When Things Come Together OR Waiting On The Lord

Things came together today.
I made a phone call I had known I would have to make, but making it made me nervous. Then the time was suddenly ripe, I made the call and everything is good.
For those of who believe this sort of thing I spent the morning in prayer, but it was not an isolated thing. I have been weeks, months (though I didn't know it, it seems, years) building up to this.

It all sounds a little melodramatic, maybe, but sometimes things are. Wouldn't life be dull otherwise?

I have always liked the concept of "Waiting on the Lord". This is the idea that we wait to see God working his purposes out in our lives in his perfect timing. I sometimes read others refer to a similar notion in terms of the universe answering.

At the beginning of the year, I chose a word for myself: Intentionality. It seems strange, perhaps, that having chosen to live more "intentionally" this year, I should at the half way point, declare a breakthrough after "waiting on" something outside of myself.
But need these two things be contrary to one another, or might they not sit side by side?

I have been intentional this year, choosing deliberately as the choices arise, taking action to keep things moving forward, taking responsibility for the decisions I make.
But at the same time I have been waiting. I have let things take the time they have needed to blossom into what they could - or indeed must - be. And I have shown myself the same generosity. I have moved forward, but not pushed beyond what has felt right. I have known I have been taking a journey, but have not felt hurried (nearly desperate sometimes, but still not hurried) to reach my destination.
And this has been liberating. And beautiful (even in the angst).
And today I got somewhere. At the right time.

Have you experienced this in your life? This dance of moving and waiting rewarded with the joy of the right time?
If you have I'd love to hear. If not, maybe practice it for the next step in your own journey.

Louise

Transformation

I think this has been the longest period I have had away from my blog since I began it and I apologise for my absence. That said I don't want to get into the habit of beginning blog posts with apologies and excuses.
I have been in overwhelm of late, a continuation of my personal drama that prompted the poem of my last post. Blogging has been a refuge for me over recent months, but sometimes we need to step outside our sanctuary and deal with our challenges head on. That's what I've been doing.
(You know, just writing that last paragraph, it suddenly feels so good to be back!)

Over at 21 Secrets Tamara LaPorte's lesson on Collage, Paint and Soul (now also available as an individual course by Tam if you're not part of 21 Secrets) demonstrates how to paint over a collaged image to transform it into something original and new.
That is what I hope I am doing in my life: transforming into something wonderful.
This is what it looked like on paper:

Before:

After:

The words on the side read: You are a Jewel of Creation
The words on her neck read: Don't forget to sparkle.
In the original painting the jewels of her necklace do sparkle.
It is to remind me of how I am made and therefore what I can be.
I hope you know these things about yourself too.

Louise

Hard Times

We all hit times when it's difficult to keep going.

When we do we have a Choice:

We can let it get to us, we can falter, lose our step, lose our Self.

OR

We can stand against the threat. We can believe we have what it takes to get through.

We can believe in our Self.

It can be that we need encouragement to choose the second option.

I wrote the poem below last night for a little self-motivation, a reminder to Self of who I am and what I can do.

May it remind you too, whenever you need it to.

With my love attached.

I Will Stand

I will stand against the rain,

Beneath the clouds,

In the face of thunder.

I will not bow

To the lightning strike

Though it set fire to my soul.

I will not shelter from the storm

Though it rage through the branches of the elm

And through my heart.

I will lift my head

And drink the rain,

Let the cool flow of it

Coat my throat,

Let the sound of thunder

Echo through the stone,

Let the wind shout its secrets

To my bones.

I will lift my head.

I will stand against the rain.

Louise

Different Versions of Me

As you may have noticed I have recently updated my profile photo - I am now no longer a doll but a real person! My 11 year old daughter took the photo of me while I was painting. (I'm keeping my doll photo up too, though, because she is still my presence on several other sites and I like her).
On a similar theme, Violette Clark has been leading us through some shadow work in the 21 Secrets art journaling workshop, allowing us to explore and express both our public face and our shadow side.
My public face is naturally pleasant and light. The words I associated with my public persona included calm, good, caring and teacher. She is on a pedestal (Violette's suggestion, but I felt very fitting - I have spent a lot of time up there).

Next comes the darker version, the side not seen. I found it liberating to reveal her over a background of writing about who she really is. And you know, she's not so bad really!

As well as benefitting from the emotional exercise and producing two different faces (the shadow was done straight onto the page with no initial sketch which was scary to do, but successful!), I also enjoyed pushing myself a little with the mixed media backgrounds of colours, textures and texts.

Louise

Green Inventions Central: Get Attention for Your Blog

Green Inventions Central: Get Attention for Your Blog

I didn't link my post properly so if you've come to visit via this link please check out my previous post for the mother's day poem! Sorry!

A Mother's Day Poem

I feel like I have been away from here for too long, but real life has taken over for the last couple of weeks and I have had to take a break from blog land. I think going computer-free for a bit is a good thing for us all. I didn't plan my break, though I saw it coming and chose to enjoy it. But it's hard coming back to know where to pick things up from.
So I was pleased to find this post about linking up with a poem about mothers (L.L. Barkat offered me inspiration a few weeks back concerning fairytales so I'm happy to join the fun again).
This is supposed to be in honour of approaching mother's day (U.S.? we had ours here in the UK back in March) and incidently it is my own mother's birthday this week, but...
That life that has kept me away from here is still going strong so rather than write fresh I've pulled an old poem from my files which doesn't exactly have the celebratory tone it should. But relationships are tricky things, and often not what they should be...

Mother

Mother is due at three with her hawk-eye
Out for every stained surface, dust-darkened nook
And unshelved book.
So I scrub and scour, feeling like a woman
At the river flaying clothes against the rocks -
Disinfectant my new incense.

Duty done, my mind plays back a childhood day,
When hid in the branches of the damson
I wrote my secret journal while Mother called,
All my woes and then my dreams -
The aubergine ribbon bookmark a bloodstain
Running like a river down my thigh.

Louise

Seasons of Challenge and Healing

Life is so full of seasons, of unexpected twists and turns. Sometimes it's a rollercoaster ride of fun, sometimes the rapid-fire ups and downs can make you nauseous.
Sometimes the changes are slower, the shifts less perceptible.
Life brings its seasons of challenge and then of healing.
Othertimes, life plateaus - this is a good season too, a season of rest, of comfort or fulfilment.
I'm in challenge at the moment. Its not easy, but it's a period of growth.
Where are you?
What is the good in this part of the journey for you?

This poem is an account of two life shifts: from the challenge of loss, to the healing of new companionship.

Transitions

Earth-spattered roses marked you transition
From one life to another, but unlike your love,
The move took you to no higher world,
No paradise where you might breathe lightly again,
But left you treading the same patterns through the day
As always; at night lying alone beneath an empty sky.

Roses on a coffin lid; the first handful
Of cold dirt fell like rain, but lifted
No regenerate beauty from her cold bones.
You walked away (I imagine all of this)
With the same dignity you have carried all the years since:
Uncowed by fate or chance, bereft not beaten.

The heavy harness of bereavement has not bent your back
(Though the dullness in your eye was absent I am sure
In youth). If I am able to lighten your future
I will never seek to quench your past.
Never will you walk blindly through sun or shadow,
But may I be the blessing you count nightly beside your loss.

Louise