Tag Archives: respite

Some News, and a Spider in a Bucket.

Dear friends, my health is not good, my energy very limited. Blogging every day is too much for me, especially when I feel called to write so many books! So I am going to change the habit of a lifetime and be sensible. I shall still write here, but not so often, and with much more spontaneity than discipline.  There will still be some Veil of Tears or Landscape of Love pieces, but also other types of sharing. I hope you will find the variety refreshing and stick with me as I work on all the outpourings the Lord is so gracious as to give me.

My readers will be the first to hear about everything!

Blessings, Keren

Read on to encounter a spider in a bucket….

 

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In my back garden there is a spider in a bucket. She has been in there some weeks now, and she does not move, save for a few steps back and forth now and again to avoid rain, or to move round to a more sheltered side of her slippery home. I don’t know how she is staying stuck there living in the perpendicular, how she doesn’t fall down, or how she is still alive, since she does not appear to eat or drink.

She is staying still because she is wrapped tightly around a precious bundle. She holds under her thorax, a white parcel papoose, at least as big as her own body. It is an egg sac, where her young are swaddled, and are making ready to hatch and come forth into life, even as she, presumably, is waiting to die. I wonder if the young will eat her, as happens with some spidery beginnings. I could Google it, but I’d rather not know for sure. I wonder if she knows what will happen next. I wonder where her self-preservation went, and how a spider can lend itself so completely to the ways of its own nature that she doesn’t run from her responsibilities, but just sits.

And I wonder how like that spider I am, sitting here in bed, waiting for something, for anything good, to come forth from me. I am sat here with my belly full of wonder, of ideas and imaginings, of stories and theories and the love of God, and I ponder his word here and hold it all precious in my heart.

Will my words pour forth and turn on me and eat me up? Or will they thank me and run to spin their own webs, live their own lives, tell their own tales?

I do not know. But like my immobile arachnid friend, I will wait and see. Too tired now to run away, and in any case, how could I leave my bundle of beautiful word weavings unborn and never known? I must protect them, and they must be released. We sit and we wait.

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

 

31: Cave Man

31 cave stocksnap

He attacked them viciously and slaughtered many of them. Then he went down and stayed in a cave in the rock of Etam.” Judges 15:8

I am thinking about caverns, the places we hide ourselves or retreat to today, and this example from the life of Samson intrigued me. When we’ve been through something traumatic or exhausting, a cavern seems like a good place to be. We often draw ourselves in, like a snail into its shell, treating our own bodies or homes as a sanctuary, a place to lick our wounds or just take some time to breathe and recover ourselves.

For some of us, this can take many years. I often see it written or hear it said that men need “cave time” after confrontation or difficulty, but I think the same is true of women too, and even children do this. But an interior place of silence where we feel we can protect ourselves and defend our ground, is a very useful life-tool to have, and sadly, few emotional outlets are deemed acceptable to men, so perhaps this is why this one is well-used by them in particular. But these caves we hole ourselves up in are meant to be temporary: places of respite and restoration.

Staying here for long periods of time can lead to an isolation and seclusion that may become unhealthy for us. I guess it really depends on why we are there, why we are drawn back into our shells. These places can become a breeding ground for self-pity or a foundation for a deeper relationship with the Lord. If we find ourselves sickened by the violence of the world (including our own, as perhaps Samson felt), then time set aside in solitude and silence can become a hermitage, a place of peace and prayer.

So as with anything in life, it is about recognising seasons and not outstaying them. I find this a hard truth to take in today, since my life for the last twenty years has been an enforced cave dwelling, with my chronic illness keeping me hidden away from the world. I have come to love the quiet and hate the busy-ness of the world, and don’t have the energy to partake in society in any case. I hope I have used some of my cave time well, becoming a contemplative creative. God has certainly used my setting aside to mould me better into my true self. Perhaps I shall remain a recluse. But if the seasons change, my health improves and I feel the light at the entrance intriguing or calling me, I might venture out into new pastures.

All timings are the Lord’s and he uses our times of society and of seclusion for good, if only they are given over to him. So even in the recesses of our caverns, in the dark and failing light, we can say, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

 

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Photo from stocksnap.com