Wednesday 5 November 2014

Doors Close (by Julie Lee)

Not slammed in my face
but just calmly and sadly nudged
until the quiet click of the latch signals its stop in the jam.

My hand resting
on the door, pausing
in mourning for what has just been dismissed.

Feeling the strength
the solid piece
that I can't deny is needed for protection

of me.  The deafening stillness
when the storm is shut outside.
Doors close

and I mourn the loss even as I
savour the peace and warmth
allow the comfort to envelope me, my head leans
against the jam.

Not in regret -
it leans as I pray a prayer of release,
a prayer of blessing over that which has been shut out.

Doors close.
I rest.

Saturday 20 September 2014

Spark in the Uninspired


It’s been so long since I’ve sat down to type something out.  So long since I’ve had any interest in putting something together to release into the big digital oblivion.  Even now, as I sip my cold cup of decaf, I can’t say that I’m exactly chomping at the bit, knowing what I want to say.  All I know is that I’m feeling it’s time to open this back up again...

The question rolls around in my mind: where have I been the last 9 months?  I put in my 3 months of work.  I wrapped up the school year for my kids.  I escaped for the summer.  I returned for the school year.  I battled a sense of aimlessness and questioned my purpose.  I rediscovered a sense of ease in my life that was lacking for months.  I am feeling at peace, like I’m coming closer to a home that I’ve never seen but have been journeying toward for a long time.  

Where have I been for the last 9 months?  To be honest, I have been uninspired.   

This word has been floating around in my mind since July.  Uninspired.  All but unwilling to pick up a pen and journal.  Uninterested in picking up a brush to start a new painting.  Uninspired.  
It reminds me of a song I knew when I was growing up:

On the wire, balancing your dreams, hoping ends will meet their means, 
but you feel alone.  
Uninspired.  
Oh but does it help you to know that I believe in you?

There was something in these words.    

It wasn’t until I had time to be still at the lake that I began to feel life returning to me.  I had to admit that I had been frozen.  Frozen in fear of doing wrong and in unwillingness to make a mistake.  I was frozen by too many options and no one to show me which one to choose. No one to TELL me which way to go.  I didn’t want to be responsible for a wrong move, so I remained frozen in place.  
I felt I was thawing out and it was glorious.
It opened up my summer and made room for joy.  

I’m happy to be home.   

Saturday 18 January 2014

Trading My Chucks...

It almost brings tears to my eyes to even type that.  Indeed, the chucks are being demoted to the back of the closet.  In exchange?  I look at these dastardly beauties that I haven't worn in so terribly long and I wonder what has gotten into me.  
I'm going back to work... I'm going back to work...
I'm going back to work!

I know I shouldn't yell but I just can't seem to hold it in.  I can't say exactly what's at the source of the noise in my heart, only that it bursts out in deafening blasts.  
What I know is there's a lot of fear mingled in there:  
Fear of not being available to my kids all day, every day... 
Fear of not being able to remember how to do a job I haven't done in four years...  
Fear of driving myself to insanity by taking on too much...

So, WHY?! 
Somewhere under all this anxiety there also lies a current of anticipation.  Somehow, without any understanding or clarity, there's a sense of the ground moving beneath my feet...that I'm expectantly stepping out of my comfort zone, away from my safety net, with a big smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach.  The question is, what am I expecting?  
That answer is nothing, and in that void of expectation lies all the joy I've ever known.  
This is not mine to direct or lead or plan.  
This is not mine.
I do have a job, I don't deny that.  I do the work.  I relearn all that I have forgotten (or at least thought I had).  I smile.  I converse.  I commit my attention and my ability to the task in front of me.  
But above all, I confirm that I have to strength to remain "me" outside of the sheltered life I have lived for the past four years.  
It is in that I gratefully find my direction.  

I was not looking for this...
I had all but given up on this part of me and I had thus far been successful in avoiding it.  
Perhaps that's the exact reason it is the path I now walk.  
Here I go...

 "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children."
Romans 8:15-16 (The Message)