The shameful misspelt me.

I am squelching through the images that populate my thoughts in search of the grammar that firmly sits on solid ground.

I am forevermore route planning sentences, avoiding hills and unpronounceable roads. Constantly searching for places of creative rest and colour.

I am seeking thin spaces where wisdom is a feeling and words a silent a whisper that dwells in the heart.

I am pondering the brambles, painfully aware of the misplaced, misspelt words that pearce my confidence and silence the song of the unformed words trapped in my heart.

I delight in the unknowing, pulled into her colourful silent slipstream of unconditional love.

I delight in the dandelion and wander beneath the trees, silently knowing without understanding that God loves and knows the shameful misspelt me.

Haiku ( Jelly Fish and Post-it notes)

I’ve enrolled in a writing course, taking some time to learn and play with words.  I have discovered how to write a Haiku.

Mudlarking children

Gather upturned jellyfish

Splish splash plop  – rescued

 

Yellow square paper

shameful words, voice unheard

muted by the room.

Just Bluebells

It’s that time of year when our ancient woodland floors are smudged with hues of Blue, and the air is filled with the heavenly aroma of Bluebells. The native bluebell, Hyacinthoides non-scipta, (  Hyacinthoides means “like a hyacinth” Non-scripta means ‘ without writing’. ) is also known as the common Bluebell,  wood bell, and the fairy flower. Local ancient woodlands are some of our richest habitats in the UK. These precious habitats have remained mainly undisturbed for centuries. The Bluebells that colour our woodland floors are a great indicator of a biodiverse woodland, steeped in history, and as endangered as the tropical rainforests.  Bluebells first appeared in Britain not long after the last Ice age. They have a history awash with stories of fairies and folklore. In the language of flowers, the bluebell is a symbol of humility, constancy, gratitude and everlasting love. In the Bronze age, our ancestors attached flights of feathers to their arrows with glue made from bluebell bulbs, and the Tudors used a starch extracted from crushed bluebell roots to stiffen their iconic ruff collars. Bluebell bulbs also contain toxins, it was because of these toxins that they were used as a source of glue for bookbinding. This discouraged silverfish from attacking the books. For centuries pages of scripture have been bound together with Bluebell glue. Bound together by a plant with a botanical name Non-scripta,  meaning without words. Amazing to think that the plant without words is the glue that binds together our ancient pages of scripture. Pages that hold the grand narrative of God’s mission and the stories of God’s people.

To see awesome drifts of bluebells and be filled with their heavenly scent is a gift. A gift of wonder and awe; the gift to appreciate God’s glories and wonders at every moment, in everything we see and everyone we encounter. But the gift of wonder can often leave us speechless, creating within us moments of stillness and silence. Humbling moments when we see the outstanding beauty of the small Blue flower and simultaneously see the greatness of God.  

Poet Gerard Manley Hopkins saw in the humble bluebell the very “glory of God” So it is with his words that I end.

‘I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our Lord by it. Its inscape is full of strength and grace’” Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Momentary sparkles of peace.

Spontaneous tears follow the familiar contours of the one who longs to keep her hands plunged deep into creation. Who finds comfort in this unspoken salty connection to the spirit who hovered over the face of the water.

Unprompted tears are the bubbles that cling to feet that paddle in a babbling brook. Crossing boundaries, these high-energy resilient droplets flow into estuaries oxygenated by a universal language of love.  

Love that Silently creates a salty path of awareness that sustains and heals the one who longs to walk barefooted into the presence of love.  

Please do not reach out to these tears, do not touch, do not dry or wipe them away. Please do not offer words of comfort to these Spirit-filled unprompted tears.

These tears need to be felt; they need to roll and journey to the estuary,  to the place where the spirit dances and the exhausted find momentary sparkles of peace.

Songs From The Heart.

Soil and soul.

The circle is broken and I cannot raise a tune
The fairies have left and they will not return
When the fairies danced on the land the circle was whole
And then you could raise a tune.

Words from a Gaelic song translated into English and published in Alistair Mcintoshs book soil and soul.

There’s a deep well of love that connects the tunes of the heart to our souls.
Our hearts have the capacity to feel vision, to write poetry, to raise a tune so powerful that it must be sung.
When we sing these tunes we do so with an energetic unashamed joy.
It’s so natural that I do not doubt the acoustic rhythms of my soul.
I find this fusion of heart formed notes when I cycle. The rhythm of pedalling, infuses with the seasons of my life, until a tune overflows into fully formed words.
These songs are different to the tunes we sing in church, different to the music that is played on the radio.
A tune so unique that doesn’t conform to the rhythms of life.  The songs of the heart are so much more than musical notes.
You don’t sing these notes; you embrace them, you ride into them, you feel them in your hair. They give you balance, stability and freedom.

During this huge time of uncertainty and stress we must look for the songs that unite us. To the tunes that build communities, the melodies of Gods grace .
To equip our hearts and voices our first duty is to STOP and listen to the whispering earth.

I am………

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
“Rooted”.
Journeying with God that we will never fully know.
Never fully comprehend.

We share bread and truth
A vision
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.

Princess and the Phoenix

We believe that love is a action that comes from God.
Radiant love informed by our past.
A relational love of creativity.
Simultaneously connecting tears, laughter and deep joy.
A love that is seen when we hold what we feel in our hearts.

We believe that growth comes from a spirited change.
A rooted way of doing. A creative way of being .
We believe as our seeds are carried by the strongest winds.
Passed though the deepest waters. We will not be overwhelmed.
When our homeland is destroyed by fire.
The flame will not consume us.
Through God the father we can regrow .

Rapidly growing, seed dispersing, story telling.
Soil enhancing , shade giver, disciple facilitator.
We are the paulownia family.
Pioneer Princess trees.

Under our wings of dark green leaves .
Woven into our being sits KHOL the Phoenix bird.
A renewed life, symbol of the resurrection and the redemptive power of Christ and eternal life in heaven.
When her time is fulfilled KHOL builds a spiced nest of frankincense and, myrrh.
She enters the fires dies and rises again .

We believe Gods love is sending us to the most unexpected of places.
We call this place home.
A place discovered in shared memories. A shared hope for the future.
Our dispersed seeds will carry the stories of land in which we live and love.
Nibbled leaves, snapped branches, exposed roots, an outward sign of our inward brokenness.
We have the courage to make home in these unexpected places.
Be the first to grow something new.
We are upward growing, challenging, risk takers.
Seekers with Questions.
We look for and find God at work in the most strangest of places.
Jesus offers us an upside down inside out back to front world of love and grace.
We dwell and grow together in this alternative beautiful reality.

 

Unknown ornamental.

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.
loved infinitely.

Unity is misplaced, harmony is alone.

Reaching out, touching what I cannot see .
Feeling the safety of the warmth that surrounds me.
Dazzled by a love that calls me.
Saddened by loves pain.
It’s within us all.
To change .

If all the world stood still at the same time.
We could hear creation groaning .
If we all stopped long enough to sit with open eyes we could see creations pain .
Sitting with closed eyes we become oblivious to our messy groaning world.
If we listen to the beating heart of love .
We change.

Anticipation of change brings adventure.
Good choices ease loves pain .
Empowering us to listen
Enabling us to change.
Prayers for courage wisdom.
To protect preserve and enjoy.
Harmony restored to creation.
Unity a spirit filled Joy.

Choose life.

This is the first of five blogs;  Reflections from my retreat weekend at Hilfield Friary.

Hilfield’s vision statement shares and reflects many of my own personal values. It’s a place that’s Rooted – seeking to live simply and gracefully, caring for the land that we have been entrusted with.
It’s Christain – Following Christ caring for the poor and marginalized of our society and all of creation. It’s Family – welcoming all people and creation.

These values are choices that we choose to live by.
My first reflection is from a guided time of prayer “ choose life”

Choose a vision.
Choose a cause.
Choose a different way.

Choose to respect the past and the present.
Choose to look for the little things in the places you would least expect to find them.
Walk bare footed in dew laden grass.
Choose to plant.

Sow in context.
Choose to wait.
Choose new paths.
Choose to see what happens.

Choose to love those awkward shapes.
Choose to listen.
Accept we all make bad decisions.
Choose to change.

Keep pathways open for conversations.
Choose to stop .
Choose to ask for help.
Choose to be fruitful.
Choose to accept gifts.
Embrace the hidden path ways of the journey
Choose to be rooted and grounded in love.
Choose God.
Choose life.