Out of mist

december mist

Waking up to morning mist, I sense the otherworldliness of its obscurity.

Sight is dimmed. Senses dulled as dishwater.

Lost in fog. Muffled morphed outlines rising as shadows.

No compass points defining end from beginning.

December chill making body feel stilled as statue.

And here am I… frozen in poetic thought as the kettle boils hot…

As mist

Watching steam clouds billow reminds me
how our lives are but mist in lens of eternity
our deepest desires and dreams, hopes and schemes
in danger of being fizz, evanescence become
melting puddles of deliquescence
seeping into nothingness.


And all pleasures rise high as steam
then fall away as vapour dissipating
into darkness too dense for us to hold.
For all is fleeting, all is change, all is meeting place
where we surrender our goals and plans,
then taking up God’s gift of grace
we can sink restful, with trusting sigh,
leaving all to be rearranged by His loving hands.


He gathers every scattered act and thought
to make-over, remould good and true,
weaving them into a tapestry of His own design
where nought is wasted
only caught, drawn fine and new into
a lasting beauty to behold.
©JoyLenton

Misted wintry days remind me of how fleeting and changeable our dreams and schemes can be.

Though all desires surrendered to God become enlarged at His hands and so much more than we ever envisaged.

Happiness can vanish in an instant, ephemeral, lost in the ether.

Lasting, solid joy is found in relationship with God and following His ways for our lives.

He transforms everything by His grace. Makes us come alive on the inside.

Making beauty from brokenness, from the scattered ashes of our lives.

as mist poem pin image

A wintry perspective

Perspective file image

As one in the autumnal season of her life, I feel the cool approach of winter as something of a reproach.

The harvest season is over for another year. All fruitfulness is vanishing.

Time slides inexorably onwards and the hour-glass gets bottom-heavy.

Minds seize and freeze over and opportunities seem to have died on the vine.

But what if we looked at it differently?

See winter season (physical and otherwise) as one of taking a pregnant pause.

Ground may feel unyielding and hard but much activity goes on beneath the surface.

Dormancy paves the way to expectancy. Spring will come again.

Sometimes we fail to see the wood for the trees. Sap will rise anew.

Each stripping bare, dying back and lying fallow are ways to seek soul sanctuary in God alone.

A season of rest and retreat may be called for. A season to press ‘pause’ on the pursuit of busyness.

A gathering of words and ideas ready to share at Just The Right Moment. I’m heavy with some.

I have a book (or three) I long to give birth to.

A poetry anthology has been a while in the making, compiling and sorting. A devotional book of Prayer Whispers. A memoir.

But nothing is quite ready yet. My physical and mental energy are low, many other demands are being made on me, and God seems to be saying He’s in no rush.

So I wait and lean and learn as my seed sits in the ground growing slow and steady.

Because the best part of a wintry season is the hope is produces in stilled hearts and minds. It holds purpose in the pauses. God is still at work on our behalf. There is beauty in every season of life.

‘A wintry view’

You sit with an autumnal life

surrounded by abundance bright

as you wait for a gradual dying-back

harvest to fall into your thankful lap

Yet hopes can wither over time

unless they’re rooted in The Vine

From my perspective of a wintry view

life takes on a slower, softer, mellow hue

You’re grateful for these lengthening days

as further opportunity to praise

Friends and family remain the greater part

of all you hold dear within your heart

Though there is a Friend, just like a brother,

who sticks closer than any other

He is the One who lights your days

with His constant love and grace

You’ve grown calmer, more serene,

with wisdom visible within

because you’ve learnt it all from Him

Pain and fatigue still pervade your days

You’re grateful when good sleep comes your way

Insecurity stalks you less and less

as do impatience, strain and stress

For you have learnt to relax, yield your life,

found peace is better than struggle and strife

Your dreams, hopes, goals and plans

became a reality in God’s hands

So rest easy, dear fretful, younger version of me,

getting older is not as bad as it seems to be

©JoyLenton2014

“The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, “The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him” ~ Psalm 92:12-15

A wintry view poem pin PJ file image

My wintry perspective is a poetic twist inspired by the challenge set here by my writer friend, James Prescott. Do take a look at his amazing post and be inspired!

I have imagined myself as a more senior woman (around 20 years older than my current age) writing a letter to myself as I am now.

It’s lent itself to a great deal of reflection and may also morph into a post on ‘Words of Joy’ in time to come. 

Longing to move

dancing queen PJ  file image

‘Final fling’

‘Dancing Queen’ did it for me

My final fling before

becoming so ill with M.E

I haven’t danced since

at a wedding, or some other place

If I did I’d probably fall

completely flat on my face

But I long to move

with style, rhythm,

ease and grace

For these limbs to

writhe smooth, and free from

stiffness, pain, infirmity

No fatigue would

slow me down

I’d be able to

walk all over town

to stride out with

confidence and strength

instead of limping along

in a weakened state

Maybe one day…

I will move with new style,

with energy and pace

For now… I rest, watch others,

wait here patient a while

sit still, with happy-tappy feet

and a wistful smile on my face

©JoyLenton2014

Now, I dance on the inside as my soul rejoices to know God’s goodness and grace. There is no confinement or constraint to inner vibrancy and joy.

“You have turned my sorrow into joyful dancing. No longer am I sad and wearing sackcloth. I thank you from my heart, and I will never stop singing your praises, my Lord and my God” ~ Psalm 30:11 – 12 (CEV)

girl dancing PJ file pin image

balloon 31 days blog file image 2014

This post is  the first of my #31days of writing brave and free.

Today I am inspired by the word ‘Move’ from Kate Motaung’s list of daily writing prompts that you can find here.

I will be joining in on an ad hoc, informal basis as energy and strength allow me too.

For more details please read this post over at ‘Word of Joy’. I hope you will be inspired to join in too!