This is my calling

calling -way forward PJ

Finding our calling in life can feel like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

How do we separate out the wheat from the chaff?

We look for a way forward and find ourselves going in circles.

How can we decide what to focus on to the exclusion of other things, or which path to pursue if we neglect another?

Because in seeking the best we may have to lay aside what seems better, or worthy of our attention.

Perhaps it’s not necessarily a vocation, a task which only we can do, a unique way of life.

Maybe our calling is more of a recognition of what really matters to us, what fuels our passions and drives our desires.

That used to be nursing for me, becoming a wife and raising a family. Then it became more about seeing what God laid on my heart, supporting others who are sick and struggling with chronic illness, being a writer and encourager.

As I pondered on the word ‘calling’ I was drawn more to reveal its hidden depths than to dwell on a single thing of significance.

And as a Christian, I consider above all things that my calling is to live a surrendered, authentic life in the light of God’s Word, by the power of His Spirit and in obedience to Him.

It will be a pathway that others follow, but it will look different on each one of us as we live out our unique, God-given place and purpose in this world.

This is my calling

This life which I own as mine

Days unfolding over time

This is my calling

The way I make my faith-walk

How I behave and how I talk

This is my calling

Being seen and being heard

as I share God’s saving Word

This is my calling

Listening and being aware

what, when, where I need to share

This is my calling

Encouraging others and being kind

Turning the cheek, trying not to mind

This is my calling

Seeing and sensing God’s hand in this world

Helping His purpose become unfurled

This is my calling

©JoyLenton2015

calling - PJ pin

This post is the first part of #31days of five-minute-free-writes as prompted by the #FMF writing community. You can see the writing prompts for the rest of October and find out more here.

Five-Minute-Free-Writes-button

I’ll be taking part on an ad hoc basis as and when I have energy and inspiration enough to do  so. You’re warmly invited to join us.

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. 

Moments in time

That ‘Monday morning’ feeling can sneak up on a person. Blues breathe their fumes all over the day, leaking into the rest of the week.

Maybe I’m feeling my age. A body’s aches and pains pave the way to pivotal thinking.

A new week begins and life moves on. There is no way to grasp back time.

Maybe I’m more aware of my mortality.

This life spans out with defined end points. A gateway to the grave.

And I am hungry to redeem whatever time is left. Capture the essence of it all.

Be aware of each precious moment.

Live with an attitude of gratitude.

Listen to my life.

“Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him” ~ Frederick Beuchner

Hear Holy Spirit speaking. Sense His whispers on the wind.

Heed the call to live life as fully and freely as possible.

Because each breath and each day is gift; every moment is grace.

And I know I need to be ready to embrace change ~ even as I cling to God’s grace to let go of familiar.

‘Time’

Centuries chronicle events in cement

Hours herald a pause, point, purpose

Rivers run into tides of transformation

Omega opens a final pathway to tread

No mere mortal can stem the flow

Old originating in the new, ad infinitum

Seconds, seasons and sadness signal its passing

©JoyLenton2014

‘Chronos’

Time on the move 

 a barely perceptible stream

which goes before  

 flows in-between and after

time as the future

 passing through the present

 and becoming the past

 sequential  and eventual

sliding on fast

 to its final descent

©JoyLenton2014

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

How do you feel about redeeming the time and making the most of the moments?

 

Lost time

Do you ever wonder where time disappears to? Me too.

Each and every one of us has the same 24 hour allocation yet none of us will spend those hours in exactly the same way.

As an M.E and chronic illness sufferer, time may seem endless in terms of hoping for improvement and recovery.

Sleep can prove elusive and erratic.

Rest is far from restful if pain intrudes too much.

The life I dream of seems to slip through my fingers like grains of sand while I scramble to catch them.

Where did all those wasted minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and even years go?

I was laid low,  or slept through many of them.

Moans at midnight.  Sighs at dawn.  A body rising stiff to greet a day already half over for many.

Here I am:

A woman with training and experience that lies wasted.

A nurse needing care myself.

A poet penning in PJs.

A wife without the means to be a proper helpmate or companion.

I wrote the poem below at such a time of introspection. It spoke for how I felt then and may speak into your situation too.

‘Black Hole’

There’s a space

in my life

where time disappears

down a black hole

already littered

with discarded hopes

dreams and desires

enough to fill

several craters

stacked high

or light

a multitude

of funeral pyres

Where does it all go?

How do these things

slip away

from my grasp

writhing hither and thither

with eel-like slither

when all I want

to do

is clasp them

to my heart

and cry, “Stay!”

Maybe I’ve

risked too much

extended thought

and expended energy

on things not

really meant to be

some crazy schemes

foolish inanities

to become

a bonfire

of the vanities

©JoyLenton2013

And yet..

This is looking at things from a limited human perspective only.

Time is redeemable when our days and ways are surrendered to the One beyond its restrictions.

He uses everything in our lives for His purposes. Not a crumb is wasted.

How do you feel about time disappearing? 

On a day like this

Each new day holds hope and potential, promise and purpose to be revealed.

Each day is gift and blessing to unfold.

Only some days feel heavy and weighty.

Time disappears and nothing gets done.

Moments slip away like sand.

I have many days like that with M.E when symptoms are worse.

All that can be done is to ‘go with the flow’, be it turgid and slow.

The poem below was written on such a day as this.

‘This day’

This is a day for sheltered darkness ~

windows closed tight ‘gainst sound and sight

curtains shielding all piercing light,

weary frame resting in the bed

trying to still restless thoughts in my head,

feeling weak, exhausted and drained

in a body racked with pulsating pain

as I wonder ~ with some despair ~

if this pain will ever cease or disappear.

And I sense Holy Spirit’s soft caress

in my heart as He draws near

to impart wisdom in the way He does best.

For He can calm and still every storm

bring comfort to all who are lost or forlorn,

bring hope, joy and peace again

to heart, mind and body

made heavy with pain.

All God is asking of me today

is to sink grateful, restful

into His loving embrace

and drink deep draughts

of His sustaining grace,

trust and believe for healing

in days yet to come

while He keeps revealing

strength to endure

this particular one.

©JoyLenton2013

These seasons of pain, stress, strain and disease literally drive us to our knees and make us cry out to God for help and relief.

They are what shape and make us even as they seem to break us.

God knows. He hears our unspoken fears. Sees tears shed and fall and captures them all. Nothing gets past Him.

And when it feels like we cannot go on a minute longer, there is grace given to endure and perseverance to make us stronger than we were before.

Christ-like character is honed in the furnace of affliction and deep spiritual work takes place within.

We can take heart as the heat and flames lick ever closer, knowing our God is in the midst of them with us and will bring us out the other side ~ with ash and soot clinging to our frame maybe ~ but with a deeper dependence on His grace and mercy.

********

Day 31 of 31 days of #poetryforthesoul ~ Thank you for accompanying me on this journey, even if it has taken longer than anticipated! I hope you have enjoyed the variety offered.

And if you are new here, do feel free to check out previous posts. If you have a favourite please let me know as it may find its way into a future anthology. Thanks! I really appreciate you stopping by.