Hello my friends! I sit here in a random coffeeshop this hour. Or actually not so random. Antidote, long time no see. I believe it’s been years since I’ve actually sat here with my laptop to write. It’s strange to be back again but also kind of homey and I have now realised I need to come here more often. Mayhaps you will fill this hole in my cosy coffeeshop craving heart that has not fully healed since the closing of EQ. We shall see. But for now? It’s kind of nice to feel comfortable and at ease in coffeeshop with partial grunge/industrial vibes. I’m weird I know, come out and say it. Anyways! What shall I write? It’s a luxury this afternoon, I have a bit of unhurried time in which I can simply sit here and write and/or read and I don’t have anywhere I have to be for a few hours. What is this wonderful gift that has been granted me!? So I sit here now with my hot decaf americano and sip slowly, grateful for a fully-charged laptop, a beautiful upright chair (why is back support so important these days – I suppose I am not in my 20s anymore…) and the beautiful buzz of background conversation that makes me feel as if I am in the midst of people living their lives and talking about drama and I feel most assuredly that as I type here and now I am not alone. Well, of course I know that and generally I do not give in to melancholia (please no one call me a liar, especially please don’t quote any of my poems), but sometimes the silence that comes with sitting in your own room can make one feel a bit claustrophobic and manic at times. You know? Is that just me? Hm. I have forgotten how alive I feel when I write at a coffeeshop. Of course all this typing now is just nonsense stream-of-consciousness perfectly geared to warm up my writing muscles and relax my mind in order that I might more sweetly seduce my muse into giving up some of her charms to me this lovely December afternoon. We shall see how successful I am and I am most certainly not promising anything profound. But do I enjoy writing just for the sake of it sometimes? A thousand times yes, even if nothing productive or beautiful results. So I make up the tenth person in this small coffeeshop (not counting barista – for some reason, no one ever does count the barista, hm) and as I sweep the small confines with my gaze, I feel my heart warm as I consider these wonderful men and women whom I share this space with this day. I wonder what their heart fills with as they sit here breathing the same air as I. I ponder what dreams rage within their hearts as their faces flush with anticipation for what their soul longs. For me, I am grateful that I can in peace and quiet write a few words. I feel my heart slow and my mind still as I prepare to enjoy this most beautiful afternoon. Peace and love, my friends.
Tag: life
A Lamb Shakes Her Tail
A fine December morning dawns. Well, almost dawns. I believe it is still dark at the moment yet I know the sun is hovering just barely off stage simply waiting for her cue. I have no doubt we shall witness her entrance soon enough. As to the now? I thought I’d just pop in for a second and write a few words on my latest book before work begins in earnest. Grateful that this work week is not going to be long – hello vacation my old friend! Soon. Soon. Hopefully the take off this week leads to much writing. No promises. Now enough rambling.
82. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. A week or so back I decided that I really felt in the mood for a proper Christmas-y book to welcome in the Christmas season. And…is there really any better book than this one? I think not, even if there is no snow falling in my present climes. I forgot how much I love this book. It never ceases to warm my soul. And I’m pretty sure each time I read it, I discover new nuggets of truth and beauty. Lewis tells this tale with such simplicity and wonder, I dare say I’m almost jealous of his skill in such. There is much in this book to recommend it, not least that it points to deeper and greater truths that make this heart swell with joy. I love this book and I’m now contemplating whether or not I should read it every Christmas. This is one of the greats.
Let Us Sing in Harmony she Said Eagerly to Me
The vegetables have been chopped. The chicken thighs are roasting in the oven. Soon enough I will heat up the stove and begin the process which shall presumedly end in a delightfully yummy chicken and barley soup. For now though, I can sit here and blissfully rest. I say that as if I have been strenuously working all day, which is most certainly not the case. Still yet, I am grateful for this moment. Dani and I had a lovely walk here there and everywhere (a little over 4.5 miles I believe) and oh how wonderful was it to enjoy this early December day in all its shy beauty! The fading evening light washed over us as we walked and it did my soul good to breathe in the wintry air this day. Now I think perhaps a book is about to be opened. Multiple books even. The candle is lit, as is only proper. And soon enough the scents of chicken soup shall waft their way throughout our little home and I shall then – even as I am now – sing praises to my Lord. Too often do I forget that all these things that have been given me come from my God. On that note, I am away. My soul thrills to to read a few words now on Christ and his marvelous work for me. I sit at the foot of the cross and weep for love.
Wedding Feast
Good morning friends! A cold morning dawns here again and again I am most certainly not complaining. This December has been delightfully and most properly cold and my only regret is that I haven’t had more time to walk here and there and everywhere to enjoy it. Alas. Work is busy as always and it pains me that I also haven’t had more time for writing. Hopefully soon? Next week I have time off and so I do have hopes that there will be time for writing! And reading of course, always.
Speaking of reading, been enjoying a few minutes reading in my latest book – “The Everlasting Righteousness” by Horatius Bonar. Always love a good book by an old Scotsman. And this book is certainly a splendid one, encouraging and full of rich truths and oh so good for my soul. The chapter I read aided my reflections on the death of Christ and His work on the cross and the many staggering glories that are revealed therein. We do not consider enough the majestic beauty of the work of Christ! I wish I meditated more on such and hence it’s helpful for me to read books like this that draw my gaze upwards. Yes, it’s good to read books that are silly and fun and creative from time to time (trust me, I read plenty!), but do I also consistently and deeply drink from books that contain and proclaim the truth about God in all his manifold glory and beauty? I strive to. And so today as I must soon dash off to work and all its assorted stresses, I pause a moment and think on Christ. I consider Jesus and sigh in awe that he lived and died for me. I meditate on the fact that this same Jesus rose again in power and glory testifying to the finished work and the efficacy of such and the fact that the salvation I have is perfect and the inheritance I have will never tarnish nor fade and is kept in heaven for me forever and that one day I shall gaze upon this same Jesus with my own eyes and rejoice with thousands more as we sing glory glory glory to the Lamb!
Consider the Good
Outside all is cold and dark. Inside? The Christmas lights twinkle and a restful evening is at hand. About to get some chicken soup cooking on the stove and then read for a bit. I think with the Christmas season beginning, a re-read of “Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe” is in order. Excited to rest and enjoy the goodness of the Lord in these small, simple blessings that are mine this evening. Be well this night, my friends!
Tidbits
A lovely Thanksgiving morning here. Slept in past 630am, which is almost unheard of these days. Showered, got the coffee going. And then although usually I would sit in my cozy corner chair and have my quiet time, could I pass up an early morning Thanksgiving walk when it’s as glorious outside as it is? A beautiful 48 degrees when I stepped outside, coffee mug in hand. Down the street I went and then meandered my way down the MKT trail heartily enjoying the fresh crisp air, breathing deep and feeling gloriously vibrantly alive. I confess I don’t enjoy many things more than an early morning walk in the cold, sipping fresh hot coffee as I go. And there’s something about the early morning walks that bring out the best in people. Usually when I walk this trail, though the people watching is superb, one doesn’t address people as they pass. But early morning times feel special, as if we are all part of a private club that knows these times are the best times to be out and about and walking and that everyone else is missing out, really. So down the trail I walk, exchanging smiles and good mornings with the people I pass. There are many joggers of course, and a few dog-walkers (like the young mom and child that I pass as they let their dog sniff and take his time) but there are also walkers like me, enjoying the excuse to wear a warm hoodie and walk down the trail this lovely Thanksgiving morning. Eventually I reached my usual turning point and I turned around and began walking back home. I was stunned anew by the beauty I saw above and around me, seeing the leftovers of the sunrise strewn across the eastern sky. Homeward now! No less beautiful was this leg of the walk even though now my heart felt full to bursting. Prayers were said and more smiles were exchanged with the walkers that I passed. Soon enough, my legs found their way back inside the house, where somehow the apartment had done such a good job holding its residual heat that I felt I was stepping inside an oven! A 20-degree differential will do that, I suppose.
Now I finish the remnants of my coffee and think it’s time to brew another cup. Soon enough the Dani will wake and then we will begin to think of walk round 2. But for now, I will enjoy the flickering candle on the table, the Tchaikovsky playing in the background and soon a book upon the lap and a hot mug in my hand. I have oh so many things to be thankful for this day.
Sunward
A lovely Thankgiving Eve is at hand! Finally oh finally a cold front approaches and it appears we will have near perfect weather the next few days. Highs in the 60s and lows in the 40s? Yes please. And the sun shines! It very well may be a bit silly how happy such glorious weather makes me, but I will not deny such. Many long walks await!! And now I enjoy sipping on my coffee and preparing for another day of work, knowing that work is good and all that but…also grateful that this is my last full day of work for a good few days. Looking forward to a Thanksgiving holiday here with Dani in which we shall make far too much good food and enjoy wonderful rest and the bountiful gifts we have been given. At times we all over-complicate our lives, do we not? So in this Thanksgiving season, I long to pull back a bit and spend unhurried time on that which truly matters – devoting myself to those whom I hold most dear and luxuriating in quiet times of prayer and praise to the God whom I love so. Praise God from whom all blessings flow indeed.
On the Porch
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
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
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.
