I Won't Let Go Of You

Fish the moon like an arrow
I’ll hold on to this narrow wire
I won’t let go of you
In the darkness of the moment
Nylon burns on the line of my fingers
but I won’t let go of you

You can be as strong as you like
For as long as you want
But I won’t let go of you

You can crumble into pieces
and fall over the cliff
but I won’t let go of you
I’ll gather all the pieces
until you find the magic glue
I won’t let go of you

You can be as brave as you can
As fearless as you’re able cos
there’s just no way, no reason
for me to ever, I just won’t ever
I won’t let go of you

So please
when you’re launching into darkness
know that
I’ll be waiting on the end of the line
cos I know
everything be alright in a little while
so please
keep on with the letting go of it and
know that
there is a patience that is long enough
cos I know
you’re worth it in the end, so hold on
so please

you can be as strong as you like
for as long as you want
but I won’t let go of you
so worth holding on to
I won’t let go of you

you can be safe and fearless even reckless
you can live out on the edge
cos I won’t let go of you
I won’t let go of you

Holding On To The Fringe
There are times and spaces when for various reasons, you feel like you need to move to the fringe. Or, people move to the edges when they’re in pain, broken, angry, hurting, tired, worn out. There’s natural process.. an anthropological history of retreat & recovery. These present days, the challenge is ministry to the fringe. The art of holding on so that others don’t have. Holding on so that others have permission to let go.

Where is my theological framework for this kind of ministry though? It feels human and natural, so my understanding of creation and humanity wants to allow for it. There are others who are prescribing counsellors and all sorts of healing methodology. So… for the wounded and the hurting the challnege is to create enough spaces on the fringe, that healing can take place whilst holding on to a continuous line. A thin fishing line that holds the thrashing, the tension, the struggle of the pain. A line to hope, a line to connection. It’s holding on while still allowing room for full expression, the heaving, groaning pain of grief, the torture of sorrows.

We concentrate so much on community that happens at the centre, but perhaps it is the community at the fringe where Christ is encountered most, in the shades of grey and the unknowns, when life isn’t easy, when community at the centre isn’t the answer.

What do you think?

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