In the breeze

Take your position. Await on your perch. There's more of my Kingdom to be seen on the earth. Stop hiding your colours, Hand-painted with love. Come take your position; You're seated above. Pick up your mantel, It's been waiting a while. It's not prideful to wear What I give with a smile. Come closer and listen to all that I say, Then mimic, repeat - There's no time for delay. I've given you vision. Don't ignore what you see. You have my permission, To speak truth about me. Enough preening and squawking and practice - all safe! It's time to start flying, Take a big leap of faith. Isolation has hurt you, though I've been your rock, It's time to return; to be part of my flock Parrots assemble! Get ready for flight. It's up high, close beside me, That you'll win the good fight.

They say the sun will shine again,  It won't be very long, And it's easy to believe that's true, I'll keep on being strong But as the winter digs in it's heels,  And joy seems oh so sparse, A niggle starts to grow inside, My smile becomes a farce. The increase of the darkness, which happens day by day, is stealing all my hope, and now, I think I've lost my way. Held captive by the rain and ice, In a spiralling black hole. The cold and barren landscape is a mirror for my soul. Then, looking through the window, Something caught my eye,  A spider's web was glistening in the hedge nearby. I see the snowdrops pop up their heads As if to say "Hello!" They'd been buried in the darkness too, They nod and say, "We know." A blackbird sits and looks at me; He sings a cheery tune. The notes fly by and pick me up, And stay with me 'til noon. Dry, tired leaves hanging on in hope, Now glittering with frost, Perhaps I, too, can hang on in, Perhap...

  Are you're feeling bound; helpless, hopeless, insignificant, trapped, disregarded, undervalued, or like someone's scapegoat? As if there's always someone or something requiring more of you than you have to give and it seems to count for nothing and never offers a reward?    There are days when following Jesus just feels too difficult. Where it seems like God is asking too much; "I have to die again? Lay on the altar and give up my will!" Do you know the word "victim" comes from the Latin word victima, which means "animal offered in sacrifice to the gods"? In tough seasons, that's what it feels like. As if I'm God's victim. Then I remember His nature... He is my provider, my defender, my refuge. My strength comes from His joy. He's my advocate, my fortress and my rock. I stand because I stand on Him. He's my comforter, my hope. In the time of Abraham, child sacrifice to the gods was a "normal" practice, so being a...

 We now have a cat called Sionyn, although "have" is currently a bit of a stretch of the imagination! Over the last year, he's taken to wandering off days at a time, coming back rather full! On the vet's advice, we're careful how much we feed him. He's always been an excellent hunter and has even brought squirrels home - for a little takeaway on the side! He eats everything he catches. He went on another walkabout in the New Year, but this time, he didn't come back after a few days or a few weeks, and after a couple of months, with heavy hearts, we decided to pack up his bowl. Last night, as I was standing in the kitchen, in he strolled, meowing, and headed straight to where his bowl was kept, only then looking at me with great surprise that there was no food waiting...after four and a half months! After I picked my jaw up from the floor, I looked at him to make sure he was keeping ok. There were no clues as to where Sionyn was hanging out, but it was very...

You, drum, stop your banging, you're making a din The sound of your beat makes my head spin. And Harp! Stop bragging of your many strings,  Play fewer, think smaller when the viola begins. Double-bass and violin, sort yourselves out, We can't have a screech  along-side a deep shout. The fanciful flute with it's quick change of tempo,  Keep up everybody. Why are you so slow? Too gentle, too sharp! Come, get it right, Knock off sharp edges Or there'll be a fight  And now you're all moulded, stretched out or contained  Is this perfection? No! You've been maimed. Extremities matter; they make up the whole. Not one or t'other but all is the goal. The Composer has written a beautiful score, He chose each note.. Now it's time to restore  Remove expectations that cause you to strive. Stress isn't the purpose of being alive. Lock eyes with Conductor, he knows your part, He'll teach you to play. No performance, all heart.

  In the summer, I was traveling to London on the train. It was a birthday treat and the idea of driving didn't spark much joy. As I normally travel by car, the train was an adventure - to start with! And then, like the Hobbits leaving the shire, it didn't quite go to plan! I'll leave the full story for another day but traveling by train the same day that Taylor Swift was in Wembley wasn't such a great idea. The trains were absolutely chockablock. We spent an hour stood toe to toe, head to armpits, as hundreds of people squashed into a train that was already full. Yet the passengers were laughing, chatting and sharing life stories as we trundled down the tracks. The discomfort, apparently, was worth it and we left the station wishing our new besties a wonderful time. If that was a Monday morning of commuters, I'm pretty sure the atmosphere wouldn't be quite so joy filled. What we're willing and even able to endure, can definitely be connected with the percei...