Tag Archives: encounter

Creating Encounter in Colour: Blue Pool

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Come lay yourself down on this lilo of leisure, close your screen-weary eyes and float to somewhere lostly deep. The pool is azure punctured with zaps of lightning sun, refracted zig zags of gold lapping at the lapis lazuli tiles. All is Mediterranean wonder and bright cobalt ceramic.

Feel the celestial coolness below you, imagine how the floor of heaven must feel to feet of bronze coming home after walking the earth on a summer’s day. Let your soul right itself, a Spirit levelled horizontally as you recalibrate your centre and plumb the depths in your mind’s eye. All other measuring can be released as the foolishness it is, attention given to cool turquoise surrounding you with softly undulating mammatus clouds of water, ripples kissing your sun-drenched skin and imparting life to arid places.

text © K Dibbens-Wyatt  Photo from Pixabay

18: Pressed into Service

18 StationV Jesster79 CC wiki

A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross.” Mark 16:21 NIV

Have you ever been shoved into the fray, given something to do you had no desire to do, finding yourself in the centre of a drama you thought was nothing to do with you? Pity Simon of Cyrene, likely a Jewish trader minding his own business, suddenly thrown into the greatest story ever told.

Was he near the front of the crowd to see what was happening, and next thing he was the thing that was happening? Had he heard about Jesus and the amazing things that were being claimed about this miracle maker? Was he passing on the trade route, used to being respected and then suddenly identified with this troublemaker simply because of his race? That is a story that has been played out time and time again in history, I suppose; the wrong colour skin, the wrong gender, the wrong creed, in the wrong place at the wrong time. And yet. I wonder if Simon might have looked back later and remembered his sudden encounter with Jesus joyfully.

Imagine if the saviour you first came into contact with was a beaten one. A bruised and bloody mess, covered in wounds and spittle. Would you still give him your life? Or do we all hanker for a clean cut, clean shaven, pristine saviour in a suit and tie, with perfect white teeth and a sensible hairstyle? Suppose the first thing he did in his brokenness was to have you carry a heavy load? So heavy that it made your shoulder burn and cut into your flesh? Would you still want to serve him? Would he still win your heart, God struggling and failing, falling and allowing weakness to shine?

Perhaps sometimes we are surprised by the ways Jesus enters our life, how he turns the strangest, even the vilest circumstances into holy encounter. For Simon, ever famed as the carrier of the cross, this seemingly chance pressganging led him into being the first (albeit unwilling) sharer of Christ’s sufferings, and no doubt he followed the rest of the story and watched, bent and sore from the load, and burning from the indignity, as a softly spoken Jewish brother was killed by a vicious regime, and at the same time, whether he knew it or not, saw God turn meekness to majesty, tragedy to triumph, death to life. Nothing would be the same ever again.

 

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo by Jesster79 on Wikimedia used under creative commons license.

162: Crossroads

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The light of love streams in from the left and the living water bubbles through on the right, and the twain meet over my bare earthed toes. And here I am Lord, listening for your voice, waiting for your tap on the shoulder, the peace in my heart, to tell me which is the best direction. And all I hear is a third way. Why choose a path? Why not stand here and grow? The world says hurry, the world says pick one, the world says keep moving, the world says go.

Why not stay? Why not stand? Why not look about you? Why not grow deep down roots and tall swaying branches and reach for more sunlight and brooks of lapping light? Where is it you have to rush off to? Where are you journeying, except towards death, who will find you sure enough here on the forest floor when the time comes? Why not meet her here on your own territory, on your own terms and turf? When she sidles up, you will feel her footsteps in the soil, and the weariness in your sap, and you will be ready, after a life wisely lived, not spent searching out the inevitable.

Stand in my love-light-life and be a tree. Grow and spread, dive and delve. Be the marker of meeting, the embodiment of encounter, the tree of my trysting. All is here.

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016