Journeying:Where it All Starts

Every life begins with a journey. As tiny infants we have to make our way into the world to truly commence on this adventure. It is taken as we traverse the birth canal, or maybe enter the world via a Cesarean Section.

The wonder of our time in the womb is a continual marvel that we are privy to in some small measure with intrauterine images.

Though nothing fully prepares us for the moment of arrival as we await the birth of our infants. Each one unique and special.

That time period of 40 weeks (more or less) is a miracle of Divine knowledge, planning and foresight.

God knows the secret place where conception takes place and the child develops. He is with us even as we flex and grow away from public view or scrutiny.

For those few weeks of our lives we literally live, move and have our being in Him as well as in our mother's womb.

I wonder what secrets we might have whispered to us by Holy Spirit's life-giving breath?

Sadly, I can only speculate. But I am sure we are welcomed, affirmed and celebrated even before we draw breath in the world outside this maternal home.

There is a secret that I've had to sit on for a few (excruciating) weeks when I longed to shout it from the rooftops:

We are on the way to becoming grandparents at the end of this year!

And I'm so excited I want to tell all.

So here is the news - leaked out publically now with permission from my youngest son (phew!) - and here is the poem that it inspired:

'Little One'

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb..my frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.." ~ Psalm 139:13 - 16

Little one,

barely grape-sized 
foetal-curved comma

nestling in your warm and watery cave,

I want you to know

how precious you are

to this family

and most of all to the One

who gave you spark of life

His the arms

now cradling you safe

as you stretch and grow

from tiny speck to tiny infant

His the voice

soothing with lullaby

of peace and rest

to your soul in slumber

All that you are

and all that you will be,

all the days yet ahead

span out like your starfish fingers

eagerly embracing the future

Take hold, sweet child,

take hold of His hand

and grip tight

Those are hands of love,

offering, rejoicing over you

with singing, an endless refrain

caressing with His grace

Rest there safe

until time is ripe

for your grand arrival,

when we too will

cradle, love and soothe

your tiny frame

©JoyLenton2013

"All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" ~ Psalm 139:16

This is part of a new series on journeying. I've written before about my God-sized dream journey and more aspects of life's journey will follow in time to come.

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Being Framed

Sometimes there is a song needing to be sung, a word waiting to be heard, or a poem pressing to be penned.

Today is one of those days.

My offering is a poetic lament in support of M.E. Awareness Week (May 6th - 12th) and the way people with this condition are often perceived.  You can click on the link to find out more about it.

Being Framed

I've been framed, boxed, categorised,

sifted, found wanting in society's eyes.

I'm not the woman they think they see,

but an inner person that's really me.

Viewing the image the mirror provides

if I dare to risk, turning away with sighs;

decades of illness have left their mark

and it's hard to bear living in shaded dark.

My eyes need rest I urgently seek,

the brain is foggy, body made weak.

Pain and deformity cripple the frame

and it's hard to remember inside I'm the same.

A woman with dreams and a heart to express

all that's buried within, though under duress.

I want to be seen as I feel inside

but external appearance can cause me to hide.

Days without number I face my fears

that grow as hard to scale as our home stairs,

that this won't go away and I might not be healed

that the inner joy may be forever concealed.

For it's hard to stay cheerful, harder still to be bright

in a world that pushes us out of sight.

We're the invisible people, out of the game

our only identity is pain and shame.

Huge in number, if weak of voice,

the nameless ones who cannot rejoice

until labels and badges no longer apply

and we don't have to keep asking you, “Why?”

Why not believe us, why not accept

this could happen to you, being sick, life wrecked.

Your body a tomb for a spirit that's chained,

a livelihood lost, prison sentence gained.

Eyes that accuse, hearts that are hard

do nothing but continue marking our card.

Treated with scorn, hostility, derision

our whole future residing on whim of decision.

Fear haunts our days and disturbs our nights,

energy drained further to keep fighting our rights.

Please, won't you listen and heed the weak

as you hear our stories of the justice we seek?

Please remember we are people too,

not numbers, statistics, a warped world view.

Lives are at stake as bodies fail,

strong in intent, though our hearts quail.

Life in the Slow Lane can be no life at all

when it grinds to a halt against a brick wall.

If you know someone who has M.E,

please help them and tell them you see;

you witness their pain, you understand the need

and you won't turn away, you will pay heed.

All we ask is for people to see who we are,

recognising this disease will take us far

into a future where compassion can reign

instead of resentment, sadness and shame.

©JoyLenton2013

"Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him and he will bring justice to the nations. He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; he will not falter or be discouraged until he establishes justice on earth. In his law the islands will put their hope." ~ Isaiah 42:1 - 4

 Linking here with Nacole at sixinthesticks for concrete words, where we seek to express the abstract by means of a concrete word prompt. Todays is:The Frame. You are very welcome to join in.

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Shades of purple

Life is rarely all (or even 50)shades of grey. We have a rich palette of experiences that colour our world with light, delicate hues or vivid shades that stain deep.

Purple is one of my favourite colours and it happens to be the one used to symbolise Fibromyalgia too.

For those with Fibromyalgia their world is pierced dark with unrelenting pain.

As an M.E/CFS sufferer I also have accompanying Fibromyalgia, (you can click here to find out what it is) which is sadly an all too common addition to our already depleting and debilitating symptoms.

It is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day in the UK on May 12th and this poem is written to honour the occasion.

Shades of Purple

Ringed black and blue

visible wounding

heavy bruised stain

seeping into skin

with tender throb of pain.

But you wound internal

pulsating deep

Fibro' fingers

prodding, poking, pain

that always lingers.

Morning stiff

to greet the dawn

making body stumble

movement slow

with risk of tumble.

Purple prose

swallowed down

as limbs grind painful

muscles sore, gait unsteady,

awkward, shameful.

Echoes of dark

bleeding out of day

escorting in the night

with sleep-elusive sigh

as body seizes tight.

Purple-coloured robes

draping royal and holy
  mantle of love

covering aches and pains

with grace from above.

Shades of purple

tinged with layers of faith,

bringing strength and healing

as God's heavenly light

shines with Hope revealing.
©JoyLenton2013

No matter how sick we may be there is always hope for improvement and healing.

Until that happens, we support and encourage one another as best we can.

A Prayer

Father, we struggle at times to endure
 hardship and pain that has no cure.

We long so much for it all to end,
  for relief to come, as we stoop and bend.

Grant us grace and strength to persevere,
continuing to know that You are so near
a simple heart's cry is already heard
even if we do not utter a word.
In the darkest nights we fail to rest
and have many days when we're far from our best.
Weakness and weariness play their part 
in bringing discouragement to make us lose heart.
Lift and encourage us when we feel sad 
during those moments when pain's really bad.
For you are the One who we turn to in need
and You help to heal and make all pain recede.
Thank you.
Amen.

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May God bless and give you His peace until we meet again.

Addicted to Comfort

Welcome to another foray into free-fall, free-flowing, straight from the heart, as-it-comes writing with Five Minute Friday.

Today's prompt is:'Comfort'

Start...

Comfort

We are addicted to comfort

security and safety hardwired into our systems

ease a priority

sought with urgency.

Solace-seeking in bottles, pills and potions

soothing fragrant oils and lotions.

We are addicted to comfort

loving our tribe

the ones we feel

comfortable with

our inner circles so tight

they are barriers to entry.

We are addicted to comfort

church has cliques

newcomers meet and greet

smiles exchanged

then we spend time

in the company of the familiar.

We are addicted to comfort

wanting life smooth, no rocks

no hard pathways to travel

or pain to endure.

We are addicted to comfort

feeling safe, secure 

in what we know

how we live

who we are.

Until...

God rocks our little boat

right out the water

tips us upside down

alters our worldview.

We are addicted to comfort

but it's not about us at all.

It's about leaning into Him,

learning, stretching, growing,

giving and pouring out

lives surrendered, given over;

abiding in the Vine

allowing Him to nourish, strengthen,

enable, equip,

freely received grace freely given

to the uncomfortable ones

who live with hope, expectancy

of seeing change

only God can bring.

Stop.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God" ~ 2 Corinthians 1:3 - 4

Linking here with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday. Do hop over and join in. You're very welcome!

To stay in touch you can subscribe by e-mail, follow on Twitter or like my Facebook page

On the Road

A road can be as long or short as our perspective of it.

Stretching on endlessly for miles or running out of path to tread before we know it.

Outside our home, the road was adjunct to playing space as we pushed prams full of dolls jostling within, roller-skated, hopscotched, twirled hoola-hoops, kicked, threw and caught a ball, hopped, skipped and jumped our way through childhood.

Only roads are potential death traps. I diced close once. Didn't know when to stop and look around me

Dashing behind ice-cream van, frozen spearmint lolly sticky-glued to hand, lip licking in anticipation, eyes peeled on the path ahead but forgetting my "look left, right, then left again, cross safely" mantra...a screech of brakes, scream, shout...body inert, curled up corpse-like into the kerb, blue-tinged lips, still and silent.

Father watching motor racing on TV could feel a heart-lurch recognition of danger, squeal of tires, noise, beyond the confines of the living room. He scooped me up from the gutter..pebble-dashed with gravel, blue lights and siren hovering into view. I remember nothing of that.

Only light searing eyes too sensitive to bear. Screams from my own throat as a cold-fingered, cold-hearted nurse bent to inject me. Drifting away for a while..

My looseness saved me as I fell to the ground. Innate ability to sit heavy on lap, snuggle in close for comfort craved so much. Collapsing sack-like kept me from cracking. No bones broken. Only concussion and badly grazed, scraped torn skin that wept yellow into bandage.

Bruised pride. Clumsy old me. All of six years old. Tears leaking afresh at the sight of torn dress, ruined beyond repair.

*********

On another road...

Father at the wheel of a lurching truck that swayed and swooped along the highway. 

We sat in designated seats. Toss of coin for squabbling sisters.

I won the front row. She was assigned mid-stalls on the rickety orange-box crates that covered and cushioned served as space to squat. Illegal really. Under-age. Unsafe.

But he was under-the-thumb with mum, who wanted us out-of-her hair, out of sight, out of mind. So we roamed the warehouse as he stacked and packed. Forty miles to the first port of call.

We sat. Me gloating smugly, she grumbling sisterly. Nearly where we needed to be when the sky fell in, or at least the window did. 

Sudden smash...shiny shards of glass collecting in my lap, splintered dust-size fragments coating everything and everyone, though I caught the brunt of it.

 

A road stabbing painful, red-blooded, broken. Father found a way to bring healing

A local cafe. Familiar faces. Regular watering-hole for him. 

We were clucked over, embraced gingerly, checked, cleaned, Savlon smeared, plastered up where necessary. Only tiny slivers. Don't worry. No real damage done.

It doesn't take much to splinter a life - a road can end as abruptly as it began

Memories: of warmth, care, soft drinks, sausage, eggs, bean and chips to comfort us, other children (her own), TV, outside play space, getting weary with waiting for the truck to trundle by and take us home.

Safe in Father's arms as we journey home

********

Roads can be dangerous places. Not all lead to Rome, romance, riches or restful lives

Travelling smooth until catastrophe strikes, chaos comes, circumstances collide.

Skies are stormy yet light still lingers in the distance, giving us hope of seeing change.

In taking the Road Less Travelled we experience problems, pain and hardship.

Accidents can derail us. Calamities come and we fall by wayside.

It's not a scenic route unless we learn to stop and enjoy the views.

The road ahead may be long, arduous and hard to climb, taking all our breath.

It narrows and constricts our fleshly desires then opens into a glorious vista of freedom.

The more we seek the Light, the more we see the way ahead.

Better to be on it than wayside dwellers, ease and comfort seekers who delve shallow and come up empty.

Better to seek His shelter than hide ourselves in gutter living.

In surrendering all to God we have a constant Companion on our journey.

Outpoured blood marks the path. Outpoured grace lights the way. Outpoured life leads us Home safe at last.

********

Linking here (later than intended due to laptop failure) with the lovely Nacole at sixinthesticks for Concrete Words. It's where we seek to write out the abstract with a concrete word prompt. This week's was 'The Road'. Do hop over and read the great posts there and add your own. 

                                                                                                        

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Have a heart

There are times in our lives when God speaks more insistently to our hearts than usual.

Those Holy Spirit whispers are words we need to pay attention to.

Our heart, as defined in Scripture, represents the core, essence of our being, the fabric of who we are and how we act, seat of our reason, courage, innermost feelings.

Recently, God has been showing me things about myself I would have preferred not to be aware of.

It all started with a devotional book I was reading that spoke of asking God to show us a picture of our heart.

This wasn't asking for an anatomical representation of the fist-shaped, blood-pumping organ that lies roughly in the centre of our chest.

No. It was seeking greater knowledge about what makes us tick, how we act and react and what that indicates about our inner being.

So, I braved the request, "Lord, please show me a picture of my heart"...and He did.

ImageCourtesyofFreeDigitalPhotos.Net

What He revealed was an image of a crushed, fragile, papery heart.

As I prayed, God showed me that this image represented the fragility of my feelings, how easily bruised and wounded I can be if I allow certain emotions to hold sway.

Discouragement reign supreme. Disappointment rule. Despair ravage my hopes and dreams.

" Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life" ~ Proverbs 4:23

His desire is for my heart to be crushed only with empathy and love for others, a willingness to burden-bear and intercede as His Spirit leads.

If I allow God to have my heart, He will guard it, make it strong and viable, rather than fragile and friable, soft and tender where it needs to be, as I open myself up to be a channel of blessing for others.

Our God does heart surgery as He transplants new hearts for old.

I was aware of the see-saw nature of my emotions and found much to blame them on:M.E fatigue, pain, lack of restful sleep, hormones, various issues etc.

God helped me see that a root of insecurity remains - the same root that made me want to control myself and my environment when all went haywire in my past.

All went haywire with my blogging yesterday too as I attempted to copy my last published post (ironically entitled 'Brave') into a folder and somehow ended up deleting the original as I updated it.

Don't ask me how. Technology and I are barely on speaking terms at the moment - more like screaming (me) and silence (laptop).

Deep breaths... Deep breaths....Gasp...Deep breaths.

What did this teach me?

• Back everything up, back everything up, back Everything up!!
• It doesn't help in the slightest to **@~##{{<< @ ~~ at the laptop (OK, just a little bit), keep pressing buttons and watch it all crash.
• It does help to...take deep breaths, step away from it, make a soothing cup of chamomile tea (or a stiff drink) and (most importantly) ask for help from Someone. Who. Knows. What. To. Do.
• When I'm, squeezed (pressed, stressed and tired)I fail to give off the aroma of Christ, emitting instead a bad stink of thoughts, words and deeds.
• We don't have to actively seek discouragement, disappointment or despair. They hang around waiting to drop on us and sabotage our days as soon as we drop our guards.

It also pays to remember that we are more than the sum of our parts or the efforts of our hands (said through gritted teeth and clenched jaw).

Neither is it really about tangible evidence in front of us or how congenial or otherwise our circumstances might be.

God's word reminds us that He is our Security. Safe place. Anchor for the soul. Always.

Sometimes it's hard to remember that in a world caving in and falling apart.

Sometimes it takes a glimpse into another person's pain to see how it overshadows your own.

Sometimes we lose what we value to gain a greater good.

My heart was setting too much store on achievement, approval, being visible when I feel invisible in this tiny sphere I move within.

But never invisible to God. 

The One who desires our highest good stands scalpel at the ready to carve away the dross we can do without and sculpt a heart fit for purpose.

God can take away a hard, stony heart and replace it with a tender, loving one..little by little..as it is surrendered to Him.

"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" ~ Ezekiel 36:26

A Prayer

Dear Father,

You alone know us inside out. Nothing about us surprises You.

It is easy to fool ourselves that everything is as it should be,

until You point a finger on the areas we need to pay attention to.

Then we wriggle and squirm under Your searchlight scrutiny.

For our souls lean more naturally into darkness than light.

But Yours is a laser-light to burn off the dross 
and promote healing.

You desire truth in the inner parts of our being.

You desire to change all that is displeasing to You.

Help us to co-operate and allow You to have Your way in us.

Melt our hard hearts.

Bind up the bruised and broken ones.

Wrap arms of love around the wounded ones.

Pour out Your grace and compassion.

Fill us with Your Spirit so that we can give out to others.

Remind us day by day how we are being changed from glory to glory

so that we do not lose heart if progress seems slow.

Thank you for the new heart and new life we have in Christ.

Help us to use it to live well for You.

Amen

Linking here with Tania Vaughan for Monday Ministry, where we seek to bring Sunday words and thoughts into the rest of the week.

To stay in touch you can join with me on Google Friend Connect, follow on Twitter or like my Facebook page.

May you be blessed with God's light, grace and peace (and a co-operative, fully functioning PC) until we meet again.

Savour the moment

Life is meant to be savoured and enjoyed. 

Sometimes we rush through it so quickly, we fail to stop and smell the roses - or any other flower for that matter.

Most of us are so adept at multi-tasking it has become second-nature, an intrinsic part of our way of being.

Even if we are constrained by health problems or other restrictions, it is all too easy to fail to be fully present in the moment.

I thought multi-tasking was beyond me as an M.E and chronic illness sufferer, but I was wrong. 

Having just committed to a 30 day challenge to be "intentional about being fully present, tackling one task alone, wherever you are", I was brought face to face with my failure to do just that.

Margaret Feinberg offered an opportunity to join a "crazypants challenge" during which she asks, "Could it be possible that focussing on one task at a time makes life better and more enjoyable?" 

The main motivation is to "make more space for meaningful relationships, including our relationship with God".

Even if I live a pretty inactive life by most standards, it turns out that I still multi-task. 

Here's how:

• Eating breakfast while scanning my phone, texting, tweeting, reading.
• Drinking coffee/tea as I try to read the papers, check the phone (again), whilst maintaining a pretence of conversing with my beloved and helping him with the daily crossword puzzle.
• Reading erm...up the table or watching TV while eating lunch.
• Using the laptop with various 'windows' open at once so I can flit with ease between e-mails, writing, blogging, reading blogs, commenting, Twitter, Facebook, internet browsing.
• Resting in bed while reading, checking my mobile phone when it beeps, finding body and mind hard to relax..surprise, surprise.
• Eating dinner and making conversation with my husband, sometimes with the PC on in the background and often with TV audible from the living room.
• Watching TV as I talk through the programmes (bad habit) maybe glance at/read a book, have a drink/snack, chat to my Other Half, browse social media etc...
• Go to bed and read, pray, write a bit, try to sleep, jot down precious thoughts, poetry and insights so I don't forget them, pray, count sheep...say "Goodnight" to my beloved, listen to his snoring, count sheep, Zzzzz....

You get the picture.

I'm not proud of my inattention. It can't be helping me to function well.

Part of the problem may actually be due to having a chronic illness and needing to rest up a lot through the day. My 'wakeful' periods tend to become filled with a quiet desperation to make the most of them. Though this way of carrying on probably isn't it.

Having a butterfly mind that flits hither and thither is a distinct disadvantage (and energy drainer) to an already fatigued, foggy, fretful, forgetful brain.

So you can see why I really need to do this challenge!

We can easily tune out God's voice, but if that persists He may be forced to take more drastic measures at times to regain our attention.

"We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world" ~ C.S. Lewis 'The Problem of Pain'

In an attempt to really concentrate on one task, I asked God to speak to me through His word as I was reading Psalm 147. Quietening myself before Him seems to work well as I start the day but there is a tendency to forget to reconnect with Him as the day progresses.

As I read and re-read the passage, verse 18 seemed to leap out at me:

"He sends his word and melts them; he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow"

He sends his word..God takes the initiative. He begins the process whereby we hear from Him.

and melts them..Our hard hearts are melted. The icy veil we pull over our hurt feelings becomes a soft puddle. Frozen emotions are thawed as we respond to His love.

he stirs up his breezes..Again, the activity is first and foremost from God. The wind of the Holy Spirit is in the air, scent of new life to invigorate and cleanse out the old. Spring arrives and change occurs with an awareness of the gentle rustling sigh of His Presence.

and the waters flow..Our tears may fall. There is an unimpeded flow as stagnant waters now flow freely. Dank pools of resentment and unforgiveness are cleared. A refreshing rain, cleansing and watering anointing for dry souls that thirst for a touch of grace to baptise us.

Those few minutes of undivided attentiveness yielded great abundance.

If I'd simply read once, scanned briefly then moved on, I would have missed so much more that God was willing to teach me.

How many more precious moments of insight could come from being fully present?

How many more conversations would be deep, rich and meaningful rather than lead to confusion and misunderstanding simply because I fail to listen properly?

How much of life's enjoyment escapes eyes that skim the surface?

Sadly, far too much.

So, I am going to have a go, to try to do one thing well instead of several things badly, to give people due consideration, to give life due attention and - most important of all - give God the time and focus He deserves.

As His One Word for me this year is, "Come" then I am signally failing to heed it if I prioritise other people and things or only pay Him scant attention when I do.

I may not succeed every day. 

I won't be able to record every attempt.

But I want to zoom in, get up close, really see the things that are there, notice what's around me, be awed, amazed and..yes..Wonderstruck anew at God's goodness and grace.

What would it be like to glide with swan-like serenity through the choppy waters of adversity, with eyes calmly fixed on the route ahead?

Far better, I expect, than duck-dabbling with furious, flustered paddling going on beneath the waves.

Perhaps this 30 day challenge will enable me to live with the peace of trusting God for each moment, this moment only, then the next, and so on..

Will you join me? Uni-taskers unite!

You don't have to take part for 30 days, but if you do then you and I are giving ourselves enough time to form new habits that may transform our lives.

Our friends and loved ones will benefit and so will we.

Let's try to savour the moment...starting now.

To keep track of this challenge, my God-sized dream journey and other posts you can join with Google Friend Connect, sign up for e-mail notifications or by liking my Facebook page.