The Christmas Bauble

Bauble shards glimmered in the cold light

Tinsel strewn in ancient ritual

And only an hour before they all arrive

Mary sat amongst the broken glass

Her arm skewed in a ragdoll way

The rainbow of colour danced across her face

In a cruel waltz that reflected her life

Jamie stood in the doorway

Smirking down at the mess

And his wife broken before him.

 

The family arrived into a tidy, clean house

Mary’s arm strapped up for now

Even the gravy did not belie

The undertones of the house that day

They chatted and gossiped about sundry and all

Jamie was mine host extraordinaire

Mary the cook, barely sat down

When it was time for the contingent to leave

The tree looked elegant sans baubles this day

As everyone ignored the nuance and tone.

 

 

 

granny’s garden

 

the dying daffodils reminded me

of a long ago tended garden.

Each flower had a place

Reds on the left and yellow to the right

 

Granny pulled their heads off

and stomped on each stalk

frenetically each day she roamed

the rows of yellow daffodils

 

grandad could kill nothing,

not even a slug so he slunk

behind and gathered the leaves

tying them all together

with ribbons of concern

weeping as the willow by the pond.

 

I used to think granny hated

like hated every thing

but I think she was broken hearted

for the man she knew before

 

Grandad’s heart was aching

for all the men he’d known

who laid down their lives

in the war to end all wars

 

Granny played a lot of things

taking the role of winner

She hated the name granny

Preferring formal Grandmama

 

But I loved this statue of

ice cold tendrils

I was never scared like the others

She brought fear to every one

But I heard her pray once

For me and R and J

And for the two H’s in her life.

 

Two broken hearted people

Living in a box

Unable to talk or even to listen

Forever bound in silence

On reflection of the pond’s surface

Of a childhood long ago

The only way they could converse

Was having red on the left

And dying daffs on the right.

omelette face

eggs crashing on the supermarket floor

face smashing into the bathroom door

Will it ever end?

toddler screaming for one more bar

girl shrieking – the loss of more hair

Will it ever end?

the shelves full of hopes and promises

the lies and deceit of joyful fists

Will it ever end?

fresh meat pertly pink in cellophane wrap

new bruises – spectrum exploded on facial map

Will it ever end?

row upon row of parting with money

line upon line of smarting agony

Will it ever end?

One day will I rise up

and say – enough, no more

Will I glide along shelves pouring rubbish in my trolley.

One day I will rise up

and say – enough, no more

Will I be punched and kicked and torn limb from limb.

~~~

The hushed tones behind the fluttering curtain

The eye tries to wake

The limbs try to move

The mind tries to grasp

as the green sheath cocoons

the broken body

~~~

the news reported an arson attack

on the giant of surpermarketing

a girl was in hospital, no other injuries

~~~

the man came, full  of charming patter

that did not pass the chaplain’s muster

in the middle of the night

Salesian Agnes took the girl

And wrapped her in blankets and quilts.

~~~

the arson attack caused little damage

setting fire to oneself causes different scars

to hide the ones made by prince charming

Agnes soothed the brow

She ladled soup

and the girl, me,  slowly walked… away

workshop rambling

I can’t fault you, you know your Bible well. Sure you quote it to me when you tell me I’m wrong, when you tell me I’m defective. I know my Bible too, I just don’t make it into an arrow and quote it back at you, mate, I live it.

So as you rebuke me, I love you, as you correct me, I love you, as you kicked me out your sacred building, I still loved and love you.

All scripture is God breathed, I agree my friend, but not because you say so and not just the bits you find palatable, and believe it or not I am accepted, not by you obviously but by the true and living God.

I do love you, there is no bitterness or smarting in my words, I love you, my friend, I do.

This is part of a monologue that was presented at a Local Preacher seminar earlier this year. It’s voice is left to the imagination, maybe it is yours. As I wrote it out today I was thinking of Helen Blogs and how church can hurt people.

Jesus came and died so we all could have a personal relationship with the loving Father, so we could bring all our guilt & shame & sin, everything that we have done & everything that has been done to us and can bring it to the Cross and we can lay it down and we can repent of our straying ways and we can accept the beautiful forgiveness that is offered for free. Jesus didn’t come so some people can feel so excluded – look at who he hung around with, look at who he conversed with, look at who he loved.

We are invited to come, we are invited – not just a blanket junk mail invitation…

BUT

a very personal invitation, handcarved/handwritten with our very own names etched in the invite.

So how can we be so exclusive that some people are not only uncomfortable with our comfortableness but we hang necklaces of ‘not welcome’ around their necks. We give them letters of unwelcome. We hide our secret bits in suits of respectability.

If we are following Jesus then maybe we should take a leaf out of his address book and not just visit but sit in uncomfortable places so his gospel can be shared with our words and with our actions…

BUT

most of all with our love.

After all – John 3:16 -18

 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. 

tidalwaves

tsunami hazard sign reads
go to high ground
get off the beach
what do you do when the tidalwave hits home
out of nowhere doubts and fear arise
resurfacing through counter waves of joy
confusion reigns in the land of Suke
focus, girl, focus
on the one who loves
focus, girl, focus
don’t move your eye off the path
the storm brews in silence
batten down the hatches
keep old nick from the door
let peace descend, fluttering into the chaos
order the thoughts, girl
renew the mind
let the heart fly untethered
all for the greater good.

My sincere thanks to three special ladies that intervened today, and of course the G who arrived just in time.

Father God, thank you for your love that infuses my being and thank you for the love shared today, physically by a hug and a hand on my face and in conversation with two others. Thank you Lord for all the special people in my life, the people you have placed here and I thank you that you take care of me when distracted by doubt. Amen