Category Archives: beauty

The Sea, The Sea

I have never lived away from the sea.  I grew up just north of Belfast which meant that – whilst Belfast Lough isn’t exactly open ocean – I usually saw the sea at least once a week even if I wasn’t a real coastliner.  I went to University and lived in a seaside town, my year out was in Marseille on the south coast of France where the sea comes right up to the city’s main thoroughfare and now I live back up the north coast just a short drive from the sea.

But I’m soon to move away…  I’m exchanging the sea for a river and lots of castles.  I know it’ll be lovely – its a great city and there are some great people there and I’m looking forward to it for sure, but I wonder if I’ll get claustrophobic?  Out walking today (easy done when you work 3 hours a day 🙂 ) I was glorying in the joys of seaside living… wouldn’t you???

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Filed under beauty, change, France/French

Reckless Abandon

I am terrified of being myself.

I feel strength and passion within me that don’t fit with the ‘nice girl’ image that seems most acceptable to the world.

I fear stepping out as me for two main reasons.

One : My strength and passion demand a confidence and courage that would undoubtedly be intimidating to most men, thus lowering my chances even further of being fallen in love with and married.  The ridiculous thing about this is that I do not want a husband who would want me to be less than myself or what I am called to be.  I long to want that for a husband and for a husband who longs for that for me.  So to think of being a shadow of myself just so that I could marry someone is preposterous.

Two : I still fear that my strength and passion are nothing special.  That really all I have is this ball of longing for great things I cannot name and therefore cannot offer; that I cannot work out what it is I am meant to be doing and that even if I do, it won’t be anything worth making a fuss over.  These feelings are also ludicrous because why do I feel like it needs to be something that others would be able to see and to measure?

I want to be me with reckless abandon.  Like the way God created his world : tucked away animals and plants in parts of the world no human eye would ever see, flung myriads of stars into space for sheer joy rather than for counting, made music and painting and poetry…

I want to give and receive love in that way – not in the tight-fisted manner of fear and self-protection, but with freedom and joy and reckless abandon

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Filed under beauty, fear, freedom, God, heart, hope, love, risk

God’s Extravagant Beauty

I’ve been reading Surprised By Hope by Tom Wright with a friend recently.  If I ever get round to it, I’ll share some reflections from it.  But, that book and some other chats and ruminations have encouraged me muchly to rediscover and re-revel in some of the ways in which God has made this whole creation something incredibly extravagantly beautiful.

The following video is of a heart-breakingly beautiful piece of music on an instrument I’ve always wanted to play… And all the better as it is performed by my heart-breakingly beautiful friend

Hypnosis (you’ll have to download it in order to watch – worth every single 78MB)

Enjoy, friends…

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Filed under beauty, friends, music

Empathising with Eve over the Apple

Just so you know… This time next week, I will hopefully be the owner of a sparkly new Macbook.

Selling my soul for an Apple.

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Filed under beauty, happiness is, modern life, morals, perfect love, random, story

Risk

And then the day came, 1040326_76162204
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom

~ Anais Nin

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Filed under beauty, fear, poetry, risk

Happiness is…

… Friday socks that come out of the wash in time for Friday.

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Happiness is…

… an afternoon in Crusoe’s with a cinnamon scone, a large cappuccino and my journal.

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Filed under beauty, happiness is, perfect love, random, writing

Why I love the Blogosphere (and think Jesus does, too)

Blogging, when it is done well, delights me in many different ways.  Just today my blog surfer spewed up fellow-bloggers’ musings on church and government, the memories of a bike and a story about a box of incontinence pads.

Blogging, when it is done well, can be as engaging as a movie thriller, as enthralling as a book you just can’t put down and because it is real life from real people is often incomprehensibly fulfiiling, raw and beautiful…

Blogging, when it is done well, can breathe love, joy, freedom, peace, friendship, vision, hope… Life.

Blogging gives me insight into the beautful minds of others that I wouldn’t ordinarily get.

I might be a geek, but I love it.

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Filed under beauty, blogging, creativity, happiness is, love, random

Thirst

When I listen to you live my throat feels dry.

My lips crack and dry up,

Thirsty for water that breathes deeply

Into my longing.

Lifting the cup to my mouth I hesitate,

Pursed lips tentatively gasping,

Drawing you in like hot tea that might blister my tongue

Rendering all else tasteless.

But I’d rather drink you down

(with

–     no fear of getting burnt     –

reckless

gulping

drafts)

Drink you down to the depths

Of sweet Spirit, and of Truth

And of grace.

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Filed under beauty, fear, grace, poetry, random, truth

The Return

The city awaits

Like a held breath and butterflies.

A longing of which

The anticipation is half the pleasure.

Familiar territory made strange by absence,

Laden with memory,

Exotic with change.

I will come again to your streets

Much-paced,

Long-lingered,

Where I will be free once more

To lay bare the secrets you once exhaled,

Whispered to a younger soul

Much lighter than mine.

My feet are no strangers to your streets,

Nor my eyes to your sight.

But who it was that took them there is a mystery

That I alone cannot fathom.

Change, when it is not height,

Can only be measured

By omniscience and eternity.

And so it is that I come;

An estranged wife,

A tourist in my own hometown,

A vagabond who dropped something

And came back to search.

There are glimpses of me

But only as I see her:

T-shirt in winter

And him:

Hairwaxed swagger

And them:

Wizened hands sticky,

Still fishing, still selling,

Unchanging.

Change, when it is not height,

Can only be measured

In light of the

Unchanging – not because it is simple,

But already taller than height,

Wider than width,

Deeper than depth –

Perfection.

And so I leave those streets behind.

There where the unknown meets the unseen,

The is meets what has been,

And what will be, will be…

I Am.

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Filed under beauty, change, France/French, home, poetry, random, story, travel