Grumble!

Ah, the intricacies of moving from one cellular network to another when you are not a name but some nameless entity, lost in the mass of swirling flotsam that comprises customers in some virtual world.  Grrrr. I am annoyed at my 'loss' and the theft of my more than 20-year old identity.

This is the mess-up of digital lifestyles and worlds. The morass of nothingness. Of listening to on-hold music and waiting to be found.

No wonder many in this life are so lost and unanchored. The demons of oblivion cling laughing to so many souls while their human hosts dive into cyberspace and are un-found. Only real in the world of make-believe. Surfacing less and less to sunshine and wind and distance and rain and...

While I rein in my temper (attempting to reflect Christ to those I fleetingly tell my tale of woe to), I do thank God that I live in a real world. With grass, people, life, kisses, hugs, small people, scraped knees and the ever-present "what's for lunch?" queries.

If my identity is bound inextricably into this irritating phone that is offline, then I am lost.

(Now that's a different perspective found in my grumbling rumblings).

Walking and running

I have walked and I have run
I have played beneath the sun
I have cried between the waves
And I have been lifted up by Him who saves.

My path has not been in the valleys below
Where all is peaceful and quiet waters flow
My path has been through the high mountain peaks
Where rocks are stark and the horizon bleak.

I've walked in hidden valleys and I've run in the rain
I've sought His face again and again
And on the path that He's brought me I've walked without fear
Knowing He holds me in every year. 

Treasures are scare, precious, sometimes few
The face of a flower lifted and new
The people of pain and promise I meet
The ones for whom I can wash their sore feet. 

This is my path and He is my all
Heaven is watching and though I may fall
My God lifts me up and we will go higher
For He is my reward and my deep one desire. 

(For my dear friend Deb, who runs and walks in the hard-to-reach places of great beauty, love and pain: with healing in her hands and wisdom on her lips. Happy birthday, woman loved by your God.) 

Monday morning...

There's a sacred silence in my home this morning. The musical sounds of the dishwasher, a drip or two, breathing. A train in the distance. Birds. No builders yet!

When the Lord said that He would rebuild Jerusalem, I had no idea what building entailed. This small glimpse into the process as it happens in my own home has been enlightening. Dust, noise, heat, debris. To restore, you need to bash down and break down and cart rubble away. 

No wonder the process of rebuilding in our own lives is so hard!  It makes me fall on my knees and ask God to spare my family the hurt that will lead to the need to rebuild. 

(He makes all things new in his time.)

Not so heavenly

But pure bliss! The house to myself for 20 minutes after a week of dust, noise, people in and out, banging, shouting, laughing, kids... My home is now strangely quiet.

I did not realise how much I savour silence, and how much I need it. Truly, this moment is to be inhaled like the aroma of fine wine. 

(Erm - carefully! There's still cement dust in the air!)

Feet on earth... eyes to heaven!