

Can they, will they, see me now?

     Will they, can they, hear me?

             - the laughter and the silent cries

                              

                   Do you see me reaching, grasping, hoping?

   Or will I remain here?

 On my own, Alone.

Burning Bridges

No one is an island,

so the poets say

We are all connected

Below the bridge between us

water once laughed, dancing over stones

Now the current sighs, steam rising from the icy flow

Where we once stood, shoulder to shoulder

watching paper boats sail out to sea,

under my feet now the boards,

once so solid and sure

are charred and brittle.

They crumble in the wind,

spiraling down, dark barges

drifting into the fog

Careless embers lit the fire....

A haven, steadfast, true, irrevocably damaged.

I kneel over the smoldering chasm

barring the way to your shuttered garden,

and wild brambles spring up

over the path to my own sheltered hearth

Sleepwalking

Sleepwalking

         invisible, unseen,

silent and unheard

Heart aching,

    hands trembling

       eyes misted; one blink will betray me

choking on words I cannot speak, will not confess,

for admission lifts them from the shadows

         gives them flesh

 

Keeping to the shadows

       I creep into your courts;

Music is a balm to a weary soul

        the pain, the fear, the doubt

           the emptiness

                melts away,

Shadows dissolve in light

Bread and wine; a banquet,

            satiates

The torpor begins to dissipate;

Your touch, your voice soothe a troubled heart.....

Peace is fleeting

           Around me the teeming crowds flows

          Vague smiles never reach eyes

I remain invisible, unseen, silent, and unheard

But the shadows have faded,

the memory of your hand is still warm on my back.

Feast With Me

This past Sunday the sermon was about the familiar 23 Psalm.  It is beautiful in its simplicity, and in the depths and layers of meaning it holds.   Several years ago I wrote about it myself,   I cannot begin to count the number of messages I have heard, or read, on these few familiar verses.  And every time there is something new to learn.  

When I wrote on it in 2011 it was the word "through" ("Through the valley...") I was focused on.

My mom had just begun cancer treatment again and we were all terrified.  We still are, but here it is 5 years later, and she's still fighting.  It may not yet be the miracle we're hoping for, but it is a miracle nonetheless.

But lately, for the past several weeks, actually, I have this picture in my mind of a great, long table, covered with a rich, snowy white cloth, shimmering Irish linen.  The table sits in the middle of a field of emerald green grass, waving in the summer breeze.  The sky overhead is cloudless and blue.  Sometimes the table is bare, waiting to be set, but I know there is fine china, heavy silver, delicate crystal to be laid in preparation.  Other times the glass ware and silver gleams in the sun and the array of dishes boggles the mind.  It is a banquet beyond comparison, beyond description.

We don't throw dinner parties like that any more. And it's a shame.  Setting a beautiful table, serving carefully prepared dishes....what a wonderful way to honour  our guests, be they family or friends.  And what a reminder of the Wedding Supper we are all anticipating, such beauty and bounty beyond imagination.  

This particular poem may seem rather unrelated to the feast I am describing.  In fact I wrote it as something of a challenge.  And yet as I wrote it I could still see that table stretching out under the summer sun.  

Under a canopy of velvet blue and satin green

On a fragrant cushions

Serenaded by redwing blackbirds, meadowlarks and dragonflies

Kisses light as summer breezes

Let me serve you exotic nectar

from my own cup,

drink rich wine from yours

Feast on thews

The sustenance of passion

I am faint with hunger

Feed me with honeyed words

Lush fruits,

Bounty of plowing and planting

Bread and wine

And after the feast

simplest pleasures,

sweetest fare

and richest

Drift to dreams

Under a canopy of velvet blue and dappled green

on fragrant cushions

Serenaded by blackbirds, meadowlarks and honeybees

caressed by summer's breeze

http://viewfromhere68.blogspot.ca/2011/06/i-walk-through-valley.html

Tag....You're it!

Tag! You're It!

          And we flee shrieking with laughter

tumbling carefree

                   over knolls, through the trees

Underducking the swings

            dashing high into the cloud dazzled summer sky

caroming down the scorching slide

               up and down again the see saw

breathless we collapsed in the shade of the solid classroom wall,

bouncing balls, hula hoops, jump ropes,

Red Rover, Red Rover, Duck, Duck, Goose

Endless childhood, rivalries renegotiated every recess

innocent and fierce.

Tag, you're it....

           and we flee, sighing with passion

stumbling careless

               over tussocks, through the a shady grove

Following a merry dance

                    whirling under a star strewn sky

whispering secrets to the silent virgin moon

                      spinning, dizzy and still so sure

I don't dare stop,

     if I stop I'll fall,

                       and falling hurts...

Can't you see the scars on my heart?

The skinned knees of my soul?

“Catch me if you can....”

dashing away again

you open your arms to me

wide and welcoming

waiting for me to catch you.

The Empty Pantry

Yet another year has come and gone, and its trials and triumphs are now largely memories.  The dawn of a new year brings reflection, and an inherent time to pause.  We set our house back to "normal" today, packing up all the Christmas decorations, setting them aside for another 11 months.  The house feels airier, freer; but maybe we just have regained some space; and having packed away those festive trimmings, and properly cleaned the house for last night's dinner guests this is simply underlined.

New Year's Eve Emily and I went to a house party to ring in the new year with friends.  It was the first year she was actually able to stay up and see the proverbial ball drop.  Truthfully it's the first time in years I have done it too.  Most years I opt for a glass of wine on the couch with the comedy specials or a movie and call it a night well before midnight.  In any case we had fun.
That night, or in the wee hours of New Year's Day, more accurately I had an odd dream.  Odd not just in subject matter, but in that it was recurring.  Most dreams, once you wake, dissolve into the mist never to be seen again,apart from perhaps your ability to recall them.  This one seemed to pick up like a paused movie each time I woke and then returned to sleep.
In the dream I had returned home from this party, and in walking into the house saw my deep freeze standing open, and utterly empty.  I was annoyed and perplexed, but not overly concerned (as one might be to discover several hundred dollars of food vanished.  I woke, briefly, thought the dream odd, and rolled over, back to sleep.
Again I dreamed.  This time the refrigerator was also discovered to be empty.  My reaction was the same.  A third return to dreaming and now the thawing roast on the kitchen counter, a sizable piece of meat, was also missing, as was, I soon noticed, my computer.  This time I was perturbed, but still not upset, and I called the police who asked me for a list & valuation of my absent foodstuffs. (No other material things were absent, just the computer).  As I began to try to figure out the value of all the meat & prepared meals in my deep freeze I finally woke up.
I lay nestled warm in my bed, pondering this dream, since I rarely recall them on waking, unless there is some purpose to the dream.  Nothing came to mind, and I was still not concerned about the lacking foodstuffs, which I briefly considered to be a sign of coming privation.  I have read articles lately warning of increasing grocery prices in the coming year.  But this did not resonate as making sense.
I let it alone and moved forward with my day; largely spent preparing a feast to share with dear friends.
Over dinner I did tell my friends of my dream, sometimes someone else can see an interpretation where I cannot.  We discussed their plans for the coming year, exciting changes I think; and my own hopes and plans, and the sustaining grace that saw me through the past year of unemployment without want or doubt that good things were to come.  God did bring me through, to a job that suits me, uses my gifts & satisfies my needs.  Although it was difficult & at times stressful, there was much grace and never any real want.

At the end of the evening I tucked Emily in & had a short chat with Peter before turning out the lights and seeking my bed again, pleased with a delightful evening with friends, tired and making to-do lists for the following day.  As I lay there mulling over the past few days and the coming ones as well it occurred to me what my dream might mean.  I strongly considered messaging my friend with these thoughts, mostly so I wouldn't lose them, but I couldn't find the energy.  And, if there was merit to them they would remain til morning.
I remembered, belatedly the dream decision to call the authorities, and the subsequent request for an enumeration of the losses.  In that moment I felt strongly that all the losses I have endured over the past several years have indeed been enumerated, and noted, and that those losses will be replaced or restored.  
When I woke up in this morning I knew I had heard the answer most distinctly, but was kicking myself for not writing it down....it had vanished with the sandman.  But very quickly I began to see it again, along with further meaning.  What I became aware of this morning was a very keen sense that the old has been cleared away to make room for new abundance.  As I began to share these thoughts with my friend the knowledge that my losses have been cataloged too returned to me.

2016 will be a year of great abundance, despite the state of the economy (there is more to abundance than mere money, after all), a year of hope and promise.  Happy New Year!