Tag: silence

Prayer for personal peace

In the turmoil of life, in the chaos of the storm, when you lose your sense of direction and place… in the dreams you have that seem too distant and out of reach… in your self doubt and feelings of failure and being an imposter… in your addictions and the needs that dominate your thinking… in your deepest pain and brokenness, illness and heart ache… in the emptiness of being alone and the incessant noise of the crowd… May you find still and rich peace, peace that is beyond measure and understanding, peace that cuts through the collected crap and soothes your soul.

Lent

“Look after yourself”, they say,

“have some you time!”

In the solitude the noise only amplifies,

The loneliness born in the night swells in the emptiness.

Scratching at the raw earth, fingertips crying for contact,

Wild sounds filling the vocal gap.

Deep into the desert.

Deep into the wild place.

Where I am supposed to find myself,

At least that’s what they say!

Maybe they’re right,

Maybe there will be a sound

Deep within,

A sound that makes some sense.

Behind my competing stories,

Beneath it all.

Maybe not,

Maybe this serves only to prove to me my need for another,

Even others.

Maybe that is what I need to learn?

Maybe that is what I need to find?

Maybe that is why I’m here?

Maybe soon I’ll know.

The sound of sheer silence

The sound of sheer silence,

Fights to be heard amongst the clatter and clamour,

Still the battering fears,

The questions that scream,

The anguish that points and pokes,

And tries to suffocate my space,

Doubts that roar in the tumultuous wind,

Accusations that pierce my awareness fired by the storm,

Insecurities crashing in my head in the fall of a great river,

In the noise I hear no voice but my own,

My weak voice, my raw voice, my tired voice.

My voice bringing me down, destroying my confidence, prodding my wounds.

Stand, still.

Stand, still.

Stand, still.

Do not hear the storm, the wind, the rain.

Hear instead the sound of sheer silence.

Hear the voice in peace,

Hear the voice of peace,

Hear the voice… peace.

1 Kings 19:11-13

Stand in the gap

Stand in the gap,

When they want to force you to take up an extreme, refuse.

When they want to you to be polarised, refuse.

When they want you to ignore the complexities and conundrums of life, refuse.

Instead stand in the gap where the real people stand.

Where the people who do not want to be pushed or defined by others insecurities and obsessions stand.

Stand where the subtle colours shift and shine, where the deep and generous patterns flow.

Stand with the thinkers and dreamers, the survivors and strugglers, the lovers and yearners, the busy and distracted, the confused and the searching, the poets and the prophets.

Plant your feet in the shifting sand and stand with the ordinary and extraordinary.

Stand while the edges shout their insults and slogans, their extremism and their intransigence.

Stand whilst they shout themselves to a deafened standstill in their fear and their anger.

Stand in the place of humility and love,

Stand in the place of unknown adventure,

Stand in the place of wonder and expectation,

Stand in the place of the God of desert and river, of exile and pilgrimage, of birth and rebirth, of love and sacrifice.

Stand as an invitation to others to stand there too.

they were not my lights

Sitting in the deepest dark,
the competing lights begin to fade,
for months they’ve blinded me,
they’ve spun and flashed to distract me,
they’ve teased me with their glamour,
calling like the sirens, but,
they were not my lights.

they beckoned nonetheless,
too often I have reached for them,
not wanting to miss out on the fun,
not wanting to be left outside,
they looked so beguiling,
a dancing spectrum of life, but,
they were not my lights.

they promised me good times,
told me they’d help me forget,
they promised me a new start,
offered me security, identity,
an illusion of importance,
seeking to seduce me, but,
they were not my lights.

Sitting in the deepest dark,
my eyes began to open,
I saw others sitting there,
in the stillness we drew in,
we spoke in empty silence,
of the lights that tempted, but,
they were not our lights.

As we looked together in the dark,
and told each painful story,
with only grace in common,
we faced the empty space,
the smallest spark was kindled,
my spirit began to wonder, if,
this could be my light?

 

to talk to you

most days I find a space to talk to you,
I never quite find the right language to use though.
my words often pause in the depth of my mind,
as I wrestle with their appropriateness.
they shuffle on feet that don’t know where they stand,
like a stranger who has found themselves in a conversation,
they are not sure they have truly been invited in to.
do I even need to speak?
is silence enough?
is it too much?
without seeing your face it’s hard to know.
sometimes I feel the need to shout,
to wait to hear if there is an echo,
a bounce-back when I cry into the emptiness.
so sometimes I just sit,
sometimes I am still,
often I fight the urge to shift and resign,
I struggle not to impose upon the secret conversation,
and play in sand of my choosing,
or stare too long into the water at my own image.
my senses are wild beasts that run and roar,
as I become still they strain and pull,
for a moment I let them lead me,
and then return to the silence.
sometimes the silence speaks,
images painted,
melodies playing,
words form that are not mine,
and I listen.
and I listen.
most days I find a space to talk to you,
because some days you talk back.