How Long?

I love the Old Testament, the stories of men and women of God who mess up time and time again, but God never gives up on them, or us.
God waits for us.

And we wait for Him too.
The Presence chapter entitled I Wait is based on Psalm 130:
Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.
In the piece I wrote for it, I wanted the trace the idea of both us and God waiting through the old testament stories. And echo the fact that irrespective of how many times we mess up, there is always an opportunity to start over again.

How long? How long?
The cry echoes through the centuries.

Looking up at the countless stars,
waiting for the promised child,
a father waits for the birth of a nation.
He listens, misunderstands, makes mistakes, starts over again.

Impatience maps a trail
of wrong turns and redemptions
Deception repeatedly dividing brothers
as jealousy and fear sells family into slavery
Summoned to sit with kings
and growing as memories fade
Until the nation wins its freedom from oppression
only to wander the endless desert
and enter a promised land
where so rarely there is peace.

Looking up at a distant star,
waiting for the promised child,
whose death and resurrection whisper rebirth.
We listen, misunderstand, make mistakes, can start over again.

In the boat

I have been thinking a lot about boats these past few days.

I work in what was once a little fishing village and across the road from the office sail boats sit on the promanade ready for fair weather sailing. At the other end of the bay is a port where cargo ships come and go, when the tides are right.

I have never been on a sailing boat, nor a cargo ship. My own boating takes a rather different form - my parents, siblings and I have a canal narrow boat, 56ft long and about 7ft wide, which we take cruising around the English & Welsh canal network each summer. My children learnt to steer the boat when they were still quite young; because they were a little too small to properly see over the top of the boat to see where they were going (even when standing on a step-stool), they always had a grown-up stand with them. My parents named the boat "Shammah", from the name given to the city at the end of Ezekial: Jehovah-shammah, The Lord is there. Whenever I am on the boat, I am reminded that God is there. Standing with us.

And God is there in the various boat images scattered throughout the bible. Jesus may have been a carpenter, but he certainly had a lot to teach the fishermen who were his friends about boats.

From my musings, I wrote this boat-themed poem today. Especially for two of my friends.


We left the harbour long ago
path mapped out with calmness
from security, into the vast unknown.
But in open seas we are tossed
by relentless storms with pounding waves
and exhausted, we long for stillness.

We dream of dropping anchor
but inertia could tip the balance
drag us, drowning, under
So we keep on moving
patch the sails and plough on through
alone in the endless fog.

In the eye of the storm,
silence dares us to pause
and take note, we are surrounded.
Here we stand and face the storm
supported by a mesh of rigging
formed from a host of interlinking hands.

We stand together in the boat
holding tight to woven cords of truth
strong enough to take the strain.
Hope echoing through history;
above the earthquake, thunder, rushing wind,
comes the gentle whisper.

He stands here with us,
commanding the wind and waves,
beckoning us on;
Be still.
Step out in faith.
The Lord is here.

Woven

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me... 
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
(Psalm 139)


I know there to be truth in these words, and yet it would be wrong to pretend that it is always easy to believe that I am wonderfully made. I have a tendancy to be a bit of a perfectionist, and can be very critical of myself; I find it easy to focus on my failing and flaws. Amongst the wonderfulness, there are dark places and pain and tears. But, as I have grown, I am slowly starting to recognise that the things I once saw as weaknesses in me are often vital threads in the essence of my being. The fact that these things are woven into my life was not a mistake; they help to make the emerging pattern that is me.

Creator God

Creating.

In the unseen places

Flesh and bone, muscle and nerve

Knitted perfectly

To your unique pattern.

In the secret places

Joy and sorrow, hope and peace

Woven carefully

Through our unfolding days.

In the dark places

Pain and tears, laugher and love

Sewn deliberately

Life's tapestry develops.

In the waiting

Still Creating

God in us.

Heartbeat

Last week I mentioned Andy Hunter's Presence Project - a creative app that weaves together music, film, poetry and photography to deepen people’s connection to God. Over the years I have been involved in the project and written a number of poetic reflections that you can read, and listen to, on the app. This week, I thought I would share them here too.

Heatbeat was my response when I first heard Andy's music for the Over the Water chapter, based on Psalm 29 v3: "The voice of the Lord is over the waters...".  I was struck by the background beat in the piece that amplifies and changes, and yet somehow remains constant. It made me reflect on how I hear God's voice and my own faith journey - faith, for me, has always been a contant but within the certainty there have been questions and challenges and dreams and changes. Faith changes, flows and grows. Faith is like a dance.

I recently came across an article by a Canadian rector, Alastair McCollum, who put it beautifully like this:
I personally like the image of faith as a dance – it involves movement, it’s dynamic, energetic, constantly changing. Yes, there are certain steps which are named and have a certain form – but there is also room for improvisation, exploration, leaping, falling, quietness, joy, exuberance, discovery.
And like any dance it doesn’t have to be explained, in fact to reduce it only to words would strip it of the power, and the beauty, challenge, and wonder that it possesses. 
And in the dance, I learn to trust in the music, the movement, my partners, as I allow myself to fully join in with the attempt to add shape and purpose to the steps of my life, and to invite others to join in order that we might be transformed and transform the world with God’s life.

I heard his heartbeat.
A child held tight in Father's loving arms,
Knowing safety,
Shielded from the storms.
In the closeness the beat was unmistakable.
Dependable.

I heard his heartbeat.
Stepping out in faith and hope,
Dreams soaring,
Growing in the rhythm I knew so well.
In the walking the beat was steady.
Strong.

I thought I heard his heartbeat.
I knew my Father,
Walked with him,
Re-telling the stories from my youth.
In my remembering the beat was unchanging.
Predictable.
Fading.
Dull?

Did I hear his heartbeat?
Was that the beat I knew?
It skipped a beat.
Pulsating patterns,
Unpredictable.
Untamed.
I cannot assume routine within this rhythm.
I can only stop and listen,
Breath held,
Heart pounding.

I have heard his heartbeat.
And it now dares me to dance.

He
Dares me
To dance to his heartbeat.

So together we will dance.
Ballerina-like with powerful precision
Each step guided with easy grace.
Until I dance with freedom.
Movements flowing like ribbons caught by the wind.
Ripping across the calm waters.
Cartwheeling,
Like a gymnast moving corner to corner across the mat,
But I will not stop there,
God is not confined by the boundaries set by man.
I will dance my dreams again.
Spread my wings,
and fly,
moved by the wind,
carried over the waves.

This is his heartbeat.
This our dance.
Ever constant.
Ever changing.

Be Still

It's been a busy week. With lots going on both physically and in my head. This morning at church we were challenged to think about the voices that we listen to.

It's something that I was thinking about earlier this week too, and thinking back to a poem I wrote when Andy Hunter was just starting the Presence Project. One of the early chapters was based on Psalm 46 v10, "Be still and know that I am God".  And I wrote my own poetic reflection in response to his music and this verse.

I have always loved lighthouses - the image of the light flashing in the dark to show us the way and stop us running into danger. But lighthouses are a little more complex than a just a flashing light. Every individual lighthouse emits a distinctive series of flashes known as its characteristic. Ships at sea can time the intervals between flashes in order to identify which lighthouse they're looking at. It's not just a warning message, it's a location message, and with this location information any lost ships can then determine where they are too.

I think that it's sometimes the same with us and God. Knowing where he is helps us to determine where we are... but we have to stop for long enough to look at him and decipher his message, the characteristic he's showing us.

The lighhouse near where I live, Mumbles' lighthouse, has a characteristic of 4 white flashes and a pause every 20 seconds. This poem ends with the message I hear every time I look at that lighthouse flashing in the darkness.



So many voices crowding in
   So many voices
voices crowding in
           crowding voices
   so many...

When the chaotic voices crowding in
drown out the silent whisper
I need to hear,
I grab my bike and head to the shore.
There the untamed waves come crashing.
Head down,
and pedalling hard,
I can feel the power of the storm -
Within.

Until I pause.
Stop.
Look up,
look out
at the vastness stretching to the sky.
Insignificance makes me feel safe
There is something greater than I.

And piercing through the darkness
I see the unmoving beacon
Flashing out its own unique sequence.
Its message to the lost
and seeking.
Calling “look this way...
Know – I – am – God. Stop.
Know – I – am – God. Stop.
Know – I – am – God.”