When creativity lies dormant

Words sing in my spirit, seeking their exit. Ready to explode upon the page. 

I hug some close, for now is not their time. They must lie dormant and wait a while.

A poetry anthology (or 2) sit on the back-burner, simmering slow.

A set of prayer whispers and devotional prayers lie stagnant.  

A memoir meanders round my head, only partly started. Will I be here to complete it?

I sit impatient, twiddling my thumbs at my ineptitude and inability to complete those things I long to bring forth. 

God whispers:Everything has its moment to arise and be seen. Not yet.. soon...be patient a while longer.

All that is within me cries out "Really?", until I remember how seeds lie dormant before they burst into glorious life, how ground seems dead and fallow until it is ploughed.

Watching while others gain their harvest can be painful. 

Waiting for God to say "Yes" to us can seem endless, can't it?

I feel my years slipping as sand and wonder why it takes so long to see fruit appearing.

Once again, I sense a holy reminder of how much fruit is invisible to us, but He knows.

He knows how to shape the things we create until they are ready to be a blessing.

He knows who needs to read our words, receive our art, and when they should be shared.

He knows how things that seem ready to us still require His refining touch.

And He's more interested in growing Holy Spirit fruit in our lives than making sure we see tangible evidence of the works of our hands.

They will have their day. Even if all looks barren and bleak, cold as ice and deep as snow.

New life, new birth returns to earth after winter's chill, after long periods of seeming inactivity.

So will our work, our words, our creativity rise anew when God breathes His life into them and whispers, "Now".

'Arising'

A tiny germ of life beats slow

beneath frozen depths of snow

Unseen by mere mortal eyes

it sits patient, waiting to rise

Heeding the call, clear and deep,

shaking off sonorous sleep

it pushes its way through icy ground

blanketed by silence all around

Drawn out of shadows dark

into earth hostile and stark

Arising in white fragile purity

A reminder of new birth breaking free

©JoyLenton2015

The same is true of our hopes and dreams, goals and schemes.

If they are God-given ones, then they will rise strong at Just The Right Time ~ His timing.

I know I've felt stagnant and stalled, stuck in the mud lately, mainly due to the daily health challenges I face and the weariness they bring.

Your reasons may differ. What we will have in common is a great desire to unleash our creativity and have it positively impact the lives of others.

And as I ponder these things, I actually sense God asking me to pull back from sharing my words here (and on 'Poetry Joy'), just for a while.

To let them deliberately lay dormant. To desist for a bit from sharing them on a blog. 

Because He knows things, you see.. He knows how much I need to lean into Him this Lenten season, to rest and recover energy and strength, to become restored, refreshed, revitalised by His Spirit. 

Am I giving in gracefully? Surrendering with serenity?

Hmm.. a little, although those insidious people-approval issues and "What ifs?" make this a hard choice for me, albeit a necessary one.

My priorities are to draw closer to God, regain some needful health and strength and be more available to my family.

While I am away (having some extra catnaps Zzz...), please feel free to dig into the archives, especially if you are new around here. I hope and pray you will come away blessed and encouraged by what you read.

I will continue scribbling out my words, and some may even find their way onto my Facebook page in the interim should God inspire and equip me to share them.

Maybe you're in a season of hibernation, sitting out a time when sap will rise again?

Take heart, friend. God isn't finished with you yet. While we have life and breath we are on active service in His kingdom. Age and circumstance are no barrier in His eyes.

One day, it will be your time and your turn and your work will have the audience it deserves. Hang on in hope. Our God is faithful.

God bless you all until we meet again. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Feel free to leave a comment or prayer request here. Love, Joy :) <3

Dying to live

Sap remains in the vine. Life signs are present. Colour and vitality depleted but not gone for good.

As I muse on the waning of plants and summer flowers, the colours of russet and gold midst green-leaved trees, I see myself mirrored in them.

I'm in an autumnal season. Time to let loose, let fall all that is withered and dead within me. 

Prepare for the loosing, shedding, pruning, the dying-back of Winter and its attendant frosts and chills before Spring comes again.

Time to embrace grace, make space for new life to spring up in the place of signs of death.

I'm a walking-wounded one, with a desire to die to those things that are no longer fruitful. And to take hold of all that nurtures, enlivens, and breathes fresh hope into my soul.

So what does it look like? Something like this..

Writing brave, bold and free, but only as God suggests and directs.

Listening with greater intent to His voice, His word, His plans and purposes, my life and body ~ and heed what they're all saying to me.

Dying to selfish ambition.  

Dying to people-approval.

Dying to perfectionism.

(Yes, I know, they will take some time to fade away, never mind die! )

Living to please God first and foremost.

Living in a way that reveals Jesus in me.

Living the best I can with all my flaws, human limitations and imperfections, while God is slowly transforming me from the inside out from one degree of glory to another.

Staying connected to The Vine.

Staying receptive to God's voice.

Staying open to the possibility of change beyond anything I dare to ask, think or imagine.

Trusting that I am enough because Jesus is enough and He lives in and through me.

Trusting that words will flow as they need to from a surrendered mind and heart.

Trusting God to work in and through the works of my hands and bless others in the process.

Letting go of yesterday so that I am ready for the Now and the Still to Come.

Letting these words speak for themselves, just as they are, no overly zealous editing.

Welcoming in a new season of the soul, warming myself in His gaze, being refreshed in His Presence.

And why do all this?

To quote contemplative monk, Bob Holmes in his insightful post, 'Putting the Spirit back into Spiritual Practice':

"We die to ourselves to make it possible to put our spirit first."

For, unless this frail flesh falls to the ground and dies to itself (its own selfish ambition, ways of understanding and living), we will have no seed to sow or harvest to come. It is only as we look to the Lord to give us light, sustenance and daily watering with His word that we begin to come alive on the inside.

Then, as new plants, we can grow tall and strong by His grace. Our leaning on and learning from Him are the means to a changed soul from the inside out.

Will you join me? I hope so. Companions are essential on this journey. Together we are stronger.

Let's keep offering up our lives as a sacrifice of praise to the One who gives us daily breath and grace Here, Now, Today, Always.

Instead of living to die, we could try dying to live ~ more fully and freely than we ever imagined in this life and beyond.

Linking here with Beth and other lovely writer friends for #threewordwednesday  as we seek to encourage you in your journey of life and faith.

You are very welcome and warmly invited to join in.

A new life begins

During this Advent season our thoughts stray toward the mystery, awe and wonder of the Incarnation.

And we remember how Jesus took on our earthly human frame.

In considering what a marvel and miracle it is for God Himself to enter human history, we cannot forget the Son of Man hidden within the babe in a manger.

I'm sharing thoughts on this topic over at my writer friend Rebekah's site today where I have the honour and privilege of guest posting as part of her great series on 'The Spirit of Christmas'.

Here's a snippet:

Nothing else quite stirs our deep protective and nurturing instincts more than a newborn baby.

Such sweet vulnerability resides within.

A simple grasp of tiny fist clinging to adult finger a reminder of how fragile this new life is.

And those feet. Adorable, perfect miniatures of our own. Yet in the months ahead limbs unfurl and grow strong to support a toddler's frame.

As we bend to kiss a brow, wipe tears, give nourishment, witness growth and change before our eyes, do we ever think of Mary, mother of our Lord, as she lovingly tended to her son?

See Him as infant helpless.

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given..."

Hands that flung stars into space reduced to starfish baby span ~ made calloused by carpentry, torn by sharp nails, pinioned to a cross of sorrow and shame.

A mouth that spoke creation into existence now made milky-soft, dependent ~ to become a voice of wisdom, instruction and healing for others.

Feet used to circling the world with silent steps ~ now made...  ~  You can read the rest here ~ 

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