Conversations with God

Finding God, or to express it better, cultivating a relationship with God has been a bit like trying to find Nemo in a vast wilderness. Finding church fellowship and finding myself was the easy part. Finding the place where and how God wants me has been fraught with difficulty, it isn’t easy swimming against the tide. 

Having been afflicted by multiple traumas has tested my faith to its limits. But my journey towards restoration in this season has needed more than what I have been able to do humanly. Knowing that I can not do this work independently of God has been revelatory and liberating. Knowing that I can partner with this amazing God has helped me to deepen my faith in a way I once thought inconceivable – how could I know what I did not know? 

Increasingly, I liken it to falling in love, or the birth of a new baby.  It is a love that is unconditional, unimaginable and it is available to one and all. It is like a whole new dimension. It has to be experienced since no amount of intellectual power can bring this into being. For me, a good news story hinges not so much on one event but the unraveling of this new dimension, a new way of seeing, a new way of being. “Wearing God’s glasses”. 

I have no right to happiness but I do have the right to be the full expression of my self, the multi layered, gifted and messy version of me that I am co authoring and co creating with God. It is not so much about finding but surrendering and yielding to God’s will. A prayerful and meditative disposition is helping me to foster grace and humility. This requires a vow of commitment. It is an act of human and spiritual discipline. Not just on a Sunday, not just in response to enfolding events but in every breath, every thought, every dream, every decision and every action. By yielding to God in prayer and in service, God finds you, God finds me, God finds us. Abba Daddy finds us in those moments and in those lives when we each peer into heaven. Little Nemo was never truly lost but in his wandering and in his wondering, he grew into himself. A loving, spirit filled child of God.

These sentiments are, at this point of my journey, best captured in this beautiful piece of music: https://youtu.be/rwLHr9vNwcQ God sometimes speaks to me through the medium of music and other languages. The lyrics in this exquisite video are helpfully shown in Spanish and English. I hope this good news story will bring you comfort, strength and inspiration to those that pray for and seek it. 

I Am With You.

Your brother,

James

Seasons

Spring is the time to jump up and dance,
For nesting birds and courting romance.
We dispose of the old and bring in the new,
So April showers can sweep on through.
May’s blossom shines like city lights,
To precede a season of milder nights.

Summer sets sway and nature reaches peak,
Carnivals or quiet fields for lovers to seek.
Across the land, the sun sets late,
Parks fill up with joy that people create.
In search of the sun, we explore other lands,
To meet the ocean and its soft golden sands.

Oh for Autumn and its rustic charm,
Harvests are yielded in farm after farm.
Crisp leaves gently fall into the street,
Providing comfort under aching feet.
Warm days yet colder nights embrace the nation,
Signalling the bird world’s annual migration.

To winter-time and Christmas tide,
Animals hibernate and people hide.
Cosy evenings spent at fireplaces,
Inviting rapport by warming our faces.
A seasons of seasons from time to time,
Where frozen and mild days fall out of line.

 31st May 1997

Secret Garden

Flowers bloom in spectacular colour,
They fill a garden with natural wonder.
A sight, a smell so incredibly wondrous,
Next to grass, green and lustrous.

Set amidst a Tudor-style maze,
Ideal for creatures in which to laze.
A secret door beckons,
For those that look towards the heavens.

A might oak door stands aloof,
Luring the inquisitive garden sleuth.
Almost obscured by evergreen,
Hiding treasures that must be seen.

No secret keys or clues to find,
Not just a game of any kind.
No obvious stones in which to uncover,
Just three magic words for the garden lover.

So stand poised and softly utter,
Those magic words you shouldn’t just mutter.
For only those that have a clue,
Will move the oak, and walk on through.

Just think quietly and concentrate,
For the oak door is patient and can always wait.
Quiet meditation must be attained,
If paradise is to be found, then retained.

Once through, the mortal stands aghast,
Reviving dreams long since past.
Avenues of trees line up in majesty,
A heavenly sight for anyone to see.

Flowers dance along rolling green verges,
Resplendent in colour, aided by sunlit surges.
Garden furniture and ornaments abound,
For us to sit and gaze all around.

Birds of Paradise, their wings ablaze,
Like the phoenix it withstands heat and haze.
They usher you toward the garden’s centre,
A place of rest, a peaceful venture.

A crustal blue stream sparkles bright,
To guide you to a magnificent light.
An eternal fountain and its holy waters,
They heal Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters.

At the end of the garden, pick one door from seven,
For only one provides that stairway to heaven.

26th May 1997