In the crucible

My frustration reaches fever pitch,
I’m stuck in a rut, nowhere to turn
doors shut in my face,
I’m out of the race
can’t chase my way back in.

Nothing gets started.
Like and engine in the cold
that gave up the ghost
when the spark didn’t catch.

Yet there is plenty inside me,
bubbling away.

The lid is on the pot, but I’m still hot,
gathering heat,
as my core is refined, purity revealed,
I simmer until the time is right, the secret place unsealed.

There is more. SO MUCH MORE –
as my heart lets out the roar of vision and excitement –

Like a Tardis on the inside,
are my dreams, and deepest longings –
bigger than could be guessed at from without,

Yet my heart is being challenged
to remain, to be at peace,
to trust that things are happening –
that the cogs are being greased

So that when the moment comes
and this lid is lifted free,
what explodes out from my inner world
will be smooth and clear to see.

In this process of refining
He is burning off the dross,
and His faithfulness is evident,
this time is not my loss,

My path will have been levelled,
from the treacherous terrain,
and my progress won’t be hampered by
my brokenness and pain,

And He’ll use me for His glory,
so that many will acclaim
the tenderness of His love,
The greatness of His name.

As we walk this great adventure
and my dreams become reality,
the TRUTH of Him shall set men free
as His love resounds in me.

But, until I can be trusted
not to claim His glory as my own,
I’ll walk out my daily tasks
allowing grace to fill my home,
and these passions held within my heart
continue gaining strength –

for the One who made them
made me,
And at the right time –

will release me.


Five Minute Friday – HOLD.

filtered-through-fingers-of-love**Five Minute Friday is an initiative set up by Lisa-Jo Baker over at Surprised by Motherhood. It has now been taken over by Kate over at Heading Home. The basic premise is to take the word Kate gives and write, non-stop for 5 minutes. Then you stop and post. Read more about it here.
My friend Claire at Life With Open Arms has been writing these for a while,on and off, and today I thought that I would give it a go.**

The prompt word is HOLD.

“This you know, my beloved brethren. But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger; for the anger of man does not achieve the righteousness of God.”  James 1:19-20


So, today I have had to realise that my temper and frustrations need to be put on hold, when my daughter shouts my name out for what seems like the millionth time, and I am trying desperately to nap.
She should be napping too. Or at least playing quietly. As should her little brother in the same room.

Instead, despite me asking her to go back to bed and stop yelling as –
she hasn’t pooed; No, I don’t know where Reverend Timms is (her little doll that looks just like the Rev from  the old school Postman Pat); and no she can’t ‘sleep’ in my bed, because we all know how that is going to go –
she keeps going, shouting at the top of her voice, pausing briefly whilst I wait to see if she will stop, before resuming several decibels louder.

My temper sadly didn’t hold, and I barked back at her pretty loudly and very crossly.
I was feeling desperate.
But she cried.
Normally I have more patience. Today I didn’t, and yet I was reminded of how much patience God has with us. With me.
I am human. But I need to let his love and patience flow in me more, and today I didn’t.
Not my proudest parenting moment.

I did however apologise to her, explain why she needed to allow me the space to myself during nap/quiet time. And then I held her. Close.

She is who I should hold. And my son. And who I should hold my temper for.
They are my precious gifts, given for me to love.
And I need to let God hold me in the tense moments.

Because everything is always better when we are being held close.

Isaiah 49 pic diffused


Autumn parties and other seasonal delights

imageWhen my husband and I were in our first year of marriage, we became hooked on the series The Gilmore Girls, and much to the amusement of many of our friends, couldn’t stop talking about it.
I think that one of the things which drew us to buy the entire series, aside from the great plots and witty repartee, was the sheer delight and exuberance with which the main characters, and their little town, celebrated anything and everything to do with their community and the shifting seasons.
There was the ‘midsummer madness’ festival, the ‘save the bridge, knit-a-thon’, the ‘someone in our town has died, so let’s turn his beautiful old house into a temporary museum’ initiative, and our favourites – the Christmas and Autumn decorations throughout the town.

There is someDSC00725thing about the shifting of the seasons which always excites me. It has to do with the smell in the air, pregnant with the promise of new beginnings, new hope. The sense that something exciting is waiting just around the corner and I am on the edge of breaking through.

I have always been like this, simultaneously wrestling with change, and inviting a shift into the unknown – desiring the growth that offers to move me forward.

Autumn is no different.
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