So much beauty, but so much pain

And anyway

Despite the forecast, here comes the rain.

To-do lists growing longer,

Despair growing stronger,

Don’t know if I can make another day,

And anyway

What is the good of it all?

My past always comes to call.

The sun rises and sets the same

On a wasteland that forgets my name.

So my cries fall on deaf ears,

No-one sees my tears,

Understands my deepest fears.

And anyway

The whole thing’s such a mess,

The shame, the hopelessness.

No way out – nevertheless:

A baby in a manger,

Born into grief and danger,

Rejected as a stranger;

But anyway

What kind of foolish rescue plan

Is that? Holy God becoming man?

Why would He want to save me,

After all the chances He gave me?

I just don’t understand.

He should have walked away.

But anyway

Emmanuel

Bursts into the broken space.

Tears, streaming down my face,

How can I accept this grace?

And anyway

If He really knew me

He would see right through me…

But anyway

He’s looking straight into my eyes,

No disgust and no surprise,

Steadily, with loving gaze.

And straight away
I glimpse the light of better days.

I take His hand,

My heart ablaze.

When I have prepared

Beautiful soft sand for your feet.

You let yourself be set about

By clinging tendrils of seaweeds,

Which are so easy to brush off

When you turn to Me.

Look at this beautiful double shell,

I purified you at your baptism,

And again by my Spirit.

The dull grey of these pebbles

Becomes rich and gleaming

With the washing of My gentle waves.

So many burdens, too much flotsam,

Let me make you light, useful,

Magnificent,

With the touch of My hand.

Simplify, purify,

Listen to the sounds of the sea.

Rest in Me,

Open your hands,

And walk freely, joyously,

Carried along by the breeze

Of My will for your life.

So why am I hiding here, covered in shame?

Imprisoned by secrets, betrayals and lies,

While His risen beauty dazzles my eyes.

I don’t understand why He’s looking for me,

When I am so far from what I should be.

Such bitter streams of denial have flowed,

Stumbling blindly along the wrong road.

Doesn’t He know I’m not up to the mark?

A sinner like me belongs in the dark,

Inhabiting shadows of quiet despair …

And yet

And yet

He is standing right there,

Real and bright, a stranger well-known,

And I am so weary of struggling alone.

In the cool of the garden, His call is so sweet,

I drop all my burdens,

And fall at His feet.

© Sarah Sansbury, Easter 2017

A candle alight in my quiet kitchen,

Peaceful, reflective,

Challenging:

Old and new words come to mind,

“This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine”;

“Jesus bids us shine with a pure, clear light,

Like a little candle burning in the night”;

“There let it for thy glory burn,

With inextinguishable blaze”.

How can I shine for You?

Fan into life this flame

And cosset its fragility,

Cupping hands around it

Against fierce draughts

Of doubt, scorn, belittling,

From others, or myself.

Shelter me, so I can grow

Tall and straight,

Bright and beautiful,

A tiny, flickering tongue of light,

Pure, serene, transforming to

An incandescent flame, blazing a trail

To burn away injustice and fear,

Bringing shining truth,

Warmth, life, solid hope

Into the blackest night.

O Light of the world

Who started so small, became all in all,

You are the one I follow.

Jesus, kindle my timid heart,

Lighten my darkness, steady my steps,

Create me as illuminator

Of dark and desolate places.

Your fire in me, Lord,

Shield, but send out.

So why do I still feel the fear?

I can’t rhyme it, or time it,

Can’t explain it away,

But at the end of the day

It all comes down to trust,

And I must

Listen only to You,

Only Your words are true.

I have lived with a lie

Saying that I

Am not good enough;

I will always let people down,

That in the end,

I won’t be the friend

That everyone is glad to have around.

A lie I have learned

That twists as it turns,

It leaves me wiped out

And fills me with doubt.

I think I do know

Where such lies come from, so

Why do they still grip me tight,

And force me to fight

For each inch of my soul?

I long to be whole.

And I thought we’d begun,

That the battle was won,

Jesus, You are my Lord,

I believe in Your word,

Show me what You see,

How I am meant to be.

Don’t let me live with this label

At the foot of the table,

When You have created me

Beautiful and free.

I’m your precious child,

With a heart running wild,

You have given me gifts

That are meant to lift,

Encourage, embellish,

A real life to relish.

So rip off these chains

Of the fear that remains,

The bonds now broken

Of those hard words once spoken,

Which condemned me

And left me

Uncertain and low.

The real me

Is ready to go.

with fire in my heart,

eagerly eat breakfast,

set out again towards the temple.

We start with prayer:

every day, we are more.

Anyone can join us – all are so welcome!

We share everything.

New brothers, new sisters, new life:

young and old, all one in Jesus the Christ.

Who would have thought

I could become one of these?

I’ve always been

back of the crowd, bottom of the pile,

untouchable cripple, barely-noticed beggar,

lying forgotten in the dust.

But one miracle day

only this past week

the Spirit-breath grew to a gale,

streaming into body and soul,

healing even me in one glorious second,

lifting me into blessed belonging.

Just ahead, across the temple courtyard,

Simon called Peter looks up,

squints in the morning light,

catches sight of me.

He grins broadly,

and I break into running.

© Sarah Sansbury, 19^th June 2020

I have been dressing myself

With oldest clothes

From the depths of my closet.

I have got behind with the washing,

And they are all that remains.

They do the trick, cover the essentials,

But they are not my best look!

Don’t let me get so behind, dear Lord,

With the washing of my sins.

It’s so easy to slip slowly away

Until one day, I look in the mirror,

And see a ragged reflection

Of what should be.

But these are the days

For putting on purple cloaks

Of a royal child,

Beautifully crafted shoes

For swiftness,

A jewel-bright crown

To be worn with head held high.

Perhaps it’s time at long last,

To throw those old clothes out?

Weak people,

Frightened people,

People dragged down by monotony and despair.

God only uses today,

Where we are, as we are.

The only train to Heaven

Departs from – here.

Satan wants to keep us

Weak, frightened, dragged down,

In chains to the past,

Hiding our faces from tomorrow.

He shouts out loudly:

“You are worth nothing, you will be stuck here forever.

Why would God want anything to do with you?

Better just to make the best of a bad job,

Buckle down, look out for yourself,

Don’t step out of your comfort zone.”

Such words make me weep,

And they make God weep, too,

And He replies, “I will break the chains,

I will bind up the wounds,

I am the Healer, the Strengthener,

I am the One who loves you,

More than life itself.”

Shut up, Satan, and get lost,

Once and for all!

The mystery is so deep, Lord,

But I am your child.

Transform my today,

Lift my longing eyes,

Guide my uncertain feet,

Free me from my fears.

Teach me, Father,

To dance lightly and joyfully

In the constant melody of Your love.

Make something beautiful,

Recycle my junk,

Take me beyond my wildest imaginings.

Let nobody’s expectations hold me back,

Especially not my own.

So shall I be truly free, and wholly alive in You.

the well-worn gate;

unlock a dungeon

or two.

Abandon yourself

like a leaf on the stream

to the life I have

for you.

Be the tower,

the shelter from storms,

place your trust in Me;

redeem your time,

for you are Mine,

beautiful, brave, and free.

Be the water,

be brightest of flowers,

be the tree standing tall above;

be the breeze,

refreshing and cool,

be peace

and joy

and love.

© Sarah Sansbury, 29/09/2021 – Flowers of the Field

despite the voices goading me:

“So you think you are special?

A child could join the dots

of what you’re writing.”

Nevertheless,

Wilderness

is my

home.

Child,

listen

to My voice.

Only My words,

sweet whispers of hope,

can bring life from the dust.

Become My grace-carrier,

writing and speaking in My name,

oasis of truth in the desert.

© Sarah Sansbury, 11^th March 2022 (at Abbaye de Troussures)