Come, let’s sit and talk.


Come, let’s sit and talk. Truth is waiting for us under this star studded sky. Listen to my words, but hear my heart. There is no blame here. Grace is spinning and swirling around our words and our hands. Hear it? Listen.

Listen carefully.

We have walked far together. We have trekked over mountain ranges and we have waded through swamps. Hands clasped and hearts cleaved.

You have been constant.

And often silent.

I know you have been present. I have come to know you as silence as much as I have as Lord.

My battered heart knows silence. And it has come to love the quiet.


My murkiness has often tainted our conversations. I have poured out mirth on your claims of mercy and grace. I have snapped at your unwavering kindness. Perhaps some of your goodness has seeped through?



I have a suggestion for you.

I require so little.

Will you hear me out and consider my simple request?


Here is what I offer you.

I offer my silence in return for yours. I offer you my contentment and my quiet heart in return for yours. Can we just sit, in stillness? I have no need of loud proclamations or fire.

Let’s meet amongst big skies and loud storms, dusty mornings and sweet winds.  Amongst the wind and rain and Spring mornings, this is when your grace and goodness collides with my tainted heart. Just meet me here. That’s all I ask.

It is not so simple is it? Did you hear they slight desperation in my voice? Just meet me here.



And this is when I hear it. The rushing in of your heart. Your delight in chasing my tainted heart over the mountains, again and again. Your voice amidst the howling wind, ‘Mine. You are mine’. In silence and in heart stopping noise –‘You are mine’.


Home Alone


I am home alone today. The girls are with family, AJ is riding and I am here, by myself. And the house is not only quiet, it feels hollow and uneasy. This is a rare and treasured day. A day not to be wasted. But it sits uncomfortably on me. I miss the girls.

It is cold today and I am refusing to turn the heater on until I feel really cold. I will relish that moment when the house floods with warm air.  My feet are wrapped in my favourite blanket, a sweet gift from my sister in law. My nearly numb fingers tap on my laptop. I love the muted noise of my fingers pressing on the keys.

Spotify is making me happy. The room is thick with memories dancing on old songs. Songs I wouldn’t dare play if anyone was home. Yesterday AJ and I talked about buying our 7 year old an ITunes voucher for her birthday. How did that happen?

I’m not opening the laundry door today.

I am reading and thinking and trying to find the words to make sense of the last few weeks.


I will not imagine life any differently.

I will dream of a gentle ascent towards dreams and hopes. But I will not rush towards an alternative reality. I will not wish time away. I will not hope for a quickening.

I will be content, here, amidst the fullness of what life has offered me.  And I will not attempt to be, or write, in the shadow of others.  I will wait out the cold and rejoice in the warmth when it comes.