sickness

Seeking shelter

/ Joy Lenton / 4 Comments

ashes of love file image ~ post on WoJ

Life can leach the life right out of us if we let it. Drain all vitality. Leave us limp and wilted as can be.

We seek a place to feel safe, free from harm, to rest and recuperate. A shelter for which our soul’s long.

My safe place? In my Saviour’s embrace. Beneath the shadow of His wings.

Clinging close to God’s side is where I want to abide.

And all the more as society (read:government-shaped attitudes) cause me to want to run and hide away.

There is no stable ground to be found in this world. All is shifting sand. Fickle and failing.

Those with sickness, disease and disabilities are increasingly marginalised and ostracised by a society quick to point fingers but slow to lift them to help.

Compassion doesn’t often seem to extend to those too ill to work. We are presumed to be lazy good-for-nothings, until proved otherwise.

The poem below was written out of my personal experience of living with M.E, fibromyalgia and other chronic illness for over 20 years.

I wasn’t going to write today, depleted and drained as I am. But God graced me with these words on a subject I feel strongly about.

It is also written in empathy and sympathy for all who suffer and to honour International ME/CSF/ & FM Awareness Day.

‘Silenced’

silenced PJ poem image

My voice is weak

Silenced by the strong

While I have a soul longing

to seek a place of shelter

Somewhere I can belong

Bathe these wounds

in Gilead’s balm

Receive oil of joy

to slip away from harm

Pain penetrates each day

Its probing fingers linger

like a stubborn stain

Leaving me weaker than before

Coated in a covering of shame

Living on the margins

Broken by its borders

A limp-ragged doll, I blink

wary eyes at society

and slink away to hide

Because I’m washed up

by its tide, become detritus

on the shore, breathless

in my distress, dis-ease

But the Healer hears and sees

Cradles His hurting child

Gathers her fragments, lost soul

Breathes new life, new hope

to restore and make her whole

©JoyLenton2015

beach low tide PJ poem pin

Reverberations of grace

/ Joy Lenton / 10 Comments

ripples of eternity PJ file image

God meets with us in the dust and detritus of our daily lives.

Here, right where we are, planted in ordinary, He grants us tastes of His extraordinary ways.

Sacred spaces exist in the secular. Holy sounds can be found all around.

And as I lay resting more than before, trying to recover from flu-induced extra weariness and weakness, God has been meeting with me most in the everyday.

Touching me with tenderness, revealing reminders of His grace, bringing beauty out of the ashes of adversity.

Yes, I yearn for strength, energy and ability to walk the earth, feel grass beneath my feet.

I long to be by the sea, sniff coastal breezes, breathe deep.

Yet here, confined as my life might currently be, there is no constraint which God’s Spirit cannot overcome.

He finds a way to whisper to hungry hearts, to touch limited lives with His liveliness.

Here’s what I heard while at rest recently…

‘Ripples’

Ripples of sound reverberate through

radiators like discordant chimes

They remind me of times when I can

blow hot and cold in my emotions

and require God’s radiant heat

to slow and steady me

with the warmth of its beat

Swish-bend of trees, reaching high

then low to earth is a dance

stirred by Holy Spirit sighs

And it reminds me of the need

to remain supple in my soul

while God oils each crack and crevice

of its bark to make me whole

White-plumped pillows cradling

my head as I slumber-rest

within this bed are reminders

of the way I’m held fast

in God’s loving embrace as He

speaks peace to soothe this hour

and gently smooth out the days

Curtains closed to guard light-wary

eyes against invading bright rays

provide a shield whereby

I’m reminded of protection

from above, where worldly

darkness can never conceal

penetrating grace and love

©JoyLenton2015

 *Manna crumbs*

Bread baked for me image on WoJ

 Home comforts:hot drinks, meals, company and conversation, bed, quiet and dark where needed

Symptoms less severe, improvement knocking at the door, healing closer than before

Being soothed by God’s voice when my soul grows fretful, noisy in its haste to be well

Given whispered poetic words to share 

Seeing grace reverberating in daily life ~ here, there and everywhere ~ #1000gifts of grace

Lost time

/ Joy Lenton / 10 Comments

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? 

Flight into freedom

/ Joy Lenton / 8 Comments

When pain presses in hard we find ourselves longing for freedom.

Chained to ground.

Desperate to escape the shackles.

Looking for a way to live lightly and freely.

Get beyond the everyday struggles.

Seeking goodness. Seeking grace. Seeking God’s face.

Longing for our eternal home.

‘Flying free’

I want to fly free

from all that keeps me

in captivity,

all that imprisons a frail body

held fast and earthbound.

To move with the flow and embrace

Holy Spirit’s current of grace.

Soar above the ground

above all circumstance and place,

all sound and sight

of fallen humanity

into a space

where You dwell

and all is Light.

Become as bird, eagle borne

given strength to flee

and rise above this earthly frame

tied down, weighted fast

with sickness, sin and shame.

Fly into Love’s fragrant air

breathe deep and easy,

no pain or suffering anywhere.

With mind, body, spirit as one

stretch out to reach glorious Son,

feel heat of His radiant rays

filling all moments, hours and days.

Dance to the beat of His song

of freedom beckoning now

whispering softly

 urging me on.

One day I will truly fly

arise and drift beyond

these mortal skies

at last.

©JoyLenton2013

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” ~ Isaiah 40:31

Linking here with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday. This week’s prompt is:‘Fly’  You are warmly invited and welcome to join in.