flower

this quiet space

You call me into
this quiet space
where You alone
can teach me
You, of the Soft Hands
and the Tender Heart
You, of the Fierce Freedom
and Powerful Protection

You reach into
my woundedness
and draw me forth
from my own clutching keeping
Out of that tiny, hidden room
where the child is still weeping

You gather the vapor
from all around me
of what I have so carelessly given away
and from it, form a cloud
of cleansing rain above my head
to wash away all fear and dread
with Your kind, insistent shower~
to clear the dust of my diminishment
and reveal the gift of gracious power
You have bestowed upon me

Sometimes I feel
I sleep beneath
the mountain of my prayers
My light reluctant and resting underground
Oh…I have found treasure there
in the dark deep necessity of my hiding;
a Faithful Presence there abiding
while I so busy about mothering and othering
I did not notice I was smothering
in a cold cave of my own making

But once again
You are quaking
in my simple soul
So invested You are
in ushering me into the Light
and kissing me Whole~
in healing me and vesting me
in Your Own colorful finery~
a little flower in Your Field,
face upturned to the Sun.

It is humbling to realize how often over the course of my life I have circled back to an acute sense of weariness and need for rest and healing. Perhaps that is universally part and parcel of living with chronic illness, pain, and fatigue. Perhaps it is also inherent to the particularities of my own story. Regardless, here I am again. 
Working full time has become increasingly challenging, especially in the last year, and now I am also navigating relocation and looking for a more doable job in the little town where I will soon be living. I have also come to a pretty intense place in trauma therapy, which is good and necessary, but also requires a lot of energy. All things totaled, I simply have not had the energetic or emotional capacity for creativity. Thus, I am once again dipping into the archives, and trying not to feel too guilty about that. I need to more graciously accept that it's a fallow inner season for me, and hopefully soon to be a more slow, restful, peaceful, healing outer season as well. 
In selecting something to share today, I hoped to come across something reflective of what I am feeling in this moment, or which at least acknowledges what I need. I believe I found exactly that in this piece. 
It's my hope that I might feel a predominant sense of gratitude for the reliable, gentle welling up of Spirit, Who seems tireless in Her coming back round to comfort, re-mind, and revitalize; rather than spending too much time feeling sad or sorry about being creatively unproductive for a while, or even forever. There are many things I can no longer do, or cannot accomplish as easily as I once did. I'm sure this will become more and more true, so this is good practice! 
May we all give ourselves, and those we love,  permission to rest and release; to look to the Light, and simply be. 
Deep Peace of the Quiet Space to you.
~Cheryl Anne