Noises off.
Lamentations 3: 28-30 (The message)
When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions; wait for hope to appear. Don't run from trouble. Take it full- face. the "worst" is never the worst.
This fortnight has been all about houses. Not the wonderful exciting house that my little baby Bumpling is building inside me but the family house that my mum has lived in for forty years. Last week we moved her out of there as she can no longer manage on her own. My questions, worries and fears deafen me. This is God's response straight from the above bible verse, and my response to Him.
"As my mind becomes clouded with stress, questions and worries I seek my dark place. I seek to enter the silence with my wonderful counsellor.
Going upstairs I run a bath and light a candle, putting in bubble bath and turning off the light I want to enter the dark- but I must see the hope- I am tempted to cry out to God, I have a million questions and thoughts, but I have been told to be silent and so I must obey. The cistern and the fan fill the bathroom with intense noise reminding me of my confused head space and as I question and allow the stress to consume me so does the noise.
BUT.
I know that the noise will stop.
I am aware that the noise will go away bit by bit because it always does.
And I realise that I am starting to hear other sounds above THE DIN,
the tap is gently dripping
a sign that the noise is dimming....
The fan goes off completely and now I am aware of the gentle hum of traffic on the road outisde the window.
A text sounds its arrival.
A firework interrupts.
And I know that the sound is still dimming.
And I become aware that suddenly
the noise
is going
down
and I know that silence will be mine soon and I trust that the peace will come soon and then the persistent and overwhelming song of the cistern
stops.
And all I hear are the bubbles in my bath.
Gently popping around me, exploding with joy.
The sound is peaceful, gentle, fragile, comforting.
The sound is hope.
And then I know that I can ask questions but God simply talks to me about the bubbles saying they are all my answers to prayer- some clumped together to form islands of foam, some big, some tiny and seemingly unimportant- and that I must remember this when I see bubbles.
He then reminds me that bubbles are a mix of water and chemicals. A Spirit and a substance.
Hope.
Answered prayers.
When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions; wait for hope to appear. Don't run from trouble. Take it full- face. the "worst" is never the worst.
This fortnight has been all about houses. Not the wonderful exciting house that my little baby Bumpling is building inside me but the family house that my mum has lived in for forty years. Last week we moved her out of there as she can no longer manage on her own. My questions, worries and fears deafen me. This is God's response straight from the above bible verse, and my response to Him.
"As my mind becomes clouded with stress, questions and worries I seek my dark place. I seek to enter the silence with my wonderful counsellor.
Going upstairs I run a bath and light a candle, putting in bubble bath and turning off the light I want to enter the dark- but I must see the hope- I am tempted to cry out to God, I have a million questions and thoughts, but I have been told to be silent and so I must obey. The cistern and the fan fill the bathroom with intense noise reminding me of my confused head space and as I question and allow the stress to consume me so does the noise.
BUT.
I know that the noise will stop.
I am aware that the noise will go away bit by bit because it always does.
And I realise that I am starting to hear other sounds above THE DIN,
the tap is gently dripping
a sign that the noise is dimming....
The fan goes off completely and now I am aware of the gentle hum of traffic on the road outisde the window.
A text sounds its arrival.
A firework interrupts.
And I know that the sound is still dimming.
And I become aware that suddenly
the noise
is going
down
and I know that silence will be mine soon and I trust that the peace will come soon and then the persistent and overwhelming song of the cistern
stops.
And all I hear are the bubbles in my bath.
Gently popping around me, exploding with joy.
The sound is peaceful, gentle, fragile, comforting.
The sound is hope.
And then I know that I can ask questions but God simply talks to me about the bubbles saying they are all my answers to prayer- some clumped together to form islands of foam, some big, some tiny and seemingly unimportant- and that I must remember this when I see bubbles.
He then reminds me that bubbles are a mix of water and chemicals. A Spirit and a substance.
Hope.
Answered prayers.
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