Why?

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Why?

There are days when the cry of my heart is 

why?

The why of life ..

it just is.

Today again I asked the question 

while out walking

with our crazy, nearly new, sweet 

Rosie dog.

she zigged and zagged and tripped me up

her nose was here and there and everywhere

her fear of all things new

her dog antenna on high alert

while walking I happened upon a moment

a moment in time that begs the question 

why?

 from quite the oppostie side of life

came a homeless man.

he stopped by a tree 

our meeting was not amicable

it was full of lust and sex

why?

I found the feminist in me rising up and out

Why is it that men think women want to experience their nether regions?

what is it that makes a man think he can just expose that of himself to 

just any woman

to me?

why would , just any woman want to see that part of you?

Why?

Why do women have to carry such heavy loads?

all things unsaid

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all things unsaid

you 

sit, face full on in a quizzical stare

a look that silently gives voice to a hundred words

never said

the silence hangs thick between us

full of brokenness and lack

the shared life that never was

and.... now

life's end beckons you and it is

too late

Loss of One Kind or Another

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This is for all who have and will experience LOSS of many kinds. 

We tend to talk and think about loss in relation to death only. While this is one of the types of brutal loss in this life, there are actually many other areas where people experience the pain of loss.  The loss of a dream or a hope. The loss of relathionship. The loss of work. The loss of being able to work. The loss of sound and rational mind; physical strength and health; loss of a childhood; loss of wholeness and broken emotions. All these , and more are different types of pain and loss. Grief rules this life. Jesus is the healer.  He is the one and only saviour!!

Loss of One Kind or Another

Today I felt your presence again

that sad, grey cloak that

comes 

and presses  in on my body,

the arms of which carress my soul.

You bring along a friend called hoplessness,

another called loneliness and sorrow.

these cling like a glove to a wet hand

When will you leave?

Today you paid me a visit, again.

you called out and reminded me

of hoplessness

of sadness

of lonliness

again

you called out and reminded me 

of all the loss

of lost dreams and broken hopes.

You laughed while you sank you teeth deep into my heart.

Again.

Can sorrow and pain not be quenched.

Can sadness and loneliness  not stay away?

Are the patterns of broken relathionships,

of  hollow promises,

of lack of commitment,

to be the order of the day.

whatever happened to trustworthy

faithful

hopeful

kind and really caring people?

where have they gone?

Have I died along with all of you too?

Is true friendship real?

Do people count for anything anymore?

or is it just all about My felt needs

and My comfort now?

How sad a world we have created.

I am reminded of  loss again...

I miss you so much.

I really do.

My hear aches to breaking with the loss of you.

that which could have been

that which should have been

but for brokeness that came in and cut us off from one another

so I can long for you
but

you do not come 

you can not come

you are no more.

Who can hold my breaking heart?

who can touch me in that deep place where that little ,dancing light 

has been snuffed out.

Can this loss be found?

Can it take on a new shape

a bold and beautiful shape

called LOVE.

I do not know the answer to this.

And yet there is HOPE

for all those who come to HIM

Does anyone care anymore?

Is anyone faithful anymore?

Is there one who is trustworthy?

Is there one who will fight for us?

My hear cries out - there just has to be?

Yes!

He is the suffering servant. 

He came to die that I might have life in him.

He totally understands 

He was broken and bruised and left alone.
Even his friends deserted him.

He was beaten and mocked and killed

He knows our pain 

He feels our loss

He is the one!!

He is powerful and bold.

He holds all things together by his word.

He is tender

faithful

and kind.

and he loves us more than we can ever imagine

or understand.

He is the one in whom all loss has meaning

in one way or another

perhaps even at one time or another.

He is the answer.

He is the one who holds me 

when it is too hard to get up

to hard to live and love again.

He is the one.

I have seen him fashion his love to hold those who have loss

of one kind or another.

He is so gentle and kind.

he cuts off options .. for some

and opens doors for others. 

He is at work and in control

with kindness and courage he moulds and shapes

faith

trust

steadfastness

truth

hope and peace

back into the heart of the broken one.

The God of Love

I am proud to be called your father

I know you can be a great woman of God

I love you!!

Words that a father has repeated to a child 

each evening as he tucks in the blanket

and plants that kiss on an expectant forehead.

Sweet words to the listening ear

Abba.

Daddy.

I call out to you

and you are there for me

me...

again and again.

Like a little girl

full

full of expectation and hope

and you dp not disappoint me

You are so faithful and true

so honest and real

you who formed the universe and each twinkling star

you spoke it all into being

and yet you call ,...

even me

Abba.

Daddy.

Thank you

for holding me so close and answering my prayers

thank you for loving me

with a never stopping kind of love

for never , never, not for one single second

thank you for never giving up 

and loving me despite 

me

and I too want to look into yours eyes one day and say

Jesus.....

we made it

you and I

For you.

 I heard the news. It came like a blow

so unexpected

such a shock.

a jolt.

and then the pain and sadess of what I heard made sence.

He is dead.

so, today I baked and went to you

a mother and father in deep pain

what can be said?

how can I help you hold your loss

your pain

your boy is gone.

I cried with you

we cry with you

know that we care , deeply

and are here to help you

be with you, if that is what you need

Jesus is here too.

he holds all things together

he loves and cares for you

and as you weep he collects your tears

gathers them up and holds them near

his arms hold you.

one day it might all make sense

but until that day

remember the Lord

rememeber that He is at work

in your loss and grief

he is there

at work

for you

in you.

But for now

grieve

it is a deep and searing loss

Who am I really ?

Today, again I slipped and fell
and tumbled down, down, down , deep into the abyse
where darkness hides all that is and all that might be.
I search and search and all that comes to naught.
It is hollow loneliness that engulfs and smothers me.
It winds itself so tightly around and around again
and laughs out loud as it pulls and chokes until  nothing is left.
And so I begin the slow and painful climb once more.
I claw and drag and push upwards
longing for a breath , hoping for a hand to pull me from the other side.
But none is there.
The journey is slow and treacherous
 full of doubt and clouded a mist.
The bottom of the pit seems so, so far from all that is light and life and fun.
I am tired, so very very tired. My limbs ache with heaviness
they pull me on, drag me up and up and up towards the light
It is a cold and lonely journey.
I hear myself calling.
I hear myself reply.
The day is long and the perilous pathway is littered with familiarity
anger, sadness and fear lurk and threaten
Their strength and grip are solid and firm
their desire to rule is real and safe
I picked myself up and dusted me knees
I knew again that what I am and what I was are two different people

How can we love you when your pain is in the way?

For Sammy

I remember the day I came to visit you

For the very first time

I came

Into the room, I came

Free and accepted.

You lay on the bed

So small and all curled up

So in need of care and protection

Your mom sat along side you

So pleased

So proud

Another little girl had been born

Not just any girl

Not just any

You see, it was Sammy

Our Sammy.

So beautiful and whole

So perfectly formed

I looked through my pain

Of loss and sadness of what might have been

Through it all

And I saw you

As we watched you grow and bloom

You seemed adorned with a real sense of purpose

Of  being.

How can the head express what the heart feels?

With you came that something special

To know you is to love you

To spend time with you is to laugh out loud

Yes and to cry too

I see you

I see you

Now you seem to be a shadow of yourself

Loneliness has smothered you

Snuffed out your life

Pain cries out

So loud, yet none can hear

It crushes and curls inside like a viper waiting to strike

It rules and thrashes again and again

The cuts are deep and you feel no more

I know what it is

I see the pain and hear it scream

So here we are

Playing the waiting game

What are we waiting for?

While we wait know this one thing

I am here waiting with you

My prayers cover you like a warm cloak

Jesus is waiting too

Remember those things I painted

And told you

He is not waiting for you to clean up your act

Get it right

Be healed

Oh no child, sister

He is waiting for you to

Just as you are

And then he will

Pick you up off the floor

Wash you pure as snow

And slowly and very gentle

Because that is just how he is,

Piece you back together

For he knows how you fit

He made you after all

Sammy, my precious Sammy

Know you were once so loved

And still are

All the more

The Safe Place

I long for this.
My soul cries out,
change me!
In that deep, deep place within,
Oh Lord, grant me this prayer
be merciful to me
a wretch
a sinner.
Transform my mind
and heart
draw me out and expose me
those secret, hidden things
no-one else can see
But you, you can.
I lie naked before you
my soul open and my heart is offered.
Tear away my filth
my sad excuses to cover that which is an affront to your .
But you oh King stand tall and offer your all
for me.
You give everything
and spare nothing at the cross.
Help me embrace you as you enfold me
in your care and love and tenderness.
Restore me to that place
The Safe Place
where you are
Beautiful and holy and pure
and you invite me to come
"Come", you say.
and when I do I find I can stand again
free from the burden that has clothed me for sometime
the sad and sorrowful excuse that held me back and caused me not to come
Jesus!
Jesus! Be my all in all again.
Break me and lift me up once more
so that I may be changed and whole
in you.
I am weak and frail and vulnerable before you
your powerful work within me overwhelms me
and I can not hold that.
I long to desire you and only you.
I long to stand again in grace that flows and pours
like a river of love
so that I may feel it again.
What it is to be a child of the living God

I rest again in The Safe Place
where colours are felt and my load is left behind
so once more I can breath
I can feel and live
for you.

Thank you Jesus!

A Poem for Doug

“This is the real

This is it!

This is life”, she told me

I have been pondering these words and have come up with this

Life is happening as we speak.

All of it, all of the time

Minute by minute.

That full up feeling wells up in me

Bringing with it tears of deep regret of things said and done

That I am not proud of

And deep longing for that which seems to be

Just out of reach.

What is it in me that can not escape?

The claws and grip of

That which should not be.

How much longer I struggle

and fight and hold on to that which is safe?

These questions swim in my mind and the answer

stands way off standing confused and daunted by the question itself.

Always out of reach, usually here for the taking but so hard to hold

Like a slippery rock or a slithering snake it squirms away, so that I can not hold it firm and secure.

How then do I press on?

My burden is heavy and closed.

These words I write help to clarify and expose that which chooses to fight and remain tightly shut up in the past.

The past is ever present you see.

It lurks and curls and is.

It is the ever present whisperer

“I am here and you are trapped”

If only I could rip the very heart of the past right out and shatter it beneath

It would swirl and shrivel in the light and die the death it aught.

The longing for what seems to never be is real and sad.

To trust and trust again is that which is hidden

It forms the core of all I am and sends out those soldiers that keep watch

Keep me safe

To trust and give myself to you is the hardest thing I have ever been called to do

Yet God you never lie and so I can trust you but do I?

Do I totally and with all my being trust the Living God who is the kind whisperer

who calls me, calls me to Him.

With my head I shout yes but with the core of who I am I am unsure.

I have a friend who is blind.

Trust is the essence I see as she allows herself to be lead

She journeys over ground that is unsure and unseen and yet she goes

Her vulnerability is tangible

I long to trust you Jesus just like that.

And so once again I ask the Alpha and Omega

Grant from your hand of grace that flows like a river

Grant me trust like this oh Son of Man

He who sits enthroned and King

He who rules the world and is

Real and love and kindness and compassion in all its essence

He who we worship

The Easter I am reminded of his great cost

His sacrifice and suffering for me

So that I may be set free from the bondage of sin and set free to love and live

For him, through him and, in him.

And yet I come again to humbly ask for more.

Who am I that the God of the Universe should even hear

Forgive me again Jesus

Thanks you for the cross

Thank you again for your love and care

I love you

From this love that you give

Help me to love the one you have given me

With a pure and true and trusting, deep love

This is my desire!

For Di

a life well lived

a life blessed

to know him

to be found in him

and known by him

a life so full

of stories to tell

where the journey meandered

through peaks of joy and love

and valleys of sadness and pain

yet he was there

you could not see him

he walked alongside you

calling gently then more audibly

until the hidden journey appeared

like a royal banquet

he has given you a hope for the future

he has revealed his plans for you

and so you stand secure

with eyes wide open

and mind set on new and glorious realities

each breath from the very first

one that drew in the air

and shouted live, live, live

to that final one you share with us

as you pass from life to life

and oh much more

so look back and frown no more

shed not a tear

rather look forward with joy, with hope

to colourful, extravagant celebration

where you will be seated with him

here we share in the celebration

of a life lived to the full

having passed seventy years

journeying here and there

upon the earth

with thankful hearts we share

and celebrate with you

standing hand in hand

we have come to say well done

we love you

you are precious to us

don't give up the race

because you are nearly at the finish line

nearly, nearly home.

The Scream

The Scream by Edvard Munch.

Scream

It would feel great to scream,
to just let rip and let it all come out
in one loud, blood curdling scream.
Like the person in the painting
just not so quite insane.
I am not insane you see
but , at times there rises up in me this urge to
shout out really loud
and tell it ;like it is.
Be done with all this nicely, nicely stuff
and to say it like it is.
But, that is not how it is
or aught to be
so I bite my lip
and shout inwardly
oh so so loudly
the mountains nearby could hear
and the heavens would feel
The Scream from within

On Being Made Vulnerable

On being made Vulnerable.

Being made vulnerable was forced on me

Like a strong armed man beating his opponent to the ground

Or a wrench clasping and turning that bolt

Opening up the object held shut beneath it.

And so a real, deep sharing happened.

It was not that long ago

When the newness of life uncurled itself

And breathed it’s very, very first and precious breath.

How very deeply personal and precious

being made to be vulnerable is.

It is like handing the most delicate thing

Into the hands of another.

Will they receive the gift with the care it needs?

Will they trample on vulnerability itself

And laugh as they leave?

Being vulnerable hovers and hangs.

It hovers in that place between secret and known;

Between darkness and light

And it pushes and prods to rush out and scream

“I am here”

And so it was that deep things were shared

in that giving of myself all other parts changed.

I changed.

But this I know;

He was there then.

He is here now.

Shirt sleeves pushed up

As he carves and shifts,

As He carefully, thoroughly

Weaves His perfect pattern.

Yet, the struggle continues

It can not seem to find a resting place.

my thoughts are restless

my soul cries out to Him.

Oh how he washes his love and presence

It flows like a never ending river

Bringing life and hope

Because the cost for Him was complete

And He gave everything he had

The world? Oh much more.

He gave his all and I lost some too.

Yet he understands that, even that.

Thank you.

Being made to be vulnerable

Brought deep love

It revealed His hand and plan, in part.

Yet sadness and sorrow rested there too.

For haughty eyes and proud hearts

Gathered to peck at the remains.

When life runs smooth and kind

And struggles seem few

Beware, beware, beware!

For you know not the depth and toil

That another might have.

Rather let gratitude and love rest

You know not when time will call you

As it gathers the wind to blow and thrash

Upon the shores of your life.

Calling you to be made vulnerable.

All in a day!!

This life of mine is full of news. Stories and tales and gossip of sorts. Most of it happy and glad and fun but then there are times when my heart is so burdened; so saddened ; so cast down with the deep sorrow that flows from a life.
Like the sadness I heard this week of a young man who died. He died in his sleep with his mother and father and brother still there. They tried, oh how they tried but he died. All the hard work of the years at University brought to a sudden and untimely end. It is wrong when children die. it is all wrong!
Or the sad news I heard from the mouth of my boy. " Olivia 's brother died". I stopped. I knew him you see. Though his brain was broken and he drooled and grunted, he was a alive and now he is dead. Today I saw his mother. Strong and independent in spirit and yet so sad and distracted. I wanted to call out to her above all the noise. " I am so, so sad for your loss". But really what does one say to a mother who is grieving the loss of her child. The child she carried for 9 months and knew and loved so. There are no words you see.

Yet Jesus sees all this and he weeps too. All I can do is talk to him about the this mom and that one. And then there is the friend who is picking up the pieces of a marriage all broken and gone. How do I care for her and love her? I ask Him to hold her and love her as I try and mumble some words that encourage and extol her to carry on in life.

And then in the midst of all this my boy is so sad and anxious and I have to leave and big tears roll silently down his round cheeks and my heart all but breaks in two. And when we are home and my other boy comes and shares his pain and heart ache over a friend who is mean. He cries and I cry inwardly. My bucket is not big enough Oh Lord to hold all this pain and sadness. But you Jesus have hands and a heart that can hold it all. Please take it and lift load.

I am old now.

Thomas' class put on a show for at a local old age home. It was both beautiful and sad. That is what this poem is all about.

I am Old Now

The sign above the entrance reads " Service Center"
A sea of grey hair was spread out in front of us.
They wait so still, so patiently for us
to come and bring in cheer
with flowers and smiles and songs
we brighten their day.

You were there too.

Once you were full,
full of life and energy,
Once time ruled you like a fist
as you were rushed about by the real demands of this life.
But now, time spreads endlessly before you
like a flat, still ocean.
What does time hold for you today?

Once , not so long ago, noise and purpose filled your day
But now you rest and wait in the stillness of The Home.
Before your busy hands helped those who you love and cared for
but now unknown hands lift you up so you can stand
and walk
and go where you are told to go.

When time was young and life was full
You kept yourself busy with the things of life.
You crammed your brain with words from books you loved
You allowed your thoughts to focus and grow
But now you thoughts are hard to contain
They flow here and there and words ramble
and confuse themselves.

When you look in the mirror
where once a young face stared back
with expectation and confidence
now the eyes that gaze back at you
are old and lost
hidden in the wrinkles of skin stretched by life
held up by a bent and broken body
frail and brittle.

And so you wait
the fullness of your life has passed
for you and so you wait......

What are you waiting for?
Do you still have hopes and dreams ?
Or have you said goodbye to these
buried beneath a pile of a shattered life?

A strong wooden cross stands tall
It casts a shadow over all the grey,
old people in The Home.
You are there too.
It stands tall and strong
He calls to those who sit expectantly beneath it

While the body ages
and does not last; while you wait for death
look to the cross that stands so tall and strong
so that you can wait with hope and real expectation.
For the One who rules and loves is the One who died
so that this curse called aging and death
would loose its sting.

Wait knowing that the One who died for you
is eagerly , patiently waiting
for you.

So when the body breaks a grows oh so weary
Take heart in your spirit oh soul
for God is not finished with you yet
and when he is done
and you have run His race
the waiting will be done
you will be going home.

My old Friend

My faithful old friend is back.

He has returned so strong and full of courage.

Not the kind of courage one needs to face a fear

But the kind that lays bare the heart and reveals old wounds

That tramples and rides rough shod over ground long forgotten.

My old friend rejection is back

To rule and swagger as he likes.

He laughs and jeers as he roams.

Who can stand when rejection comes around?

He knows just where to prod and push

Deep inside where old wounds lie buried.

He digs them up and waters them so

Fresh growth sprouts and sadness grows;

Here he has some rich soil to toil and play.

My old friend rejection has come knocking

Once again he calls me out

So that he can play.

The rules of this game are oh so familiar

He roams freely, gathering a memory here and an old hurt there.

My old friend rejection is here again

How long will he stay this time?

And when will he return?

He was carried along when words of “love”

And “kindness” and “this is for your good” – we love you so

Found place in hearts and hands that scribed them down

And rushed them on like a speed train destined for nowhere in particular.

Yet the “love” and “kindness” brought no love or any kindness

but rather, left their mark or deep despair and great heartache

where rejection stands tall and powerful

and laughs out loud for all to hear.

The Homeless Man.

He is ordered
and neat
and squirrels away useful items,
useful to him , at least.
He finds them in the piles of things thrown out with the rubbish on rubbish day.
He packs and unpacks and packs again all his belongings,
into his trolley taken from some or other supermarket.
Perhaps he needed it more than the busy shoppers
gaily filling it up with this and that,
things that they might need or want...
useful to them..
He wraps himself up like a caterpillar spinning a cocoon of silk
but not with silk and softness but with thick plastic.
A barrier of protection from the pelting rain.
He sleeps, soundly, as the rain streams down the window pane,
my face pressed up firmly to the glass, gazing out into the night.
I am warmed by food and clothing and heath and wealth,
while he lies asleep on the pavement outside, warm and cosy in his plastic cocoon.
As if he had not a care in the world.

What were the things in his life that fashioned him to be homeless and sleep out on the hard , cold and unfriendly pavement?
Where people shout
and shove
and call him names
and where danger lurks as the sun closes shop .
In the dark night he is alone.
He is alone...
Yet I feel scared.
How strange!

What happened to him?
What wrong choices did he make and what choices does he have?
I ponder the answers to these and other questions as The man sleeps soundlessly on the pavement.
My soul wrestles yet again with shame and pity and sadness and anger.
A boy prays " please Lord can Brian find a place where he is welcome" and inwardly I cringe with guilt and sadness.

Two Poems

This is the story behind the writing of these two poems...

I was chatting to a friend a few days ago about living life as a Christian. We were talking about the trends in modern life. Some are good and some are fun and some are, well just plain evil. After this conversation, I realised that I had been feeling a longing for the simplicity of childhood. Of course, not all have this privileged, but I found myself really straining under the responsibility to be , well, adult. The real difficulties of making "grown up decisions" was weighing heavily and I felt really bogged down.

The first poem flows from this longing and the second is the very real answer I have to that longing, as a Christian woman. It is all found in Christ alone.

Words , words, words.

My head is full of words this day.

As I sit and sew.

I am sewing a bag : a strong bag for books

That other bearer of words of a different kind.

My mind races here and there full, full of words.

Not the kind I like to have but the kind I must.

I let them flow like a river.

Words , words , words .

Full of life’s longings.

I long for what has been.

For the days when life was full of colour and innocence and fun.

A peaceful meandering of time,

A strong sense of certainty and a real belief in dreams.

What has become of those times?

My mind races back to my family home

The fresh smell of horses and outdoor things

The power of the highveld sun pouring in through the window

The sound of silence and gentleness

The clip clop of hooves and the bark of dogs.

The kindness of time gone is recalled as my mind travels back, before, before

All this…….

Before the present descended and pierced my soul.

I long with an urgent and deep, deep longing. My soul cries for that time but the time is now.

When things are adult and real.

The now of time is full. Yes it is full, full of many things.

It is seldom full of the kinds of things I longed for way back then. Those dreams have been trampled and have long taken flight. I am left rummaging in the sale of my life. Looking for a bargain; a gem of sorts. Longing and hoping for what I am not even sure anymore. Perhaps, perhaps it is the past I long for? Those childish things of days forgotten or perhaps it is the future I hold on to. It would seem that even that I have forgotten.

I press on with the task, sew, sew , sew . Finish the bag that will hold the words that stir younger hearts!

My mind a swirl of words, words, words.

My soul cries out.

Perhaps!

The Answer to Longing.

That longing I spoke of.

What is it?

It is real and present.

It bursts with the sunshine and hides in the shadows of days gone by.

How can it be satisfied?

How can it be helped?

This longing.

If I ponder, even for a moment or a lifetime and think about what could have been?

If I toss and turn in my mind and wrestle with longing and if I come out with any kind of answer it is this…..

Long ago and before time began.

Before the world was pushed and shoved and talked into being.

Long, long ago when the earth was new and fresh and

He walked here. Here I say.

His footsteps were kind and his hand was called friendship.

Longing had no place here.

Yet I, the creature began to long

and hope

and wish for that which was not mine to grasp at.

And the seed of longing and its friend discontentment began to roam freely.

Oh How I tried in vain to shove them back.

Yet He was there, still, kind and loving.

Full of fairness and hope.

He had the answer. He was the answer. I did not see it.

Yet!

“Have it; want it; need it; reach for IT!

IT will quench the longing in your heart and you will be like Him and you will rule with wisdom.

And that lie still flourishes in this age.

It lives on in me and dwells with mankind.

That we the creatures would usurp the throne where sadness, fear, greed and selfishness now rein.

So, that longing I spoke of has its roots in the age before when time was new and the world was fresh.

What can be done?

Who can plug the hole where the dreams of men leak out like the water through the hole into nothingness?

Here, down here, where broken lives have battered bodies and bruised souls

And hide behind masked smiles

I fear it is not I.

In the quite moments when I focus my thoughts on Him, these words soak up my mind like the sponge it is.

Trust

Peace

Joy

Kindness

the treasure at the very centre, holding them all together

Love.

He is love you see.

Everything about him is loving and kind.

Two rare qualities we see very little of these days.

Yet He will not give up and he will seek those who belong to him.

He longs for them with such an urgent kind of longing.

A death, crying longing that pierced the dark sky on a day not so long ago.

That longing and cry still ring out today and rush here and there drawing in any who are able to hear it.

You are mine! Come to me he whispers.

Whispers I say because he is loving and kind and will never force or break.

Yet he never gives up.

His longing drives him on until every creature that every lived will on that day see Him in Glory and splendor.

His longing will be quenched on that day

And so to will mine.

From That Broken Place

Tonight I write from that very broken place inside. I am sad, so very, very sad.

I am actually unable to write about the thing that has broken my heart yet again. I am just so very very sad and the sadness always leads to questions and questions have no answers. The why is left to hang in the air like a dusty christmas decoration taken out yet again for the tree.. I have no answer to the question of sadness except that it is and always will be - all consuming and there, in that deep and secret place.

I want to run away and hide from life but life rolls on like the waves ; one after the other in that endless rhythm...... can you hear them ... on and on.

I have a yearning inside to be happy and full and alive. But all that is there is broken and left alone to be. Words spoken in anger or in truth are words that stay and grow and take on a shape of their own. How do we flee from the words that have shape within us. How ?

The question that is left to hang on the tree....unanswered.

"Hello. How are you?" is the question most asked. "I am Ok." I smile knowing that I am lying.

The Unbearable Burden of 'being perfect'!

I write this blog from my heart knowing that it is not perfect in its use of language or in its content. I write this blog post with a very heavy heart for myself and a deep longing to stop living life the way it is for me right now. I do not want to carry the load of being Perfect anymore and I do not want to pass that load onto my children or demand it any longer from my husband and from those around me. I know that this desire and the working out of it in my life will in itself be a messy work. I recognize that for some in my family , the need to be perfect comes from within and is fed from without. Everything shouts - YOU NEED TO BE PERFECT. - buy this ; get that ; change this; swap that ; paint here ; tweak there ; diet , run , sleep, have sex, have more leisure time, time alone..... etc, etc, ( please dont mis hear me. Lots of these things are right and good in their place).

Here goes....

This morning at the children's nursery school , a little boy I know quite well, had a T-shirt on that said'" I am perfect like my dad". Now in of itself this just a little boys shirt and we all get what it is saying but it kind of summed up for me some of the things I have been thinking around the idea of Perfectionism and "being Perfect".

One of the big messages today is this one.... It is an important life goal to gain perfection in all areas of life. No we may not have bought whole heartedly into this idea but there are glimpses of it in our lives if we really look and lift up those little corners. We are encouraged to start with our selves. The perfect body ; no fat, no flab, no stretchmarks, not to much sun just the right amount of exercise and healthy eating on all levels. Go Organic if you can and vitamins, doctors check-ups and the list goes on and on..... No dont get me wrong here, being healthy is good and right. I am using these examples to illustrate the bigger idea. The pursuit of the Perfect Body which then leads you to the perfect partner. Following on from this the Perfect Home, Car, Dog, job , bank, bank balance, and the list is endless. Depending on age and stage we could all find ourselves along the continuum of the line of perfection. Which leads to the perfect child and the perfect friend for the child which then leads to the perfect schooling system and the Perfect school and etc... etc.

I am a christian woman and so I find the idea of perfection in christian thinking on life ; in christian books on marriage, parenting, schooling, discipline and the like. The pursuit of the Perfect Life surrounds us.

There are many who help us on the way to being perfect. Gyms litter the landscape; health food shops ; educational toy shops; sport coaching ; life coaching ; self - help book shop shelves ; magazines and if all else fails there is always my friend 'google'the like. So help in gaining the perfect this or that is close at hand. Much of this stuff is written and put forward by well meaning people. Being Perfect is big business.

( Once again, please dont misread me. If you read me at all :)I think some of these things have great value and are good to do ; read and enjoy.
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The pursuit of' being perfect' is a burden for humanity. All around I interact with people who are exhausted on every level. We say things like ," it is the time of year" or " I Just need more sleep" -( which may be true), but I wonder if more and more if the pursuit of the Perfect is not what is exhausting us. It is so tiring fighting for something which is not attainable.
Here is the crux of the thing about searching or working for The Perfect is that when we can not find it ; hold it; keep it; have it or when the perfect partner turns out to be not so perfect and the perfect baby screams all day ; the perfect profession pays so very little or the perfect house begins to date what do we do then?

I suspect the desire for The Perfect Life is modern, Western Man 's desire to know God. God is Perfect and all he does is perfect.
He has a perfect plan for mankind.
It is this.......He purchased for himself ; us weak, weary, rebellious and broken people.
He did this by giving himself to die on a tree for our sin against him.
It seems so far fetched and so unreal and frankly so yesterday.
But the reality is that God used that which is foolishness to us - he chose the foolish things of this world to shame the wise and the weak things of this world to shame the strong.
What seems to be weak and simple is actually the God of the Universe's Perfect Plan for weak and sinful man.
Here is the beautiful thing We can know this perfect God.
Ill say that again. We can actually know God.
To Know God is to accept God's perfect way in sending his son Jesus to die on the cross for our rebellion against him ( God that is) and in return we receive from God many things; but for the purpose of writing about The Perfect Life, I want to focus on one thing we receive.

We are set free!! We are free to live our lives for God. We are free to live our lives loving others. We are able to be not so perfect ; and live in a not so perfect world with not so perfect children, friends, relatives and spouses. We ourselves can be not so perfect because we are free. Yes, we must work hard at life in all its areas. But the thing is , when we mess up and when our kids mess up and when our friends mess up and ....and ... and... we are free to keep loving , forgiving and helping each other. We are free to never give up.

If you like I feel burdened by the false desire to Be Perfect , be encouraged to seek the One who is Perfect himself and who is able to set you free to live.