in the stillness...

Flowers strewn across a casket...and the phrase that turns my mind over "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"...

We buried my grandmother this week, and as I held the fresias in my hand - my last bid at an earthly farewell - I caught a glimpse of our mortal life...so delicate and fragile - blossoming one moment and wilting the next. Life really is short...and we only have one opportunity...
And life inevitably goes on...a flower dies and casts its seed to the winds...a life passes away, and with it the torch gets handed down for the next generation to run with. We are that next generation.

The irony of the whole saga is that death can be a great time for reflecting on life...for being reminded about all the things we are blessed with...for being inspired to make each breath count for something. Believe me, this can be tiresome even for the most energetic and spastic of the bunch!
This week I had the blessing of a reminder - a little tap on my shoulder - that my race had not yet finished...I had to run with endurance...I had to stop letting life pass me by. I got the fresh air in my lungs of inspiration and direction. Sometimes that's all we need to get going...other times we need a solid kick in the pants! Ouch...I think I got that one too!
The weight of everyday living can be taxing on our emotions, our spirits, our vision. The mundane sucks us into a cycle that seemingly lacks purpose and fulfillment. But even in these dryspells of life where we seem lost and wandering, God is at work. God is moving. God is turning all things to good. He is teaching you how to live what you say...to trust...to be patient...to take you to the deeper level of understanding His love when everything in your environment begs to differ.
I am blessed...not always with the clear cut pathway I would like, but the step-by-step process that teaches me to live faith. To trust God. To know His character to the core of my being.
And His character surrounds me...in the thoughts and prayers of my family and friends...In the simple gifts of emails, flowers, coffees, and an awkward hug or two! Thank you so much for your encouragement. For your time. For your heart. For going the extra mile (or hour!) to show your support and the reality of God's family.
I love you all...

hanging on a moment...

Have you ever had the opportunity to sit at the bedside of someone who is dying? To watch their chest rise and fall in laborious effort, the humanity within them fighting for every last breath? It is a sobering reality...
This week unexpectedly found me sitting at the deathbed of my grandmother. In my hands I held 94 years - so fragile in the fading moment - and I was filled with wonder....wonder at the life lived. Wonder at the moments experienced in such a vast spread of years. Wonder at the legacy she was passing down to her children, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren.
Above my grandmother's bed hung a posterboard... a collage of black and white photos mixed with snippits of information of who she was and where she had been. In those quiet moments I wondered about the board above my own life. What words would capture my lifetime? What pictures would reflect my years? What legacy would I leave behind when my heartbeat slows to a whisper?
One thing that struck me, sitting in her room with but a breath and the warmth in her hands reminding me she still inhabited a place on earth, was time. Moments. Fragments of life pieced together that weave purpose and destiny. Sometimes we get so caught up in waiting on one moment, that we forget to live each moment. We look forward to the possibilities of so many things...starting school, forging new friendships, first kisses, experiencing the world, marriage, the birth of a child...monumental in thought - and yet at their passing, life does not stop. It is not over. It does not reach its climax, but rather these moments are joined by the next moment that fill the hourglass of life.
Over the past couple of weeks God has been opening my heart up to living in the moment. To not look so far into the future that I lose sight on today. To not put stock in one event in my life that it loses perspective to reality. As spontaneous as I am, I am fairly analytical and controlling of each one of my steps. Such thought has preserved me from falling prey to interesting situations, and yet it has also robbed me of enjoying the passing moment. It has brought intensity to each grain of sand I may be looking forward to falling. Life continues to spin its web...grains of sand continue to fall...and at the end of the day they will be a culmination of vague memories, and only one thing will matter...

bottlenecks
that squeeze the life
perfect and refined
in steady flow
a destiny
predictable
spirals downward

one grain
pressed on glass
betrayed
to swift currents
of passing time
swept into the sea
of falling moments

laid to rest
in pleasant burial
within the stream
of life itself
anticipated purpose
monumental
yet so small
simple grains of sand
continue to fall

Today my grandmother's grain of sand passed through my hourglass, and has joined the other moments of life that I have already experienced - each one part of my personal collection of the joys and struggles of living. She taught me to live life to the fullest...even when it may leave you a young widow, in a coma, dependent on others. She taught me what it is to age with grace and enjoy the little things...to smile in the face of adversity...to truly be content.
I was blessed to have had the opportunity to thank her...to sit beside her earthly body and honour her as she prepared to receive her heavenly body. To paint her fingernails one last time...
And in that moment of bidding an earthly farewell, I was graced with a gift. It was not in a weak smile, a squeeze of my hand, an acknowledgement that she knew I was there, the attempts of a whisper of love...physically she was unresponsive and slipping into another world. In the ambiance of that room there was the presence of a Father holding his dearly loved and life-worn child in his arms, and it was through her favourite book from the Bible, read aloud over her sleeping frame, that I received her farewell. Word after word stirred from the page as if she was speaking to me in the stillness of the moment.
And so I shall press on...I shall find joy in all things...I will continue to live boldly for Christ...and I shall continue the legacy that God has woven through your life.
I will truly miss you...may my life be as full!

silent nite

I'm home after another whirlwind trip - a culmination of 2 months of intense work, extreme life and stress meeting a weekend wedding in California. CRAZINESS...
And so the dust settles...and after 12 hours en route home to process life in general, I find I am in silence...a good silence...a humbled silence...an intimate silence shared with my God...
This is me...raw... honest... exposed...and I find this song playing over and over in my head:

Tired of telling you, you have me
When I know you really don't
Tired of telling you I'll follow
When I know I reallly won't
Cause I'd rather stand here speechless
With no great words to say
If my silence is more truthful
And my ears can hear how to walk in your way
In the silence
You are speaking
In the quiet I can feel the fire
And it's burning, burning deeply
Burning all that it is that you desire to be silent, in me
Oh Jesus can you hear me?
My soul is screaming out
And my broken will cries teach me
What your Kingdom's all about
Unite my heart to fear you,
To fear your holy name
And create a life of worship
In the spirit and truth of your loving ways
-Jason Upton

where I was...

How dark and cold the shadows fall
when eyes are closed in weariness
that has not sought its rest
in piercéd hands.
The path long lost in twists
and turns to thorny branch
of feeble strength
all of my own.
Each stitch, each step
unravels in a chaos
strung throughout the pattern
of endless sleepless nites.
Skin and bones
a hollow image
bears upon cracked lips the name
of One who brings the sun.
Forgotten - yet he holds the key
and sways the balance
mixed vinegar with words
"It is finished."