Friday, 16 November 2012


I'm joining Lisa-Jo and writing for 5 minutes this Friday.  Come on over and join in.


I can't stay where I am.  Much as I might like the fragile peace that today brings.  Today means I have food on my table, a roof over my head and clothes on my body.  I have a husband, much loved, and I have two precious, precious children.  I have these things only by the grace of God, and this year has been all too painful and I've been shown clearly that these things can be lost - gone - forever.  My daughter's life was so close to being lost, and now we take it one day at a time pulling the cancer cart.  And I want to stay in this day - where we live and breathe and can stay warm and safe together for a few hours before all may change and be different.  The big picture is not so pretty.  And in the bigger picture, I don't want to stay in this situation of too little work and the funds dwindle, and our home is only our home for how many days now?

And there's a call from distant shores to go and stay there as my mum begins her own journey with the fight of and for her life with leukaemia.  This pain and grief and loss is too difficult to stay in.  Stay in hope and light and peace, stay covered in prayer, stay standing, stay breathing and stay together - for this day, because that's what's been given and that's what we have.

Friday, 2 November 2012


Writing for 5 minutes on Friday from Lisa-Jo's site this morning.

Roots ~

I couldn't help but think of that song that says "I'm zipping up my boots, going back to my roots, to the place of my birth, back down to earth..."

I have sometimes thought that travel makes me rootless, but maybe it's living so far from home the call to return to my roots is just distantly whispering.  Sometimes it pulls really, really hard and right now, I'm rather like my orchid that is sitting just over there.  I can see it's spidery roots bursting from it's pot and stretching out for freedom.  Orchids have a shallow root ball and can easily be transplanted.  Yet they can still produce beauty and their fragility is stunning.  Am I an orchid in this season of trial?  It's been a long one - and I don't see much beauty, nor do I see spidery roots bursting for freedom.
Root bound.... like my cyclamen.... My mum said don't plant it in a pot too big because it likes to be root bound.  And it does.... it creates the most amazing blooms when it was in a too tiny pot.  When I did transplant it.... it didn't survive.  It got lost in the space surrounding it.

Do we just need to be held close and tight to feel safe and bloom, or do we need to be like that mighty oak tree, the seed that fell on good soil and just keeps on growing, it's roots growing surer and deeper and more steadfast every day, strong enough to weather every storm.....