Saturday, August 27, 2011

Enter The Flow

O My child, My child, I love you.  I need you.  I need you because I love you.  I call you through the trees.  In the soughing of the pines, it is My voice speaking.  I call you in the wind. In the breaking of the waves, it is My voice you hear.  In the tumbling waters of the brook, it is I, calling, ever calling.
Go from your house with an open ear.  Do not walk in a garden with an inattentive soul.  Do not pluck a flower without feeling your heart throb.

Learning, knowing, working, these all have their place.  But these are not the core of life, for living at its centre is loving; anything else is not life.  Work becomes the fabric from which we weave life only when love holds the threads.  Knowledge enriches life to the degree that love controls the thinking.  Pleasure becomes the path to the far country if true love has been left behind in pursuit of false values.
Learn to love Me and to love Me well.  Let the voice within you answer the voice without.  Be at one with the trees, with the waves, with the flowing brook.  

Grow upward, as trees, and seek My face.  Dwell deep, as the lake, and know My fullness and quiet.  And move ever, always, determinedly onward as the brook does; and keep the outflow of your life ever in motion.

For in My speaking, you will gain insight.  In My stillness, you will gain poise; and joining with Me in the flow, you will experience the progressive life.  Yes, only as life is progressive is it life at all.  Movement indicates life.  Movement safeguards life.  Movement promulgates life.  Movement gives purpose to life - yes, beauty.
It is the flowing lines of the sculptor's work that spell success.  It is the flowing movement of the musical score that transforms mere notes to true song.  It is the ministries of mother to child, either physical or spiritual, that contribute to the formation of the new personality and character.  
It is love being and love doing.  Yes, it is love loving.  Otherwise love is concept, not reality.  It is the believer worshiping - otherwise it is empty religion, with all spiritual creativity lost, and if not found in time, destroyed.

So the trees would say to you, Speak.  Speak to Me, speak of Me - for I am always speaking.  And the lake would say to you, Be still.  Be still before Me in communion, and be still at times even in the company of others, so you may enjoy the lesson of the lake in mutual fellowship.

And Move.  Find the channel of creativity within your soul.  I have made no one without it.  Some have choked it with indifference; others have despised it in rebellion; others have ignored it in foolishness; others have twisted it in bitterness.  But I stand ready to come to the assistance of any man or woman who sincerely endeavors to find this channel, to remove debris, to repair damage or straighten the course, and most of all to enter the flow.
Frances J. Roberts
Come Away My Beloved

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Road Maps

I wanted to share one of the comments that I received from Kel on my previous post "Scavenger Hunting."  I felt as if God spoke directly to me when I read what she wrote:

     "Road maps are great aren't they, showing the end destination, so we know exactly where we'll end up as we take each turn on the road.  When I saw these photos, this popped into my head, "follow the sound of the waves..."
     Isn't it true that when one sense is taken away from us, we gain extra strength in our others?   You may not be able to see the end of the beach, but if you follow the sound of the waves swooshing on the shoreline you will eventually reach the end of the stony section of your path."

I happened to glance through an old Artful Blogging magazine yesterday and I read these words by Kelly Letky (interesting that we all have the same name)

     "It's hard to know if you are on the right path, moving in the right direction, doing the right thing.  I move in circles a lot, pondering this question, wondering.  Of course, there is no answer, you can't know the answer until you get where you are going, and then it is too late to ask the question.
     Along the way we make a million choices, each one a pebble in our path, some round and pretty, some jagged, sharp, occasionally painful.  But each one is ours, we claim them with every step we take, whether on tiptoes with trepidation, or running full steam ahead, hair streaming out behind us.  Choices, always, choices.  This or that, there or there, today or tomorrow.
     Nobody has a map of life.  No one knows exactly where they will end up.  But along the way, don't forget to watch where you are doing.  You might just see the most beautiful thing."

I think I'm getting a message here.  And I think I'd better listen...


Saturday, August 20, 2011

Scavenger Hunting

I've been on a scavenger hunt since my life changed in an instant and I found myself looking for work.  My youngest sister and I were talking about the latest disappointment in the job search, and she wrote this:

"I can't help but wonder if God was just saying: "No way, this isn't the route I want for you right now."  It would be so nice if He could just say, 'No, I plan on this for you and you're going to have to get through these things, but in the end you will end up in this place doing this thing...'  Why can't it be more of a road map?..." 

My response and the insight of the week for me:
"He is definitely not into road maps, scavenger hunts maybe, with some very sketchy clues, but definitely not road maps." 

I took these photos at Lawrencetown Beach.  It was a sweltering hot day, but when I arrived at the beach the fog had rolled in.  Somehow though, the first picture suits where I'm at right now and I find it comforting.