Posts Tagged ‘Soul’

Apollo 13 was the 1995 American drama film directed by Ron Howard. The film stars Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon, and Bill Paxton. The film dramatises the 1970 Apollo 13 lunar mission. Howard went to great lengths to create a technically accurate movie, employing NASA’s technical assistance in astronaut and flight controller training for his cast, and even obtaining permission to film scenes aboard a reduced gravity aircraft for the realistic depiction of the “weightlessness” experienced by the astronauts in space.

Astronauts James Lovell, Jack Swigert and Fred Haise are launched aboard Apollo 13 for America’s third Moon landing mission. Three days into the mission Swigert is told to perform a standard housekeeping procedure of stirring the two oxygen tanks.  When he flips the switch, one tank explodes, emptying its contents into space and sending the craft spinning.  This explosion deprives their spacecraft of most of its oxygen supply and electric power, forcing NASA’s flight controllers to abort the Moon landing, and turning the mission into a struggle to get the three men home safely.

Houston, we’ve a problem ~ Jack Swigert

This part of the film, when Swigert stirs the tank, is a defining moment.  Nothing is the same after this point.  The mission is aborted and the astronauts and the flight control team scramble to find a way to get Apollo 13 home safely. 

This week I’ve been thinking about how God stirs our soul and reminds us of how he has set eternity in our hearts.  Sometimes we forget, but there are those fleeting moments when we realise that we are part of something much bigger than our own lives.  It can often be confronting.  Just like Apollo 13, it can send us spinning out of control. 

Perhaps God stirs our soul (our spiritual tanks) occasionally to bring us back on track, and to focus us on what’s important.  I’m not sure about you but when God stirs my soul it knocks me sideways and forces me to choose.  To choose to see it as a problem and continue spinning or, to look for the opportunity to realign myself with the one who created me – for a purpose, for a reason, and with a plan in mind.

Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts or experiences about how God stirs your soul.  If not here, then somewhere this week.  It may encourage someone who’s in a flat spin.  Will you do it?

Here’s my reflection on this.

Stir My Soul

I’m found in your perfect faith
For your faith
It stirs my soul

I’m found in your heart of hope
For your hope
It stirs my soul

I’m found in your eyes of joy
For your joy
It stirs my soul

I’m found in your arms of love
For your love
Has made me whole

He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
Ecclesiastes 3:10-12

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Jesus, Lover of My Soul

Charles Wesley (18 December 1707 – 29 March 1788) was an English leader of the Methodist movement, son of Anglican clergyman and poet Samuel Wesley, the younger brother of Anglican clergyman John Wesley and Anglican clergyman Samuel Wesley (the Younger), and father of musician Samuel Wesley, and grandfather of musician Samuel Sebastian Wesley.

Charles Wesley is mainly remembered for the many hymns he wrote. One of my favourite hymns is Jesus, Lover of My Soul . Its stirring words speak of a personal and intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. It reveals Jesus as Lover, Protector, and Provider.

Actually, it’s really the title of the hymn that strikes me most. It just really speaks to me of the intimate nature of Jesus and his love. 

About 300 years later Hillsong wrote a song  by the same name.  Everytime I sing this song it gets me.  It’s only two verses but it’s one of the most powerful songs I know. You can find the Hillsong version here on YouTube

I may never be able to write a hymn like Charles Wesley or write lyrics like Hillsong, but I do know that Jesus is the Lover of my Soul.  Here’s my reflection:

Jesus, Lover of My Soul

In the shadow of my mind
You cast your brilliant light,
Your love has found my burdened soul
As it worries through the night.

Jesus, your perfect love
Casts out my deepest fear,
Once more I realise you never left,
You’ve always been right here.

Please remind me when I forget
That you are the lover of my soul,
Transform my heart and renew my mind
As you work to make me whole.

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I like poetry and I believe all poems are good. Some poems are a badge of honour or an emblem of courage.  Most poetry  I write is my  attempt to say the unsayable.  Some of  my poems really hit the nail on the head, with others I just hit my thumb, and some are just a collection of words that may never see the light of day. 

What I have found with poetry is that it is possible to write something that is universal, something to which everyone can relate to, yet at the same time address some personal desire to express emotions and feelings.  Poems are really just doors between the soul and the outside world.  There is something unique and humbling about writing a poem that opens a door for other people to walk through and see something previously unseen. This is an experience that can never be undone.

Here’s my story of how I write poetry and how fortunate I feel to be able create and open doors for people to walk through. Poetry challenges us as it requires us to let go of  reason and lose ourselves in words. During this process we can sometimes find parts of ourselves that we may have misplaced somewhere along the jorney of life.  What is it that you have misplaced?  How will you find it?

The Poet’s House

At the edge of reason
Inside the poet’s house,
There lies a walnut writing desk
With dusty books upon its shelf.

Through the dreary window of his soul
He feels the maddening wind,
The trees that bend and break
The leaves of paper fall in his bin.

The wind whispers as it wanders
As it walks around the room,
It’s pockets full of pensive hands
It’s voice is full of doom.

We speak our lies, the truth is dark
There is no light to save,
Your words will never blossom
Your garden is a grave.

Will the poet listen
Or turn towards the light,
At the edge of reason
On this wild and windy night.

An angel breathes life into his words
He rolls them around his mind,
The musings of his restless heart
Will make it out this time.

The words fly fast
His pen scrawls across the page,
Back from the edge of reason
The poet has centre stage.

The poet is finally complete
Exhausted, he feels so blessed.
A smile forms on the poets face
His heart and soul at rest.

The poet lives and writes at the frontier between deep internal experience and the revelations of the outer world. There is no going back for the poet once this frontier has been reached; a new territory is visible and what has been said cannot be unsaid. The discipline of poetry is in overhearing yourself say difficult truths from which it is impossible to retreat. Poetry is a break for freedom.
~ David Whyte

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We both meet here my friend
At this moment of time
In the words of this poem
We both share this same rhyme

The gift that we share
Some words in life’s sentence
A small part of our story
In one little parentheses

In this precious moment
Our souls greet each other
As part of God’s Kingdom
As sisters and brothers

So let joy complete us
As we encounter and share
Let us carry each other
In our hopes and our prayers

Peace be with you my friend
Until next time we meet
Through this avenue of words
In the very same street

May the road rise up to meet you
And may God guide your feet
May the sun warm your face
Until next time we speak.

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When my heart is breaking
I cry out to You my Lord,
Do you feel my anguish
As it cuts me like a sword?

When I pour out my heart to you
Does it weigh more or less?
Does it register on your scale
This misery of life’s mess.

In my words do you hear
The unspoken cries of my heart?
Those unheard whispers of my soul
That could tear my life apart.

I hear your heart, I know it well
I feel your pain today.
You know, I hear, a melody
As you cry to me and pray.

To me you are a tapestry
Your mess of life displayed.
The side you see is all tied up
With knots that have all frayed

If you could see the other side
Of how you look to me.
The painted landscape of your life
In vivid reality.

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What view do you need to see,
From your marble balcony?
Hill and trees, sun and shade,
A painted landscape that you have made.

Have you seen the other view,
From those who look up at you?
Is their world the same as yours,
Have you walked with them outdoors?

Through rose-coloured glasses what do you see,
Your picture-perfect reality?
Do you know where your blind spot lies,
Does it take you by surprise?

When you gaze out and drink your view,
Do you feel refreshed, renewed?
Does it fill you and make you whole
The view from the balcony of your soul?

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When heartache and trouble
Clamber like monkeys on your back
And your shoulders slump
With the weight of unexpected burden
May your long road rise to meet you
And clearly direct your path

When all hope seems lost
And your soul becomes dim
Behind your grey eyes that forget to sparkle
May a rainbow of bright thick colours
Splash over the canvas of your mind
And awaken you to choose life again

When you struggle on your own
With burdens too common to share
Because others have won medals
For burying their burdens
May you reach out
For we were always meant to
Share each others burdens

When someone pulls your thread
And you feel so unravelled
So tied up in knots and pulled apart
May you catch a glimpse of the other side of
Your tapestry of life
See it taking shape as a
Beautiful landscape

May these words dance around you
On a gentle warm breeze
May love surround you
And weave a cloak
Of hope and character
Around your life

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Anam Cara

My hope is my old friend
My soul extends to you
You love anchors me
To a faith I always knew

Anam Cara
Walk beside me
From here into the end
To where my soul finds rest
My new hope – my old soul friend

Walk with me by faith
When all hope seems lost today
When your churches crumble
This – with you I pray

Anam Cara
Walk beside me
From here into the end
To where my soul finds rest
My new hope – my old soul friend.

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Carry Me

Carry me away
Through your prayers,
Carry me away
Through your grief.

Carry me away
Through the carnage,
Carry me away
I want to meet with You.

Carry me away
This broken shell I cast aside,
Carry me away
My soul longs to embrace You.

Carry me away
Through the wreckage of my life,
Carry me away
So I may abide with You.

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The Avenue

In the avenue of my mind
An idea parked its car,
Got out and yawned
Then stretched its legs.

It walked past its white picket fence
Up the neatly trimmed garden path,
Unlocked the bright red door
And collected its clichés and junk mail.

The idea and its clichés went inside
Put its shopping bags down,
And decided it would be still
And think about itself.

It poured itself a cup of English Breakfast
And contemplated its original thought,
Where it came from, why it was here,
And if it had found what it was looking for.

With each sip of tea
The idea grew, filed its clichés,
And became a well-developed thought
With good intentions.

The thought went back outside
Locked the bright red door,
And ambled back down the path,
The path paved with good intentions.

The thought jumped in its car
And with tyres squealing,
Raced off back into the avenue
And lay down its rubber in my mind.

The thought left its tracks
In the avenue of my mind,
So that next time maybe
It might just drive action.

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If my mind is a tower of windows
That reaches toward the sky,
Why do I sit at the same one
And hope to wonder why.

If I stare out the same window,
And view the same scene each day,
Will it grow and shape my world,
Or will is set me in my ways?

Shall I step back and turn around
And find a different view,
Another window for my soul
To glance at vistas new.

Through different windows of my soul
I am no longer blind,
Complacency, habit and regret,
I leave them far behind.

So much hangs on my frame of vision
To build Your world, my view,
And with fresh eyes I see Your plan
Your way, Your life, Your truth.

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The Days of my Life

I walk with you alongside the quiet stream
And into the calm green fields.
You bring rest to my weary soul
And help me sleep.

My soul refreshed – you guide me
Along life’s darkest roads.
But I will fear nothing
For you are my travelling companion.

I kneel before you
You anoint me with Your Spirit,
In the presence of my enemies
You choose me.

My cup overflows with Your love
You are good when there’s nothing good in me,
All the days of my life You are with me
And I will dwell in Your house forever.

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I climbed to the top of life’s lonely hill,
To see what lay beyond,
I hoped for people, places and sights,
For my eyes to wonder upon.

I felt the winds of isolation,
As I stood there and looked down,
I saw more desolate empty hills,
I felt so desperately alone.

The valleys were covered with rolling mist,
The air was thick with words,
I breathed them all into my aching heart,
And then this voice I heard:

I have been here before you,
And I’ll be here until your end,
If only you’ll believe in me
I’ll be your closest friend.

For you’ll often be all alone,
The world will just let your drown,
Your only hope is in me alone,
So look up at me – not down.

Let me fill your empty soul
With my fire, truth and light,
And let your shadows fall far behind you,
As I exile them to the night.

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Hope Within Your Dream

Did you see me soar right past you yesterday
I flew on golden wings through the wind and trees I played

Did you feel me brush right past you yesterday
I lifted your umbrella do you hear the words I say

Did your hear me rustle right around you yesterday
I kicked the leaves around your feet as you rushed right on your way

Did you hope within your dream as I warmed your face today
And did that hope land on your soul like tiny birds at play

So listen for my voice as you work and live and play
And let your soul take flight for that’s where I am today

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Two Rivers

The river runs
Its course flows true,
It gave its life
For me – for you.

From snow capped peaks
It began to flow,
Through different valleys
Divided as it grows.

One life is birthed
Through a gentle pool
The other
Over raging waterfalls

Twin rivers speed
Toward their goal,
Seeking each other
To make them whole.

The rivers meet
Around a bend,
Two lost souls
At last are friends.

They somehow knew
They’d meet again
A knowing look
At Journeys End

The rivers run
Their course ran true,
Back into the life
That made me and you.

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