Tag: Spirituality

Advent 13

The road is a lonely place to wake, every grain of earth and fallen leaf is new. The way the light breaks through the landscape, the smell on the first breath of wind, when the silence is split by alien cries and dawn greets in a foreign tongue.

Eyes take time to adjust and the mind a moment behind. The body feels all out of place and time, as it stretches the aches of the night, easing joints bruised by the makeshift rest and limbs weary from the road. The sights and smells, sounds and sensations of yesterday now weave into the whole journey’s pattern as space for today is made.

Breaking the fast brings some grounding. Watching companions feeling their skin, tired, tight and rough. Massaging warmth and life into still sleeping bones. Consuming heat from the steaming drink, feeling it seep slowly through the numbness.

Then we begin to prepare, binding struggling stretched muscles, patching torn feet. Packing what was pulled in haste from bags and blankets as the darkness had rushed in. Loading and balancing, smoothing out folds and lumps that might become knives and rasps through the day.

This is the life on the traveller, the wanderer, the pilgrim. The morning becomes a ritual that floats on the strangest of seas. Each day the farewells feel more distant but the faces of family grow closer. The further we go, the more painful the parting. The closer we get to our ending the more the uncertainty wounds. Things that seemed lifetimes away now stabbing fear in each step and each stop.

Do they stand on the wall and watch? Do they even know we are coming? Will the gatekeepers be ready to welcome us in, will the peacemakers open their arms? Will the fire be stoked, will the kettle be on? Will there be food enough for all?

But those are questions ahead and right now it is time to walk. God of the road be before us, God of the stream be alongside, God of the sky light our path, God of the fields and the furrows nourish, God of the dawn light our way, God of the hearth bring companionship, God of the journey lead on.

Advent 12

There is rhythm in my travel, in the beating heart I hold,

I hear it in my breathing, in the stories I’ve been told.

It’s there in the air as the wind moves, it’s there in the chorus of life.

It forms tunes all around that I sing to, painting melody thick with a knife.

The songs ease the passage of distance, taking me places that I’ve never been.

I’m finding the truth in each step, and meaning in sights that I’ve seen.

I need to keep sure as we move, the direction we head still feels right.

The promise breaks brilliant ahead, behind nothing is left but the night.

This is the road of our Fathers, we have to return to their place.

But we know that we’re not moving backward, it’s an uncertain future we face.

The world had seemed scored to perfection, then the sweet voice spoke into the dark,

It started to play a new rhythm, dawn harmonies sung by the lark.

We sang legends and lyrics of promise, as we waited to hear what came next,

We sang songs that were bigger than all of us, of a world that is woven and flexed.

Of eras and ages before us, when the spirits danced over the seas,

When the ground that we walk on was forming, when they loved in the shade of the trees.

We sang of times before time was first counted, and wisdom held firm to each hand,

We wept when she told of its ending, as hate burned like fire through the land.

Now I hear something new in the distance, the rhythm becoming a beat,

It pounds in my heart and my soul, as we walk it is under my feet.

So this is the way of our journey, familiar yet totally new,

As we follow the songs of the future, and dance in the promise of you.

Advent 11

This season we remember women.

Women, not unusual, not different or strange.
not special, peculiar, not even unique,
They did not wear the clothes of men, or use men’s tools and words,
They simply spoke as women speak and stood as women stand.
One hundred years ago they marched, they cried and even died,
Just to be heard as women, nothing more and nothing less.
‘Just’ women, incredible, powerful, ordinary women.

This season we celebrate women.

The mothers, the sisters, the lovers.
The workers, the leaders, the speakers.
The carers, the holders, the healers.
The teachers, the builders, the makers.
The artists, the poets, the players
The priests, the prophets, the seers.
The women with faith, who speak and change life.
The women who take up the call that they hear,
The women who trust who they are, what they have.
The women who carry the future for all,
who bear the load that others can not,
The women who know they are blesséd,
who redefine strength and beauty and love,
and offer it back to the world.

The season we thank God for all women.