Moving toward the light

I'd woken early that day, managed to catch the first tentative rays of incipient dawn breaking into the grey leaden gloom of a winter morn.

My soul was soothed by the sight of sky sighing out its pale-rose beauty.

Marvelling anew at the glory signs, my thoughts tumbled out in these poetic lines:

"Early morn
Earth speaks
with whisper
Dawn of a new day
Soft skies yawn
Make way
for silver streaks
of muted grey"

So far, Winter has wrapped itself round me like a duvet, a smothering, muffling cover. 

It's been an invitation to rest, to sleep, to recover from a month of being flu-filled, bed and housebound, hibernating and waiting for a semblance of life to return to these weary bones.

Though, no matter how weak and worn we may feel, God is always whispering through each day to ears, eyes and heart ready to receive His voice.

In the natural, my own morning-misted eyes see poorly with the softened, blurry, distorted vision of myopia, but my inner spiritual lenses enable me to see life more clearly.

I can see and sense enough to grasp that here lies invitation to embrace new beginnings, a new day, a new season, a new perspective even if only faintly seen and understood. 

Sometimes, we yearn to bring things into brighter focus, at others we are glad to see imperfectly.

Maybe prefer to turn our faces to the wall, hide in the dark, bury ourselves in anything rather than looking with a clear-eyed gaze at all that fills our lives, and all that lies beyond our current state of knowing.

We feel like we can barely handle the minutes before us, never mind hours, days, weeks or months. And who knows what the future may hold?

Life can weigh heavy and tip us sideways. It can be a real effort to remain stable.

I've felt like that lately. Have hardly had the wherewithal to face the day, let alone the next, and so on. Each one bleeding slow into another, seeping away into dark corridors of sickness and pain.

And now? I have been resting beneath the shadow of Abba Father's wings, pausing to be at peace, to receive all the comfort and protection I need from the One whom no foe can withstand. 

Externally, wintry weather persists, but internally I feel like I'm having an early Spring, a surfacing of sorts, a moving toward the light.

Hope is rising. There is (finally!) far more to life than a bed full of soggy tissues, the smell of eucalyptus and menthol permeating the air, painkillers, throat soothers and hot lemon drinks (with honey) at hand.

There is a future to this year beyond influenza. God is healing me, slowly but perceptibly. Some measure of strength and energy is returning ~ hooray!

As I come alive to life again, I have a deep gratitude for being able to breathe easy, to sniff scents other than medicinal ones, to eat with some appetite and without food tasting like cotton-wool, to have a voice that isn't always too croaky to have a conversation, or ears too blocked to hear.

My mind is ready to read a bit more, to begin to think clearly, to focus, prepare for the new things God wants to reveal to me.

Yes, I will still need to rest, pace and pause from too much interaction or busyness of mind and body to avoid relapsing. That's a given for someone with M.E and chronic illness. 

I won't stop learning more about being thankful, recording the positive in the midst of adversity, seeing God's hand at work in the everyday minutiae and being grateful for small mercies.

Because they are always there. We don't always need to put glasses on or contact lenses in to see them. He finds a way to make things clear when we look to Him and ask Him to make our hearts tender and receptive.

Dependency and weakness may feel challenging to our independent souls, whereas they can become the very vehicles God uses to reveal His goodness and grace to us most of all, an opening to deeper knowing.

"My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness" ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9 (The Message) 

Over to you

How has God manifested His grace and strength to you recently?
Have you been able to see God's hand at work in your trials and tribulations?

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.

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**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. 

Let the flame burn

She was on a mission. Nothing was going to stop her.

Chin lifted high, head in the clouds, determination in every step, pounding the pavement with purpose.

On the cusp of full womanhood, her heart glowed fierce for the lover of her soul.

Scorning fear, she burned with a message to share. Tasting mercy and Love Divine for the first time ~ how could she help but speak about it?

Eyes bright with intent, she breezed her way into clubs and pubs, high school platform, public places, missions.

She was oblivious to hostile stares or rejection, swishing it away like the dress-folds dancing around her boots.

Here hope blazed bold.

Here lay a mind illuminated by Truth and a soul set on fire for God.

And now?

I marvel at her unself-consciousness, her courage, faith and fortitude.

My younger self ~ so secure in the fact she was loved and accepted by her Lord and Saviour ~ braving the boundaries of her time and situation.

All of this came before the catastrophic crash of a mind splintered by a mental health breakdown, until God helped her to slowly pick up and put together each shattered piece.

Before shame, guilt and fear haunted her days and nights.

Before the pressure and stress of life loomed large.

Before the Divine flame within flickered low almost to extinction.

Prior to pain pervading and pulverising her frame.

Before being bound by weakness, sickness and infirmity.

She walked strong. Kept the faith. Yielded all. 

I barely recognise the young woman I used to be. A pang of regret and envy stirs deep.

I yearn for change. I desire for God to light a fire in me again. Let this flicker become a steady flame to warm other hearts and speak of His great love for me.

Maybe you do too?

We can all fall away in word, deed or thought. Give up seeking, asking, hoping, believing.

And now? I long to experience all that God has in mind for me right here, right now. In this Autumnal season of my life let there be a bonfire of all that holds me back. 

God gives us special grace as new believers to walk close and sense His Presence, to have joy in believing and knowing we are saved.

We're on fire and it shows in our faces, behaviour and speech.

Then life intervenes... we falter, become neglectful and forgetful, doubts spring up; our flame becomes a mere spark.

We try to keep going in our own strength instead of relying on His.

But as long as there is even a hint, a faint glimmer of hope, and faith and trust in Him, God ignites the fire again. A smouldering wick He will not quench.

Will you join me in asking Him to ignite a fire again?

'A prayer for change'

Lord of earth, sky and sea

would You ignite a fire in me?

As your Word beams laser-bright

into all-encompassing darkness, to reveal

a shining Light of Truth and purity,

so may I, in my small corner obscurity

be a glint and glimmer to all in sight

of Your great love, mercy, grace and light.

Whether by the words I write or speak

the acts I do throughout the week

all should tell of a burning love for You

that is consistent, deep and true.

And even if I am tired or sick

and my light is a wavering candlewick

I know that when the time is ready

You will make it flame strong and steady

to be a source of warmth to encourage another

weak and struggling sister or brother.

For I don't want to sleep-walk through my days

but I do want to bathe in Your heavenly rays

and to be consumed in all I say or do

by what consumes You

Amen

©JoyLenton2014

Here's a blast from the past for you ~ The group Parchment singing 'Light up the Fire'. I was privileged to see them perform this live at SPREE {Spiritual Re-Emphasis} Conference just after I became a Christian. I hope you enjoy it too!

A few soul-enhancing, inspiring and firing-up reads to dip into:

'If we could have coffee ~ 30 Days of Heart to Heart Encouragement' by Holley Gerth

'Holiness, Truth and the Presence of God' by Francis Frangipane

'Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening' by Cynthia Borgeault

'Walking on Water ~ Reflections on Faith and Art' by Madeleine L'Engle

********

I always find time spent in God's word and in His Presence, plus Christian books and music help fan the flame within.

I'd love you to share what helps to keep the flame alive in your spirit too

Linking here with Nacole for #concretewords where we write out the abstract with a concrete word prompt. This week's prompt is:'Fire'. 

And with Lyli  for #ThoughtProvokingThursday



     





And with Mel for #EssentialFridays

You are warmly encouraged and invited to join in.

Surrendering

She slid softly into an empty seat, barely raising her head or risking a glance around her.

Trying to look invisible while wanting to be noticed.

Eyes gradually roamed surroundings clinical yet suggestive of homely warmth. 

Here a comfortable chair, there a magazine, walls decorated with gentle art work to please the senses, floor carpeted.

Yet the scurrying, uniformed figures, cold steel trolleys, slabs of notes, trays holding equipment for testing ~ all betrayed the fact that this was actually a hospital waiting area.

We were captive to clock and schedules, time and tide of their convenience, malleable only to moulds of their design, clients of their care, patients feeling anything but patient.

Brief nods and smiles were exchanged before confession followed. First time? Me too. Waited how long? Oh dear!

What to do. Would there be time to drink a sip or two of water, open the Kindle and lose oneself in a book, check our phones (ignoring the 'switch off please' signs), rummage in bags, sigh, dream, chat, or....simply yield to the moment.

So we sat as statues. Brief shuffling, turning of heads to scan notices, gaze at our feet, read notices for the umpteenth time, whispered conversation, eyes glued to every individual who might be here to summon us into the depths.

How does one yield gracefully when senses are heightened to alert and alarm? How do we savour the moment when anxiety is high, pain presses in hard and minds are switched to numbness? 

I found myself focusing on a painting. Golden yellow rays spilling as fountain reminding me of the sunshine of God's love and how His grace spills and fills every corner of our lives.

My desire is to bask in its warmth. Seek energy and strength for what might lay ahead.

As I visualised those rays washing over me, peace came. I could hold conversation. Act normal. And maybe that's all God asks of us. To let Him in to everything and realise He's already there.

Abiding. Clinging to The Vine. Accepting where we are on the way to where we're going. 

Release and find rest. Sink trustful. Know we are safe. Kept. Held. Anchored.

I wondered how pliable I was. This woman who wakes stiff, limbs resistant to movement.

Would my soul yield soft as clay to The Master Potter's touch on my life ~ be it unpalatable or not? 

How willing am I to receive, accept and surrender to the thought that all things are allowed by Him ~ even This?

In the bowing down we look up to God's higher authority, His all knowing, all seeing, all encompassing ways. 

And it is a willing, meaningful yielding. Acknowledgement of His sovereignty.

My eyes shift again to view images of coffee cups and beach huts. Here too we see goodness and grace. Lift our cup of sorrow and joy and swallow down. Know it is as endless as the sea. This balance of beauty in ashes. Shelter from storms.

Voices sounding nearby call me out of my reverie. My name. My turn. My assessment and tests begin. 

Groping for my stuff, struggling to prepare and follow, I smile and wish my fellow newbie well. 

Here I surrender dignity and privacy. Ready myself to be investigated and questioned.

A faint shadow of the Son of Man before the cross stirs in my mind. I see Jesus stripped of all dignity. Giving out. A handing over. Great surrender. Yielding to the Father's will.

Such love. Such grace. Such mercy.

His pain had a glorious purpose. Maybe yours and mine has too, though we can fail to see it. 

A life given up so freely by the Lord of Life, yet I so often cling to my life, time, needs, plans, schedules ~ wary of change and interruption. 

Boxed in by my boundaries when a life of freedom beckons if...I hang loose to the things of this world, this life, and hold fast to the eternal and unchanging promises of God.

A chair wheels me onwards down long corridors. Weary beyond words, I have X-rays, blood tests and help to dress. Yield to those stronger than I. Muse at how I was once the one offering assistance. A nurse clocking up miles a day as I strode purposefully down corridors, tending, supporting, lifting body and spirit by my ministrations.

Now, I sit passive as my husband and others join forces to prepare me for what needs doing. Made to lie low. With hope of being renewed, restored, reshaped as clay into a vessel fit for purpose again, even as God uses me for different things now...praying, writing, listening, being there. 

We make it home and I need sustenance. Bacon sandwich and a cup of tea feel like a taste of heaven. And I rest. Allow peace and grace to fill me anew. Sit quiet for a while away from bright lights and activity. 

Maybe the pain will never end in this lifetime. Maybe incapacity will increase. I don't know. The One who gives grace upon grace to cope knows that.

What I do know is His great capacity in all my incapacities.

How I wish I had another tale to tell and story to share sometimes than the one I am living.

Yet through it all I can bear witness to the tremendous sustaining power of God. Whatever I have given over to Him has been more then repaid, multiplied grace on grace at His hands.

And as I try to follow this path of daily (if not hourly) surrender, my hope is for His Story to be revealed through my own.

I want to yield to Holy Spirit's work in me. I want to see purpose in pain, liberty in a limited life. Being hard, brittle, bitter and resentful is a path I refuse to take.

It all comes down to whom or what we yield to, issues of acceptance, dependence, love and trust.

I want to be able to let go (if need be) of those things I value higher than I should ~ my will, my ways, reputation, comfort, capacity and dreams.

Because in the releasing of all I have considered better, I know my cup will be filled to overflowing with God's best as my will becomes conformed more closely with His.

Let me be soft, workable clay to be fashioned as He chooses. Let me be pliable and flexible. Let me be willing to yield ~ always. Amen. 

Linking here with the lovely Nacole for #concretewords where we write out spirit with a concrete word prompt. This week's prompt is:'Yield'

And with Jennifer at #TellHisStory where we encourage one another by sharing the story God is writing through our lives.

Also linking to Word Filled Wednesday  where women connect to support and build one another up in Christ.

You are very welcome and warmly invited to join in.