Becoming accustomed to silence
Again
Emptying out
All detritus
Stuffed
Into empty spaces
In my soul
Asking God
To teach me
About the caverns –
Created by circumstances
Or congenital?
Welcoming cessation of sound
Giving peace opportunity
To reign
Over scattered thoughts
Stream of consciousness
Unending conversations
In my head
Ceasing
Calming
Quieting
Resting
Only by tranquility
Can I hear
Softness of Savior’s voice
Whispering sweet words of sanction
Hush now
Be still
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Reconnecting
Lord, you never
never
disconnected
from me.
It was I
who said goodbye
see you later
whenever I can figure out
what I’m escaping from
what I’m withdrawing
to avoid.
Nina, my silly, silly child,
trying to find answers
apart from me
author of the universe
lover of your soul.
How did you
think to disconnect
from me
when I indwell you
go before you
walk beside you
on your right hand
and your left,
when I protect
you from behind?
So my silence on written page
my reluctance
to open the book you’ve
already written to me
formed no barrier between us?
My love knows
no boundary.
I do not recognize
your disconnection.
Bring your questions
to me.
Though I may not answer,
you can trust me
to listen and love.
We will journey together
to your destiny’s end.
Along the way
you will fall more and more
in love with me.
Love is my desire for you,
not that you match your actions
to your own ideas
of what I want.
Walk with me
not by precept
but by proximity.
Set no standards for success
except our mutual joy.
I take your hand
my Lord.
My heart is yours.
I delight
in our dance.
Nancy Godfrey
June 25, 2006
never
disconnected
from me.
It was I
who said goodbye
see you later
whenever I can figure out
what I’m escaping from
what I’m withdrawing
to avoid.
Nina, my silly, silly child,
trying to find answers
apart from me
author of the universe
lover of your soul.
How did you
think to disconnect
from me
when I indwell you
go before you
walk beside you
on your right hand
and your left,
when I protect
you from behind?
So my silence on written page
my reluctance
to open the book you’ve
already written to me
formed no barrier between us?
My love knows
no boundary.
I do not recognize
your disconnection.
Bring your questions
to me.
Though I may not answer,
you can trust me
to listen and love.
We will journey together
to your destiny’s end.
Along the way
you will fall more and more
in love with me.
Love is my desire for you,
not that you match your actions
to your own ideas
of what I want.
Walk with me
not by precept
but by proximity.
Set no standards for success
except our mutual joy.
I take your hand
my Lord.
My heart is yours.
I delight
in our dance.
Nancy Godfrey
June 25, 2006
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Your Word Lives
Your word
lives
my Lord
As I peruse
its sentences and paragraphs
chapters and books
you inhabit every syllable
you infuse every letter
of every word
with Holy Spirit strength
you create rhema words
that leap off the page
into the core
of my soul
The more I read your word
Abba-Father
the more it reads me
I find myself
in your writings
You tucked me
into every line
every story
every truth
Some days
when I open your word
it sifts my motives
challenges my thoughts
pierces my heart
I come away
exposed
wounded
torn apart
But because you energize
your word
with healing power
the pain is safe
When I am open
defenseless
naked before you
only then can you
reshape reform remake me
into the image
of the one
who indwells each segment
of your word:
Jesus.
Nancy Godfrey
Hebrews 4:12-13
February 13, 2007
lives
my Lord
As I peruse
its sentences and paragraphs
chapters and books
you inhabit every syllable
you infuse every letter
of every word
with Holy Spirit strength
you create rhema words
that leap off the page
into the core
of my soul
The more I read your word
Abba-Father
the more it reads me
I find myself
in your writings
You tucked me
into every line
every story
every truth
Some days
when I open your word
it sifts my motives
challenges my thoughts
pierces my heart
I come away
exposed
wounded
torn apart
But because you energize
your word
with healing power
the pain is safe
When I am open
defenseless
naked before you
only then can you
reshape reform remake me
into the image
of the one
who indwells each segment
of your word:
Jesus.
Nancy Godfrey
Hebrews 4:12-13
February 13, 2007
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Today's Wings
A day stretches its wings
before me
bidding me to mount
and glide.
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
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
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
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
Sunday, July 5, 2009
It's a Long Road from Insight to Change
No posts since June 9. Hmmm. Where is the fervor with which I started this blog? Granted, I'm still thinking blogically. Several ideas have presented themselves. One has lingered and taken shape in my Quiet Time. I'll need a bit of courage to post it, because the topic lays me bare and challenges me to change - not my favorite activity in life.
So here goes.
In the main women’s restroom at my workplace, there are three sinks for hand washing. My habit is to use the one on the right, closest to the paper towel dispenser. To understand this story properly, you must know that the faucets operate by motion sensors. Place your hands under the spigot and voila! The water magically emerges. (My habituation to this phenomenon has led to numerous semi-embarrassing moments in public restrooms whose faucets do not automatically dispense water, as I place my hands under the spigot and wait and wait, until I remember to turn the water on.)
Enough for background information. About two weeks ago, the fixture on Sink #3 (reading left to right) became totally inoperable. I can place my hands under the spigot for however long I want, but the water never comes forth. Now, you’d think I’d remember this and choose Sink #1 or Sink #2, but habit motivates my behavior more than I care to admit. And more often than not, I head straight for Sink #3, cup my hands, and wait in vain.
As I was pondering this development, I realized it is a snapshot of another habit I’m struggling with. I’m addicted to the TV. One of the manifestations of this addiction is that I can sit on my couch for large chunks of time, remote in hand, flipping from channel to channel, trying to find a program of interest. At the end of each such session, I’m faced with the truth that I’ve watched nothing. Nothing comes forth from the TV to satisfy whatever need has led me to it. Nothing.
You’d think I’d catch on. You’d think I’d cease-and-desist from a behavior that has no payoff. No water, choose a different sink. No emotional or spiritual reward – put down the remote and turn the TV off. Well, actually, that’s not the parallel action, is it? No reward – don’t turn on the TV.
Unfortunately - so far - the insight afforded by this analogy has not produced significant or lasting behavioral change in either the hand-washing or the TV-watching venues. But fortunately I have a resource in my Abba-Father, whose influence goes well beyond my own ability to alter conduct.
"Kaleidoscope - The Lord of the universe transforms broken pieces of glass into images of infinite beauty and colorful delight." I've placed the emphasis on the broken pieces in this writing. But my focus remains fixed on the Lord of the universe. I have consummate confidence in His desire and ability to perfect the transformation of this image - little by little. Find hope and encouragement here, Nancy, and remember to laugh.
So here goes.
In the main women’s restroom at my workplace, there are three sinks for hand washing. My habit is to use the one on the right, closest to the paper towel dispenser. To understand this story properly, you must know that the faucets operate by motion sensors. Place your hands under the spigot and voila! The water magically emerges. (My habituation to this phenomenon has led to numerous semi-embarrassing moments in public restrooms whose faucets do not automatically dispense water, as I place my hands under the spigot and wait and wait, until I remember to turn the water on.)
Enough for background information. About two weeks ago, the fixture on Sink #3 (reading left to right) became totally inoperable. I can place my hands under the spigot for however long I want, but the water never comes forth. Now, you’d think I’d remember this and choose Sink #1 or Sink #2, but habit motivates my behavior more than I care to admit. And more often than not, I head straight for Sink #3, cup my hands, and wait in vain.
As I was pondering this development, I realized it is a snapshot of another habit I’m struggling with. I’m addicted to the TV. One of the manifestations of this addiction is that I can sit on my couch for large chunks of time, remote in hand, flipping from channel to channel, trying to find a program of interest. At the end of each such session, I’m faced with the truth that I’ve watched nothing. Nothing comes forth from the TV to satisfy whatever need has led me to it. Nothing.
You’d think I’d catch on. You’d think I’d cease-and-desist from a behavior that has no payoff. No water, choose a different sink. No emotional or spiritual reward – put down the remote and turn the TV off. Well, actually, that’s not the parallel action, is it? No reward – don’t turn on the TV.
Unfortunately - so far - the insight afforded by this analogy has not produced significant or lasting behavioral change in either the hand-washing or the TV-watching venues. But fortunately I have a resource in my Abba-Father, whose influence goes well beyond my own ability to alter conduct.
"Kaleidoscope - The Lord of the universe transforms broken pieces of glass into images of infinite beauty and colorful delight." I've placed the emphasis on the broken pieces in this writing. But my focus remains fixed on the Lord of the universe. I have consummate confidence in His desire and ability to perfect the transformation of this image - little by little. Find hope and encouragement here, Nancy, and remember to laugh.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Clutter
This is a piece I do not want to write. But the topic keeps flitting across my consciousness, harassing me with its clattery insistence.
My resistance arises from fear. I fear writing about the clutter I can see because inevitably, inexorably, it will lead to writing about the clutter I can’t see – the clutter inside.
Clutter is cleverly unobtrusive in its assault tactics. A pair of earrings on the living room end table. A few dirty dishes left in the sink. A sweater on the back of a dining room chair. Unsorted mail stacked on the couch arm. It all adds up. It quietly accumulates, one piece at a time. Nothing major. Just a little here, a little there. A box of Lincoln logs abandoned by the grandchildren. A ball. A stuffed toy. A sewing box on the sofa.
What happened to my perfectly de-cluttered apartment!?!?!
My resistance arises from fear. I fear writing about the clutter I can see because inevitably, inexorably, it will lead to writing about the clutter I can’t see – the clutter inside.
Clutter is cleverly unobtrusive in its assault tactics. A pair of earrings on the living room end table. A few dirty dishes left in the sink. A sweater on the back of a dining room chair. Unsorted mail stacked on the couch arm. It all adds up. It quietly accumulates, one piece at a time. Nothing major. Just a little here, a little there. A box of Lincoln logs abandoned by the grandchildren. A ball. A stuffed toy. A sewing box on the sofa.
What happened to my perfectly de-cluttered apartment!?!?!
Friday, May 29, 2009
Hmmmmmmm...
Here’s a strange phenomenon.
My wireless mouse, my cell phone, my cordless land phone, and my TV remote all resemble each other. A lot.
My motif is black with silver trim, and I didn’t even plan them all to match. The mouse and land phone were gifts from my oldest daughter. The remote was donated by my youngest daughter. My cell is so old, it’s just a few centimeters shy of being as fat as the mouse (think 3-year-old Samsung flip up).
So far, I have tried to move my cursor with my cell phone, and I once tried to answer my mouse. I guess my confusion may arise from the fact that I keep them beside me, as I sit on my couch with my laptop on my lap (where else?).
You see, I spend much of my time at home as follows: typing my conversations with God, writing blogs, reading blogs, reading the Bible (though not as much as I should, which I must confess, lest I have to write an apology post for trying to make myself sound more spiritually-disciplined than I am), reading my current novel, watching TV, and not watching TV – the pastimes I carefully weave into the weekday evenings and weekend morning-to-afternoon tapestries of my life.
But in my own defense, so far, I haven’t tried to mute my TV with my cordless, though it does have a mute key. And I haven’t tried to answer my remote, though I do talk to my TV.
Is there any hope for me? Is this phenomenon an early sign of Alzheimer’s? Should I purchase a pet? One I can train to discern the subtle differences among my small battery-driven devices?
As I travel further along in blogdom, I’m no longer waking up at 4:00 AM thinking about what I will write, but for a while, I will continue to play with a silly idea and see how it turns out. It’s my blog, after all. I can make up my own rules.
NG
My wireless mouse, my cell phone, my cordless land phone, and my TV remote all resemble each other. A lot.
My motif is black with silver trim, and I didn’t even plan them all to match. The mouse and land phone were gifts from my oldest daughter. The remote was donated by my youngest daughter. My cell is so old, it’s just a few centimeters shy of being as fat as the mouse (think 3-year-old Samsung flip up).
So far, I have tried to move my cursor with my cell phone, and I once tried to answer my mouse. I guess my confusion may arise from the fact that I keep them beside me, as I sit on my couch with my laptop on my lap (where else?).
You see, I spend much of my time at home as follows: typing my conversations with God, writing blogs, reading blogs, reading the Bible (though not as much as I should, which I must confess, lest I have to write an apology post for trying to make myself sound more spiritually-disciplined than I am), reading my current novel, watching TV, and not watching TV – the pastimes I carefully weave into the weekday evenings and weekend morning-to-afternoon tapestries of my life.
But in my own defense, so far, I haven’t tried to mute my TV with my cordless, though it does have a mute key. And I haven’t tried to answer my remote, though I do talk to my TV.
Is there any hope for me? Is this phenomenon an early sign of Alzheimer’s? Should I purchase a pet? One I can train to discern the subtle differences among my small battery-driven devices?
As I travel further along in blogdom, I’m no longer waking up at 4:00 AM thinking about what I will write, but for a while, I will continue to play with a silly idea and see how it turns out. It’s my blog, after all. I can make up my own rules.
NG
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