My Jesus, my Jesus...

Have just been to see a local production of "Jesus Christ, Superstar" - need to express my feelings.


'My Jesus!
My Jesus!'
That's all I could think
as I watched them act out His story.
Took me by surprise, that "my" - really personal.
Hadn't realised how much I love Him!

I tend to pray more to the Father
than to a personal Jesus.
Yet this deep, deep feeling
erupted from within me,
burst out from my heart - 
"My Jesus! My Jesus!
They're hurting my Jesus!"

As the tears rolled down my face,
it changed to
"Oh God, oh God, oh God!"
Like an echo of Jesus'
"My God, my God, 
why have you forsaken me?"

When Peter touched 
the chained Jesus' hand,
begging His forgiveness for betraying Him,
how I wanted to touch Him too,
to tell Him how much I love Him.
My Jesus.
My Love.

I could turn this into a sermon
about touching Jesus' hand
in every act of love,
every person we reach out to;
but, right now,
all I want to do
is to kneel at His feet
and tell Him I love Him.

My Jesus, my Jesus,
my Love  x x x

Image via Google images, http://tammynischan.blogspot.co.uk/2010_10_01_archive.html

Lectio Divina - Legion, the Gerasene

Lectio Divina - reading the Bible in a meditative way, imagining yourself there in that situation, looking for meaning.

The reading for this morning's daily prayers was the story of the man from Gerasa who is so filled with demons he calls himself 'Legion'. As I read it, tears filled my eyes. I understood some of his pain as I have had depression myself and witnessed my husband captive to his own fears. I needed to write what I felt, so I share it with you now....

That poor man;

A legion of conflicting voices

waging war in his head,

tearing him apart,

tossing his battered mind from one to another

like a precious object

thrown by malicious bullies,

while he stood by

helpless and weeping.

The pain he must have felt!

The agony of helplessness

that made him roar and rage,

beyond any man's help - 

how could they see

the war inside him?

How could they know how it felt,

when even cutting your body

to try to release the demons

seems your only help.

And then Jesus came-

Jesus!

Compassion shining in His eyes,

Hope radiating from His healing hands.

And at first the man was afraid.

How would it be to be free?

This terror was so awful,

but it was his terror,

familiar to him.

What - who -  would he be without it?

It had been so long now,

he couldn't remember 

what sanity was like.

And Jesus looked,

and He touched,

and He healed.

And suddenly the fear was gone.

Gone!

The weight was lifted!

The dark, rumbling clouds

replaced with blue sky and sunshine.

He could see again - 

truly see!

The distorted, haunted,

ghost-screaming world

replaced with beauty and love,

and hope!

Then he remembered who he was - 

a beloved Child of God,

wanted, 

protected, 

safe.

And as he wept at Jesus' feet, 

all the angels of heaven

wept and rejoiced with him.

He was Home at last.

Image from Google search 

http://iamthemindfire.deviantart.com/art/CONTENTMENT-176419114

Patchwork church

Bleurrrgh! Don’t come too close, I’ve got the Dreaded Lurgi! Well, alright, it’s a heavy cold or hay fever or something: either way you don’t want to catch it. Consequently am off work and was unable to attend special Choral Evensong yesterday for which, as a choir member, I’d been practising for weeks. Was really disappointed as it was a sung service from the Book of Common Prayer and not a regular occurrence at my local church. (Though it may well become one.)

One thing I love about my church is the variety of ways it offers for worshipping God. Want a lively, charismatic service? Come to monthly ‘Praise God Together’! Want a Holy Communion with hymns? Come to weekly Common Worship! Want a quiet, no singing, traditional Communion? Come to early 8.00 service! Part of my Patchwork nature is that, at various times, I have found all of these helpful and the appropriate way to worship. In my journeying I have also been part of a house church, and enjoyed silent Quaker worship too, but there is something so serene about a sung choral evensong that stills my soul.  Ember, in her blog ‘Kindred of the Quiet Way’ used the phrase ‘stroking her fur the right way’ and I know just what she means!

Kindred of the Quiet Way

Church website