Creator of touch
Giver of pleasure.
Transformed by your grace we dance together.
Intertwined in a sacrament of divine love.
Shadows nudge a whispered breath.
Danced deep into our souls.
A creative voice
An ingrained tattered prayer
Covering dry bones.
Scratched and bruised
Listen to a new stirring
A global outcry
Flow though us.
They were all excited, because all of them heard the believers talking in their own languages. When this sound occurred, a crowd came together and was confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language. When that sound came, a crowd quickly gathered, startled because each one heard the disciples speaking in his own language.
Imagine the excitement of being one of the crowd that day, to be included in the conversations that surrounded you.
It’s easy to presume when we read this well-known passage ( Acts 2:6) that the language they all heard was spoken.
For some adults and children, the spoken / written language is not their own language.
For those of us that are wired slightly differently ( neurodiverse ) our first language is not always written / spoken. Some of us are picture thinkers. A picture thinker is someone who thinks primarily in pictures instead of the sound of words . Those with dyslexia, auditory processing, attentions issues like ADD/ADHD are people who might be picture thinkers
For those of us that think in pictures we live in a world that rarely speaks our language. Daily we can feel isolated, excluded and ashamed of our inability to communicate with others. We find ourselves exhausted as we struggle to read, write and function in a world that often perceives us as weird or even stupid.
Being neurodiverse means that we think and learn in a different way to other people. We often have particular strengths such as thinking outside the box, seeing the bigger picture and creative thinking.
When my dyslexic mind walks through what happened on that day of Pentecost.
I wonder how many of those stood in the crowd that day heard pictures being spoken from Peter’s words.
Peter explained to the crowd that everything had been written in the Scriptures about Jesus long before he had ever been born. He told the people that God sent Jesus to save them.
Some of the crowd that day might have seen the story of the messiah. They might have an image that represented their own sorrow and visualised their own forgiveness.
For the first time in their lives they may have felt truly understood. A way that would have seemed impossible only hours before.
The Spirit comes as an companion, a teacher, a Guide, to be with us – to remind us who we are and to whom we belong. To strengthen us for the task of living as God’s people in the world. It is the spirit that transforms us and weaves the gospel into our own language. That gives us a place of peace to go out into in a world that we cannot understand. It is only because we are understood and loved by God that we can be encouraged to let go of our fears and anxieties and walk into a world that scares us.
It’s the miracle of language. God showed himself willing to step into our individual space and verbalize a message in a language that we could understand. God showing his love to us. And maybe the greatest miracle, and the best explanation, of God happens when we take that love, given freely to us, and share it without reservation with each other.
Come, Holy Spirit, come.
Back in the early 1990’s a Uk animal laboratory went into liquidation.
The beagles they used for their research needed to be rescued. This was to be a massive undertaking, with the beagles being transported to RSPCA animal shelters across the uk.
These dogs had never seen the outside world, never walked on a lead. They had spent all of their lives in living kennels. They where regarded as a product, one that produced puppies as part of a profitable business.
Although not badly treated the dogs lacked any life skills and had no idea what a dogs life was all about.
Some of these beagles both young and old came into my care ( I was working at a RSPCA animal shelter) .
The puppies took well to their new environment.
As with most puppies they responded to human interactions. They learnt quickly from each other, finding huge joy in playtime and meal times.
The older breeding bitches, many of which arrived in pup had a long difficult journey of adjustment ahead of them.
As time moved on they slowly allowed me to love them.
To be with them as they gave birth to their puppies . Very Slowly they started to trust me.
They learnt to bark and loved the sound of their own voices. Their individual cheeky personality’s started to shine.
With a lot of patience they leant to walk on a lead, Soon they where enjoying lunch time walks along the river bank.
The beagles that arrived cowering and petrified soon started to greet meet with excitement, tails wagging.
The time came when not only did they TRUST me but I started to trust them.
All but one. LIBBY.
Libby found all this trust thing hard, she refused to walk on the lead. She was deeply sad and traumatised . The stress of the move from the laboratory kennels to the animal shelter had caused her to loose the litter of puppies she was carrying .
I often wondered if Libby could / should be rehomed. I wondered if the world even had that special family for her.
Libby was liberated from the kennels that robbed her confidence and released her into a life she could not understand.
Reflecting on the word TRUST this morning I thought of Libby and her beagle friends. The image of her sad pale face came to mind.
Reminding me how trust transformed the lives of these traumatised beagles. How their confused and dull faces, become colourful expressions of playfulness.
Trust not only transforms, but it’s visible.
When we come to know the trust of living with Jesus the changes in us can also be visible. The trust we put in Jesus enables and equips us to get through the hard times.
In the midst of this pandemic. I find myself speaking to God full of worry. I’m worried for the families that have lost loved ones. Worried about going out in a world that is full of anxiety and fear.
I’m afraid of losing our friends and family , afraid that our business won’t survive.
The moment is fearful, but in this fear their is hope for the future. The world no longer seems safe, it’s drowning and struggling to breathe. I feel it’s been struggling long before the pandemic started. The world is confused insecure and frightened .
The breathless world is still to be trusted. God still loves us. This love liberates us to live as God’s gifts to others, bringing refreshment and relief to those who suffer. And we are freed to welcome others as God’s gifts to us, receiving all the richness they can bring into our lives.
It was magical moment when Libby trusted enough to hide behind me while I introduced her to a wonderful family that would love and care for her. Except her just the way she was.
Trust is visible, we experience a joy so great that our tails wag. As we overcome our fears we learn to live out our faith to draw on the strength that comes from trusting in Jesus.
Psalm 27:5 Good News Translation
In times of trouble he will shelter me;
he will keep me safe in his Temple
and make me secure on a high rock.
In the beginning
Love met flesh
Love is patient, love is kind.
Love was unspoken word.
A nameless unspoken feeling of connection.
Love was a muted rhythm of life.
A unseen connection
Love dwelled deeply in flesh.
One day flesh was squeezed and squashed.
Pain held her so tightly .
That she screamed to word.
Flesh met Word
Word collided with loves feelings.
Feelings collided with loves word.
Love and word held flesh.
Flesh became present to light.
They held her tears.
They comforted her day and night.
They walked together
Held her in their arms,
They counted her tears.
They cried with her.
Love helped flesh understand word.
Love and word are patient and kind.
They grew flesh gently.
They watched her cry.
They become her rock.
They nurtured her unsaid words.
Love and word protected flesh.
They gave her hope
An a light to live by.
Flesh stayed safe in her garden.
She was still to afraid to tell of words existence.
The unnamed love was patient and kind.
Love dwelled deeply in flesh’s heart.
Everything was ready.
Waiting for flesh to speak loves name.
To give voice to the word .
To breathe the spirited light of action.
A deep wobbly breath of trinity.
The father son and the Holy Spirit
Dwelled deeply in her heart together.
They showed her their people.
Showed her one light of a love.
She saw her created self, her true self.
They walked with her as she left the safety of her garden
They walked with her as she moved into her neighbourhood.
Love action and word are generous and kind.
Love never fails.
The story is just beginning.
Love ( Jesus ) Word ( God) action ( Holy Spirit ).
Officially it’s a drop of water, containing elements which gives tears their characteristic salty taste.
Emotional tears also contain hormones which can improve our mood or ease our pains.
Tears release stories and emotions, expressing what our heart cannot say.
One single tear released in love is more powerful than a thousand tears cried in anger.
Just one single tear powerfully acted in the film “ Joker “ realeased me from the person I used to be.
In the opening few moments of the film before the story even starts, we watch the artist ( the clown ) applying his craft.
We see that familiar white clown face, with a coloured Blue diamond painted over the eye.
Than a solitary tear escapes from the clowns eye. This single tear travelled through the perfect hues of White and Blue. Leaving behind it’s own imperfect trail. A tear trail …
God spoke so powerfully to me through this single tear locked into a frame of film.
It was in that moment that I realised that this tear held the person I once was.
I was once a makeup artist. I would have scrutinised this tear from a technical view.
I would never see the true tear.. I saw the actors craft and the makeup artists skill. I saw lighting and editing. I saw film.
I questioned the products used, always looking for makeup continuity errors.
As that tear rolled I was released from thinking that way. Releasing me from the person I used to be.
In that one single tear; I saw emotions, I saw pain. I wanted to know the story behind the tear. Each tear holds more than we can ever imagine, more emotions more pain. Some tears hold stories that are just to painful to be told.
That one tear encapsulated my story. It was a tear that I was unable to cry myself . In the cinema God took that one tear and cried with me and for me.
I don’t miss the person I once was . Today I only see a life with Jesus . Sat in the cinema I said my goodbyes to the person I used to be.
It was not a time of my choosing, or a film of my choice. God spoke to my heart through the Jokers tear.
A tear that confirmed to myself that my recommendation for ordination training was real, realistic and from God
To serve God is a freedom thats full of creative energy, to serve is to remove chains and release love.
It is LOVE that inspires me and drives me to serve God . Only love can make such a choice. How different it is to serve another for love’s sake than it is to serve out of obligation or duty!
Jesus comes into the world not to be served, but to serve. He comes not to do his own will, but the will of the One who sent him. He “empties himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness.” He does this for love.
When we love we want to serve. We long to be given some task that will contribute to the good purposes of the one we love.
A mother longs to serve her children – out of love. We willingly set aside our own desires and preferences, we lay down our lives, for the sake of those whom we love.
I am a chosen servant of Christ.
I will make the wrong choices, I will mess things up, I will cry, laugh and seek those on the margins of our community. To be a voice of comfort and a voice of truth. I will freely and willingly give all of myself to God’s creative purpose.
Only love can make this choice.
5 Listen, my dear brothers and sisters. God chose the poor people in the world to be rich in faith. He chose them to receive the kingdom God promised to those who love him
For most of my life I told myself that I couldn’t write, ashamed of my stumbling words. I’m the person that avoids writing in a birthday card, through fear of spelling my own name wrong . ( yes that’s more than possible ).
My dyslexia holds my silent unspoken conversations . My stumbled unformed words stay locked within my heart. Unexpressed these words will eventually die. Each little wordy death takes some of my self confidence to its grave.
But then something happened.
Grief and pain that was so overwhelming I felt the only way to express these emotions was to write. The spelling and grammar just did not matter, what was important was finding an outlet for this pain.
Slowly I wrote, it was as if God was releasing all those dead words trapped in my heart. Each misspelt, badly pronounced word was finding its place in the world.
Each wrongly placed full stop, capital letter was typed up and shared on my newly published faith blog.
I am not being overly dramatic when I say that my life has never been the same since.
Something happened during the writing process that freed me from the pain of locked in words, I started to face my fears.
Each piece of writing had its own unique journey as years of frustrations were poured into cyberspace.
I don’t have what I would call natural talent. I can’t go from idea to blog in some quick effortless way. But if I take the time use and technology, I can write.
I’m am a writer.
My blogs have grown from a mumbled outpourings of grief to deep personal almost coherent reflections of my life with Jesus .
I am proud of my writing . I’ll never be William P. Young, in part because I am not. . I am Lindsay. With my own unique way of writing, which is given to me as a gift from God.
Blogging has enabled me to share how God has impacted, transformed and changed my life. Telling my story, sharing the love of Jesus in my ordinary every day.
Faith blogs are the new way to take the Gospel to the people. More and more people are turning to the online world to find answers and information on a variety of topics – including Jesus.
We are no longer bound by the confines of our postcode because the Internet makes it possible for us to connect with others literally around the planet!
My own blog “ it’s a beautiful word “ is its own little miracle because in doing it, I discovered, not what I couldn’t do, but what I could do. I stopped listening to that voice that told me I can’t do this and instead listened to the voice that said well done! With each person that viewed liked and commented on my blog came a sense of pride.
I had a voice… and .I would quickly learn that this voice came responsibilities.
Comments, messages and emails from those responding to my writing was a overpowering beautiful privilege, one that I could have never foreseen.
Today I see myself, not as someone incapable of writing, but as a wobbly voice, sharing the wonders and beauty of creation . God has once again helped me to see myself as I truly am, a gardener of creation with a gift to tell and share my story. To teach others the joys and treasures to be found in Gods beautiful garden.
Each blog is a tiny fraction of who I am, but each blog is a source of joy, and of pride, for in that moment I discover what it means to share the love of God to the listening hunger world.
I will be who I will be.
I have always been.
I am and always will be.
From the ancient mythological family of Taxus.
WE BELIEVE in the mysterious, unfathomable Rock
Rooted in an radiant evergreen love.
Growing in the infinite nature of God.
Plunging us into all that is seen and unseen.
We believe as our branches bend on the archers bow.
Arrows will be scattered.
Lighting the coloured stories of the master builder.
Illuminating; immortality, renewal and regeneration.
Sharing; everlasting life, rebirth and transformation.
We are called to a life in tune with creation
In tune with reality.
To grow a robust faith.
To listen to the spirit blowing through our leaves.
Ensuring, safeguarding, embracing our future.
Diverse in our thinking, grounded in tradition.
We dwell in the forest of disciple makers.
Seekers of light and hope.
Our creed can be danced in the autumn winds.
Sung to the morning sky.
Painted by the warmth of a winter’s fire.
Sculpted in mud from which we grow.
Dreamed into the reality of salty tears.
Slowly we change, slowly we grow.
We stand still
Journeying with God that we will never fully know.
Never fully comprehend.
We share bread and truth
We shared a path of hope
Celebrating our honest venerability
Not afraid to ask our rawest questions.
That rise out of the awe that comes from engaging the living God.
WE BELIEVE in one master weaver.
Who shapes and intertwines
The stories of the Gospels held
Within our chocolate vine.
We are woven into creation.
Rooted in the ground .
We are the princess of the mountains .
Walking towards the promised land.
We have held Moses in his basket.
Journeyed down the Nile.
Long tendrils lead us to your vision.
Signposting us the way.
Reaching for the light.
Through him all things were made.
We have held bread and fishes.
Shared the jug of Red wine.
Please listen to our story.
As we weave through your time.
These are stories of salvation.
Of prophets, people and kings.
And all of the one God that knows everything.
Dancing through the seasons.
Weaving flowers, leaves and vines.
We might not always see .
Just how these weavings intertwine.
Supported by the Trellis of Pentateuch.
Hang Chocolate leaves of Grace and Goodness.
We believe as we climb through the Gospels.
Are woven into the psalms.
You weave us to your completion.
It’s your shape, your stories .
That we intertwine.
We believe that our branches will have enough strength to support
our flowers as they blossom and fade.
We believe our flowers and fruit show only of what is seen.
Our creed is rooted in all that is unseen.
We are nourished from the deep scented springs of Israel.
Sheltered beneath her canopy of love.
We are as fruitful as an olive tree grown in the shade.
We are a unknown ornamental.
Named but misunderstood.
But through God our father we are made.
We thank God for the droplets of sparkling dew that rest on our Golden leaves.
Hope giving, thirst quenching, spirit filled water. Falls slowly into a hungry and thirsty fertile earth.
We grow to give hope, shelter, love and peace to our creators biodiverse creation.
Gods golden molten love is poured into our wooden hearts. Softening us, transforming us.
Blessing us with a sustaining rooted love of hope .
A steadfast love that produces an enduring determination.
If cut down we will regrow.
Through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
“ We will grow in love “
A spirit filled growth that grows within our limitations, shoots that accept our vulnerabilities. Shoots that will not cease.
Growing for the glory of God. Growing towards the kingdom that has no end.
We believe our roots will sustain us as we grow on the margins.
Our daydreams will be firmly established in love.
We pray for self confidence.
For a voice that can be heard.
As the wind dances over our golden Green leaves we look to God for the strength to stand up to what we perceive to be right.
We acknowledge that we are not ornamental. We Silence the voices that say we are not good enough.
We believe all creation is a treasure to be cherished.
We are rooted and grounded in love.