Dust 3

dust, from

dust, we mortals

created

and God breathed

are dust,

only dust, and yet

the stuff

of mountains,

moons, stars,

creations d.n.a.

runs within

our veins,

we are

dust,

our frail,

fragile,

fleeting bodies sourced

from eternity,

to eternity

born of divine imagination

made in

time,

called beyond time,

dust,

wonderful,

glorious,

deeply loved,

dust…

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show me…

Show me myself,

show me my deepest desire,

strip away my defences,

my pretences,

my excuses

and show me myself,

lead me within,

through my own eternal desert

to connect with the

source of life,

no longer distracted by other

streams,

by the lies of comfort,

of the demands that clamour,

 show me myself,

show me that I am loved,

sought after,

treasured,

known….

and grant me the power to look

love in the face,

and see at last,

mirrored in my face,

a glimpse of your glory!

girl-looking-in-mirror

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no masks, no hiding places…

No masks,

no hiding places here,

as the desert wind rips

across my soul

exposing my

struggle and despair,

here I have reached the end

of myself,

my resources spent,

my hope dimmed,

my heart and head and hands

empty of all but one question…

can I be loved?

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Can I be loved?

Loved in my brokeness

and pain,

no masks,

no hiding places?

+

I will hold out the question

and wait,

wait for the wind to ease,

the dust to settle,

though I sense the answer

even in my turmoil,

the still small voice that

echoes yet again,

you are love,

and you are loved,

no masks,

no hiding places

will protect you

from this fierce, wild truth !

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no masks,

no hiding places…

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Yearning… ( a prayer)

I yearn for you,

will you meet me

in my yearning?

Will you hold me,

comfort me,

in the depths of your love,

where my desire for

lesser comforts dies away…

..

How I long for them to die,

yet so often they hold me,

“Just a morsel, just one sip, one more…”

The voices are soft and enticing…

“it can’t hurt, it won’t matter..

you can start again tomorrow…”

” tomorrow, tomorrow…”

But tomorrow never comes. ..

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So pushing last the clamour,

I cling to my deepest desire. …

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O Spirit,

O Christ,

O Mother and Father of all…

meet me in my desire I pray…

meet me in my yearning,

set me free….

even from myself….

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Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11: 29-30)

 

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dust (2)… ( pondering 2 Corinthians 4: 3-18)

I am a jar of clay,

fragile, flawed,

dust, currently

moulded,

useful in some ways,

but dust,

the wonder is that

you place

your glory in me,

and bid me bear it

in all of my frailty, but

I am dust,

I cannot take this weight,

hold this light,

receive this wonder….

yet the wonder is that

I am held,

the weight is not mine to bear,

I simply receive it,

frail dust,

glory filled dust,

the treasure fills

and overspills

this jar of clay,

and I am overwhelmed

by glory…

dust and glory

meld to one.

jars-of-clay_bevgore.com_

 

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dust

Remember you are dust,

frail, fragile, temporary,

dust, for now

made flesh and bone,

holding mind and heart,

senses of touch,

dust to dust…

remember,

for you are re-membered,

fearfully and wonderfully

woven,

a one off,

dust transformed,

yet dust,

dust of stars and desert skies,

of sandwashed ocean shores,

of mud and mire,

of dark and light,

diamond dust,

coal dust…

remember you are dust,

for there lies the miracle…

ash cross

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at this table…

at this table

the ordinary

becomes extraordinary,

simple bread

and wine

a place where heaven

touching earth

is placed into our hands

and we are invited

to receive

God into our lives

again,

reminded of a sacrificial love,

and re-membered

by holy grace,

to this table

we come

from the ordinariness

of our days,

like bread and wine

unveiled by glory,

we too are included

 

transformed, revealed,

in full

unveiled potential…

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