Author: Joy Lenton

space: creating room for our souls to breathe

/ Joy Lenton / 6 Comments

Moving house 2 years ago meant a great deal of necessary sorting, sifting and discarding took place. We are slowly still going through our belongings, seeking to pare back to those things which fit where we are now and how we live. I’m attempting to adopt a “buy less/buy better” policy with my clothes as well.

Letting go and surrendering is tough. We get attached to stuff, and can struggle with the changes and upheaval required before we can reach a place of acceptance and calm.

Making space

Today they’ve mown down 
the cow parsley,
trampled the brown-crisped
remnants of Queen Anne’s Lace

to let the grass breathe,
to create a new space 
where blackbirds can 
stop and sit and congregate 

and hop in the shade
of the apple tree,
and sift the powdery 
dregs for edible seeds,

dip their beaks
into dried-out, sun-baked ground
with patient perseverance,
with hope and faith.

And as I watch them eat,
I think about the husks 
I bear inside, 
dried-out shells of places 

way past all watering 
because they’re wilted, limp,
dying, slain 
like shredded lace, no longer 

fit for purpose—
if I could only learn 
to relinquish, surrender 
them bit by bit

to the One who waits, and wants 
to create something new, 
something better 
in their desiccated place.
© joylenton


It’s also really hard to let go of old mindsets, habits and thoughts, isn’t it? Yet we’re encouraged to notice what doesn’t fit who we are as children of God, and to seek the Holy Spirit’s help in weeding them out to give our souls room to breathe and be at peace.

If there’s no clearing out, we’re in danger of getting stuck in the ruts of past behaviour and negative thinking. The key to overcoming the pang of loss is to fill the gap with positive ways to live, think, and behave that enrich our lives, rather than diminishing it.

Beauty and strength come from surrender. It might sound counterintuitive but it’s healthy for our souls. In the act of surrendering to God, we give Him carte blanche to help us become the very best version of ourselves.

lift: how life’s small mercies encourage our hearts

/ Joy Lenton / 3 Comments

It’s the smallest things of life that can make or break our days. **Mini mercies and moments of grace.** An unexpected visit, call, text, email or snail mail, perhaps. A bouquet of flowers. A delicious meal we eat. A friend to greet. A great book to read. A new place to see.

A cup of aromatic coffee or a pot of tea to savour. Photos of our family to take and share. A loved one to hug and hold. Music and sounds which delight or give us pause for thought. And the pleasure of enjoying nature’s abundance outdoors.


Having M.E and chronic illness has taught me not to despise the tiny, mundane things of life. When I yield to my body’s need to rest and pause, I often get a soul lift when I slow down.

God’s presence seems closer. Prayer arises spontaneously. Creative ideas begin to emerge. Life’s small mercies bless me enormously.

Birdsong reaches to the depths of my soul because each throaty call is a reminder to stay in joy, to live this life by keeping the flame of hope alive.

It doesn’t take much to sense a heavenly touch. Life’s little things become magnified as we pay greater attention to them. 

Lifted

I attempt to dust my bedroom,
just the easier parts I can 
reach, of course, but it leaves 
me exhausted, so I acquiesce,
rest on the bed. And I hear—
a susurration of traffic 

sounds, a background hum
interrupted by an intermittent 
trill of bright birdsong—
sharp, sweet, soft, solo, duet,
each one knowing their place 
in the divine orchestra.

It’s a river rolling through
my head, leaping like salmon
into my thoughts. I am stirred,
calmed, inspired, touched
to the core by the beauty
of it all. Such a simple

activity that rarely ceases
during summer or spring,
but it has the power
to lift our lives higher,
to add meaning to everything.
© joylenton

“A birdsong can even, for a moment, make the whole world into a sky within us, because we feel that the bird does not distinguish between its heart and the world’s.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

If you’d like to hear what some common British birds sound like when they’re singing, this little video will give you a clue. I learnt a few things from it, too!

Are you in a season of needing to slow? Seeking to recover a measure of strength, energy and health after a setback, perhaps? I would love to hear what helps lift and encourage your soul. Feel free to share below. Unsure what M.E is or how it affects people? This article will help. 😉❤️💜 Xx

dawn: the emergence of light gives us hope

/ Joy Lenton / 4 Comments 

Splash of glory

Sunlight laps at the edges
of fading night,
lifts its concealing cloak

by slow increments 
as dawn begins to break
and a sleepy world awakes.

Petals unfurl themselves 
to welcome sun,
spread wide their fragrant arms

like a benediction 
quivering in the breeze
as they bless who they please.

Birds announce their presence—
morning chorus 
resounds into skeined sky

as orchestrated 
hymns of grateful praise
rise, fill the airways.

It’s new every morning,
old as the hills,
this bright splash of glory

freely fills and spills,
lifts our hearts heavenward
in reverence and awe.
© joylenton

Dawn blessing

Bless the dawn—
the dawn of creation,
the dawn of sentience,
the dawn of creatures
great and small,
the dawn of gardens and plants,
of flowers and waterfalls.

Bless the dawn—
the dawn of mankind,
the dawn of hope
to encourage our hearts,
the dawn of new life,
the dawn of embracing it
with joy, wonder, and love.

Bless the dawn—
the dawn of invention,
the dawn of innovation
through the centuries,
the dawn of creativity,
the dawn of great ideas,
of light igniting for you and me.

— joylenton

garden: a place where God meets with us

/ Joy Lenton / 10 Comments

“I think that if ever a mortal heard the voice of God it would be in a garden at the cool of the day.” — Frank Frankfort Moore

In the garden

Christ walks in the garden,
yes, this spring-fresh orchard 
where gaudy peacocks strut,

where incipient apples grow
and the trees speak
to me of bearing his weight,

while bluebells shoot
their vivid heads skyward
to match the now droopy tulips,
and green plants emerge

blinking into the sun
like newly startled birds
before the heavy,
drenching rainstorm comes.

Christ walks in the garden
of my soul — he comes 
barefoot and vulnerable,

with a steady tread
firm and purposeful,
as he hopes I will notice

his presence, fragrant 
as the morning dew
I prepare to dip my toes

into, and rise refreshed
as if I’ve experienced 
peerless peace and rest.
© joylenton

“I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.” — George Washington Carver

Cascades: observe all the blossoming

/ Joy Lenton / 6 Comments

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.” — Mary Oliver

Experiences flow through our lives, our days, resembling a gushing waterfall that cascades. They arrive as moments of quiet reflectiveness, an exuberant drowning in sound sometimes, or a sudden stir of the heart that takes our breath away.

We experience a snapshot of seconds, a microcosm of inhabited moments, and a movie reel of minutes that pass all too fleetingly.

We all have occasions when we long to turn back time. Wouldn’t it be great to freeze-frame the highlights and press pause on the best moments of our lives?

Perhaps we could try to pay greater attention to it all, especially the golden glimpses that warm our souls.


Observing our lives is a lot like prayer. It’s gratitude in motion. A sacred act of appreciation and devotion.

We see more when we look with deliberate intent, seek to record with our eyes, and store away in our minds.

I’ve attempted to do that here as I view a pear tree releasing its blossom, listen to birdsong in the trees and the midday hymn singing.

Cascades

Cascades of confetti 
carpet the grass, veil the trees,
drape the garden 
plants, line the pathways,
as soft white blossom
drifts silently, 
detaches itself 
from its original home
on the pyrus communis
where it belongs.

Cascades of birdsong 
trill through the trees,
be they walnut, pear,
apple or oak
or magnificent magnolia,
as it lilts through the leaves,
threads its way
between the boughs, and arches
across the divide
where bony branches stretch.

Cascades of voices
sing out their praise,
whether wobbly and weak
or with vigour and strength
as the notes 
signal a hymn, unknown 
or familiar, 
for each one stems from
a grateful heart 
tuned into hope and love.
© joylenton

“Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.” — Henry Ward Beecher

wintering: hibernation for body and soul maintenance

/ Joy Lenton / 13 Comments 
Wintering 

I am wintering 
soul-deep, as I face 
my shadow self

who is seen best
in cold relief,
and coax her out 
of her hiding place

as I bring her
now into the light
of mercy and grace. 

I am wintering 
with hibernation 
my companion and friend
because there is

no spring to celebrate 
yet until I have rested 
myself and yielded to hope’s

whispers, to silence and stillness,
like a stunted amaryllis. 

I am wintering 
with a sigh of familiarity 
for this is my seasonal 

need, which is essential 
for body and soul
survival, recuperation, 

pausing and thinking space, 
for continued maintenance.
© joylenton


Friend, you are forgiven for thinking I’d vanished from this little home on the internet. Because you’d be correct, even though it wasn’t planned.

Worsening health, increased pain, a family bereavement and deep-bone weariness threw me into a prolonged season of hibernation and rest. One I didn’t ask for or expect.

And I’m still there. Not quite ready to bounce back into blogging or be consistently present yet. I need healing. I need grace. I need recovery more than I need to write.

But every now and then God grants me a slither of strength, a slight lessening of stiffness and pain, a smidgen of inspiration to write something.

That’s when I might pop up to share a poem with you here. But while I’m absent? Well then, I keep you in my heart, my thoughts, and prayers.

Much love until we meet here again…. Xx 💜😉❤️

poured out: when you feel permanently exhausted due to having ME

/ Joy Lenton / 12 Comments

Dear Reader/Friend, as you might have noticed, I’m not as active here as I used to be, partly due to my husband’s own health decline and recent surgery which required me to try to step up and attempt to plug the gap while he’s been incapacitated for a period.

But the biggest factor is a slump in my own health, with a worsening of the M.E symptoms especially. It’s been accompanied by increasing flare ups of the arthritis, fibromyalgia and Ehlers Danlos syndrome symptoms I also struggle with.

ME feels like having a permanent kind of flu virus. A body and mind going on strike because they’re swiftly overwhelmed and exhausted by life. When your legs feel as if they’re trying to walk on sand and your head’s full of cotton wool as well.

This hasn’t been written to try to elicit your sympathy but to help raise awareness of ME. Because so many people are either dismissive of it or are suffering in silence that I can’t help but try to convey a smidgen of what it’s like to live with it.

I hope the poem below (previously shared on the Chronic Joy Ministry blog) provides an insight. And that the details I share about the DecodeME study I’m involved with might stir your interest or prompt a prayer, perhaps.

Poured out

I am spoonless
any energy I've had
it's all used up
poured out drop by precious drop
on life's simple, basic tasks

so I must rest
retreat to a darkened room
crawl into bed
and let my body relax
hope my mind switches off

too much white noise
issuing from my thoughts
like buzzing bees
unable to be at peace
blinded to their destiny

my heart aches
with this inactivity
I feel frustrated
because it's enforced on me
because time just slips away

pain infiltrates
as spasms seize my joints
acting like needles
piercing with intensity 
I want it to go away

life swims past
it’s lost in a brain-fogged blur 
a cinema reel
screening inactivity
in a life lived with M.E 

I feel worthless
but God draws near, whispers
hope to my heart 
we’re not judged on our worth
it’s decided at the Cross

what matters most
is how we live and we love
how we yield to God
surrendering our hearts 
and giving help to others

for you and me
our soul's productivity
will be evident
measured by increments
and how our life is spent
© joylenton


DecodeME study info

If you’re 16 years old and over and reside in the UK, you are invited to take part in DecodeME, the world’s biggest ME/CFS study.

It will collect information from tens of thousands of people with ME/CFS and analyse DNA to see whether the disease is partly genetic and if so, help pinpoint what causes it – which is the path to finding treatments.

The first step is to take the DecodeME questionnaire and then you may also be asked to provide a saliva sample. They can be done from the comfort of your home. I’ve submitted both myself.

Your experience matters. Future treatment and research are reliant on it. Please help if you can or pass the link below on to someone you know who has ME and fits the criteria above. You can take part at www.decodeme.org.uk

Let’s get serious about getting to the bare bones of what causes ME, a seriously damaging autoimmune disorder of the neuroendocrine system, because it plagues lives, steals livelihoods and has been greatly misunderstood. Thank you! 😉💜

light: an invitation to let the light in

/ Joy Lenton / 8 Comments

“How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and colour are their last days.” — John Burroughs

Let the light in

I see light 
as evidence of God's 
presence, tangible

awareness revealing
his liquid, golden grace, 
with a mindful 

contemplation on his 
will and ways, because 
light filters most
 
through a receptive 
host. Maybe I can learn to
be a willing

vehicle, a silent subject 
to receive, then I can
achieve a place 

of calm within,
where light and love 
and joy reside

and hope rests 
quiet. It chirps, a softly singing
bird, sitting still 

as still can be, yet
gently fluttering its hopeful,
delicate wings.
© joylenton

“And that afternoon, as the sun slanted low through the changing autumn leaves, I remembered to savor the moment, soak in the beauty, breathe deeply and feel the immensity of God.” — Cindee Snider Re

Queen Elizabeth ll – a life well lived and a small tribute

/ Joy Lenton / 11 Comments

It’s impossible to put into words the deep sense of loss we have for our dearly beloved monarch, Queen Elizabeth ll, and how impactful her death is worldwide, especially for us as her nation and citizens.

She has been such a stable, constant presence in our lives over decades and a huge part of our nation’s heritage. The Platinum Jubilee celebrations this summer revealed the great reverence and love most of us have for our monarch.

How do you sum up such an amazing life and reign? I’m not sure. But in this slightly clumsily written acrostic poem I’ve tried my best to honour the Queen’s memory and convey my impressions of her character and reign as we seek to adjust and mourn her death. 

In memory of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth ll

Humble of spirit and of heart
Energetic, sporty, stalwart
Radiant with inner beauty 

Meticulous in her duty
Attentive to her responsibilities 
Joyous despite the formalities 
Exemplary in behaviour 
Secure in faith in her Saviour
Thoughtful with politicians 
Yielding to adverse conditions 

Qualified by God and man
Uniting vast continents
Erudite in her governing ways
Essential in holding sway 
National treasure in our land

Eminent and elegantly dressed
Longsuffering during life’s duress
Inspiring to others
Zealous on our behalf
A woman of substance and faith
Bright, courageous and brave
Enduring for many long years
Trustworthy, deserving of our cheers
Hospitable to friends and strangers 
© joylenton

rain: learning to dance in life’s rainfall

/ Joy Lenton / 2 Comments

“And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.” — Gilbert K. Chesterton


We’ve been blessed with a summer of mostly bright blue skies and unprecedented heatwaves in the UK, yet it’s left us desperate for the slightest sign of rain. Grass is as tinder-dry as straw, and leaves and plants are wilting into an early autumnal response.

When it did eventually rain recently, I watched with awe and felt like I wanted to dance in it. The air became clean and fresh and our hearts lifted. The sight, the sound, the joy of it was palpable.

Though there are times in our lives when joy departs and we feel as if we’re living under a dark cloud. One that temporarily blocks the sun or stays around for weeks and months.

It’s hard to savour the changing seasons if our souls stay parked in winter, but the poem below encourages us to maintain a brighter perspective as we look to the Source of all things who gives us hope to start again.

Let the rain fall

let the rain fall
let it saturate my soul
soft morning dew
mists of your holy breath
daisy fresh and mountain-hewed 

let the rain come
from darkened skies or touched
by rays of sun
may I open up my heart
ready to receive each drop

let the rain speak
as it fills me to the brim 
with inner joy
the kind that cannot be faked
and nothing can destroy

let the rain glisten
bright dewdrops from heaven
tiny little pearls
miniature gifts from above
reminding me of your love

let the rain quench
the thirst I have inside
assuage the ache
in the places hard and dry
and sluice away my mistakes
© joylenton

Perhaps we can learn to splash in the puddles and dance in the rain, and face the deluges and showers in our lives with equanimity. Whether they’re sudden and slight or prolonged and persistent, we can deliberately look for the joy and the light, the relief and reprieve, the comfort and calm, the rainbow promises which God brings to all hurting hearts.

Rain will come. We can’t always be prepared for it. As soaking sheets or delicate showers, rain won’t always be welcomed by us, but we can remind ourselves of the cover, the umbrella protectiveness which God provides over us with His overseeing care, compassion and love. Then we can say, “Let the rain fall.” with the courage, confidence and resilience which faith and hope bring to reassure us that all will be well.

“Healing rain is a real touch from God. It could be physical healing or emotional or whatever.” — Michael W. Smith

NOTE: This poem was extracted from my Sacred Noticing e-book which is on offer at Amazon from 02/09/22 to 07/09/22 as my birthday gift to you! If you would like a reminder of sunnier days, there’s a free printable pdf below of a poem called ‘Life on pause’ which is also extracted from Sacred Noticing. And you might like to read my first foray into fiction with a short story about a boy who dared speak the truth. Blessings and love. Xx 🙂 ❤

Life on pause poem by Joy Lenton