The sound of silence and letting it be

I’m so tired of talking-

of trying to control, manipulate, convince, clammer, prove, and get it right.

Not only with the world, but with, The Lord.

I’m tired of trying to grasp the things that are already grasping me; tired of holding on, like my grip is the only thing keeping it together.

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I’m ready to let go- to release my death grip on life: the now and my future.

Tired trying to control and constrict; manipulate and maneuver, I want to let it be and let me be, along with it.

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I want to be still.

I want to be silent.

And remain there. 

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I want to behold the touch and stare of my Beloveds, letting silence speak louder than words…. let our souls do the talking, communing deeper than mere words could ever penetrate.

I want to speak only when my speaking adds something beautiful to the silence- to this world or another heart.

Yes, more.

I want more of this:

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More silence, less talking.

More listening, less convincing.

More stillness, less striving.

More being, less doing.

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I am ready and I am willing…

to delve the depths of contemplative prayer- not just in my devotional time, but with my life.

Contemplative Prayer goes deeper.

There are times when we speak, weep, groan and shout. But there are also times, when we simply sit in silence and are held by our Beloved…

He reveals to us what God is like with flesh on.

-Book of Common Prayer : Marks of New Monasticism 

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I feel content to be; no need to hurry or rush, to plan ahead or prepare- for now or my future.

No desire to set goals, personally or professionally; in my marriage or family. There are no flags waving- red or white– staring me in the face, needing attention.

I have no qualms leaving the space between silent- unmotivated to fill it with my words and thoughts and ideas.

I just want to leave it- to let it unfold with the natural rhythms of life.

Instead, I want to be in it, to experience it and feel it; to savour it, un-muddled by manipulation or expectation.

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Recently, we celebrated six years of marriage- and a decade of life together, as a couple. More than any other man or friend, I have given Him my passage of time…..

It’s funny how we can remember the past as if it were yesterday; every detail sharp and etched in stone: the pain, the heartbreak, the baggage we’ve since carried with us. And yet, that moment- that relationship- as compared to the 3650 days I’ve shared with Him, is nothing but a blink: a blip on the map of my pilgrimage journey.

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As we sat at the top of a rock cliff, looking out, I realized: I’m ready to leave it all behind. I’m no longer looking back; only forward- with hope, excitement and anticipation.

Through force and anger and suffering, we stopped. We remade our life from the inside out. It took three years, but we did it: the hard work of healing, rebuilding and laying entirely new foundation.

And in the last year, we’ve walked that out- applied the lessons and convictions, we nurtured in that season. We put our money where our mouth is…

and it’s worked.

We’re here:

No longer in the thick of it, we’ve ascended the mountain, seen the peak and trail blazed our way back down. Now we’re leaving the forest through the trees.

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What’s I see now, is a beach: a break, a breather; a moment to bask in the sun of our hard-earned sweat and glory.

Don’t be fooled, it was a fight: the hardest battle we’ve ever fought. But the war is over- at least for now.

Now, it’s time to retreat.- to return home to our people and place and just be, with them. To refill and rejuvenate and rest in the arms of love…. and linger there. To give thanks for all thats been and all we’ve come to be, through it. 

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It’s no wonder my husband and I long to reinvest: in friendship, in community, in extended time with family. 

Where we once pulled back from these (in order to protect and focus our efforts on healing), we now feel the need to retreat from the battle grounds- abandon the places we waged war and found solice in the thick of it: research, reading, healing programs, social media, writing and justice work. 

Our hearts longs to be at rest and remain there for a period of time.

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As we waded in the water, I felt compelled to jump in- to get wet, clothes and all; no longer care about proper or order or what other people may think. And so I did…

I lay there, fully clothed, fully submerged, allowing the ocean waves to take me away.

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I didn’t fight it.

I embraced it:

My fear replaced by trust; my innocence returned. 

Then Dave joined me, plastic wine glasses in hand. We found a rock mid- ocean and sat there staring out, half submerged in water.

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No need for words, our hearts did the talking.

We cheersed, he kissed me and all was well with my soul.

 

 

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Breathing Room

So many stirrings.

Such depths of longing.

Yet, few words will form- or suffice.

I want to make concrete these stirrings I have- this growing hunger for more: more space, more freedom, more ease, more breathing room- but I can’t quite yet.

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It comes like a leaky faucet- in drips and drabs and droplets: the prayers, quotes, songs, pictures, and metaphors of others. Ones for now, I’ll gladly borrow:

The TeacupIlluminata, Breathe with Love. The Coffee ShopStarlight in the Darkness, yoga in the morning. Floating Clouds, open ocean, rustling wind within the trees.

They whisper my unformed words – silent soliloquies.

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It’s a tune I recognize from a pit of knowing-  the woman who longs to emerge and stay:

Who wants more love, less judgement.

More being, less doing.

More get to’s, less have to’s. 

More listening, less talking. 

More living, less striving. 

… In both my external world and my internal.

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In these four weeks of silence, I’ve rediscovered a best friend- the voice I once knew and followed with passion…. my soul.

I hear her again. And her voice is so sweet.

We’re starting at last to honour our own discomfort, to think that maybe we weren’t crazy after all, chafing for years under the oppressive weight of our cultural nonsense.

Millions of us now reach out for our lost, buried souls, and once we begin the search, we’re bound to find it. – Illuminata by Marianne Williamson

….  like an old familiar friend or a cozy sweater; a timeless love song, set to a moody ballad.

At first her voice was quiet, like a soft whisper I strained to hear. But now she’s singing with octane and the innocence of an untamed child.

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Curious, she is; whimsical and passionate; in love with life- her life.

She sees good and beauty everywhere; from an orange, to a butterfly, to the faces of neighbours passing by.

She knows what she wants and it’s not the things this world tells her she does.

She worships in surrender, with a kind of teenage love. Uninterested in religion, but fiercely hungry for God.

She’s inclusive of others, regardless of differences- asking questions without forming opinions first.

She shines bright- Light in poise and manner. Unconcerned with words, she sees no need to explain herself. She lets actions, speak louder.

It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts. – James 3:13 (The Message)

Like a lighthouse, she feels no need to draw attention inward. She shines outward for the sake of others- a light left on for pilgrims on the journey.

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She delights in her senses and revels in flavour.

She feels at home – in her body and her community.

She sees abundance in place of scarcity and trusts implicitly.

She flourishes in simplicity and blooms inside the margins- with time, in the waiting. 

She’s unhurried and unrushed, trusting in the process and her pleasure.

It’s the journey she’s after- one of meaning: connection and joy; contentment and faith.

This is the legacy she wants to leave.

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As I’ve listen to her voice and befriended her longings, I found new space to thrive- breathing room.

It was there all along, like an unopened present, just waiting for me to see it.

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I was too busy and distracted to notice; to hurried in my tasks to care. I chose instead, the beat of expectation- my own, the world’s, what I thought the church (and God) required of me. 

Now, I find myself rebelling- pushing back against the fence walls that boxed me in and stifled the lyrics of my soul.

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Like my ideas of faith and God, my life is expanding- and in that expansion, I’ve found myself, again- my true self, my soul.

Like a reunion of saints:

Her innocence, my maturity. Her whimsy, my experience. Her freedom, my longing. Her joy, my suffering.

Together, we are better. 

In our union, we’ve found home. 

 

 

 

 

When God shows up at ER

I spent last night in the ER. I did a number to my finger. Needless to say, I didn’t want to be there.

It wasn’t how I envisioned my evening. I had planned to hunker down with “Call the Midwife,” a glass of vino and build IKEA furniture for my elderly neighbour.

Now I was here, in the Rapid Assessment Zone.

My Doctor has told me ample times to avoid walk ins and ER’s at all cost. Ive heard his horror stories about bad docs, wrong diagnosis’ and botched surgeries- so, I prayed continuously to ease the anxiety:

Get me in quick. Give me the best doctor possible. Give them full knowledge of the issue and how best to proceed.” Simple and to the point, but It gave me peace.

A young ER doc walked in. He was cold but did the job. At one point, he admitted he couldn’t see the full extent of the damage and wanted a second opinion, but no specialist was available. Neither was the one on call. So, I prayed again:

Give him discernment, Lord – tell him what to do.

He made an executive decision and went with it. I felt peace.

“I’ll give you the number of a specialist to follow up with in a few days. Be right back.”

Then he returned.

“Did you say your GP’s name is this?”

“Yes,” I replied. He grinned large…

“Oh, just go see him! He’ll know what to do. He specializes in practically everything.”

I felt relief. And then he added:

“And he trained me! I graduated under him.”

I laughed out loud… Of course he did!! Three cities away, in the middle of the burbs and my city-dwelling doctor gave this guy his stamp of approval- quite literally. God clearly has a sense of humour.

We shared a good laugh and I had him write his name on a piece of paper. I knew My doctor would want to know who stitched me up.

I might be biased, but I trust no one like my own doctor. He has years of training and he runs a department of a large city hospital- plus he trains other doctors. He’s legit. So when I’m out of his care, I worry. And believe me, I have reason to…. I’ve been the bad case study and the one who slipped through the cracks. I couldn’t have my doctor, but God gave me second best. Plus I was in and out of ER in under 2.25 hours.. their average is 5!

A glass water bottle is the culprit. It shattered in my hand and got down to my bone. I cut an artery and nicked a nerve. Needless to say, it was a blood bath and my two year old, bore witness. It’s wasn’t pretty.

I’m grateful for community who came running. My nurse Neighbour examined me and my girlfriend played house while I was gone. She even cleaned the murder scene!

The full extent of damage is not known yet. I won’t know for at least a few days. I would love your prayers though: for nerve growth, for full recovery of functionality and speedy healing.

 

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Wild Freedom and the Dance of my Inner Child

I feel awake, as if for the first time- seeing life with new eyes, ears and taste buds.

Everything feels new… like my senses have awoken from a deep sleep- a hibernation.

This doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been surviving for the better part of three years- the hard work of surrendering, staying, healing and learning to breath. The brave choice to keep going and believing, when it feels like the oxygen has been sucked from your life.

To everything there is a season and these past years have been necessary- Holy and Good. They’ve remade me and birthed in me a new woman- no longer a caterpillar, but a butterfly.

Now, I feel a new story unfolding ; one where the heroine of the story is me, learning to fall in love again- to love and be loved in return…. not just by God, but by my people.

Give me insight, so I can do what you tell me- my WHOLE life one long, obedient response. Give me a bent for your words of wisdom.

Deflect the harsh words of my (inner) critics, for what you say is ALWAYS good!

Let your LOVE shape my LIFE, as I stride, FREELY, in WIDE OPEN SPACES…. as I look for your truth and wisdom there. Then, I’ll tell the world what I find- speak body in public places, unembarrassed.

You are GOOD. Train me in your goodness. Focus my attention on what you are saying, while I DANCE to the tune of your revelation.

Oh, Lord, LOVE ME, right now! HOLD ME tight! Comfort me, so I can REALLY LIVE.  – Excerpt Psalm 119

As I read these words my body unfurls. My toes curl, like a breath of ecstasy. My inner child leaps with joy, a happy dance suppressed for too long.

I once was in a prison cell, surviving pain and holding hope. Now I find myself in a Meadow-  just past the gate of crossroads.

This Meadow is wide open and I am free- free to run and play and delight in all it offers.

The Meadow is Wild…. and the truth is, it scares me. 

The mother in me wants to see, first, the rules sign posted at the entrance, to read the mission statement and hear God’s overarching goal before I agree- before I surrender to this adventure I find myself in.

It feels grey, when my mother heart wants it black and white.

But the little girl? She’s antsy- more like pee her pants excited– to be here. She wants to run with reckless abandon!

She’s begging me to LET GO and watch her RUN FREE…. to cease being a religious helicopter parent over her spiritual journey.

She has the Holy Spirit to do that, and he’s far more gentle and kind, than I. He’s untainted by the world and religious conditioning- exactly the things that have been hindering her for years- the things I’ve unknowingly heaped upon her like a wet blanket.

I see me, grasping her hand tight, she pulling- willing me, to give in- to stand watch, like a good parent would do, while she frolics and plays in the Freedom God has given her.

She wants to dance, unashamed of how her body looks or moves to the rhythm. She wants to sing, loud and proud, regardless of how it sounds. She wants to eat and taste and rediscover food, as a gift and a friend, not an enemy or inconvenience. She wants to explore new sights and sounds- the novelty exotic. She wants to delight in the touch of her lover. She wants to pray in ways I haven’t allowed, and listen to longings of her heart.

Did you take God into your mind only, or did you also embrace him with your heart? Did he get inside you?! – Acts 19:2 (The Message)

And so I stand, as the mother of a child- my inner child- knowing what I must do:

entrust her to the care of Jesus.

 

—–//

Lord, I am convinced that you alone know what is best for me- my inner child. You alone know what she needs. I release her- my inner child- into your care and protection.  I commit myself to praying for her, everything you put on my heart. Help me not to impose my own will – the will of my guardian and functional heart– onto her. Help me not to live in fear of possible dangers, but in the joy and peace of knowing that YOU ARE IN CONTROL. I entrust her and release her into your hands- your protection, your guidance and your counsel. In Jesus name, Amen. 

 

The new has come, the old has passed away | a NEW creation in Christ Jesus

I stood at the back watching, as 100 twenty somethings waved their hands in the air, jumping up and down with reckless abandon. A wave of emotion overcame me. We sang these words on repeat:

No sin too great, no pain too deep, no shame too real, that His love won’t heal.

In that moment, I knew it was true; not just with my head, but with my heart- I was convinced of it.

And as I cradled the revelation, I remembered God’s words:

Behold I am making ALL things new in you, Kailey-  a BRAND NEW thing. I’m making streams of living water in the badlands.”

Not two months ago, I wrestled for hope on Easter Sunday– I was living in not anymore, but STILL not yet. Waiting. Hoping. Holding fast to faith in what God has promised me, but I still had not seen the fruit of.

Yes, I was changed, but I was not entirely new- I still carried scars on my heart like tattooed reminders of my pain and past. And if those didn’t remind me, shame would – it always does, my mind a constant battlefield.

And yet, here I was fully convinced that these words were true for me, personally: There is no sin of mine too great, no pain too deep, no shame too real, that His love can’t heal.

And like a thunderhold, I heard Him in the recess of my heart:

It is finished.

Then these words fell from my lips, like a prophetic declaration:

The old has gone and the new has come. I am entirely new in Christ Jesus. It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me.

In that moment I knew:

It was done- all the pain of my past healed, redeemed and made new! God had taken every ounce of hurt- the things that hurt me the most– and used them to recreate me from the inside out.

The things that should have killed me, remade me.

Not a patched up version of my old self, but an entirely new creation in Christ Jesus. I look, sound and act like an entirely different person – because I AM!!

I had just preached for 10 hours over the course of three days, and by golly, that woman WAS NOT THE OLD ME! 

I am no longer a caterpillar in a cocoon, awaiting transfiguration, but a butterfly, emerged and ready to fly.

Friend, you can’t possible understand the gravity of that statement…

I have been living in that cocoon for over two years,  in the darkness, awaiting the day when light would break through. Holding hope when it looked like nothing was happening. Trusting in the process even when it looked and felt like death. When it was uncomfortable, pressing in on me from all sides.

My cocoon was a test of faith and perseverance that matured me and built hope. And here I now stand a new creation.

In my newness, I am leaving behind baggage- the backpack I carried for years, like a penance to pay and protect: insecurity, striving, frantic and tired; the neglect of my soul and body- neither some possession that belongs to the spiritual part of me. I am a whole package, designed to love and be loved in unity- all of them deserving my care, attention and affection. If God can love and accept the whole package, so should I.

I have no notions this journey to flight will be easy – learning to walk out my freedom.

I know there will be days I’ll struggle and revert to old habits or thoughts, but through it all, I will ABIDE.

I will cling to Jesus as I learn to glide with grace.

Because I know who I am now- my identity no longer shaky or built on sand- who the world says I am.

I know who God says I am and that it is my lifebreath and song:

I am a warrior, a princess, a poet and a dancer.

… A warrior battling for myself and others to believe The One we belong to and who he says we are, in Him.

… A princess, beloved bride of the Only One who saves.

… A poet pouring out praises for all he’s done in me.

… A dancer, worshipping through movement- the breath of my body.

I am a writer and a speaker, but also a preacher; my voice is my gift to the world. God has called me to healing and deliverance ministry- something I’ve only just begun to taste.

The Holy Spirit will continue to lead me and guide me to truth that will set me free, so that others can be set free- to be who God created us to be, to walk out our callings, to Know Jesus and make Him known, to live wildly in His love and to love others the same.

Where I once doubted these things, I know them now to be true. Not true in some general, for somebody else sense, but all together true for me- my living reality:

God is able and he is trustworthy.

We can take him at his word.

He is powerful and our authority is found in His word.

Our God is good and he is working EVERYTHING out for our good.

What Satans means for evil, he will use for ultimate good- to show His glory and power- power to save, heal, love and redeem.

—//

Because you can take the girl out of the goal-setting but not the goal-setting out of the girl, this is what I hope for as I walk out my newness:

  • To leave a legacy of love and service, through simple, ordinary, every acts
  • To have loved Jesus more than anyone and anything else in this world
  • To have fulfilled my calling through faithful obedience, not necessarily quantifiable results
  • To have lived a quiet life, keeping to my business and working with my hands
  • For my daughter to know she is loved unconditionally, by me, her dad and Jesus
  • For the world (more importantly my people) to see Jesus in me, finding that beautiful and attractive.

In one year, this is where I hope to be:

  • To have experienced healing in my physical body, uniting it back to my soul and spirit
  • A simpler life: less stuff, deeper relationships and more time with family, friends and Jesus
  • Dancing again, running and yoga regularly, as well as, meditating
  • My health concerns on the mend with new routines and choices that ease my issues and I enjoy
  • Enjoying food and meal time again; uninspired and unmotivated to cook, a thing of the past
  • Minimal, if no TV
  • A spiritual mentor/group feeding, filling and challenging me
  • Regular church attendance that feels organic, routine and anticipated, not obligatory or a struggle
  • Rest as lifestyle
  • Listening to my body and welcoming what it needs

 

Ps: You can bet I’ve added these to my #powersheets and revised my yearly goals.