Lenten {contemplate} {reflect} {repeat}

Thursday February 15th 2018 – mid afternoon

I did something really stupid today, nothing new in that.

I misspelled Lent.

The spelling I used was leant.

But on reflection, I think I might have spelled it right.

The verb to lean means to be in or move into a sloping position or incline from the perpendicular and rest for support against (something) or cause something to rest against.

According to UMC:

Lent is a season of forty days, not counting Sundays, which begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Saturday. Lent comes from the Anglo Saxon word lencten, which means “spring.” The forty days represents the time Jesus spent in the wilderness, enduring the temptation of Satan and preparing to begin his ministry.

Lent is a time of repentance, fasting and preparation for the coming of Easter. It is a time of self-examination and reflection. In the early church, Lent was a time to prepare new converts for baptism. Today, Christians focus on their relationship with God, often choosing to give up something or to volunteer and give of themselves for others.

Sundays in Lent are not counted in the forty days because each Sunday represents a “mini-Easter” and the reverent spirit of Lent is tempered with joyful anticipation of the Resurrection.

Lent is a time of digging deeper and drawing closer to the Lord, it no longer is a time of fasting, regret of sinning and asking for forgiveness in particular. Some people give up something they like and others try a new way of generosity, giving and volunteering. Over the years I have taken part in a photo a day, writing a day and reading a day through Lent. This year I had the feeling that God wanted something different in my response. But I wasn’t sure what it was so I just read the devotional and journaled and that is when I did the daft thing.

But in spelling Lent as leant. I pondered and thought deeply then relaxed because I think I got my answer God wants me to lean, to recline in his arms and I am happy to do so. So as I delve into this leaning I will share here as it happens.


take from me Lord

the things that aren’t of you

keep me close only to you

take out the idols of my life


take away from my sight

my thoughts, my lips

the things that block the way

that are of the world and not you


help me resist those things

only you and I know of

be with me as the stories

steal away my soul


the stories of the world

immersed in the culture

that captivate my heart

making me slave once more to sin


help me remember

who you are and who I am in you

the weak one, the broken

help me seek you once more


deep, deep, deep

is your love

deep, deep, deep,

in my heart I know, and,

more of you, Lord,

I thirst for more.

Hungry, thirsty I come,

once more to dwell in your love.

Satisfied, only in you, Lord

I am satisfied by your love.

Filling up, pouring out

desiring to stay with you

help me in my thirsting

draw ner in my hunger

as I long for you each day

help me be satisfied in you alone

remind me constantly of who I am in you,

keep me safe when tempters knock at my door

as fears come and overwhelm

in me alone there is nothing

no weapon or tool to dispel

but your love shines in the darkness

and protects me from the gloom.

together {joined forever}

this is dedicated to the person it is about:

I remember when we met

a book thrust into my hands

some time later a phone call

the beginning of a conversation.


nine years later I do remember this:

and all the other times in between

reflecting on how we have both grown

and pruned (severe pruning for me)


a mn, a shadow to begin

then needed a year later

a growing respect blossomed

today this is cemented


two years ago you both stepped back

allowing training wheels to come off – for a while

but a paradox of emotions from all

meant we were destined to walk

together for a hie longer


and yesterday, the prayer, the vision

cast once more upon the water

and today to see you both so hurt

I am so glad I failed last year.


Let us together, go forward

as collaborative dissenters like Peter or Paul

Susanna or John, with aesthetic please

sharing the gospel in spirit and truth.


red blue {turn and repeat}

the soundtrack of my youth was

the vacant puffy lyrics performed

by satin clad blokes and cheese

clothed lasses

occasional protest song broke through

the ones that made you think

’bout education and war

and how unfair it all was


grandad shined my shoes on Sunday

by Monday they were scuffed

Tuesday I had Brownies

and points were took off

I was not smart        enough


grandad’s box was blue

no, it was red silly girl

fairly certain it was blue, I sat on it for goodness sake

Don’t argue with me it was red, it was red.

like the cloud of anger in your head


flowers are red the protest song went on

always always red never any other colour

and I learned as a childthat when she

said red, it had to be red.


but I grew up

and I grew apart

I grew to know Jesus

and got a seat at his table

rainbow flowers fill my world

wwhy would I ever return to red?


Naming the child

I had a story of how my life began but it turned out to be only one perspective. As an embryo my name was Jill. But on arriving into the world my name became Susan. My sister is named after an old flame of somebody or other.

My best friend (when I was 4 and 5) had a daddy and he called me Sukey, She was called Catherine but he always named her as Polly. He was a sickly man, spent days upon days in bed, with a stone jar filled with hot water and a house full of medicine. He would sing the nursery rhyme of Polly and Sukey and kettles and tea. And we would dance and laugh around the bed.

The first and unfortunate nickname I was given – elephant features was replaced by most everyone when I hit 13 and I became The SoupDragon. One person still will call me soups but the one who named me took his life when faced with “child” type charges.

When at the age of 21 I became Mrs. Gallagher it was all a bit of a shock but all my people from then on named me Suzie up till now.

You see I don’t fit a name as such, Doris was convinced of Rosie and Heather thought Jessie was a good name for me and there was a nurse I worked with once had Noreen on her mind.

God named me via JA house in Milton Keynes. He called me steadfast and so in my head, I am steadfast and true, Susan as my daddy named me all those years ago.

One day the world, my friends, and family will catch up with my mind.




this is killing me

this is more than “sorry me”


O’ Lord help me

reach out and touch

O’ Lord in you my rest is found

I trust you, hope is found anew

touch me Lord I need you now

As I struggle

Once more on the floor

foetal sobbing today

I need your touch once more