on birthdays eve

Here is the poem Bethany gave me for my birthday:

Grown-Up

Was it for this I uttered prayers,

And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,

That now, domestic as a plate,

I should retire at half-past eight?

Disclaimer:  I should hope to always keep the wonder of a child with me, to find joy in the little things, to not dismay when grown-up reponsibilites take root and to always remember to dance and play. Life is really too short to be only grown-up and no child.

1 am

dear life

I have not squandered you

you still stand as though transfixed

by what has been done and what will be

dear sky

I have not reached your limit

you still beckon me

limitless endless then and now

dear God

you have not deserted me

my darkest moments still sing You

You permeate my deepest longing

And when I am weeping

I am ripe

If I had grown in some generous place-

if my hours had opened with ease-

I would make you a lavish banquet.

My hands wouldn't clutch at you like this,

so needy and tight.

Then I'd have dared to squander you,

you Limitless Now.

I'd have tossed you into the ringing air

like a ball that someone leaps for and catches

with hands outstretched.

I would have painted you:  not on the wall

but in one broad sweep across heaven.

I'd have portrayed you brashly:

as mountain, as fire, as a wind

howling from the desert's vastness.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

in winnipeg

I feel you as I feel the cold

close and crinkling up my spine

my song is life

I sung it in the dark

and the world moved to the sound

The Office...Part 2

The other day the guy from my office who calls me Allison walked by my desk. Now the receptionist who is usually here is the daughter of the President of the company, so this guy comes up to me and asks,

"Allison, who's daughter are you?"

"I'm no one's daughter," I replied.

Realizing that my last comment sounded ridiculous I corrected myself,
"I mean to say, I'm no one's daughter here, and my name's not Allison."

"What?" He asks incredulous. "It's not?"

"No, it's Laura."

"But I've been calling you Allison all this time."

"yeah".

"Well..." he says slowly, as though pondering this concept, "Have a good weekend...Laura."

For the next several days every time he would walk by my desk he would say with zest and valour,

"Have a good day...Laura." Or "Weather looks great...Laura." He was so proud...so assured, but then something awful happened. Yesterday he walked by my desk saying,

"Good morning Faye."

He hurried away looking a little ashamed of himself, and I believe though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, he knew my name was not Faye. Needless to say, he almost got it right.

The Office...

Everyday at the office one of the guys here at Regal Energy walks past my desk and says,

"Good morning Allison", so confidently assured that that is my name.

I never introduced myself as Allison, I've never been called Allison, and I certainly am not an Allison. I haven't corrected him yet because he walks past my desk before I can get a word in. However it is only getting worse. It seems he wants to utter the name, "Allison" whenever he walks by me now, even if he's just making a comment about the weather. For example:

"It's a beautiful day out there Allison."

"Enjoy your weekend Allison."

"I'm leaving now Allison." etc. etc.

Whatever put the notion into his head that my name is Allison? And how can I put a stop to something that is already snow-balling out of control? To correct him now would seem...cruel.

A Walk in the Dark

Thoughts from C.S.Lewis's, "The Silver Chair".

Jill, Eustace and Puddleglum all fell down into the Underworld after their escape from Harfang. Imagine the dread that must have filled each one as they sat in the darkness awaiting the unknown.

You see, they had fallen into the Underworld almost by accident. They had a faint idea that Aslan required them to be under the large rocks above them, and yet they did not know for certain why they were there, what their mission was or if they would ever get back to the surface again.

They waited in the darkness until a voice came to them. The voice of the Warden of the Underworlds. He and all of his men took the three travellers into the depth and darkness of the Underworld to be brought before the witch. As they went deeper and deeper down, and as they got further and further from the surface of the earth, what must they have been thinking?

"Will we ever see the sun again?"
"Will we be down here forever?"
And perhaps, "We made a mistake somewhere along the way...surely we must have!"

And yet...the Underworld was exactly where they were meant to be. The Prince, who they were meant to save was trapped in the Underworld and they were on their way to get him. Yet, the idea of it all sent chills up and down my spine. There they were, trapped in the darkness, taken hostage by Underworld men and yet that was the plan, that was exactly what was meant to happen in order for them to find the Prince!

How often have we found ourselves in the dark? How often have we thought, "surely, I must be on the wrong track! Something has gone horribly wrong and I shall never see the sun again."

And yet, don't lose heart! Perhap the very reason why you find yourself in strange and unknown territory, is because you need to cross that territory in order to find yourself doing exactly what you were meant to do.

Perhaps Jill thought,

"I have done something wrong. I have disobeyed Aslan and nearly forgotten the signs. Thus, he has sent me for punishment into a dark place. If only I had been careful and not fallen into this hole! If only I had known and stayed above the surface."

If she had her wish, and been up at the surface then the Prince could never be found.
Take heart friends, in those times of darkness, who knows but that it is exactly where you are meant to be. Our walks in the darkness are the closest thing to exercising our faith fully...we do not know what is at the end, but we must keep walking, trusting and believing that somehow that which we are called to do will be fulfilled, even if we find ourselves miles below the surface.