Let it burn

Sounds of scraping reached my ears, alerting me to the toast being close to becoming cinders.

Thankfully, it was not meant for me but for my beloved who likes his toast near to charcoal before he considers it ready.

He pours scorn on mine resembling 'singed bread' instead. We don't all like the same degree of heat, do we?

Life itself offers many opportunities for us to feel scorched by our circumstances, burnt by being rejected, or to feel on fire with passion and drive to succeed in our dreams and plans.

There is danger of being consumed with a whole host of emotions as we go through our days. Being on fire is more likely to make us fume, see red and give off angry smoke than feel energised.

Because the more important something is to us, the less we can cope with challenge or changes to it. 

I see small signs of it in my little toddler grandson as his thwarted goals often make him whimper or rage. He wants what he wants and he wants it Now. 

Determination is what keeps him pressing on beyond his limitations and on to the next milestone.

It begs the question:How hard do we fight for our faith? 

How much does it mean to us? 

Would we go through fire for Jesus? Maybe...

Perhaps knowing how much Jesus has gone through for us can provide all the motivation we need to aim to live our lives fully surrendered to Him?

If you're experiencing the fires of adversity right now, then you know it's a given for being human. 

Besides, all who desire to live a godly, yielded life will experience the heat of struggle and opposition.

But are you (and I) aware how Jesus is in the fiery furnace with us?

Yes, He is present, right smack in the middle of whatever we are going through.

And the heat of it all won't harm us when we realise His nearness.

Quite often we will need to stop, pause... take a deep breath ...and pray. Life scorches us and we feel its blaze, choke on the smoke and feel flames licking higher.

God already knows what we are going through and He stands ready to come alongside, comfort, strengthen or deliver us.

And once we turn our thoughts to God's ability to help rather than our inability to cope, we can be confident He will hear and answer us. 

He rallies to our cries, hears the unspoken fears in our heart and sees the incipient tears in our eyes.

Because just like my grandson is to me, we are deeply precious, special and beloved to God. 

He yearns, even burns to set us free to live above those fiery circumstances and to be at peace in the midst of problems. 

God's loving presence is also a consuming fire which scorches off the dross and detritus we needlessly carry.

In His current of grace we can breathe pure, clean air again, become rested and restored once more.

We become readied to live alive and alert to His presence, our hearts warmed with love and gratitude for all He has done.

Basking in the afterglow

I wasn't ready for Christmas, despite every good intention, a beautiful book list, devotions to dive into and expectations high during Advent.

Presents were wrapped, all was ready on the surface, family had arrived and my husband had the catering in hand.

I was as rested as I could be and not as flat out with fatigue as I often am as Christmas arrives.

Plenty of reasons for rejoicing yet my heart felt strangely weighed down.

All I seemed to be left with after a period of extra busyness was anxiety and stress. Maybe you can relate?

My Advent preparations had been good, though somehow I had lost sight of their purpose as I lost myself instead in worry and weariness.

I also wasn't ready for Christ to speak to me on Christmas Eve in the sadness of feeling unprepared for Him. To offer solace and reassurance that it's not about my/our efforts at all but about His.

As the great I AM, Jesus is always with us, always present, always close to hurting hearts.

He sees the way we wrangle to squeeze Just One More Thing in until we nearly squeeze Him out, and how we are desperate to make something big out of our smallness.

He witnesses our struggles for perfectionism and answers with His grace.

Jesus whispered words of comfort as I sat on the bed with tears in my eyes, sorrowing once again over how flawed I am, how impossible it is to feel my way into worship (or worth-ship) most of the time.

He met me in my weariness. He strengthened me in my weakness. 

He spoke in the silent places and gifted me with the glowing fire of His love.

Reminded me how He came for those who were needy. How His gift to us is Presence and our gift back to Him is simply sharing all of our lives, hearts and minds with Him.

Yes, especially the messiness, the muddles, the sadness, confusion and pain.

And now? We sit between Nativity and New Year, pause in the gap to catch our breath.

Depleted, satiated and weary, we wait in the interim to rouse ourselves for another celebration to begin.

It's a time to reflect and wonder anew about opportunities ahead. But, instead of seeing it as Christmas being all over for another year, how about considering: Isn't this the best bit as we bask in the afterglow of God's great Love come down?

Truly believe we already are pre-approved and loved beyond measure.

Rest grateful in those arms which threw stars into space, brought life to everything and sustain us in their safe embrace.

Be comforted by the voice of One who soothes fretful hearts, brings the joy and peace of His Presence back to lives made dull by distance.

Relax to know Jesus can be celebrated all year round in our hearts and lives. He isn't just for Christmas.

Because He is right here, right now ~ omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent Incarnate God.

His Light shines in every dark circumstance and place.

His grace is new every morning.

He is always ready to receive us even when we feel ill-prepared to receive Him. 

To pour His Love-light upon souls longing for a touch from His hands. All we need to do is ask, and Jesus will respond.

Being a giver

This is the season for giving thanks, gifts and resources ~ and getting too, as some might gleefully say.

This is the time to spend, spend, spend.. then ruefully pay, pay, pay.

As our circumstances have altered over the years, I have learnt to cut my cloth to suit my means. 

And that's been hard at times because I love to give gifts, especially to my loved ones, family and friends.

But it doesn't end or even begin with spending money, does it? Giving encompasses so much more.

The best form of giving is from the heart, willing, open, generous and sincere.

Thankfully, we all have myriad means at our disposal to give to others, no matter how limited our resources, health or energy may be.

We can give:

• Our time
• A listening ear
• Intercessory prayer
• A word of encouragement
• Friendship and fellowship
• Support, a hand to hold
• Cakes, cards and creative gifts
• Food parcels or vouchers

We can share:

• Ourselves, our stories
• Our time
• Our creativity and skills
• Our faith journey
• Our hope in Christ
• A cup of coffee or a meal

I'm sure you can think of many more things to give and to share. 

The ways and means are as endless and creative as our imagination will allow.

We can reveal the 'give-without-counting-the-cost' aspects of God's kingdom in the way we live and love, give and care for others.

Just search your heart, pray, and ask God what you have within you to give to others.

There are ways to be a giver all year round; it's not just for Christmas time.

And here's the thing:Some of those blessings you give out? Well, they may return to you with interest, because that's the sort of generous God we have.

He multiplies all things at His hands.

All gifts of grace are generously given in order to be returned unto others, and given back to us too in some mysterious, divine holy alchemy.

Our challenge is to be both generous, cheerful givers and gracious, humble, grateful recipients too. 

And to aim to reveal Jesus in all we say, think and do.

Which is the theme of the video below of 'Do Something' by Matthew West, taken from the album 'Into the Light'.

I'm linking here today with Kate for #FMF where we are writing brave and free with the prompt:'Give'. You are warmly invited and encouraged to take part.

The best motivation of all

My heart leaps at the sight of him. 

He turns at the sound of my voice, eyes lighting up as recognition dawns.

Then he scampers toward me on all fours, a big beaming grin on his face.

One tiny hand after another planted on my legs as he totters successfully to his feet.

Throwing caution to the winds, (and abandoning the support of my walking stick) I stoop and scoop him to me.

We haven't seen one another in the flesh for almost a month, so we slowly become reacquainted again. 

I hold him close, marvelling at my grandson's warm weightiness and the beautiful feel of him, just as I did when he was only a few days old.

Yes, it would have been safer for me to have sat and waited while a parent passed him to me but I was impatient to cuddle him straight away.

We play together for a while and I am child again in his company.

Forgetting my limitations, pressing past the pain, I revel in the freedom of being here with the little boy who lights up my life.

I could have been more cautious, exercised some common-sense.

I could have thought more about the effects on my body of bending low and lifting his small frame.

I could have decided I was too unfit, too sore, too stiff to engage in lifting, never mind play.

But I didn't.

Admittedly, I can't do crawling races and chases like daddy or grandpa can, nor can I run or walk swift to keep apace with him like others will do.

I am the grandma who mostly sits, slides gradual and careful to the floor, the one who bends M.E and arthritic-stiff legs slowly sideways before they protest too much.

I can still stack cups, build brick towers, shake rattles and soft toys, play peek-a-boo and feed him his meals.

I will be the one who reads stories, sings nursery rhymes, does puzzles and plays the slower games.

I may be the one who gives him wheelchair rides instead of pushchair ones. Who knows?

And much as I treasure each moment and opportunity to be with him, there is always a degree of payback afterwards.

For each extra exertion comes a fresh wave of pain and fatigue, maybe unnoticed at the time (such is my focus on the moment) but relentless soon afterwards.

It can take many days to recover from pushing myself too much. Often weeks.

Though it all pales into insignificance besides the opportunity to be with my family, share time, show love.

Because in the end, love is the best and strongest motivation of all.

It changes us as we give out to others. We willingly leave our comfort zones, embrace new things, extend ourselves beyond our previous capacities.

The heart of the matter is always a matter of the heart. 

As God's love gradually thaws, restores, envelops and invades our hearts, we become open to the possibility of transformation and change.

The real, open-eyed aware, deep sacrificial, complete, unconditional, totally giving love of God helps set us free from ourselves.

It helps us grow into faith and maturity, to be sacrificial, show compassion, give generously of ourselves, our time and resources.

"We love because He first loved us" ~ 1 John 4:19

Our human way of love, wonderful as it can be, is but a poor imitation and reflection of God's love.

This is what we are aiming for as we grow more into Christ-likeness:

"Love never gives up. 
Love cares for others more than self. 
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. 
Love doesn't strut, 
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep a score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of the truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end." (1 Corinthians 13:3-13 ~ The Message)

I'm a long way off loving like this but I have a deep appreciation for the love which God has already implanted in my heart, which keeps increasing as I grow in faith and understanding.

We are born to love God and to love others. To live unselfish lives.

And what stronger motivation do we need than seeing how much God loves us and desires to be in relationship with us?

Lifting the lid on sex and sickness

Ever since I've been blogging I've tried to stay faithful to the message I believe God has given me to share.

Sometimes that can make me uncomfortable.

 My natural desire, yearning really, is to be bright, chatty, light and encouraging.

But, more often than not, I've been asked to go deep, intense even.

To write about things that are not usually discussed in polite conversation.

Now I am lifting the lid on sex and sickness issues.

Did that 3 letter word grab your attention?

It has a way of doing that. 

Our world celebrates, deifies and worships at the altar of sex as if it's going out of fashion...as if...and advertising glorifies it in all its air-brushed, honed and toned, artificial perfection.

We can be left feeling deflated, discouraged and defeated before we ever get round to performance.

So what is a mature (in years anyway) Christian woman like me doing by opening up this proverbial can of worms?

It's precisely because God invented it in the first place and ordained it as an act of consummation, union and communion of marriage that it is open to discussion for Christian believers.

And in Scripture, the Song of Songs/Solomon stands alone as a celebration of sexual love as well as being perceived as an allegory for Christ and the church.

I'm not coming at this from the stance of moral, theological debate or opinion (though I have a strong personal persuasion there), nor from a medical, ethical viewpoint ~ though I used to be a nurse and worked in gynaecology for a few years.

Rather, my part is to share some thoughts from experience as a woman in her 50s with chronic health problems who wants to raise awareness.

Contrary to popular opinion, one doesn't necessarily lose interest in sexual intimacy in mid-life, age 50, 60 or beyond, even if ability and agility may be less reliable than before.

Neither does interest necessarily wane when chronic illness/disability affects and afflicts us and make functioning complicated.

Couples in this scenario who love one another, and desire to be physically intimate, may have to be more sensitive, understanding, patient (and inventive) but not necessarily desist altogether.

An inability (enforced by physical illness) to make love fully and freely is an additional burden, strain and frustration in a limited and constrained life.

When chronic illness affects either partner, it can leave a legacy of great fatigue, pain and weakness that make any kind of sexual contact (never mind gymnastics) very hard to achieve.

Yes, I am fully aware that there is so much more to a marriage relationship than sex, and those other factors enhance the love and friendship that already exists between a couple.

Though nothing beats the deep bonding effect of sexual intimacy; it's an act where mind, body and spirit engage together and can provide a brief touch of 'heaven on earth' at its most sublime.

But, for those who are forced to prematurely alter or relinquish what they had previously enjoyed it is a bitter pill to swallow, requiring further adjustments to a changed lifestyle.

I've outlined these potential problems in long-term relationships. Just think about how great the problems are for those who are younger and/or single, with every expectation of a healthy sex life to come.

To find those normal and natural expectations thwarted or unmet due to chronic sickness is a huge disappointment, source of frustration, sadness and discouragement.

Loving and being loved are among the greatest human needs we have and they encompass multiple expressions of being close and special to one another in various ways.

Adjustments are often necessary as we reach senior years, and also as we adapt to having long-term health problems at any age.

Despite media hype, very few of us will have a so-called 'perfect' sex life. The best we can hope for is that our sex lives will be mutually satisfying and fulfilling.

I haven't included mental health issues, problems or illness here. But they (and the side effects of medication) all play a highly significant role in potentially causing alteration in both sexual function and self-esteem, requiring further adaptation and adjustment.

So why am I speaking out about these issues?

Surely they are private things?

Well, yes, and no. So many issues get side-lined, ignored or neglected simply due to fear or embarrassment about "What might people think?"

Because I am seeking to press past people-approval issues in my life in general, it seems timely to write about it now in a 'feel-the-fear-and-do-it-anyway' kind of way. Also:

• It affects me a great deal personally ~ due to my chronic illness, disability, history of childhood sexual and emotional abuse leading to mental health breakdown and sexual dysfunction, I cannot easily be the sexy wife my husband deserves and needs ~ as I have shared in this open post about my marriage.
• Many suffer silently and need to know they are not isolated or alone.
• Sweeping these problems under the carpet only leads to them creeping out again, ready to trip us up when we least expect it.
• Providing an open forum aids greater understanding and respect for sufferers.
• Life is enhanced by mutual support and hope of seeing change.
• Finally, I'm at that stage when I'm growing older and bolder in my life and writing!

And, though we may try hard to conceal it, all of us are broken, wounded people to some extent or other.

Though Jesus defeated sin, sickness and death on the cross, we do not witness the full physical reality of that in this lifetime, but will only do so in His kingdom to come. For not everyone gets healed or delivered this side of heaven. 

We live with contradiction and mystery. We also live with great hope for the future. Here now, with God, we are on a journey toward greater healing and wholeness.

One day, these perishable, earthly bodies will be fully redeemed and become imperishable, eternal, resurrection bodies. And I, for one, can't wait!

What do you think?

How have these issues impacted your life or the life of your loved ones?

Please feel free to join the discussion in the comments below.

********

**Note** This post was partly written in draft form several months ago, awaiting such a time as this when I felt brave enough to share. My hope and prayer is that it will help others who are struggling in this area too.

Thank you to all those who took part in the 'Love Idol' draw in my last post. A winner has been selected at random from all who left a comment. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to complete the draw, but my health has been particularly challenging over the last month.

However, I'm delighted to announce that Ceil's name was drawn (by my OH) as the winner. Congratulations, Ceil! Please send me your snail mail address and a copy of 'Love Idol' will be winging it's way to you asap. 

A message we all need to hear

Some of us can wait what feels like a lifetime to hear the words, "I love you" from a person's lips.

Maybe it's a parent whose validation and approval we've never had.

Or a sibling who failed to get over their early resentment of us.

Perhaps you long for these words from a loved one ~ friend, partner, husband, child.

Because who doesn't want to be and feel loved? It's hardwired into our system.

And God knows that. It's why He sent Jesus.

Such love. Such grace. 

This is love way beyond our imaginations ~ total, unconditional love from the One who knows all our faults, flaws and failings yet loves us just the same.

How do I know?

I've looked into the mirror of His word. Seen, read, accepted and believed its truth ~ albeit falteringly at times ~ and lived with its constant presence.

Witnessed it countless times in the countenance of my loved ones; the acts of love, grace and care lavished on this unworthy woman could only be God-inspired.

My heart has expanded to make room for it, and it keeps on growing because this is a love beyond measure that fills the universe itself ~ Uncontainable. Limitless. Eternally giving. 

I've experienced the fathomless forgiveness of it gratefully in my wayward heart. 

Human love is bound to disappoint us at times, wound up as it is in our woundedness. 

Sometimes it feels like sweet nothingness, all candy fluff with no lasting substance.

Deep down we long to know we really matter to someone, we are loved. Hear someone saying, "I love you".

And my friend, even if no-one has said those three magic words to you, God has and will continue to whisper them loud until you believe Him.

Because faith and trust open the door to His Presence.

He will not barge in.

He waits patiently ~ the most ardent Lover of our soul ~ to be given admittance.

The Hound of Heaven pursues us quietly and relentlessly through the years. We matter that much to Him.

God will never give up on you ~ even if everyone else has ~ you can trust Him and His faithfulness.

How does this eternal Love speak to us? In myriad ways. 

In every sight and sound in creation, in the very air we breathe, release and receive, in every beat of our hearts ~ we find solid ground in the things we believe from His word.

My friend, please hear and receive this truth today ~ you are loved far more than you will ever know.

You are precious to the One who engraves you on the palm of His hand, walks beside you every moment, longs to be in relationship with you.

Nothing can separate you from His everlasting love which covers you here into eternity.

He always answers hearts hungry for His Presence. 

Rest in the revelation that you are outrageously, radically loved by God Himself ~ it will literally change your life.

As you listen to the video below, let it's message hit home and impact your heart with His amazing love.

Joining here with Holley for #coffeeforyourheart and with Jennifer for #TellHisStory

You are warmly invited and encouraged to take part

Why you don't have to hide anymore

Welcome friend.

I'm so pleased you are here.

In this space I want to share coffee for your heart.

Drink in whatever troubles you.

Offer a listening ear and a hand to hold.

Share the things that bless and encourage me.

Be someone you can feel at home with.

So kick off your shoes, pick up your coffee (or tea if you prefer), make yourself comfy and get ready.

We'll share coffee, comfort and encouragement.

Today, I have a letter to write you...

Dear You,
I see the pain you try to hide behind words and smiles, because deep in the windows of your soul you carry a weight of woundedness.

Despite evidence to the contrary, you don't feel truly loved or validated.

Nothing really fills the gaping space where trust, safety and security should be.

It feels easier to erect walls around yourself than allow anyone close admittance to your inner core. Fortifications. Defences. Build them high enough and no mere mortal can scale them.

Until someone reaches out and breaches your defences, and you notice how hedged in you really are.

My friend, this was my life for many years. 

I lived scared. Hid the pain. Refused to recognise how I'd closed off my heart. 

On the surface we can seem fine, in control, content even. On the inside? When we're on our own? We curl away as foetal-curved commas withdrawing from ourselves and the world around.

There is help. There is hope. We don't have to hide anymore. 

God is here. He is ready, willing and able to enter into our pain, help us face the walls; and as we co-labour with Him in their removal..brick by tiny brick...they come down and we are set free.

His unconditional Love ~ is our security.

His sacrifice on the cross ~ the doorway to forgiveness and mercy.

His Spirit within ~ our shelter and safe place.

His grace ~ our enabling and equipping.

His Life ~ becomes as one~ with our life ~ as we open up to Him ~ like a flower to the sun.

These are the encouraging words and thoughts I want you to hear as we start a new year: {and believe me, I need to hear them too}

Absorb the truth of who you are ~ beautiful and beloved.

Know deep in your heart ~ you are safe always.

Hold on ~ to the reassurance that you can be set free.

Feel deeply within ~  you are special, precious to God and loved beyond measure.

Believe ~ you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you.

Fight on ~ whenever the going gets tough. Because God fights for you and will never give up on you. 

Listen to His voice. Hear the heartbeat of God soothing your own. Come close to the throne of grace and find mercy in your hour of need.

Healing and wholeness are there for the taking.

Are you ready? I hope so. It may take time. I'm still very much a 'work in progress' in this area as in many, but we all have to start somewhere. 

This could be the year you open up your heart to all that God has in store for you. 

God's arms of love are reaching out to you, just as we reach out to our own loved ones to hold them safe and close.

I close with today's #smallstone offering {part of the 31 day Mindful Writing Challenge} to bless your heart:

'Arms of love'

"Arms of love encircle me

holding secure and steady

as I finally exhale, release

breathe soft and calm

feeling prepared and ready

to accept and believe

hear and receive

that as beloved arms

encompass round

God's Spirit hovers

without a sound yet

speaking things He wants

to urgently impart

into the very depths

of my insecure heart

saying, "You are safe. You are loved. 

You are beautiful. You are enough.

You are free ~ just trust in Me"

©JoyLenton2014

Joining here with Holley and all the other lovely encouragers who want to share 'Coffee for Your Heart'. Do join us next Wednesday for more words of reassurance and encouragement.

Holley has written a lovely encouraging book:''If we could have coffee ~ 30 Days of Heart to Heart Encouragement' that will really help lift the January blues.

And here's a great resource that has aided me in the process of working on removing the walls around my heart and becoming free ~ 'The Wall Around Your Heart' by Mary de Muth.

Also linking with Emily and Jennifer as we seek to write out our #ImperfectProse to #TellHIsStory

Nothing muted here

It's been one of those weeks when thoughts don't flow freely and thinking feels more like a mud-dredging effort to mine for a few scattered gems than an easy, relaxed, effortless activity.

Life with M.E often brings brain fog and muddled (muddied) thinking as well as problems with focus and concentration.

Strangely, when words sit heavy for me and hard to find, it seems that poetry rises faster with more fluency than prose.

So this week's Five Minute Friday writing challenge lends itself well to verse, for better or worse!

Today's prompt is:'Red'

START..

Red Offering

You want me to wear red

that shout-out-loud, 'look at me'

noisy hot breath 

of anger and danger

can't I wear something 

more muted instead?

Red is...poured out, bleeding offering

on a cross of shame and suffering

death pooling, injury, wounding,

scarring, revealing scarlet thread

signalling loss and pain

And yet...there's a vibrancy 

a glow, shining brightness about it all

love's token of a heart aflame

grace revealing in Jesus name

a warming, birth of hope rising

with each petal falling 

from head, hands and feet

as offering for us all

to pass on to those we meet

Shout it loud...red is good

don't fade into crowd

be proud to take a stand

and a share of the sorrow 

and shame He bore

so you can bear the weight

of Love He brings to everything

with forgiveness threads spooling

onto ground weeping red

it's a cause to rejoice

for us all

©JoyLenton2013

STOP.

Linking here with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday where we write freely on a given topic, from the heart, as it comes, with no worry about perfection.

You are very welcome and warmly invited to join in.

Well met by Moonlight

Welcome. Kick off your shoes. Grab a coffee or tea. Make yourself comfortable as we take a nostalgia trip down Memory Lane.

I am sharing a story of an experience in my life, based on the #concretewords link 'The Moon'.

By the light of the silvery moon

"How sweet the moonlight sleeps along this bank!...soft stillness and the night become the touches of sweet harmony" ~ William Shakespeare 'Merchant of Venice'

Our first proper date. 

Alone, save for the Saturday night pavement-pounding, raucous-laughter-erupting crowd above us, solitary swan or drifting duck swimming solo in the watery depths.

We chose the quiet route of whisperers and lovers. A riverside walk in cloistered dark.

Better for hiding blushes and confusion (mine) or awkwardness (his). How to traverse this bridge between friendship and what may lay beyond?

Misunderstandings were the order of the day as we attempted to find a foothold in this strange, brave new world. 

I had already flown from his bewildered side at a group Firework Party, mindful of his Ex hovering nearby and feeling myself too raw, too exposed as the Replacement Girlfriend.

Now, hugging black velvet coat to shivering body, hands digging holes into pockets, gaze averted to feet clomping in inappropriately clad water-admitting suede boots, purple swirly dress flirting audaciously in the chill breeze, I dared cast a sidelong glance at this silent demi-god beside me.

Awed by his presence. Awed further that he should have sought me out when he had girls lining up for introductions, queuing even to ask him out by giggled asides or requests from friends. And I....made liquid by his presence, weak and wobbly from his smile...hid myself and my thoughts far away.

A myriad of tiny trickling lanterns in an indigo-blue canopy of sky gave this night a starry feel. Peeking out as through slashes in a curtain, lay a silver orb with light to aid our sight, night-careful indicator of deep waters.

Wind blew chill, hands cooler still, though hearts and veins thrilled with heat of their own.

He slowed his pace. Consideration, hope and a hovering enquiry on his face. Hand held out for mine. A promise of warmth, togetherness and beginnings of the love he always held for me.

I looked away, watched the duck, feeling torn...with desire to embrace...and indecision. For in my past, lust came masqueraded as love, arms pulled away when I needed them, hands held, touched hotly when I didn't.

A legacy of shame: abused, used and rejected by those purporting to care - all did their share of destroying me inside.

Now, I beheld his gaze and it melted my reserve as I read kindness, gentleness, sensitivity and love that cared only to keep me safe. Nothing hurried. Nothing expected - apart from whatever I was willing to give.

Taking it slow, so it didn't feel like 'taking' at all. 

Love given out sweet-poured as nectar. Moon dipping low in an act of benediction, seal of approval for two friends and would-be lovers.

Such a simple act - hand holding, embracing. Such simple trust we built upon stone by stone as years of life spanned out before us

Image Courtesy of FreeDigitalImages.Net

Whispers from weeping willows lining the banks as they sunk low to water were a portent of the way tears would be as much part of our lives as tenderness.

All that came after was yet to come. I would barely emerge, blinking from the honeymoon, before my mind would break apart, personality and character lost for years as I pieced myself together again - bit by bit - by God's grace.

Further heartache and heartbreak would ensue as issues from the past pervaded the present. Storms aplenty could not tear apart or destroy, hard as they tried. We were welded and melded together by Trust.

Kept safe by the love of One greater than any circumstance that came against us.

For, God shone in that moon as He shines now in our hearts, bathing them with His love. 

Gifting us with the Light of His Presence.

Hand-holding us throughout the years - as He still does.

Now, silvery moonbeam-threaded hair, bodies and faces betraying the years, grappling once more with life's trials, tribulations and pains, our hearts pulse strong, tender and true for one another, as love... heated and tried in the furnace of affliction...comes forth as gold.

****************

Linking here with Nacole at sixinthesticks for this week's #concretewords post.

Do join us and practice writing about the abstract by using concrete words as a prompt.

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