What we're up against

The world has put its weight heavily around my neck,

it’s a noose which threatens to strangle me if I jump. 

So I keep my feet firmly on the ground, 

not out of fear but out of love. 

Love for you. 

Love is greater than the addiction. 

Love is greater than it all. 

We’re up against the devil,

who will stop at nothing to separate us. 

He wants to destroy love. 

He wants to make us believe that the world is not that heavy. 

That the world is a place filled with opportunities to start again and that it is free. 

That time is not a consideration of cost, of investment. 

That what we share is of no value.

We’re up against the power of the world and its alluring ways.

For me, he paints a picture of freedom, 

for you, he says the same. 

A different kind of freedom.

Freedom from reality. 

For me, freedom from the unreal. 

He’s lying, how can he be telling the truth? 

It is not post-modernism. 

There cannot be one truth for me and one for you. 

He lies.

This is our truth – that I love you and you love me. 

The strata of lies and deceit are not derived from our minds, but from him.

Let’s take away the layers of time and lies and go back to the days when we couldn’t bear to be without each other. 

When we were young. 

When we dreamed dreams and sat in waiting. 

Let’s go back and make plans for a new future.

A happy time. 

The happiest. 

Let’s go there, 

just you and me against it all. 

Crack heads and coffee shops

The streets are cold and mean
Suspicious and cautious, they cross over
It's dark out and it's threatening rain
He pulls his hood over and prays
"God, please take me from this loneliness, come into my life"
Not knowing, God is already right there, asking him to make a choice. To flip the switch. Do this.

He can't hear; it's too noisy in the empty streets
All he knows is that he's the King of those streets...
Until they come for the money he doesn't have
...Or the liberty that's not his to give

So he enters the warmth and glow of everything that is false
Mini society that can't deny that he exists
They have no reason to refuse him
He has money and a friend
He can't be up to no good
Surely, he can come in?

He sits. Hands shaking. Uncomfortable
He looks up afraid to meet the pity in her eyes
He wants to be normal as though the crack is a lie
It is a lie
It lies to him.
It takes from him the desire to be truly seen for who he is
Not a hard rock
Not even a diamond in the rough
- he is perfectly and wonderfully made
"Why can't they see me?" He screams from inside his mind
...but the words slow down and change tone and come out like,
"So how's life treating you?"

He wants a normal conversation and to be normal again
But he can't remember how to get back home
Or where he belongs
So he sits a while and smiles
Before thinking about getting back out there for his next high

The rain pours, his desperation soars
and he's back in the illusion
That he's the king again...

A tribute to the most beautiful girl in the place... the late Mrs Burke

In late 2010, I was at a women's fellowship and Mrs Burke, this beautiful lady, began to speak - she shared a story of her late husband: when she was newly married, she would dress up and wait for him to enter the room before asking, "So, how do I look?" and he in reply would say, "You're big enough and old enough to look in the mirror and see for yourself!"

I guess she shared her story to empower the others - to know that beauty doesn't depend on who's looking at you, real beauty is knowing who you are, yourself. As she sat there reminiscing, her face was lit up like a warm, glowing ray. Even years after her husband's death, she remembered him with great affection. It is this memory of her that will stay with me the most, it is a memory of sincerity and beauty.

I saw Mrs Burke every Sunday morning sitting at the back of the auditorioum without fail, coming into the end of the first service and then waiting patiently for the second service to begin. She was ever present, she was at the prayer meetings daily too, and the exercise classes for the retired on Wednesdays. She always wore a smile, and a little gentle laughter would almost always follow - as though seeing me had brought a little sunshine into her life. I always felt that I was someone special when I saw her - she had that effect on people. The truth is, it was she, who was a very special woman, and the warmth I felt was a reflection of her kindness.

I didn't know her beyond a kiss on the cheek every week, and a kind word, but when I heard that she had passed, it brought more than a tear to my eye; I thought about how I would never see her again and how my Sundays would never be the same.

She represented a lot of things to me. Faithfulness was one of them - even in her 80s, she would walk to church on her own without fail, always sitting in her favourite place. Grace was another - she was something of a stunner, I often addressed her as the most beautiful girl in the room becaue she truly was, and she had a manner so refined, that it made one think of royalty. She made me glad I knew her, she enriched my life in a way so tender that I am forever changed - to know that a woman like her existed gave me a goal of how I wanted to be. And she wasn't related, no, she wasn't my mother, aunt, sister or grandmother either, that I should have a kinship that brought innate love - she was just Mrs Burke, full of joy. She was hard not to love for just being herself.

Maybe I'm sentimental but I just needed to take a moment to acknowledge her, to remember her, to say goodbye Mrs Burke, I hope to see you again some day.

To the most beautiful girl in the room
You will always be the epitome of feminity to me
What great standards of faith and commitment you displayed
Encouraging others to do much the same
With a twinkle in your eye, your beauty shone
Like the stars, which speak of God's glory without saying a word,
You were able to speak volumes and volumes through your warm hands and sweet kisses
I'm sad that you're gone but rejoice that you lived a long life that touched many
You will be truly missed.

I rest less for tomorrow

Restless. I rest less for tomorrow.

I think about foundations and grassroots and consequence.

I fret and worry, even though I’m 'laid back'.

Tutting and muttering at the errors of mankind, to which I belong.

Why do we act on impulse and not on responsible thought?

And when, even if we do think, do we fall into playing it safe and not acting at all?

I release you Responsibility.

I give you your chance to run and fly.

But if you fall back down like a lead balloon,

 I will have to own you and carry you around.

Days of the future are tinted with sun-kissed gold.

A time where there is no worry or repercussion

Where children hide and give way to laughter when found

Where the air is tickled with promise.

I will try to rest more and trust that with every new day seeds have been sown

I know that I will smile once more.

26/10/15