I wish one and all a very Merry Christmas! Today you might like to read my post on Godspace, called “A Glimpse of Glory” https://godspace-msa.com/2016/12/25/a-glimpse-of-glory/ I’ll be back in the New Year. God bless us, every one.
love Keren x
Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14 NIVUK)
‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’). (Matthew 1:23 NIVUK)
To fall or not to fall, that is the question. Who will catch me but death, unless I float, feathered flowing, toing and froing, on streams of holy spirit air breathed to save me? Can I continue to stand here on the very edge of things, the sharpness of the earth’s deep wound cutting into my feet, calling me downwards into the abyss? Where is God in the presence of these dark jaws? Can I call to him here, even as I steel myself to jump? Does he answer the broken bleeding messes standing here at the top of all things?
Certainty rushes in with the solidity of wind and the sureness of cloven hooves. My God is at the top, at the bottom, and all the way down. Breathing the blessed assurance of this, I step back from the edge, and learn once more to look around me.
© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016
Photo from morguefile.com
Not neatly in a line, singly spaced on a clean beach, waiting for the clichéd response. Not theologically twee and comforting, suffering castrated of its messy, birthing dance steps, but instead, dog’s feet, running through mud, splattering sods everywhere and all about. Paws at full pelt, eyes on the ball, not caring about dirt or the inevitability of B. A. T. H. s to come later but completely alive, here in the now, mastering mucky mindfulness. Sinking only for a moment, splayed across the surface, connected to the earth, but skating across it. Leaving our marks and knowing that when God walks alongside us, his dusty, bleeding feet make tracks beside, before, behind, above and below ours. Not one set of footprints, but seven holy treads, Emmanuel on the way to Emmaus.
©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016