Threads

Back of a Tapestry.

I have so many threads running through my mind – which one do I pull upon?

So many dreams that hurtle to the ground at a resounding force of violence and ferocity. How do I proceed?

A heart pounding, beating for the ONE and yet so entrenched in the myre and clay that surrounds me. Of whom do I seek? Flesh and bone; spirit and life?

Insults, injuries, sickness devours my mortal soul. Wounds gaping and screaming to be heard, but nonetheless no voice to voice the pain or roar as the lioness I am.

Demons come and choke at my throat causing my breath to skip a beat, and words to be gurgled in the darkness. Breathing becomes shallow as rasps shudder my body and heave from my exhausted mouth.

I see you. You accusing spirit, I hear your words, but will not allow them to take hold. I blame no one. Words are spoken, opinions given, but it is not my desire to take offense – you cannot make me, accuser, even though they tantalize generously.

I rest. I pray. I give my burdens up and onto the Hands of Grace. I sleep.

Fitting dreams of lands I do not know. But we are there. Helping those in need, offering solace and practicalities to those pilgrims running for their lives. I see a great city fall. A nation besieged. A terror group overtakes another nation and causes great war.

My dreams exhaust me…

Opinions, opinions, opinions everywhere. Clawing at me, beseeching me to listen to yet another great fear wrapped up in another person’s lie. I shall not succumb. Truth is weighed up against the collective opinion, and is left wanting. I need only THE truth.

We pit one against another. We no longer walk in love and grace. Us against them. Me against you. The world has gone made. Good is now evil, evil reigns supreme in the hearts and minds in the citizens of this world.

Wonder – where have you gone? Wonder of all that is good, beautiful, true and lovely. I hear the distant sound of Louis singing about this ‘wonderful world’ but somehow it seems a bittersweet memory?

The threads are interwoven, they speak all so loudly, clamouring for my attention immediately. But I will not give over to the balls of messy threads, the odd lengths, the knots and ties, the unevenness of the mat, nor the colours bleeding into one.

I choose to look instead, at the Tapestry being woven throughout this life, and marvel at the beauty that comes from pain, devastation, love and truth.

The marvel that is Yeshua living in and through me.

Galatians 2:20 TLV. “And it is no longer I who live, but Messiah lives in me. And the life I now live in the body, I live by trusting in Ben-Elohim—who loved me and gave Himself up for me.”

3 am.

I remember so well the mornings you would whisper to me and awaken me at 3 am.  I loved being woken by you; the sweet aroma of love that enveloped me as you took me through your Word and uttered your divine mysteries into my heart.  As I look back at the things I wrote, I am aware of your presence, your calling, the hope I had – that now seems so shaky.

The cares of life, the pressures of the daily routine I fall into, the raising of children, the businesses, marriage and all its woes – where did WE go Yeshua?

I remember walking along the country road and hearing you speak so clearly to me.  The dreams you would share with me, the laughter that would easily enrapture my soul.  I think of the time you called me by my special name, a name only we know, and how in love I felt with you. 

The times I would come and minister to your heart, as you had done to my broken one, and yet you seemed so besotted with me too.  It’s a love story that is better than Disney or Hallmark, and yet I’ve settled for those love stories too now.

The worship that would flow from my mouth, emptying my soul into the ether as you showed me a new facet of your being.  How I miss you!

I sit on the carpet and weep now, such deep anguish in my soul – without words, they seem utterly meaningless, just guttural noises and tears falling out of me.

I remember those times I would pray and ask you to hold me as I slept, I needed you and your comfort so desperately.  And now, I have a physical husband and we watch endless TV series.

What once was a thriving love relationship based on your Word, your Presence and your Worship, has been replaced with many many programmes that fill the mind, scare the soul and leave the heart deeply grief-ridden and empty.

Walks that used to be two-way conversations, seem to be replaced with work.  Or should I say, plug up the ears and listen to yet another podcast that will invariably dull down my pour neglected heart?

Being misconstrued as something that I am not, and yet being fully unable to be the real person you have created me to be.

Longing for you, and yet when I don’t get the response needed, just plop down and dismiss it all as emotionalism…..hoping it wasn’t, knowing it wasn’t, but in this current climate that I live in, your Presence isn’t necessarily a necessity….

Yeshua, how I need you.  I realise how desperate my soul has become.  I have all that I ever asked for and yet my soul feels dead.  I find wonder in the dance, the hope, the dream and the memory.  But I need you more than I ever have! 

Looking back into diaries that stretch to twenty-five years, I went through a bad marriage, separation, divorce, rape, being a single mother, various diagnoses, depression, anxiety, poverty, debt, spiritual abuse, fractured relationships, reconciliation, different churches, different doctrines, and so the list keeps growing.  But you were the One who was my main staple in all those times.  These past ten years, there have been sporadic moments of you and your mystery, but they didn’t last long.  It would be easy to blame my husband, children, business and the like.  But the truth is, I haven’t needed much of you for the physical necessities like I used to.

Believe it or not, the truth is, I need you more than ever as we approach the end of days here on earth.  

You are everything.

It just took having everything on earth to know how desolate I am now.

Please can we reconcile?

The Scribe & Oracle

Golden quill.

She picks up the golden quill, a mighty theme upon her lips. As she writes the words upon the parchment, she is surprised at the letters forming and flowing so fast. As she utters the sounds of Heaven, all Creation listens: what Decree has the Lord spoken unto His willing Servant and Handmaiden? What mysteries will He expound through her mouth and the quill of her writing instrument?

She stops and waits as she hears the Lover of her Soul, whispering words of passion and grace into her heart. Will she dare write them down, only to be scorned and ridiculed, yet again?

Yes! For her Love has spoken His word into her, and through her this word will become flesh! He has come and dwelt among mere mankind – can you not hear, nor perceive it? Can you not taste and see for indeed, the Lord our God, He is good!

Come to the river and drink of water that you may never thirst again. Come and eat of the bread of life, and behold you will never hunger for mere food again! Come to the waters, replenish your soul. Come to the tree of life and eat – for then your healing shall break forth and your soul shall exalt in the Lord your God!

Come, dance and sing! Lift up your voice! Come magnify the Lord with me! Come, bring your timbres, your harps and your instruments! Come and make a melody, for the Lord is here in our midst!

Come; the Spirit and the Bride, say COME…!!!