That crazy, mixed-up, confused sense of disatisfaction. It comes uninvited, slicing through my self-esteem like a knife through butter. Trying to describe it is like chasing the wind. I hate it, but when it’s there, I do the best writing I’ve ever done

It’s always been here, we circle each other, eyeing ourselves warily, not letting our guard down. It’s part of me, and without it I’m not whole, yet I do not miss it, I welcome its absence whilst acknowledging its presence

If the post doesn’t make sense, neither does this strange yearning that creeps in. The only way to placate it is either writing or sitting in His presence. For I know that is where it comes from, where it is rooted. There are times I just want to be there for ever, I know I can’t stay on the mountain top, yet the valley holds no sway over me

Remind me who I am, Lord. Bid me follow you, to the desert, to the mountain, the quiet place where I reclaim my identity. For this sense is really a search, a longing to know myself and my place, but my place isn’t in this world. It’s with you

Shadows are falling
And you are calling
Come now and rest
At the end of the day

As the sun’s brightness
Gives way to moonlight
And weary souls
Wander to rest

I hear you calling
As I am falling
Into the blest
Haven of peace

When my eyes won’t close
Lost in my dreaming
Fretting about the morning
Remind my heartache
Your love is there

Cover my sleep
With your everlasting love
Remind me
Tommorow has not yet arrived

Hold me safely
Keep me close, Lord
When peril knocks
At my door

Rebuke the rage
As you did the waves
Calm the storm
Soothe my angry soul

For I am lost
Deep in distress
Floundering
I call
Save me!

It’s so easy
When the night
Makes trivia
Important

I don’t know
How to express it
Other than to hand it
To you

It makes no sense
Yet even if I don’t understand
This feeling
Yearning
Longing

It seizes my heart
Chains my words
Steals my tongue
For it is deeper
Than words can ever say

You know what I mean
Even if I don’t
I could live a thousand years
Yet never work it out

It’s a mystery
Why I even attempt it
I know I’ll never solve it
Yet false pride
Demands I try

Teach me
That all this raging
Steals my time
And my peace

Come, soothe me
Bid the angry beast sleep
Touch my soul
With gentle fingers
Of rest

Be the saving guest
At table
Sharing bread and wine
For I am your child
And you, Father mine

Love me
For who I am
Weary and broken though I be
All I need is to see

The pierced hands
The wounded side
In your embrace
I will hide

To find

My rest

A new adventure!

Today I’ve taken a step forward, and set up a shop to sell my new anthology as PDF

I think everything’s OK, but please bear with me as I try and start this new venture

The book is called A Cry in the Dark, and is available here

Wish me luck!

Stretch forth those pierced hands
To grasp my own
For I am lost
So alone
Without the touch
Of the sacred

Grasping
For the divine
My hands fall
Empty

Tired,
I let them fall
Surrender
Defeated
By my own hubris

Yet
I hear you call
Echoing deep
In my soul

The cavern
Where I dwell
Safe
From the judgement
Of an angry, shattered world

You bid me follow
The hollow
World holds no attraction
To me

All I want
Is to be here
With you
Where I come from
And where
One day
At the close of my eyes
I will return

Speak to me
In the pattering rain
The joy of the chattering sparrow
The dance of the curling breeze
Blowing papers down an empty street

Remind me
I am more
Than the sum of my days

My heart
Belongs to the divine
For I am divine breath
In human form
Love, walking on this earth

So often, I hide
Afraid
Alone
My light
Hidden

When I want to run
Bid me run to you
When I want to hide
Let me do so in your embrace
Shelter under your wing
And find rest

I know I still
Have to journey through this world
But remind me
That I can come
And rest
In You

When my head has had its say
When my heart has lost its way
When all is done, at end of day
You whisper in the silence

When the battle has been lost
And my heart had to count the cost
Of the love I thought I’d lost
You whisper in the silence

When I feel the sense of peace
That slowing down can release
And notice the anguish cease
Then you whisper in the silence

Teach me, Lord, not to shout
Not to rage, or storm, or pout
When my strength has all run out
Whisper Lord, in my silence

Remind me I am in your care
And you will always find me where
The sunlight meets the sea
And where you, Lord, find me
As you whisper my Name
Of the ending of my shame
Welcoming me home again
In the silence

How can I begin to even tell you where I am
When so often I don’t seem to understand
Or even if I stand at all?

It was easy when it all began
Life was open, innocent and free
When did those walls of fear and pain
Start closing in on me?

It was so simple then, or did I hide
Choosing to run inside
From fear that was always there

The running wore me out
The raging stole my sleep
Yet in my deepest anguish
Angels did their vigil keep

I can’t tell you it’s over
Because all I know is its begun
And somewhere in my heart
Healing has taken hold

One thing is for sure
The one who holds the cure
Is no stranger to me
Healing for the leper, curing the lame
Raising the dead

If anyone can mend my broken soul
It is He
If anyone can make me whole
It is He

How many times do we read in Scriptures, “the Lord is close to the broken-hearted”, or “The Lord hears the cry of the poor”? Noble words indeed, but in times of trial the last place the Lord seems to be is close. In these places, where do we go? What do we do? Is it wrong to feel that the Lord is nowhere to be found? Is it wrong to feel bereft, angry or numb? Is it wrong to rage at God? When my family was hit by illness I often felt him to be miles away

If we read the psalms, we realise that this not unusual. David cried his heart out to God, no matter his circumstances, the psalms speak of rejoicing, trial, suffering, victory and defeat. David was also conscious of his sinfulness and consequences. When he lost his son to Bathseba, he was honest enough to admit his infidelity and move on.

I decided, after experiencing the trials and anguish of watching all family illnesses pile up like a crash, that all I could do was hang on, it didn’t matter, in the end, whether I felt God was close, all that mattered was He was. No matter how I feel, the Lord is always there, emotions come and go, but He is always close. That’s all we have to remember, just trust and, step-by-step, move forward.

This poem was written when something very rare happened. I came to a decision, and Father David’s sermon echoed both my decision and the reason I took it. I swear he was telepathic when he wrote that homily.

I have struggled almost daily in the past nine years, trying to readjust to all the events, and work out how to carry on. Sometimes, I feel nothing has changed, but when I do, I am running from the truth.

Those events fundamentally changed me, the pain of watching others suffer wounded me. I am more shattered and broken than I ever imagined I could be. What I have to try and do, and this will take the rest of my life, is accept that I’m not the same. I need to accept my woundedness and brokenness and learn to move on through life. For the wounds and brokenness are painful, but not fatal, and I will survive and learn and grow, as I did before

So, without any further ado, here is the poem

Come, Wounded One

Come, wounded one,
Let me heal you,
Let my love seduce you
Lead you to a quiet place
To make you whole

The world
Wounds you
With a thousand
Tiny cuts
Each one
Deeper
Than the last

Do you know
Your beauty shines
My heart rejoices
In you
My child

When the world
Works its way
Into a weary heart
Remember I am
And who you are

Nothing else
Need concern you
Come away
And rest
In me
And we will be
One