The Watcher

"The Hard Road."

2006-09-11T23:59:00.000+01:00

You have carried your burdens so far,
You have dragged your cross tilling the road
Till now, collapsing, you lay all down.
I will lift you, even as the Cyrenean helped me through,
Ploughing the path that led to destruction.
But in the end you will see the finality of your way
And you will suffer
Even as I suffered for you
The pain of separation, of spirit disengaged
From your beloved.
But remember I said “It is finished”
And so ‘twill be for you.
Time will be no more;
You will be restored, reunited,
Serenely joyous re-entering eternity.

Kittie Carr

Death and Eternity

2006-09-11T23:58:00.000+01:00

A Poem follows for all those who are suffering the pangs of separation from a loved one through death... and all the rest who will.... particularily for an esteemed work colleague who has just lost his wife to Cancer. We all mourn loss as we adjust to the empty space, even when we accept its inevitability ... see earlier poem "Still Life".
A Death started me on this expressive blogging lark... and it certainly keeps cropping up again, but it doesn't get any easier...each one is a gap in a different picture. How much harder will it be when the gaps are in the same picture?
Only God can help me through, only God gives me the answers... which is weird in a way, because I don't actually have any craving to live for ever at the moment...That's me being lazy I suppose - why else would I consider opting out of a heavenly life? I just love the way my life is complete with faith and I sometimes wouldn't mind if the end was oblivion, deep peace, 'cos eternity is quite scary, no matter how fulfilled I feel in worshipping my God, no matter how the Holy Spirit enables me to be more like Jesus... but I'll accept whatever comes because it's from God, & will be better than I could ever comprehend or imagine.

"Storms of Life."

2006-09-05T21:46:00.000+01:00

The storm builds up unseen as the trees
Sway and swing in dilatory dance,
Until sidelined, they grope,
Stretching out to catch the wind.
Fingers close frustrated,
Frozen till next sway
Of dance now obligatory;
Breathe of life carrying
Heaviness in its embrace
Till tears drop, tearing the tension
And leaves lie limply relieved,
Feeding from the freshness,
Released.

Kittie Carr

"Signs Along the Way."

2006-09-05T21:37:00.000+01:00

Following the track, I saw a Peacock
Butterfly laid out on the fresh stone
Red as dried velvet blood,
Eyes staring at me
Blue as the sea,
Its waves holding me transfixed.
Then a hoverfly, striped pretender to power,
And a bumble bee, tumbling, bumbling,
Stumbling over a straw.
And I saw, I knew Jesus’ eyes
Looked to me from His shed blood
While the father of all lies tried to fool me
That he could cause me pain,
Hissing around my ear;
But the blood had covered me
And I knew my redemption
Even as I stumbled over the straw-strewn path
Leading me on my narrow way, I saw
Food for the sparrow that falls, searching.

Kittie Carr

"Collision Courses"

2006-09-05T21:24:00.000+01:00

We all collide in the inevitable
Clash of orbits as we seek our own path,
Immoveable egos realising their
Integration of irresistible force,
Radar disengaged.

Lightning within snaps sharply,
Separation, disintegration of soul,
Mind fighting will, emotions crashing
Out of destined orbit,
Beyond control.

Even as we spiral dizzily
Realising our dangerous path,
Realignment is always reachable
As we reset our sights
On the Son.

Kittie Carr

"The End of the Summer."

2006-08-28T21:43:00.000+01:00

The Rowan berries lie heavy,
Dipping the boughs in holy adoration
To the earth that bore them.
They glow like drops of blood on the brow,
Falling for new life, renewal.

Moved from the mountain-top,
Ashy marks of pointed finger
Burning accusations
Appear on the leaves;
Toothed groups of thirteen,
Twelve disciples paired, repaired,
And the One at the head
Borne and bruised for our revival.

Kittie Carr

The Same but Different.....

2006-08-28T21:30:00.000+01:00

"A Higher Calling."

2006-08-28T21:21:00.000+01:00

Tree branches reach upward,
Lit with a golden glow
From the lamp of man’s approval
Like a choir’s halleluiahs,
Arms raised in praise
Pointing in worship
To their vision of the Creator.
Typed with the same call
Yet individually marked
With the stresses of existence,
Damaged but healed.

Kittie Carr

"The Silver Birch."

2006-08-28T21:19:00.000+01:00

Superficially lit by inner light, but
Blotched snootily with sooty besmirched cuts
Marking its pain
With the translucent pink stains of washed-out blood.
Dark branches reaching out,
With delicate thorn-like twigs spiking.
Transparent leaves, tiny, shaky, trailing low despondently,
Its beauty tarnished by despair
Disregarding its promise.

Kittie Carr

Rough but Beautiful....that's me!

2006-08-27T21:32:00.000+01:00

Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder!

Dwelling on Imperfection

2006-08-27T21:25:00.000+01:00

Another hard week...another death... more illness...I feel like the last little pig left at home when the other two have been devoured by the wolf... only it's at work instead of home..I've hardly seen home this week but I've already been attacked once by that wolf of circumstance...by two break-ins in the one night, a stolen/burnt out car...don't know which was worse, that or the lack of a night's sleep.... I really need my sleep!
However its not so bad...I will get a week off next week to recover. Noticeably anything I've written recently has lost its uplifting edge and has focused on the downside, observing our human difficulties and imperfections... I notice that even within the “norm” of relationships, difficulties abound, as will probably be seen in future poems. Perhaps rest will restore a more positive view by next month!

The words of the Chris Bowater song “Crown of Beauty”, and the lines “I could feast my eyes on imperfection” or I could see myself through God’s eyes with my “Crown of Beauty” caused me to question my focus. We can be redeemed from a life of imperfection, acceptable in His sight, enabled to call God Father if we accept Jesus as the one who came to save us. As was said last Sunday, we have the joy of knowing we are accepted just as we are, but need to balance that with the urge towards sanctification… conforming little by little to the image of Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit. Maybe its time to focus on something or someone more uplifting!

Broken but Alive: Life in the Cross

2006-08-27T21:20:00.000+01:00

"Damaged Goods."

2006-08-17T23:00:00.000+01:00

I’m diseased – ease me;
Medic me, mend me, repair me.
My cells are corrupted;
Cut me, burn me, cure me.
My virus makes me crash;
Reboot me, reconstruct me.

I’ve a hole in my heart – fill me;
My desires are hotly burning,
My hell is coldly dominating;
Cool me down,
Freeze me out,
Subdue my two-way pain.

I’m lost in this deep dark pit,
Despised, rejected, bruised by shame;
Subject me to change,
Raise me, remake me, help me fit.

Kittie Carr

Dealing With Imperfection.

2006-08-17T22:51:00.000+01:00

Imperfect Bodies.
I’ve been thinking about our desire for perfection and our quick but expensive fixes….face lifts or a nose job to fit us into our image of symmetrical beauty and balance; stomach-tucks to improve our appearance, make us appear fitter and overcome our emotional need to eat for comfort. So many people don’t like the package they were given or what they do to it. But none of us is perfect, in body, mind or emotionally. We have all wanted to be different at some stage of life, in the best case scenario, to be more like Jesus.
Sometimes it’s not so simple. Sometimes our bodies don’t develop properly, like the conjoined twins who need a complicated operation, and will have to share their limbs and organs if they survive; like the child with an extra chromosome, who will need extra care all their life or the child with an extra sensitivity to everyday substances or irregular brain patterns who will need daily medication to live a “normal” life. All of these abnormalities arouse feelings of tender compassion in those who know and love them and even in strangers, moving us beyond selfishness…. Rather like the Father’s love for us, despite our weaknesses. Is this because we feel it’s not their fault; we can’t blame them? They’re victims of circumstance, just like us, trapped in the inevitability of our shared history of the “not quite right”, the unrighteous, the legacy of the corruption of sin.

Imperfect Feelings.
What about someone whose mental or emotional instability causes them to act antisocially? We don’t lock them up for long anymore, we stabilise them and send them back out into society, with appropriate support. Even paedophiles who bring harm to the innocent are separated from society for a relatively short time. The doors are open for everyone to experience as full, as “normal”, a life as possible, through overcoming their particular problems, whether self-inflicted or caused by circumstance.
What about transexuals, those who feel they belong in a different body, whose sex has been confused as they have attributes of both sexes? Do we blame them? Do we treat them like ye old circus freak show? Do we consider their confusion? Do we try to understand?
Then there are those who deliberately choose to portray themselves as a member of the opposite sex either in dress or in action because emotionally they have desires to be treated as such? Is that perversion, an imbalance of hormones, or a person who has been emotionally damaged in their childhood? Can we judge the transvestite or homosexual? We have not felt their pain.
All deviance from the original man created in God’s image are the results of sin, man’s selfishness compounded since Adam when we first put our own desires before those of God. All of us are imperfect, but we accept minor transgressions as the norm. Those outside the norm can be cured, controlled or tolerated. We use mockery or political correctness as weapons to deal with our issues with those who cause us no harm, but make us feel uncomfortable because they are different. Let us remember that we all want our own way, that we all will have issues to battle, feelings to overcome. “All have sinned and fallen short”. “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone”. Love the sinner even while you detest the sin, and enable each other to overcome.

Imperfect Wills.
What of those who celebrate their difference, who form a culture of it? We don’t want a thief to revel in his dishonesty but to repent and turn from that life style, because he has a choice, of whether or not he thrives on others' misfortune. Special Olympics celebrate the abilities of those with special needs on an equal playing field, not their problems. But Gay Pride celebrates their sexuality, their difference from the norm. Why do people choose to limit their identity to one aspect of themselves anyhow? We are more than any box we choose to put ourselves or others into, whether its sexual preference, job or however we identify with a label. I don’t believe any gay person was ever glad they were different when they first suspected they were attracted to the same sex, but rather fought against it. If they came to terms with it, it was because they thought there was no choice if they wanted to find happiness, and they numbed their conscience. No heterosexual person was ever glad to find themselves in love with a married person. But there is a choice for both. Take the forbidden fruit and the consequences, or turn your back on temptation and walk away from it. Take yourself out of the fire, or you will get burned.
No-one has to remain a victim of their circumstances, help is available to strengthen you to withstand, to understand. Read “Pursuing Sexual Wholeness” by Andrew Comiskey,[IBSN1-85424-115X] if you don’t believe that. If you do fall, get up, move away from the danger zone and try again. But don’t celebrate the fact that you’re a sinner, unless you want to spit in the face of God and give honour to Satan.

"What Choice Do We Have?"

2006-08-14T23:01:00.000+01:00

Do we accept illness and death,
Do we accept the thief in our midst,
Stealing the days we thought were ours for sure,
Pulling on that veil of mist?
Aware only of confusion and loss,
Direction is sorely missed.

So do we pray to be passed over
By the shadow of death when it comes?
Or praying for forgiveness, totally bereft,
Lay ourselves down, Your will to be done?
With Your peace and acceptance, we can endure
Till the moment You call us home.

Kittie Carr

Prayer in the Face of Death.

2006-08-14T22:46:00.000+01:00

Death has been all around from this last week – In the news a young golfer’s wife joined my dear caustic friend twice her age who both suffered for the second time from the same cause, breast cancer. The son of a dear friend who fought a tumour and eventually lost the battle to cling to life and a very independent elderly lady who coped with a large disfiguring growth on the side of her neck for decades, but died having developed dementia in her final years. A mother and a wife of friends are both waiting to shrug off this mortal coil, both cancer victims, time almost up.
I remember fervent prayers being said for another young man with a brain tumour some years ago, who survived with a reminder of how close he had come, and I wonder did the call to prayer come from our desire for healing, from our love for this family, or from God’s call on our hearts to use this person to demonstrate His power. Not everyone is healed, not even Jesus did a blanket “one size fits all,” but picked individuals except in the case of the group of ten lepers, where only one came back to thank Him, and that obviously was to show us just how ungrateful we can be, how blessings are so easily forgotten, taken for granted. However, later Peter seemed to do even more, even his shadow was thought to heal people...and the Bible did state that those coming after would do even greater exploits...
I know I have felt led to pray for some for a period, so they are given more time, time to make their peace with God and man, and then the call leaves, and they relapse and are released into eternal rest. Should I feel blame because I have slacked on the job? There is no point praying when you sense your desire is out of God’s will – while He regrets sickness and death, it is inevitable in this fallen world corrupted by man’s putting his own way before God’s. We have to trust His promise that He will bring good out of evil, He who demonstrated His love through suffering. We all have our allotted span, and although our fervency and motives may cause Him to give more time occasionally, it is not universal – or is it? Miraculous healings are taking place today in countries which suffer persecution for their faith in vast numbers – the sign of God’s power is needed there as a witness to others and encouragement to the afflicted. So our self-reliance, our apathy, our complacency, our lack of expectation all dull the edgy need for demonstration.
Yet in time of trouble, the vast majority of people appreciate prayer –even the Reader’s Digest says its works! Prayer does not have to be a demand to change our circumstances, but to enable us to cope with the inevitable, to help us accept His will, no matter what. Then His kingdom can truly come!

"Joy’s Ladyboys."

2006-08-08T16:45:00.000+01:00

Spot the Ladybirds of cheer
Humping along,
Tightly carrying baggage that encloses
Scurrying everyway but forward.
To and fro
Painted to attract.
Sold to highest bidder,
They come,
Swooping down,
Picking, stripping
And impaling till life is snuffed.
Attracted yet repulsed
The addictive poison
Consumed.
Disease to the consumer,
Death by Consumption.

Kittie Carr

Come into the Light, and Shine

2006-08-08T16:23:00.000+01:00

Shadows Surround

2006-08-08T16:18:00.000+01:00

Framed by Circumstance

2006-08-08T16:12:00.000+01:00

"Swaning Around."

2006-08-08T10:13:00.000+01:00

Gilded swans
Coast ghostly
In the night air.
Haughty yet demure
A question of contradiction.
Beadily watchful
Bending greedily for crumbs
Making do
While truth swims by, unseen.

Ladies of the night.
Painted beauty glowing darkly
But cold glowering hearts
Viciously oust outsiders,
Territorial while they mark their patch.

Daylight reveals their truth
Bedraggled, muck encrusted wings,
Flea infected, lice-ridden to death
They hang their heads, wearily, deflated.

Who will wash them clean again?
Only He who first placed them here;
Wrong choices made, a challenge failed,
Yet they can be renewed, snowy white
If they only release themselves from their captivity
Into His care.

Kittie Carr

"Monumental Movement."

2006-07-30T21:28:00.000+01:00

Grunting, blindly desperately seeking, they force
Their staves underneath the stone.
Impatient impetus impelling, compelling movement,
Slaves to the moment.
The boulder bounds belligerently forward,
Forcing cover on the crime.

Limp body shelved within,
Life’s blood leaked from limbs’ extremities,
Pores poured profusely, holes profoundly holy;
Crown scraped indelibly on brow.
Flow-dried now, heart’s pump seized.
It is finished.

But no, he lies
Here and yet goes even deeper, hot
To confront the snake
And claim his dues;
Lives for a life,
The ultimate sacrifice.

Slinking lies created the hole
Man fell deeply in;
But worms go deeper in the earth,
Recreating themselves from within.

Mothers come to wipe his brow,
To anoint and mummify,
Sealing his fate; but too late,
The rock has rolled.

This most lowly wounded worm of humanity
Has recreated himself; in death defeated has
Revealed himself King of Kings.
Pure message of revelation doubly told,
It bears repetition
To mankind’s deafened ears.

Kittie Carr

"A Lamb’s Prayer."

2006-07-30T21:26:00.000+01:00

Fleece me my Lord
Of what I produce
Through sweat of my brow,
The surface veneer of my produce
Weight carried on my back.
You gave me protection
In the cold place,
I grew thick in the winter season,
Deeply enfolded in the dark.
But now I seek the light;
Enlighten me.

Take it now, that earthly gain…
Shear me close with your Holy Sword
That I might be clean
Of the soft grubby fuzz of this world.
Bleach my gift in the Son,
Impurities tease out,
Weave with shaped beauty, till distinct,
Nakedly sacrificially consumable by you,
I lay down my comfort for selfish icy hearts
That they might move towards freedom of the thaw,
Melting in your warmth.

Kittie Carr

"Take me, Use me."

2006-07-30T21:24:00.000+01:00

Loving Shepherd of your sheep,
I was born your lamb;
Bought with the eternal price of your life
For more than consuming or consumption.

Redeemed for a higher calling
Fitted for service…
I owe you all
So take it – all you have given
I return it gladly with willing heart.

Your heart was torn
So I am shorn.
Take what I produce, what I am
And tease it, weave it.
And as we are bound together
It is your woven gift to hold...
Give it to the cold.

Take my cover, my comfort
Grown in the winter season.
Now I am able, willingly fleeced
In the sunshine of your loving gaze,
Stronger, hotter, on fire for you,
I will choose to give my protection, shriven
For those who nightly shiver.

I will search for a quiverful of fearful and lost
And wrap your blanket of love around them,
Because as I give what is yours
You bountifully return
In greater measure
A greener pasture.

Kittie Carr

"Here I Am."

2006-07-30T21:22:00.000+01:00

Heart beating like a Lambeg Drum
Frantically ranting the fleshly territorial claim,
Leading the battle against change,
Voiced by the goatskin.
But I do not follow the voice of the goat.

My battle is already won,
The Captain of my Host is the One, Jesus,
He is the Shepherd of this sheep.
I choose to follow His rhythm.
He goes before me, showing me the way.
Whatever befalls me, He has done it all before.
I will trust Him as He leads me,
Even though all I see is fecund swamp, hidden in mist;
The Everglades ever-glazing my eye.
I say Aye Lord and step out blindly.

The ground rises to meet me,
Little holy hills, hummocks of discovery
Of His sustaining power and His provision.
And I know as I journey on, following,
If I trust I will not be swamped;
The ground will grow higher as my trust grows
Until I ascend the hill of the Lord
And I see Him face to face.
At one with my Creator.

Kittie Carr