Tag: life

On the Porch

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It is at times like this that I wish my pen wrote with richer ink. It is a sad thing that so often does my mind take flight and dream on the sublime in the moments when the cares of life swoop in and remind me of other more meaningful tasks on which I really ought spend my time. Of course yes, it would be lovely to write. But shouldn’t you start dinner prep? The carrots and potatoes will not chop themselves, oh no. And what is that you say? You have a poem running through your mind that you’d like to put down to page? Well, I hope you have a decent enough memory, for now it’s time to take the car to the shop and take care of that nagging issue you’ve neglected for far too long. Why is it that the time which then presents itself finally for a creative purpose is then taken up by conversations with loved ones? Of course they are far more important than the words you wish to enshrine in this moment for eternity. Aren’t they? One can acknowledge the truths of which I’ve said above, but still the heart weeps for the lost moments. But are they lost? The moments of life, of chopping vegetables on the cutting board, of driving a creaking vehicle through the quiet autumnal beauty of the late afternoon, of laughing as your sister tells you of the absurdity of her day – are not all these the precious sands upon the shores that your feet walk day to day as you breathe deep this salt air and look to the brilliant blue of heaven? I would argue that to hunker down and bunker oneself in that longed for cottage on the English coast in order to write your magnum opus would in fact be a cutting off of self and denying those little moments that thrill the soul even if in the moment they seem just the same old same old ordinary ticks on the calendar that seems to never get any less full. A foundation has been laid and now the bricks are being laid on quietly but surely. These bricks are laid with care and each one lovingly put in its proper place. Without such bricks, what is the setting but a cold marble portico upon which a banquet of plastic dreams is cunningly set forth? No I shall not abandon this simple life. I will keep on laying brick after humble brick.

Still yet. Can we not find rich beauty in these small mundane moments? I would argue so, even now as I wait for my love to walk back through this door and cheer me with her voice this quiet November night.

Crêperie

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This evening comes at the end of a long day. A long day, which sounds like I may be complaining but be assured that is not the case. This is a day which has been long but full and I cannot refrain from praising my God who has poured out so many blessings upon my house! I shall not chronicle all the details, but I did not want the moment to pass this night without my looking to heaven in gratitude for my God who is and my God who does mighty works, even some for one as insignificant as I. And now I sit on the couch and rest. A roast chicken dinner (complete with potatoes, carrots, onions of course) is in the oven cooking away and in a bit it shall be dinner time. But now, I luxuriate in a few minutes in which there is nothing to do save sit and open a book and listen to some of my favourite classical music and thank my God for his saving grace that he has granted me. Be at peace my friends this night. Peace and love, always.

Grafted

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I walk down the lamplit path and wonder what lies at its end. For all I know, the promises that I have clung to will in fact crumble to dust in the light that a closer perspective sheds. We shall see shall we not. But I refuse to give in to fear. I know that my boots are faded and starting to fall apart now. I know that my hair is a bit more faded and sparser than when this path my feet began to walk. Yet there is still a wonder that burns in my heart and there is still a faint taste of cinnamon on my tongue that reminds me of when I sipped the wine back at the last waystation. I hold fast to these signs that point me back to what I have believed in and forward to what lies at journey’s end. I know that the hand that picked me out of the mire that I played in so many years ago is still yet upon me, though at times the pressure seems faint and the shadows play havoc with my sight. These are the times I hum to myself songs of promise and in the darkness those hallowed lines recite. For even now in the darkness I look to my feet and see a light. I am thankful that I do not need to trust in mine own wit or valor for the aid by which I hasten on. Instead I trust in another. And this other has proven to be a trusty companion time and time again. What more can I say now? I walk forward, step by slow step my feet fall heavily upon this cobbled path. My progress is measured more slowly now, yet when I read my old notebooks I’m reminded of how much my voice has become more true. It’s a wonder, divine miracle really. I lift my voice once more in song. And as I begin to sing my favourite, I hear the voices of others join in soon enough. Thank God I am not alone on this pilgrim way. Let’s hurry on now, my brothers and my sisters. Let’s continue to faithful be. See this path does not go on forever, though so often it seems as if that may be the case. There is an ending, a slow descent when the cobbles turn to sand and the path turns down to the river that runs so merrily. I cannot promise the crossing will be entirely pleasant. It is not always. Yet look and see! On the other side, see the mountain that rises in poignant counter-harmony. I do not see it yet with these eyes but I know it’s there from what I’ve read in these manuscripts that I hold so dear. I do so long to see it but not for the grandeur of its created frame. Rather I hope to see the one walking down its slopes to meet me, the one who found me when I was alone and crying, the one who grabbed my hand and pulled me up to walk this pilgrim way. This is what I long for, to hear his voice gently call me in the way shepherds call their sheep. I will answer as I answer every day now. My Lord my Jesus be near to me. And forever and always will I be.

Lo She Stands at the Door and Waits

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A sigh exhaled. A busy day nearing its end. A busy day, but a good day. Now the sausage pasta cooks on the stove, music softly plays and soon a book shall be opened. Or perhaps two, we shall see. It is good to sit down and rest, then I can say for certain. I lift my prayers to heaven, I say thank you to my Lord who sits on high above. It is good to rest now. It is good to rest now and still yet know for certain that someday true and complete rest awaits. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.

Sweeter than I Ever Knew

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This afternoon is simply gorgeous. Previously I started to talk about life and then began to wax philosophical and then – as seems to happen of late but no complaints – my words turned to wonder and praise. Really I seem incapable of writing normal life updates these days!! But I shall write a few random words of no consequence now before I attempt to write something a bit more poetic. As said previously (go one entry down/back) I’m here on the porch at EQ enjoying a perfectly scrumptious November afternoon. It is a little cold – but not too much, as I’m just wearing a t-shirt! – and the breeze is blowing and the late afternoon light is gentle and friendly and there are many people enjoying their coffee or tea and conversations abound and I could choose to listen but I am not as I’m writing of course and then Dani sits studying soteriology with her half-finished croissant as I write about things much less weighty. I will soon turn my pen to writing about things of truth and beauty and even perhaps my thoughts of God.

A lot of my writing this past year or two (or three?!) has been fairly flighty, I know. And I would apologise but I shall not because it has been my heart and I don’t think there is anything written that I would pull back if I could. Perhaps my heart has been full to overflowing for various reasons and so of course my words have been spilling out in ways that are not always comprehensible to those who sit outside on the porch and are not quite privy to the conversations within the house. So yes, my updates have not been as newsy and perhaps have been too poetic or random to please the random reader. I shrug and sigh but I will not apologise. I am also trying to strengthen my writing muscles and continue to write both poetry and prose in the hopes that one day God would use such for a purpose more than just to fill the pages of this online space. I don’t quite know all that I wish to write and share but I do feel at times as if I have more to say. Perhaps my words will just gather dust. It is the most likely outcome of course. Yet still I write and write and if I can strengthen (or at least maintain) my skills, perhaps my God shall grant me opportunities to write something that has the air of the grand and beautiful. I pray such, if it not be too bold to ask. Of course not, for I am indeed a child of the King!

And now, I cease from writing though I cannot promise this is the last entry of the day. Now, me and Dani are off to walk a bit more to enjoy the fading light of this gorgeous November afternoon.

Reclamation

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Hello friends! It’s a Sunday afternoon and I am here sitting on the porch of EQ wondering what I shall write. Is it 2022? Well perhaps not. But I do sit here now and reflect how fascinating it is looking back through the years and realizing how many hours I’ve spent in various places (like this coffeeshop!) and how I’ve changed and grown as my God has continued to work mightily in me. Sometimes I forget such and can only see the parts of me that seem to sit stagnant and still in the light of the fall. Yet it is good to sit back and reflect and look at my life as a whole and glorify my God as I realize that I am not the same man I was even a year ago! Praise be to God for his glorious grace and the many mercies he’s poured out upon me, his undeserving child! Sometimes I look at my outward circumstances and meditate on how they may or may not have changed. Same job, check. Same (close enough) living situation. Same attire (Pascal’s t-shirt, yup!) But then I look to my right and see Dani and my heart smiles and my eyes fill. Some things are not quite the same after all.

It is all too easy to let our hearts linger over those things that bring us anxiety and pain. And we cannot deny that there is sadness and suffering in this world and even in my heart, a reality that I am all too familiar with. But does the existence of such mean there is not also beauty, that perfection is necessarily impossible in this existence in which we find our minds moving? I would say not, though there are philosophical frameworks which would assert such. Instead, I would point out that the presence of an ill thing does not imply the impossibility of a good. Instead, the very fact that we recognize something as wrong means that in our frame of knowledge we seem to believe in the possibility of something being right. But what is true? That is a good question, one which it would do one good to ponder. I believe truth is not entirely relative, that though we may be shaped and formed by the environment and the historical moment in which we now exist, still yet there are solid realities that are firmer beneath our feet than we sometimes dare to think. This world is not all shadow and dust, though there is plenty of both. Instead, I look for the glimmer of that true light that I catch at the corner of my eye. I long to rest my hand upon an oaken pillar that testifies to roots deeper than these eyes can see. What is truth? That is a good question. As for me, I believe in the existence of a God who has revealed himself to us in a written word that has been passed down these many centuries. Some would call me foolish, some would call me fraud. I simply rest in that settled conviction that within me rests the spirit of God who has in actuality changed my heart and called me to be known and loved. I do believe that not that many years ago (as we count time) God himself walked upon this earth and spoke true words and then died so that I might be no longer blind but see. My eyes do not see as far as I would like at times. But no longer do I grope forward through the clammy fog of sneering unbelief. I bow my knees and look to heaven and with tears on my face I sing praises to my God who knows my name.

Beyond the Point

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At times it is tempting to slip into the same habits that you fit into so well yesterday and exclaim as you look in the mirror – it’s a new me! When it is of course true that in fact you are wearing something that is quite well used and perhaps even adorned with a new stain or two. Such it is when we get a bit too comfortable with patterns in our life that are not quite advantageous for the life that we so eagerly proclaim we wish for. But this is normal. Most of us have our blind spots and most of us have those hidden reefs that cause peril when we are not carefully navigating by those precious charts we should be more closely paying attention to. Is that not why we ought live with others who can see us as we are and point out those moments when we slip and stumble and laughing through our tears exclaim that we’re all right and say no perhaps not. Perhaps you’re not alright. And that’s alright. Or it’s not, but yet it is, for we walk not alone. Instead we walk through these valleys together looking to the west towards setting sun and though eagerly we look for the next way stop, we still sigh a bit knowing it’s not home.

And so if you have muddled through these mixed metaphors and deciphered anything of use therein, then I am grateful. But really I just want to speak plainly now and state how good it is that we need not live this life in solitary fashion. Of course it’s fashionable to proclaim oneself as self sufficient and capable and independent in all things. But alone we tend to wither and finally crack under the pressure of the burdens of this life. We need each other for we were not designed to live a life in which there was no communion with any other soul. We need a helper or a friend. We need someone with whom we can steadily share eye contact and it not be weird. We need someone to lift us up from life’s muddles when we veer a bit off track. And yet.

This need for a person beyond our own self existence points to a deeper truth that within us speaks to a void that cries out to be filled. What can fill this seemingly infinite hollow that nothing on this earth can fill? There goes that classic question which of course you know the answer to. If nothing on this earth can satisfy that longing in our soul it must mean we need look elsewhere beyond the setting sun. Even your closest companion or partner is not sufficient to satisfy that existential longing, is that not true? Eternity beckons. My heart aches with the knowledge that I was made for more than this finite life. All the history and poetry and philosophy I read testify in a thousand voices that in myself I’m missing something and there is nothing in the created order that can make me whole. Yet there is a voice calling, calling me to come. I know that voice. Do you hear it too?

Seven

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There are mornings that my very soul could sing for delight. This is one such. I am oh so grateful for small pleasures that my God has granted me. This morning, a leisurely lie-in and I didn’t have to leave my bed until after the sun peeked over the horizon and through our window shades. Oh bliss! Following that, a nice hot shower while the water boils in preparation for one of the most important ingredients for a good morning. Coffee. Of course it’s coffee. I was then able to meditatively take part in one of my favourite little rituals and make my aeropress coffee. As I waited for the coffee, a few minutes on the phone with Dad and then I prepared for the remainder of my morning before church time. TV on! But not for what you think – no TV programming or shows. Merely…switch on the youtube and find a suitable musical accompaniment for the day. Hilary Hahn playing Tchaikovsky? Yes please. Let me turn the lamp on next to my armchair and settle in with my Bible and books at hand. A while later, much had been read and much music enjoyed and the strong hot coffee enlivened my body while the readings that I had been walking through did their part in enlivening my soul. Surely I rejoice in the ministries of the Spirit this day. Perhaps I have talked too much of vain things at times. Even now, I name all these little pleasures and routines that are mine with perhaps too much joy. But are these simple things not still beautiful? I say so. And now it is time to go and worship with the people of the Lord. My brother and my sister, come with me. It is good for us to be here and rejoice in the lovingkindess of our Lord.

Timidity

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Hello friends! A bit tired tonight and thinking that perhaps my energy and mood are more suited for reading than writing. Alas as I was hoping tonight would be a night I could really open up a bit and just be random in my creativity (or lack thereof). As it turns out, do I really want to write? Not sure that I do. Or perhaps my energy is a bit sapped and I just need recharging. No walk today, as I have a pot of bolognese simmering and while future me (about 24 hours from now) will be very happy to be eating a lovely dinner of bolognese over pasta, current me is a bit sad that the aforesaid pot simmering situation has kept me in the apartment all afternoon and now evening and so no walk at all. Le sad. I think that when I walk and am surrounded by the glory of the day and various people going about their day, I feel that energy and beauty and it puts me in such a good place for writing. Does this mean that I can’t summon up internal energy and the muse if I do not have something from the external? Apparently this is a thing.

And really, what am I writing now? A lot of nothing. It happens to the best of us I suppose, so I shall not let it dim my mood too much. After all, I have a book I can sink back into, the apartment is lit charmingly with the lamp at the end of the couch, and I have a beautiful classical playlist on the TV just now. This is a night in which I can rest and so can I truly complain? I think not. And who knows? Maybe in a few minutes I’ll pull this laptop back out and finger the keys and see where my thoughts take me. The night is young after all.

Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.