Saying Yes and Saying No

This week I started a study on simplicity. And I began de-cluttering. And I am finishing some writing projects and starting some new ones. And I am putting more on my calendar than I usually place there. Because life is rich and full. Life is complicated and wonderful and simple. There is a place of discerning balance between entering in and holding back. Saying yes, a warm and loud yes, and saying a humble and wise no. 

A no that feels holy and sacred. That restrains in order to give later, to hold back now in order to invest more later. To manage our resources and energy well is to steward the gift, well.

May you and I find refuge and strength to soak in the good, withstand the times of loneliness and pain with grace. And to step into His will with wisdom.

May we be restored by the flames of His fiery love and goodness. And have eyes wide open to notice all His gifts, His sovereignty and sacrifice as we move into the Holidays. The ones where we celebrate all His gifts. May we be mindful daily of the greatest gift, the sacred one of His Holy Birth. Daily, bending the knee, daily bending the ear, bowing at the throne of our Lord. God, the King. God, our Rescuer. God redeemer and lover of our souls.

Amen. With Thanksgiving hearts and praises, words of yes. And whispers, sometimes, of a wise, well-thought-out and discerning no.

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Joining Deidra at her beautiful blog home, Jumping Tandem. Oh how I have missed this community.

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Intimacy

Today I am honored to have a poem of mine appearing at Burnside Writer’s Collective. Thank you for following me and my poetry over there. Follow the bread crumbs, well on second thought, just click this link. The poem is entitled “Intimacy”. May you discover and come to know God in all his magnificent beauty and love, power and strength in new ways. Always. But especially in these days, leading up to Thanksgiving. Counting gifts. The sea and salt, yes they are two of the grandest gifts of all, to me.

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Discover more writing on faith at Burnside Writers dot com.

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Without The Music

Without The Music

Without music
Quiet has no notes to wake her up
From muffled morning’s sleepy headed slumber.
So, instead
She hangs her winsome head,
languishing in her lonely bed.
Hoping that a harp will play, or
maybe a cello will save the day.
Praying a piano quite possibly might
saunter  in,
Or trumpets wake the dead
Say arise, awake
With blasts of wind
instruments, drums and snare,
Replacing thick and quiet air
Violins or soothing flute
The horns will shout forth
an exclamation point.

Breaking the blistering silence of her mind
Hoping a happy stanza
peppered with piccolo will fill the air
But instead the quiet
Lingers, hanging void
The music hidden, lost,
Is nowhere.

Life without a song

Sounds like life
Without a pulse
dull
and fallen
Silence fills the air.
Only black and white
All color gone, no song.
The music must play on.
The strings shall sing, the harmony restore
The runs, the rifts, the ivories,
The keys will sing from lips of fingertips
The music.
Melody and symphony, sharps and flats
Notes from low to high, cascading making merry in the dark
Mirroring or changing the mood within the room
Transforming quiet, into music,
Liquid poetry.

Give me a blessed song that wakes my spirit up.

Turns the sad and lonely mood around
Plays hymns of praise
My anthem raise
No longer will I live my days,
Alone in silence lingering long
Without the sounds of  dancing
On clouds of spirit-thought.
Without
The music
Playing in the chambers,
The rooms of my heart.

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Joining Laura at Laura Boggess dot com for her Playdates at The Wellspring.

Cleaning My Brush

Curled tucked
Fetal position
Rolled
Warm
Like a hot cross bun
Baking in the white down
Oven of my bed
Rest warms me
As I clean my brush, swipe the bristles
To remove the residue
Folded into a two am pose
Snug as a bug in a rug
Soul rest cleans
The brush
So I can wake anew
Mercy
Full
Of grace
To create
White canvas waits
And the uncurling of knees to chest
Legs at rest
Pretzel twists of arms and legs
Springs from the layered nest
Re-creation begins anew.

 

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