Lanzarote refreshment

Balm for my soul,
nautical twilight
gently suffuses the horizon.
stars creep
from long-forgotten hiding places
doting on the arid land.

and I remember
a long ago journey
through a desert deserted place.
a young mother, a dreaming father, a trusting babe.

Along the skyline, one by one by one,
crawl camels and goats.
A dog barks lonely in the distance.

Hibiscus, bougainvillea, euphorbia, mimosa, cactus...
grow, without soil, out of the black picon,
those astonishing dark particles of rock
attracting moisture,
sharing generously
under cover of darkness,
nourishing life with water.

Centuries ago
an olive tree began to grow,
leaning away
from a harsh prevailing wind.

A froth of surf
lacily fringes an azurely turquoise sea
caressing a golden beach.

Volcanic mounds
scatter a landscape patterned
with terraced gardens and vineyards.

Coming with peace, twilight
beckons with mysterious fingers,
hands full of promise.

This seemingly barren landscape
loves me with possibilities.
My soul rests, rejoicing.

Stopping, stopped

Lovely ladies breakfast here yesterday. up to a dozen of us - different women every time, although there are a one or two constant regulars - who gather round my big table to chat.
It's a breather for those of us who work full-time Monday to Friday. And I know that EVERYONE is busy... but homemakers have other opportunities.
This is just for us.

I started hosting these monthly get-togethers about a year ago. I put together a rough schedule of ideas, so dragged it out a week or so ago.
Reluctantly, I have to admit. I have been SO busy.

'Normal' school is hectic enough. Then there are reports..(only nine thousand words this time) and a professional development course I am in the middle of. Not even to think about Christmas...(which is all I AM doing - thinking about it. Guiltily.)
Anyway, guess what the next topic was?

REST!!
Ha ha.

So I scurried around doing a weekly clean up in an hour. This poor house rarely gets more than a spit and a polish: a Swedish proverb says 'better a little dirt in the corners than a clean Hell' and I take that maxim to heart.
I scurried round setting the table, baking rolls, preparing a fruit platter...
I scurried.
Rest?
I don't think so.

And you know what? It WAS. I feel as refreshed as if I'd had a weekend away - and it's still Sunday morning!

Wow!

PS: What I shared is over at Words From God for Today. Interestingly, the day I was putting the finishing touches, praying that it was what God wanted from me, a friend sent me this by email:

The Lord is My Pace Setter: an adaptation of the 23rd Psalm

"The Lord is my pace setter...I shall not rush
He makes me stop for quiet intervals
He provides me with images of stillness which restore my serenity
He leads me in the way of efficiency through calmness of mind and his guidance is peace
Even though I have a great many things to accomplish each day, I will not fret,for his presence is here
His timelessness, his all importance will keep me in balance
He prepares refreshment and renewal in the midst of my activity by anointing my mind with his oils of tranquility
My cup of joyous energy overflows
Truly harmony and effectiveness shall be the fruits of my hours for I shall walk in the Pace of my Lord and dwell in his house for ever."

Renewing and reenergising

I took some rather strange 'time out' on Saturday morning. Strange in that 'time out' usually means, for me, a quiet time: reading, walking, writing, reflecting, doing something on my own. This was spent with a dozen other women.

We gathered in my sitting room for breakfast. I provided the coffee, the croissants, the fruit and the juice. They provided the bubbly enthusiasm, the generous love, the warm companionship. We chatted for a couple of hours, reflecting on our lives and what it means to be a woman of God in the workplace. We gained support and encouragement from each other. We had 'time out'.

Renewed and reenergised.

Herm

The weather was fantastic at the weekend. Sunday dawned pink, clearing the way for a brilliant blue sky and dazzling sunshine. Oh so cliched, oh so true.

We bunked off church in the morning, and took the boat over to Herm. 20 minutes over the water and you're in another world. No cars, no hurry, no bustle. Just a mile or so of gentle hills, rabbit-cropped turf and sandy beaches.

We walked up from the harbour, passing the two pubs, the hotel, handful of holiday cottages and the tiny church. Every Sunday the owner holds a short service in this ancient chapel, so lovingly cared for with polished pews and fresh flowers.
Over the other side of the hill, Belvoir Bay nestles at the bottom of a valley. Shells the size of a pinhead scattered the shore at our feet. We drank our coffee in a sheltered nook among the rocks, listening to the swell of the waves beating gently on the shore.

Paradise.

Walk to the beach

How privileged I am to live here. Almost very time I step outside, I thank God for the beauty of this little island.
This morning I ran the dog to the beach: two fields, a lane and a handful of houses away.
A huge flock of starlings flew off and over the coastal path as we approached, in a sudden swoop, synchronised as one.
A dozen oyster catchers flew further down the shore, squeaking in annoyance, as the dog rushed in abandon into the waves.
A few turnstones were doing what they do best: hobbling among the seaweed, poking for edible morsels, oblivious to their neighbours.
A kestrel dived, then hovered, eyes intent on a tiny creature hidden in the grass.
What a gift to start my day!

I lift my eyes to the hills

Psalm 121 - which has been set most beautifully to music by Brian Doerksen www.briandoerksen.com says:
I lift up my eyes to the hills -where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

We all love and appreciate the beauty of God's creation, which is a love song in our ears. A quiet walk in the country; sitting on a rock by a wildly raging sea; gazing at a panorama of mountains - all these bring rest to our souls, restoring peace. But help - that is something else.

The peace brought about by nature is only temporary, fleeting. Help comes from nature's Maker.

A friend once defined an extrovert as someone who gains energy from other people. I suspect Jesus was like that. Even his retreat to a quiet place to pray was to spend time with his Father, not just to be on his own.

I've never thought of myself as an extrovert. I'm naturally shy, quite quiet, not the life and soul of the party. But I gain energy from being with like-minded people. From talking about things of the heart, things that really matter. From sharing Jesus with them.