Truthseeker

Truth dear heart is absolute, not subjective.

It does not come in shades of grey…changeable like stage costumes. It is seldom choreographed, never rehearsed….it does not fear exposure.

Viewing truth from different angles does not change its composition .

Its solid, not vapor.

It stands alone sure footed not needing to survive afloat on the slanderous tear downs of another.

What is,is.

All the lies on earth don’t change the facts .

Truth is buoyant. You can’t keep it sunken down, no matter how hard you try .

Fakery breeds false comfort .Its the calm before the storm.

Even truth seekers can be deceived if the lies are comfortable enough to snuggle down into.

If they support the picture dear hearts crave to hold then we dive in blindly mesmerized by possibility and empty promises.

And can you blame us ?

I’ve jumped to by a line.Led by love and the false hope the lie birthed.

I, who should have known better ,sort truth and brought the lie, the con, the scam…..price paid but to late to avoid collateral damage.

Did you know crocodile tears aren’t just shed by crocodiles? Consider them costume jewelry ,all a part of the show.

Oh dear hearts, please learn from my mistakes!

Please learn to not just see but seek it out .That truth amongst the tangled webs ,even if its hard to swallow.

For these little hearts that I hold so close I pray they always value honesty above all else.

That they love fiercely and forgive freely but are wise enough to spot deception a mile off and bold enough to call it out .

I want them to know that forgiveness is the holy home of freedom .

I pray they are less easily fooled then I.

That they know their worth is based on the intrinsic value of their soul and nothing else.

That they are ever loved !

That they are wiser then I .

That they have compassion for broken ones but safe enough regard for self to not be broken down by them.

I pray they have courage enough to know their limits ,brave enough to hold firm boundaries.

To know there is more honor in a painful truth then face saving white lies.

To be brave enough to be authentic always .To never loose their fight.

To never compromise their values or sell their souls for transient things.

To know the difference between real hope and empty words that only offer make believe.

I strive to teach them to see souls ,not faces .Not eyes and hands but hearts . To see the scars and the landscapes of those inner places that make us who we are .

To know the power that they hold and to always use it justly.

For them to know compassion ,forgiveness and truth will always take us further then bitterness and anger but that anger has its place … just don’t stay there to long.

That grace and mercy are divinely given into overflow when called up on.

To see the worth of showing up for hard conversations and the merit in asking harder questions .

To try to always speak truth in love.

That love is a gift ,but trust is earnt ….and to never sell themselves short in that regard.

That hearts do break but then they heal .

That fires don’t always mean destruction but can refine hearts and lives into the purest form .

To not fear the storms just because we feel the wind and rain.

That there are better days ahead.

That they are worthy of love , of truth , of respect and dignity.

To settle for nothing less.

That life is hard , but God is good and tomorrow always comes.

Ashes



It is possible to live at the bottom..exist at basement level…waste a life holding onto fakery..projecting to the world what isn’t.

Fear and her lover Pride seek to keep us beaten down and stuck. Twisted ,contorted ,deformed and devoured by the lies they spin and we are burnt away to ashes in the inferno they create. 

They lock us into cycles that do nothing but shackle us and snatch light from our days.

I guess to find a life again one must let go of everything you thought it would be and jump eyes wide open into the uncertainty of tomorrow.

It takes muscle to find courage and face fear head on.

Truth is strength, its kryptonite to pride.

Truth shatters pride crushing it till all that’s left is raw integrity lying amongst the dust.

It creates breathing room for new beginnings .  

Honesty is owning mistakes..shouldering the weight and lifting it higher.

Forgiveness I’ve found holds keys to freedom… It gives a soul wings to soar.

Humility makes for lighter hearts..it climbs ladders that pride never could.

After all you cant remedy what you won’t acknowledge.
Can’t rebuild with broken glass…

I’m learning healing comes at dust level. When there’s nothing left to hold. Nothing to lose.

Ashes are where it’s at.

So in this upside-down existence, Im finding destruction is building.
Chaos  life-giving. 
Pain is the beginning of healings walk.
Dust and even scattered ashes are heaven blessed.


Divine love breathes hope into hopeless spaces.. and nothing is beyond mercies reach .

Honesty is everything. For there is nothing without her light.

…And in her glow we are found so beautifully broken that this bottom we have hit signals that the only way from here is up.

 

 

 

 

 

She is….(for B ❤)

Impossibly flawed and oh so broken…still she walks as queen.

Head held higher defying the ache inside.

Youd never know the depths of sorrows overcome. She is victorious .

Her integrity is made complete by humilities seasoning.
She is beauty and brokeness all at once.
A masterpiece in the making.
Dust refined into being by the artists hands.

She carries the blue prints of heaven deep in her soul.
Her path is kingdom laid .

The presence of ten thousand angels feed her courage .

She walks encircled.

Wisdom of the ages is at her beck and call.

With each stride made grace pours down and washes the earth beneath her feet.
She is holy and this now holy ground.

Sanctified and sacred.

Her beauty elemental.

Flowing like a current from soul deep…

down rivers of cracked and broken
out her finger tips into the atmosphere.
She’s electric.
Intricate, one of a kind.

Irreplaceable, unforgettable, indefinable.

She cannot and will not be contained. Her soul has swum deeper than any ocean.
Her prayers break through the outer reaches of furthest galaxies.
She is not limited by time and space.

Infinite and wild as any raging sea.

Her faith and compassion stand her tall.
Though she may be knocked down broken she will never be destroyed.
She knows how to rise.
She is master swordsman.

When She lifts her gaze to higher things the heavens are her home.
Loyalty is on her breath..faithful her hearts cry.

She is a master at connection.
Built for depth and real.
A wellspring of hope and light into darkest stratospheres.

 

Grace is her garment.
Peace her shoes.
Truth her battle cry.
Crown of glory adorns her head
Mercy falls from her lips like a waterfall…washing healing over all she encounters.

She speaks the language of  angels.
Her heart is held safe in the hands of the divine.
Honor runs through her veins.

Her eyes behold the unseen.Shes gifted insight into tomorrow.

She lifts her voice with sure authority. She will not be silence.

Created for freedoms call. To advance and not be halted.

Her heart is guarded by discernment. She takes pause, waits for clarity.

She is unrushed and sure footed.
Time and season don’t define her.

Love and belonging is her legacy. Wholeness and completion her birthright.
Freedom her inheritance

Destiny dances in whimsical abandonment before her eyes and shes confident in the script she lives knowing all of heaven goes before her.Testing the way..weaving a path.. orchestrating it all for good.

 

The pursuit of happiness

Seems a lot of people live their life in pursuit of ” happiness ” and compromise anything and everything to attain it. … I’d argue its less about your circumstance and more about recognising the value of what you already have.

Is what you behold weight or blessing? Cause I’m finding blessings are by nature weighty and oh so worth the strain.

 

 

 

Grace upon grace

Grace….how heavy life would be,

how hopeless if not for grace.


Grace brings rebirth.


Renewing..

Grace means it’s not what you bring to the table…. but who you are.


Grace says it’s not all up to you.


Grace turns vulnerability into strength unparalleled.


It’s not the measure of your worth by your accomplishments but the intrinsic value of your soul.


Grace is the gentle whisper that says try again tomorrow.


Grace says that you are worthy of love.


Grace breathes forgiveness, hope and lights up darkest valleys with promise.

Grace says you are enough.

You can overcome.

Grace holds space.. Pauses time. Rewrites legacy.


Grace craves integrity, walks hand in hand with courage to seek honesty in everything.

Grace dissolves shame and fear..

Births hope into the darkest atmospheres.


Grace says there is always hope.

 

Precipitation .

Raging fires and devastating drought have overwhelmed this part of the world that we call home and it really has felt like life imploded over the last twelve months.

Like the internal and external environments around us have reflected and refracted the same theme and there’s been little reprieve from the onslaught..

Impossible diagnosis had launched herself into our stratosphere and we were caught in the whirlwind of trying to process exactly what those words would mean to the way life needed to be walked.

January held Acute Myeloid Leukemia,

June a heart attack then strokes x 4 Life shattering disability following in its wake

August marriage and family collapsed in an avalanche of lies undone. If lies were liquid the drought would have broke by now a thousand times over.

But they arnt so water got scarcer. The green pastures turned to dry cracked earth and trees and gardens of our own oasis die.

Temperatures rise quickly with summer coming earlier then she used to . No afternoon storms this year to break the heat. Just hot dry parched landscape. Selfishly I’m thankful for their lack. Storm watching was a favorite pass time in years of love gone by.

Fire season struck with vengeance burning hard and fast with no escape It seemed the whole world might burn and there was no stopping it.

The blue sky disappearing behind walls of smoke for weeks on end the earth here bathed in orange glow. Nights moon shone red through the acrid haze. Ash fall on everything and its like gazing at life through a sepia lense.

Colourless…void and dying.

But we were blessed . Spared the losses that others have faced …it stopped being a question of if but when the fires come and I realised that was exactly like our life.

Inevitable it is that pain will come. Heartache is it seems an equal opportunist of truest form.

And whilst I cry out at the injustice. At the disappointment ,and the needless mess.

I find necessity to get back up. Can’t hover here in despair..

I’m not fighting flames that threaten to consume but the dark that seeks to infiltrate this space that’s carved for glorys presence..

And in the fight to stand back up.. I find my voice….the breaking holds blessings in disguise and isn’t this the way of freedoms walk ?

I find courage seeping into the empty spaces..spured on by those who hold integrities hand. Despondent prayers are flung heavenwards and the troposphere cracks her reluctant floodgates…

Rain downpours as a Christmas wish come true drenching our arid earth and barren hearts a fresh with glorious liquid blessing.

Fires are extingished by heavens own hand and we are ever awed.

The reprieve this brings is divine intervention to an overdone soul.

The danger isn’t gone completely,theres still blazes to be fought. But each new step forward, Each time my gaze shifts higher, we gain ground.

Freedom comes at the cost of heartbreak a result of trust mislayed .Its a bitter lesson learnt.

Rain holds the promise of restoration..its grace tangible.

The dark retreats and glory edges back .A voice rises up louder then before. Wings stretch out ,arms link and we advance untouched.

Smoke and mirrors still try their hand at shaking this new courage that we’ve found.Threats seek to shut down this boldness.But it seems freedom has unshackled controls rigid grip and we will have none of that.

Faith stirs deep again feeding on glorys fire and I learn that burning bridges can it seems illiminate better the way then floodlights ever could.

Rain will come eventually. Droughts will break . Rivers will flow and life will begin again… The glory space will hold strong and despair will be a distant memory.

Contrast

Life’s full of contrast.This last season was pain unparalleled and provision unequalled all at once .Identity shifted, thwarted,stolen perhaps…yet blessed, loved and seen better then before.By ones I never expected to be there .

Now days I’m introduced as the “single mum”.. Ahh.. never wanted that title. It’s not that I can’t do it.I know I have capacity. I just never wanted too. It’s not meant to be this way.

I miss the idea of another. The reality however is easier to release.

That in itself is sad truth.

If love rang true it might be harder to let go… But love fell short more then once. Love wasn’t just blind but distracted,absent and unaware.Love hid from life and wished for a different path.The family created wasn’t enough to fill the void.Love grew cold like ice and cruel followed .Wrapped all up in self alone it stopped seeing the hearts it held allowing them to slip through fingers, grip slipped, fallen, shattered, lost.

Love looked at this heart to give it joy.. But truth is its impossibly unwise to source happiness in something external.Destined to disappoint,this heart not created to fill such space.

Truest joy is birthed from within.. Forged in fires of contrast it shines brightest. This heart has learnt that secret well. So in the absence of love…joy remains and contrary wise increases more and more freely now that it is uncrushed by the heartache of life with a broken other.

Loving deep whilst living unseen unknown and unfelt is an lonely existence indeed. Here I find despite the ache there is freedom in this space of disguard…Perhaps I should feel bitter disdain, sorrow, anger, jealousy maybe at being so easily replaced…to be replaced before even being disguarded is a vicious blow to ones pride most definitely. Still no one ever died from wounded pride…It has perhaps potential to be a fatal hit to a heart that loves completely. Or so I would have thought. But as it turns out this heart of mine is tougher then it seems. Able to bear a blow like this and rise again. Not taken out by worst fears realised.

Most definitely there’s been damage. Abundant tears cried to wash the burning ache and soothe the scar.But scar tissue is stronger then the flesh surrounding.This isn’t this hearts first round in the ring . It’s been through more then one rough beating and stood up against the odds before.

Ive learnt that courage not to fear the dark but resolve to face it armed with light makes surviving victorious these rounds an easier task.

We are promised a life complete with troubles. Hard is inevitable.Tragedy will strike ,hearts will break and none of it seems fair.This is the rich tapestry of our human existence. There’s no escaping it.

The secret Ive learned is to steady myself enough to survive the impending storm.Placing my back against something steadfast and praying for gritt enough to hold on tight.Weather the blows and hold strong to the knowing that hearts achieve restoration with time if they are empowered to forgive and even messy endings birth new beginnings full of possibility.

Space ,grace and time hold healing powers of their own and even a desolate season will run its course eventually. Nothing earthly is forever, tomorrow always comes until it doesn’t and hope when realigned with faith and heavens plan is never really lost.

So while I stand on shifting sands. . unstable as I am. . . between heartache and closure there is joy here amongst the pain. As eras end and dreams are buried..new ideas of adventure sow seeds deep and take root in this cracked earthen heart.Watered with tears of grief, prayers for grace and vows to live more fully from here on out.

The contrast shows the value of time. The importance of savouring it all.I notice and soak in the moments now that I have long overlooked and find in them reprieve enough to keep on walking.Allowing dreams and glorious ideas to take hold, sprout root or wing and follow where they lead.

Thankful for the outpouring of love from hearts of friends and family that once I held at distance. Grateful for their arms of grace that catch me when I trip,fill my glass and heart a fresh and breath connection back into this isolated space .

Hope for light filled memories, opportunities to really live.Embracing the ache is I’ve learnt the only way to recover freedom lost. The contrast is life-giving. A lesson to priceless to explain that must be felt to be truly understood.

So in this space of reckoning… In the messy middle hours… I am thankful for this walk. This undoing. This ache has taught my eyes to see new things. To walk in truth more boldly then I did before.

When you’ve walked worst fears and to your surprise survived there is little to hold you back at boundary lines of life.

Courage spreads her wings and calls to the deep in me..take flight there’s a world to see. Imagination and daydreams beckon stirring excitement at the possibilities of a life fully lived . Adventures promise illuminates, its contagious giggle is heard again in the garden in little voices playing louder….Joy circles back again flooding in and life is in stark contrast. Messy, broken beautiful all at once.

Prism

It seems with all that has been lost of late some years have fallen away too. Heavy taxing years that brought weight to these shoulders and creases to this brow vanish into thin air.

Age it seems is running in reverse as the clock ticks backwards and lost hopes are revived from the ashes of a hefty existence.

The grey that wove itself like a blanket all across our world has dissolved into a rush of technicolour. The limits I had, in absent-minded slumber, accepted for my life are peeled back one by one being found counterfeit with every layer.

Tears still come, but less frequent now. Traumas raw edges smooth with time and strength takes griefs seat at the table when given space enough.

Discipline to harness the overwhelms of a runaway mind is being developed. Now those tormenting thoughts are captured before they get loose enough to cause much damage.

This heart still holds the shadow of memory …it always loved, but hearts are easily deceived …infatuation it seems resembles love to a faithless unlearned heart ….as much as lies resemble truth to one that seeks to believe it so.

Naivety is no longer an option but in the raw light of realities presence, the world comes to life again. Rainbow possibilities dance like light through prisms across this new years dawning.

Dreams once cherished but long since passed over spring back into the realms of possibility. A second chance to live again without the sacrifice of freedom, of identity … Visions of tomorrow dance before my eyes weaving patterns that shift and change in a kaleidoscope of mesmerising colour. My breath catches in my chest as prayers are lifted higher.

Id never pick this for our story. I hate the disfunction of the journey.The ache in their eyes often more then I can stand …..but the independence is heaven-sent. Provision in its truest form.Sweet silver linings to a bitter onslaught.

While we are it seems destined for struggle…I have learnt that pain has a purpose .. And when I trust long nothing is wasted. Sometimes heartbreak is the making of us .. wherein shackles are removed and voices refined.

This fire that was sent to destroy this heart only served to temper it. Strength is found surprisingly within the expression of vulnerability. Integrity birthed from raw honesty.Freedom stirs from the seeds of surrender.

To embrace the process instead of fear it… This is the secret I have struggled to learn.

While this sole rages still at the injustice of it all..the foolish wastefulness that discards a life, a family that was long fought hard for…The spirit stirs within breathing oxygen back into tomorrow. Promising hope and second chances.

To really live, love and be loved in return. To seek adventure freely. To connect completely without shame and secrets holding this heart back at the boundary lines. Freedom to lift a voice, a heart heavenward not caring for anyone’s approval nor bracing against their disdain.

Our world is alive with colour…it bathes the heavy-hearted ache and washes it in glorious light infusing hope as it swirls around the corners of our home.

Joy follows behind. .. Slowly she washes back into their laughter. They dream again. Play again. Exhale less laboured than before.

The weight is lifting and the world has opened up again as it was once before me long ago. Unchained, transformed and We are free.

Rewrite

Silence.. Its been ages since silence was welcome..

I used to crave the nightshift hours when my love worked late and the little ones were in bed… Or those early mornings before dawn peaked her head around the night skies blanket and all the world still slept.

But in this season of shifting and shaking I have hated still, hated alone , hated late night pondering and early mornings.Much prefering to fill our days with busyness and head to bed with the kids…

Two little hearts are still sleeping along side me to ward off the darker dreams that haunt their overstretched minds triggered by heartbreak that’s beyond their capacity to really grasp.

Company breathes security and I’ve avoided solitude these last long months in case the very act of being still might trigger an avalanche of reality that Im doing my best to only glance at just as much as necessary to make it through.

This love story went wrong. Failed… Fell short..and my heart turned to dust with its demise.

And here we are on shifting sands trying to find our footing.

Somewhere though amongst the ache there is new strength being laid down adding its layer to the foundations laid in other struggles…other dark roads we’ve walked before.

Tonight the stillness beckons,friendly and inviting. Tonight solitude doesn’t intimidate but is a welcome friend..a sanctuary again. A place to gather thoughts and breathe and words flow freer then they have been for quite some time .Like fresh seas rushing into sunbaked sand ,its a welcoming reprieve.

This chapter seems to be of a carousel that we are riding.. Round and round and up and down.. It seems we never progress…. But rides don’t last forever. Seasons change. Pages turn and new beginnings are begun.

New dreams are being sowed within and colour sneaks its way back around the corners of this mind.

I begin to truly lift my gaze beyond what’s in front of me and dream of new adventures.New spaces,new people, new places.Dreaming of the rewrite of this lifes book.

The story of my life that I had felt so secure in, the narrative I held is gone now.. and coupled contrastingly beside the devasting heartache is a whimsical sense of mystery. Of a chance to re-write a better story.. one with adventures to out way traumas, one with so much laughter it rivals the tsunami of tears. One with a glorious ending.

I don’t know where this story will go.. Im not even sure what happens next when I turn the page.. But I do know know this in between space isn’t the end..just a plot twist before the next adventure.. and I’m confident this re-write will have a happier ending.

Nameless.

Endless cycles of broken and breaking only to scar and tear and scar again. Layer upon layer upon layer upon layer and there’s no escape from the torment. The demons won’t leave. No peace. No safe space… Guarded hidden behind a wall of lies.. Fakery the only language. Life devoid of hope.. Devoid of living water. No refreshment.

Empty business fills the days and the sweat of labor is squalled away in all the inbetween hours. Nights are filled with numbing and distraction that pulls down deeper darker…its blackness intoxicates and consumes.. Contrasted only by bright empty eyes and flashy false smiles that scream as they seduce with empty promises of fulfillment, and satisfaction .To have it all… To hold excess. ..but they steal more then they give robbing life with every round. Draining a soul dry…

Battered and bruised by the work of own hands. Unconscious self-sabotage…drags under again. Like a black hole it consumes all around .. Promising to devour..decite has hold in its ice-cold grasp … And it must be a welcoming space I think .. better than the endless fighting of conscious.To proud to reach out. To ashamed to seek help.No recognition of truth amoung lies .

And here we are.. Life stopped short. Can a trauma be a saving grace?

Can this hell bring healing?

Does destruction herald restoration? Can so many broken hearts be healed?

Can a shattered life, family find grace for the new day?

Cause in this space of blackness. Of the darks cold breath down ones neck it seems that all is lost forever.

Truth is messy. But this mess is said to promise freedom?

And I don’t see how but I’m beginning to understand.. Heaven has loved me and loaned me his eyes to view the unlovely with glorious insight.

The stripping of secrets..Now only serve to dig the other deeper. No way to stop truths explosion.

Undoing is grace?

My eyes now opened. . . No longer held spell bound in a fantasy of falseness.

Heart break is grace?

This madness… Insanity. Absence of logic and kindness is freedom somehow as it makes the letting go easier..the absence sweeter still .

But this I don’t understand. Is there freedom in madness? Is insanity a reprieve? does it hold promise too or is this blackness exposed in all its filth?

And I begin to grasp that the only way to unstick us from the others demise was to shatter it all..to tear it apart exposing the darkness..we couldn’t save ourselves so heaven intervened.

And somehow in the unsticking of this other, we become free. Eyes wide open. Life exposed, false reality shattered and there is freedom here.

Can trauma hold healing? Can this chaos be blessed and produce fruit? Is destruction life-giving?

And all I know is what I see and what I see with eyes of heaven is divine hands holding us. Leading us… Dirty broken hurting us. He walks us through and breathes grace..intertwining us with love working it all for good.

Here hope lies waiting… When the anger wanes. When I loosen my grip on the ache..hope draws breath.

This is a year of restoration,and while in no way does it look like I thought it would ,he is a God of his word.