Thursday, January 12, 2017

We want rock, you give us water

We want unbreakable, unshakeable rock;
You give us shimmering, glimmering water.
We want unmoving, hard-edged truth;
You give us ungraspable, moving fluid.
We want monuments which time cannot erode;
You give us dynamic, ephemeral streams.
We want solid, systematic structures;
You give us dancing brooks which gurgle and bubble.
We want right and wrong, black and white;
You give us journeys and relationships, meandering and flowing.
We want to cut stones and construct;
You want us to dive in and go.
The rock we want cannot feed us or sustain us.
It is the dust from which we ourselves are made.
But you give us living water which revives, restores
And when we enter its flow, carries us home.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Weaving


Weaving

As the Word is woven in the womb,
A tiny bone warp
On which flesh is knitted;
A fragile form where hope is homed in flesh,
Fears forgotten as a new day dawns,
This child is born into the world.



Many will say with boldness,
With confidence coming from cast iron truth
That unmistakably,
Unquestionably,
He meant this.



But this child grew to be a man,
Not a message.
A lover, a sharer,
Laughter flowing like living water.
Food fondly shared.
Time gladly given.
Relational grace never reducible
to a soundbite shouted with surety.
His questions,
Invitation to inhabit and be,
Infiltrate the quiet corners of our existence.
He sits in the empty chair
And welcomes us home.



And now, I sit at the loom.
Let laughter and love be my threads,
Grace and peace pattern
The fragile fabric I form.
Let this cloth clothe the naked.
Let it be a Tablecloth Spread for my foes.
Let it be a blanket offered to
The rejected, the neglected.
Let it be the shroud that carries me home.


Sunday, December 21, 2014

These Arms

A poem for Christmas, or maybe Easter...



At first glance,
Those arms outstretched
Seem to be pushing away.
Arms that distance,
Arms that reject
Arms that aren’t open to me.
And yet,
When I look more,
These arms restore.
These arms draw close.
These arms have held and been held.
These arms, once small, clung straw
and held a mother’s breast.
These arms, made flesh,
Which once wove worlds together,
Are now outstretched
A cruciform embrace eternally
Invading our continuum
Cascading grace into every place where darkness threatens.
These arms hold me interminably
In the eternal grip of a loving God
Who came to us and holds us close.

Friday, September 19, 2014

I've started to play with some digital image/drawing stuff. All early doors in terms of developing technique and such like. But promising I hope. More to come in due course!

Trying to capture the point of the Sanctuary venue at New Wine - turning aside from the road to meet with God
The fire is meant to be about righteousness and trusting the Holiness of God


Psalm 119's precepts always make me think of corridors and colonnades. That's probably just me...

Saturday, June 21, 2014

This poem is a reflects on what it is I love about poetry and other art

As the poet's pen dances across the page
she weaves a web which captures worlds,
ensnares ephemeral moments
which, without her craft,
are, all too soon, gone.

She traps the transcendent,
crystalises memories
of fragile, forgotten yesteryears;
the wonder and the warmth,
places and faces which shape the self.

Her art,
like street lamps shining bright
illuminates the road we each have travelled.
Those shared paths of sadness and joy.
Rambling roads which widen and narrow
but all
eventually
lead
home.

Monday, September 23, 2013

The Rock

One of the perpetual challenges of any Christian ministry is balancing what is our work and what is God's work.  This poem explores something of that with the idea with the idea of trying to move an immoveable rock.

Stressing, straining, sweating, complaining;
They tried to move the rock.
Rooted, remaining, resisting, unchanging
The rock remained quite still.

Projecting, predicting, proclaiming, declaring;
This rock just has to move.
Rooted, remaining, resisting, unchanging
The rock remained quite still.

Stubborn, stupid, selfish, clueless;
The rock didn't understand.
Rooted, remaining, resisting, unchanging,
The rock remained quite still.

Tearful, tantrums, trials and stress;
This rock caused endless pain.
Rooted, remaining, resisting, unchanging,
The rock remained quite still.

Penitent, prayerful, petitioning, faithful;
The rock was barely a pebble.
Transferred, transformed, truly loved,
The rock is life filled dust.

Empowered, enabled, emboldened, hope filled;
The rock is the foundaiton.
Beginning, believing, building, receiving,
The rock redeemed by love.

Monday, August 05, 2013

Sanctuary

This is a poem I wrote about the New Wine Sanctuary Venue which I have been blessed to co-lead. I shared it during a reflection about the space. People wondered if it was a a available anywhere, so here it is.

Welcome to this thin place
Where the hungry feed on bounteous grace
Where wounded hearts are held and healed
Where teaching is imbibed and sealed

Welcome to this peaceful place
Where we draw nearer to your face,
Where people soak within God's love,
Where the Spirit descends from above.

Welcome Lord, meet us here,
Where stillness will drive out our fear.
Where hope invites transformation
Where lives are changed through redemption.