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'The Outskirts of His Glory' Extracts & Readings ...
'When did you last listen to the grass grow?! Or pay attention to the song being sung by that bird who always visits the back garden in the afternoon? Oftentimes we become so waylaid by our own busyness and preoccupations we fail to even notice these things, much less stop and pay attention to them.
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I sometimes suspect that the Lord has a greater sense of humour than we think, and that heaven is a place of laughter as much as it is of worship and adoration. Not the little titters of polite appreciation but rambunctious roars and gleeful guffaws, burbling belly laughs of pure, untarnished joy. Revelation says there will be no more sorrowing or sighing, no more tears or sadness – what else will be in their stead but smiles and delight?'
Joy
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When last did I tarry
in this way of waiting
letting waves speak wonders
and sun leave smiles?
To sit with no purpose
no plan
no plaything
Merely to capture a world as it passes.
​
A twist of a tail
And the wings of a kite –
tethered not by string or line –
Catch the thermal draft of upward air.
Then low, now high
in the sky.
Effortless entertainment
Delicious descent
Joy in the call to accompany.
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Could it be that all of this
is shown so I might see
this life with all its fulness
is your gracious
death-bought -
gift
for me?
And that I should live it
Full
and
Free.
Full
of laughter
Free
to play and pray and worship
to feel the ups and downs
the highs, the lows
the mountaintops and valleys
Knowing that in you
just you
I am (w)holy complete.
Full.
​
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Perspective
As I Pass
I have walked
wandered
stumbled
past you
so many times
Blind, I think, to even your presence.
Unaware, certainly, of your beauty.
I have fixed my attention on a point before me
The destination the end
not the process.
The place the path is going
hurriedly more important
than the steps I tread today.
I have blended you with your neighbour
Labelled you both the same
Failed to see where the one has end
or where the other starts.
I’ve gazed across a landscape
Blurred the intricacy of individuality
Seen just one colour, one hue
instead of seeing you.
And even as I’ve hummed along
whistling while I walk
I’ve drowned the lilt and melody
of all the songs you’ve sung.
Deafened by my thoughts of me
I’ve missed the call of you.
You, whose voice my Lover loves
more unique than every snowflake
Bought with all of heaven’s Treasure
more priceless than a pearl.
The masterpiece in the artist’s collection
Which demands I stop
notice
remark
Cry, ‘Look, come over here
to see what I have seen’.
To raise a flag of recognition
a banner unfurled
a royal standard lifted
That other travellers and tourists
pilgrims and passers-by
May not
like me
fail to recognise the significance of you.
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There's a chapter in 'Outskirts' dedicated to the need to sometimes see the mountains in our lives from a different perspective. This is a reading of the poem associated with that chapter.