Father or husband?

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It’s always seemed strange when I hear fellow Christians begin their prayers with, “Father God”. I understand they follow the example given by Christ himself, “Our father which art in heaven etc.” Yet it feels so distant somehow.

Coming to Jesus totally outside any church system, an artist and hippie drop out, it came naturally for me to pray to Jesus (God’s intermediary). My relationship from the beginning was close, very close. Easier to understand was the Catholic concept of “the bride of Christ”. Our relationship with our father, no matter how we love him, can never be as intimate as that of our husband or wife. We do not “become one” with our father, that seems almost blasphemous, yet Jesus claims us as His bride.

Perhaps this concept became real to me because for days after I received Jesus I found flowers at my feet. I don’t know how they got there, I just looked down and there they were. Yes, of course there are many explanations, but it has never happened before or since. How is not important. I just knew He was telling me He loved me in a way I could understand.

It’s not that I wish to convert everyone to my version of prayer. Rather, I think this concept might relieve much of the loneliness in the world. Everyone doesn’t always find that special someone to share their life. Even if they do that person may not be there forever, but Jesus offers Himself as the ultimate bridegroom, a man rich beyond belief, strong beyond wonder, able to care for us and solve every problem, who’ll stand by us no matter what with unconditional love. For Him each of us are that “special someone”. Before that fact loneliness disapates and the heart fills with joy.

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Happy Christmas from songbird! But, if not…

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Wishing you all a wonderfully happy Christmas full of love, joy, hugs and kisses from those you love.

For those alone this Christmas, for whatever reason, may the Prince of Christmas himself fill your heart with the joy of his presence, that never leaves, always loves, forgives, cares. No matter where we find ourselves in life he’s just a prayer away each and every day and would love to spend Christmas cuddled together with you, bringing with him the magic innocence of childhood and the implicit wisdom of the ages.

From this little birdie let me add my own love, brother, sister, and a long lingering hug to any that may need one. xxx

Lonesome valentines

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I have mixed feelings about Valentine’s Day. On one hand I applaud anything that celebrates love, on the other I feel bad for those who don’t happen to be in a love relationship on Valentines day.

I’m thinking of a friend that sent a humorous (but not really funny) plea for a valentines card and another who posted a (again not so funny) video of a guy putting alcohol in a trolley with the caption, “what I’ll be doing for Valentine’s”.  For the bereaved or those trying to overcome a broken relationship, or even just the “less desirable” Valentine’s day can be painful. The greedy marketeers don’t help either.

Would I like to abandon it? No, but adapt it maybe. I’m remembering folks who celebrate it well. My Chinese son in law that would always order two lots of roses one for my daughter and one for me, my grandson who asked his mum if he could send granny flowers too, or a pastor heading up a youth camp who bought a rose for every woman on staff married or not.

I’ve always felt there were two kinds of “love” the kind that looks inward and becomes obsessive, jealous, restrictive, (not really love) and the good kind that begins in two hearts and overflows its bounty on others. When Valentines Day celebrates the second it can be a wonderful time. After all there are so many ways love is found and  expressed not only being “in love”.

Do I have a valentine? Sure do!

He paints the sky in the glorious colours of sunrise to greet my day, He creates the flowers poking their tiny heads through the winter earth. I am blessed by such love. Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

Alone.

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(From September 2014)

Song Bird Songs

miner

Darkness enshrouded him. Gasping for breath he looked around seeing little in the enshrouding dust of the cave in. The glimmering light on his helmet did little to reassure, catching glimpses of crushed bodies, rock, smashed timbers, and pervading dust.
Heart pounding, he tentatively flexed each limb. Pain throbbed through one leg where a soft oozing spoke of blood, his arms ached but not past moving. He stumbled to his feet seeking a path out, his head spinning as the tiny circle of light focused again and again, scanning the rock where the tunnel had been. He was walled in!
“Don’t panic man! Don’t panic!” he told himself as his pulse raced, and mind swirled.
“There’ll be a rescue party. They’ll dig us out…” Grimly he checked the bodies, some mere hands protruding oddly from the debris, some half buried in reddened rock. He alone was spared, his “five minute…

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The Guest.

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(From June 2014)

Song Bird Songs

candle

(Flash fiction on a theme of “shadow”)

My friend the shadow dwells with me. Like a comfortable blanket he shrouds my existence sucking the colour from the shades I glimpse beyond our window. Colours that blaze and glow in the life of others fizzle and die upon my bleak casement, shadow cloaks them.

It wasn’t always so. There was a time I lived amidst the colours, radiant and free, but now I live with shadow, he pales the hues that would hurt my eyes.

Alone with shadow I rest, afraid to raise the blinds upon the outer world, to look upon others in their bright resplendent hues. My clothes are soiled and torn with the wounds of life. That’s why I chose to live here with shadow, he comforts me.

There is a knock on my door. I tremble as it opens. Why it is not locked? I shade my…

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A walk with the Dream Master. (Dream master4)

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footprints

“Can we go walking?” she asked in the depths of a troubled dream.
“Of course, come,” he answered, “just reach out your hand.” An icy precipice stood before her feet.
“Its not really there,” he whispered, “you just think it is, so for you it’s real, like the gap between our worlds”. Taking his hand she stepped over.
“Now, let’s walk. See the snow is deep here. That’s when you leave the deepest, longest lasting marks, when the snows of life are deep. Look out over the valley and realise how far you’ve come. It feels a little lonely, but this is where you can hear my voice best, also the voices of others”.
“Let’s go higher.” Transforming like spirits they soar upward. “Up here we can see much but leave no footprints for others to follow. It would be easier for you if I brought you here, you could watch over all your loved ones, but you could no longer communicate and there’d be no footprints for them to follow,” He says. “Do not mind the difficulties and the cold, I’m here to help you find a way through, and others may follow”.
“Look down at the snow and see the tracks you and others have made.” The valley was full of interwoven patterns mapping the snow.