Morning Walk Revisited

This morning I walked willingly
omitting obligation
a grumpy fellowtraveler
Left him at home

I breathed
rain-washed earth pungency
I sang God’s praise
with robins and sparrows
I felt wind’s unwavering urgency

I absorbed Holy Spirit colors:
Deep blue morning glories
cascading over trellis ladders
Lush dense grass
wild from overnight storm
Orange palette day lilies
springing open at sunlight
Grey clouds superimposed
on bright white billows
with clear blue sky patches
peering through

Jesus,
breathe all vivid colors
of who you are
into my spirit’s lungs
willing me to live free
as you paint your image
in me

Nancy Godfrey
June 6, 2010

Today's Wings

A day stretches its wings
before me
bidding me to mount
and glide.

No stipulations.
No necessity.
No demands.

Just
Let’s fly.

I hardly know
how to say
Yes.

Can I banish
my to-do list?
Can I relinquish
my hesitancy to dismiss
my shoulds and oughts
from this day?

Can I soar
on eagle’s wings
breathlessly
expectantly
without guilt
into unexplored realms
of renewed strength?

How to let go
my own stilted conventions
and find God’s freedom
is no small task.

Even vocabulary
of spontaneity
in intimacy with Him
hides from me.

My ways have acquired
chore contours
the order of my days
constructed by lists
and shoulds and oughts -
when I do organize
when I’m not evading
eluding

lists
and shoulds
and oughts.

Guilt lurks
at conscience’s edge
stabbing
probing
needling
until each uncertain step

leaves bleeding footprint.

No wonder
I escape the shape
of days
I’ve fabricated
from bricks of blame.

So just for today
(and maybe tomorrow)
I’ll say

Yes.

I’ll sail
on Holy Spirit’s pinions
into abandon’s
unknown
uncharted
zone

Into Jesus’ smile.

NG

Blogging Overtakes My Thoughts

This is Day Twelve of my blog. I've now told family and friends about it. And I've received some encouraging remarks. One comment came by e-mail from a friend who didn't post it, but I'm going to repeat it anyway because it make me laugh: "I have read your blog. I like your blog. I expect to continue to read your blog. Don't you just love to write and say blog?" (Yes, I do.)

Pretty soon, I may stop thinking about my blog and talking about it so much, and I may start instead to post more entries. That would be the point, actually. So this post is just a few more remarks about blogging, and then maybe I'll get the topic out of my system (no promises).

I've found recently during my stream-of-consciousness string of thoughts I often stop and wonder whether a particular thought is blog-worthy. I begin to rephrase in my mind how I would say it on my blog. I mull it over and over, not just as a thought, an idea, or an internal conversation, but I examine it for Kaleidoscopic possibilities.

Now, I've always been a proponent of all those Wonderful Suggestions to People Who Aspire to Become Real Writers. One such recommendation that I've never incorporated into my everyday life is to carry around a notebook where I could jot down ideas. Not consistently, at least. So now, I'm going to do it. Do you believe me? I'm trying to believe me. I even have one in my purse. I even wrote down something in it during breakfast. That's a start - for this season.

And I'm trying to decide how or whether to add my poems (at least some of them) to my blog. I guess I can make up my own rules. It's my blog, after all. I'll have to see if I can archive them immediately in a section all their own. They like being together. And I think current posts should reflect current writings. I don't know why I think that, though. It's my blog, after all. I can make up my own rules.

NG

Second Reflections

Initiating a blog is harder work than I expected. But then expectations and reality rarely match in my small corner of the world. I just finished some tweakings to my blog, five days after my first tutorial by our new Psalms 45:1 facilitator. And when I compare my sparse little blogspot to those of my writers' group friends, I feel small and insignificant.

I want to say something to encourage myself, like "Just wait. Your pages will fill up. Your columns will flesh out. Your archives will become replete with your writings." And then I recognize this voice of encouragement comes from my Abba-Father. He's the source of my keystrokes. He's the inspiration for my consummate need to communicate. "Yes, my Nina," he says. "I have fashioned you for myself. I will not abandon you in this venture. You are mine."

And I am content. Tired at the end of a Mother's Day weekend. But content. NG

First Reflections

Kaleidoscope - a child's toy, made of broken bits of colorful glass, mirrors, a hollow tube, and a light source - kind of like my life. Look carefully, and see how wonderfully symmetrical the image becomes after the mirror of God's word and the light of Jesus have transformed the glass shards, over and over again. So, I begin. My own blog. A kaleidoscope of joy. NG