I am running as fast as I can on the road that goes nowhere.
The Cheshire Cat lied as he smiled at me and said
If I ran long enough I’d get somewhere.
In this land where things are not what they seem to be,
I have forgotten who I am and where I am going.
If I don’t know who I am, then where do I go with all my running.
Who am I? A product of chance and the sod?
A dispensable taxi for disdainful DNA?
Does my life have meaning and purpose?
Or do I live to just pass DNA on?
Dust to dust, sending forth seed and then I am done?
If that’s all I am, then why do I run?
Why do I dream the impossible dream
Or try to reach the unreachable star?
That I am the child of the Most High God,
Named and treasured, loved and cherished,
Nothing random about me at all?
Is it that the impossible dream, the unreachable star
Is found in the place of rest within My Creator’s heart?
Why do I feel like I want to walk in a garden
Draw in the elusive fragrance of dew soaked earth
Haunting perfumes of fresh open buds
Wisping and weaving intangible rainbows
Blown in on teasing zephyrs
Caressing and lifiting the locks for a careless moment
Light as a butterfly
Then drifting on to invigorate another weary heart.
Today my heart rebels against being in a concrete jungle. True, as I look out of my windows I see more greenery and flowers than most urbanites are privileged to see. True, in my life I have been privileged than many people to visit beautiful gardens. I am trying hard to be satisfied. I am trying hard to be grateful. I am trying hard to be contented.
Whispers of past gardens
Steal out of dusty memory boxes
Stored sunshine and smiles
Teasingly tweak the toes of discontent
And ruffle longings awake.
Eden – perfect, complete, perfect shalom
Flaming swords blocking the path
Nebuchadnezzar’s famed hanging gardens
Pride, pleasure-seeking, luxury
Cloaking bitter oppression and tyranny.
Gethsemane – sleeping friends,
Gnarled olive trees bear mute witness
Drops of blood, a gut-wrenching act of worship
Father, Your will…
The garden of tombs, a stone rolled away
An empty tomb, a weeping woman
A Saviour who pauses and turns
To comfort, for in the heart of a worshipper
He found a garden
To delight and refresh His heart.
One thing I love about Munich is its hidden gardens. When one walks down the streets, it often seems one is walking past continuous blocks of buildings, without even a gap to separate them. Quite dull, regular and boring. Till the summer showers arrive. Then suddenly the air is full of elusive perfumes of flowers and herbs. In the beginning I was really puzzled how that could be since there was not a single flower in sight. Then I discovered that those sternly beautiful facades hid courtyards which housed lawns and gardens. Private. Hidden. For the secret pleasure and delight of the residents. Others are shut out. Till the rain and breezes reveal the hidden gardens beguiling and delighting the passerby.
Sanctified. Set apart. Consecrated. For the Master alone. Yet perfume spills forth to bless others.
My bride, my very own, you are a garden, a fountain closed off to all others.
Let the north wind blow, the south wind too!
Let them spread the aroma of my garden, so the one I love may enter and taste its delicious fruits.
Song of Solomon 4:12, 16
Writing and dreaming
Weaving and screening
Tower of Babel
Is it enough that I speak that which I can understand myself
Does it make sense to speak when no one else can?
Caught in a bubble that will not burst
Why do words mean what they mean?
Would thoughts matter if words don’t?
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word was with God
And the Word was God.
Slicing through the static and chaos of colliding waves
Came the pure, true words
‘Let there be…’
Light shone out of darkness,
Life came forth out of nothing,
A breath-filled fistful of clay
Took shape, moved, thought his first thought
Uttered his first word.
I wonder what his first word was…
My daughter’s first meaningful word was ‘Dada’
An imperious command
For her dad to stop in his tracks
And turn to her.
Did Adam cry out ‘Dada?’
Did God stop and smile and whisper,
‘Yes, that’s good!’
By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host. Ps 33:6
Fertile ground yet harvestless
Resting replete with memories of past harvests
Resting in hope of harvests to come
Resting in liminal purposelessness
Verdured with indiscriminate seed:
Weeds, thorns and grasses flourish
Here and there seed from harvests gone by
Push through the choking crowds
With ragged pride to deny any thought that this is abandoned ground.
Break up your fallow ground, and sow not among thorns.
Trapped in a darkness that hides each shape and form
How can I take a step forward?
How far is the wall up ahead?
Is there a wrinkle or fold over which I might stumble?
What snares lie before me?
I don’t know.
I don’t like the not-knowing,
The helpless feeling of no-control.
Stripped of all confidence
I feel each step forward
How do I know I have reached my destination,
Or strayed off the path into a dead-end?
My Father in heaven, He sees me.
He knows every trembling, hesitant step.
He feels the doubtful groping
And He draws closer than ever before,
His whisper breaks the hypnotic trance of my fears.
He sees me, He does not despise the weakness within me.
He holds me gently by the hand,
And He speaks His words of comfort and instruction
And leads me line upon line
Precept upon precept, along a path I do not know,
But ‘tis a path made bright by His Truth.
He enlarges my steps underneath me
And makes the rough places smooth.
My trembling heart is learning to trust Him,
To lean on His mighty arm,
To wait each moment upon Him
To find new strength each day in His love.
Then I will lead the blind along a path they never knew to places where they have never been before. I will change darkness into light for them. I will make the rough ground smooth. I will do these things for them; I will not abandon my people. Isa 42:16
Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved? … Song of Songs 8:5
Major learning through the last year:
- God does not despise me for not knowing the way. Nor is He impatient with my ‘blindness’
- God speaks. ALWAYS!!!!! He is never, never, ever silent. The only problem is that He does not give me the answers I want to hear, because I want quick fix solutions, I want to know the last page of the story. Hehehehe… I want to know where I am going so I can feel I am in control.
- God however is interested in the journey, in making sure each step I take is sure-footed and in the right path.
- God delights to guide me and lead me and lend me His arm.