Lord… you have heard the words of the poet behind every beauty there is some kind of pain my burgeoning labour weighs heavily on me with the unanswerable questions like “why do you believe?”
I have no answers but a voice that sounds like yours it’s a voice on the wind it’s the summer i long for it’s the hope in the picture i’m painting where late summer sun will warm my skin again please let me not be cold that long
Lord… you know the wrestle of my heart unseen the knifeblade of decision that sharpens on integrity where is my justice Lord, where is my hope? I have rested in your strength these years but i am weary, the skies darken over me You are not weary Lord, uphold me
everlasting one, draw near to me and i will yield to you make my confessions of longing and hold on to my breath catching my tongue on tears, kneeling on fist, head to floor oh in this moment not to be alone not to be in silence, not out of arms
and here is my whole heart and vision falling under shadows here is my will submitting Where is my justice Lord, where is my hope? what now for the people? what now for tomorrow? what left is sacred, what is left?
Wash the mud and spit from my eyes, heal my sight wash the mud and spit from our eyes, heal our sight make uncertainties clear, truth to light from fear the many, make simple, make few, make right… make You.
We work on the corner of Symonds St, Mt Eden Road and New North Road. We have several excellent coffeehouses in our immediate vicinity. We’re just up the road from Mt Eden Village, and from K’Rd. We’re equally as close to Kingsland and Newmarket. What’s all the geography go to do with it?
Well, in the small trapezium formed between those reference points, live and work lots of people that we know. I love the ritual of the drop-in, the treats run, the lunchtime coffees and the ‘walking’ route that leads me past the doorways of friends and others who are all in business, life, ministry and habitation in the vicinity of one another.
It seems to me to be good practice, to know the names and lives of the people at Altezano, at Canteen, at the various workplaces around here. It seems to me to be good practice to know the names of the homeless who make shelter around our office building. It also seems good practice to intentionally walk, and take notice of what is happening around us. More than just the changing billboards or street posters, but the businesses that open and shut, the parking wardens who get this round. It helps to feel grounded and connected to the “real world” that happens outside the office door.
For those of us that are in business literally ‘together’ (as much as location joins anyone together by proxy) – it is also good to be the presence of sanity and joy.
So, while I am waiting for my communal house or for my holistic community to grow.. I can at least take comfort in my holistic, communal work environment. Learn more names, greet more familiar faces. Make everyone feel like a regular in your world. That is the extension of the arms of Christ.
Confession I can’t say too much more without spoiling the surprises but… suffice it to say..
I have been thinking a lot about the connection between secrets, secret lives, fantasy, sin, silence, darkness, hopelessness for young believers and Confession. I think that the Prodestant church has not excelled in providing a response to sin that expresses appropriately the grace, mercy and forgiveness of Christ.
After all, the Bride is designed to be the instrument of God’s grace to one another. But if we whisper our confessions in quiet, solitary prayer and let our tears fall alone – where can we hear the sacred words… you are FORGIVEN?
How much too, does our understanding of our forgiveness – the weight and the sanctity of it, affect our participation in Communion rituals? Thoughts welcome.
Being Seen So, as the exterior things change – the interior things are brought to light. I see more of myself and I’m letting more of myself be seen.
Also, it shows you something of the eyes people have. Some people have eyes that see everything of who you are, to the depths of you. They don’t recognise your skin as much as they recognise your soul.
Others have eyes that only see the skin, the colour of you. I thought that as I saw people for the first time in months and they recognised the changes in me, that I would enjoy the surprise. But I enjoy more… the lack of it. I enjoy that they recognise me by my eyes and by my laugh first, before they take in the changes on the exterior. It’s good to be known by your soul.
Song Of The Moment : Watch Over Me Bernard Fanning
when trouble fills my world you bring me peace you calm me down you’re my release when walls come crashing around my feet you light my way you’re my release
so say you’ll watch over me when i’m in too deep tell me you’ll always be there to pull me free
when the sun is beating down upon my brow you are my shade you cool me down every time i tried to turn away you brought me ’round your humble way
so say you’ll watch over me when i’m in too deep tell me you’ll always be there to pull me free there to rescue me
for every time you sheltered me from harm you showed me truth kept me warm every time you left me on the street i found my way i found my feet
so say you’ll watch over me when i’m in too deep tell me you’ll always be there to pull me free there to rescue me there to pull me free there to rescue me
One Bag, All My Possessions..
I’m in an interesting phase of life, where all the clothes I possess in the world fit into one bag. And that’s absolutely everything to do with being dressed, including toiletries, hairdryers, bits and pieces including 2 pairs of shoes.
And it’s not a very big bag. In fact, excusing toiletries thanks to the ridiculous rules, I could carry all the clothing-related items I own onto the plane I’m travelling on in October.
When I’m at home – they could all fit into one drawer, and it’s not a very big draw.
I really, really like the simplicity of this. I live in a small house with crazy old wallpaper and no insulation. I live with old furniture and hand-me-down things. The only things I have in excess are CD’s, art supplies and books. Oh, I like it very much.
Rodney Hide has just published a book called “My Year of Living Dangerously”, where he reflects on 12months of fitness turnaround and taking new risks and challenges.
Today has been a day of living dangerously – I pulled out in front of a truck this morning on my way out of Attwood Rd. I made a calculated judgement to nail my foot to the floor and my heart was left slightly in my mouth. Afterwards, I was a little concerned with how easily I decided to slide right close up on the knife edge.
Then this afternoon, I did it again, deliberating deciding to take the smaller gap than waiting for the truck to pass. I’m a little perplexed – because I wasn’t in any kind of hurry, so why did I so willingly push myself to the limits of safety?
I think I wanted to feel the rush of being on the edge – even in a small way, just to feel a little more alive. I liked the intensity of the moment – but I’m amazed I let myself go to that place.
Rodney’s book talks about living a little more dangerously every year, and every year after that. So maybe my inner self is recognising too much comfort and safety and not enough danger. Maybe it was Sam’s inescapable values-driven life on the edge lifestyle that made me envious and enthused.
I’m committed to life on the knife-edge .. in the uncomfortable place, because that is where everything happens – it’s the safest dangerous place to be.
There were moments today of sheer joy, revelling in being able to find space to laugh, grieve, question, journey, be challenged by and delight in the company of good people. You are a more than good blessing.
When i was younger – about 14, and just returning to the Church in my heart, at least.. I read Psalm 37, in particular this verse:
Psalm 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.
For some strange reason, when I first read it, and everytime I have read it since I cannot help but thinking initially that the writer is referring to God literally giving us the desires of our heart. That as we delight in the Lord, our heart desires that which the Lord directs us, or gives us to desire.
How I managed to arrive at that as a young girl with an inevitably broken heart (broken by life, I might add… and later to be healed by life).. well, I’m not sure. The memory of that understanding came to me today though, over a long black as we talked about prayer, and the answers.
Prayer isn’t to be simplified to an asking | answering transaction. There is prayer that meditates, prayer that repents, prayer that listens, converses, argues, laments, pleads, adores, gives honour … and then there is the supplicatory prayer.
The prayer that asks. There is no moment that I can think of more intimate and yet more violated in some ways, than the moment of asking. We violate because we are still learning to pray and be satisfied with desires that are unanswered, and prayers that do not bring light, peace, hope or satisfaction. At best, we content ourselves with prayers that hope for understanding and the ability to accept, if nothing else.
To pray honestly and ask for the very things that we desire from God, must almost be the most human and honest prayer we can offer up. In that moment, there must be some new intimacy with God – where we are open with our weakness for the most unworthy or unrighteous of our desires, alongside our holy and courageous requests.
None of this provides a satisfactory answer for the unanswered prayer – our deep fear, our endless struggle. Proverbs 3 pleads with the wisdom in us, not to lean on our own understanding and yet it is our understanding of God’s ways that is mystified by the unanswered prayer. And the longer it sits with us, the more we become afraid to ask for it again, eventually becoming afraid to ask for many things.. and we lose the intimacy that comes with childlike faith to ask.
So many of us never ask for what we truly want because we are afraid that we do not really know what we want, therefore may get the request before heaven wrong.. leaving us either with a result we did not truly desire or with an unanswered prayer. But what I wanted when I was 10 is very different from what I wanted at 20, and what I desire now.
In equal parts, my prayer is shaped by my honest desires .. and my desires are shaped by my prayer. How does that happen? Certainly not by agonizing over my requests and judging their merit. Nor by withholding the foolish, momentary wants that my flesh craves from the heavenly One. If my Father would know me, then he must truly know all of me – the carnal, tortured parts of me, along with the justice-driven, mercy-drenched parts of me. What truth is there in my everlasting prayer conversation with God, if I close my mouth to what is unholy so my heart can still desire it in silence.
No, God – come into the depths of all those desires. Answer and leave me in silent unanswered oblivion until all parts of me are content to be uncomfortable without answers, with human and heavenly desires, with fear and faith all at once.
That which I once desired has passed into nothingness. My heart longs more for what is closer to the hand of God now, than when I was younger – because the desires of my foolish heart were left unanswered. My unanswered prayer led to my holier one.
So why – does God not answer prayer and why do we not pray more for the desires? I ask for strength to accept both, in blissful misunderstanding. May I delight in my honest conversation with you God, and find my desires become more and more like yours each day.
Tash McGill is a broadcaster, writer and strategist who works with people and organisations to solve problems and create transformation. She believes people are the most important thing and that stories are powerful ways of changing the world. You can find out more at tashmcgill.com or by visiting her LinkedIn profile.
