Chris Gribble

Be yourself - Everyone else is taken (Oscar Wilde)

Fallen Giants

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The litter of fallen giants
Nature’s mighty stalwarts
Fallen, broken,
Now,
Shaping the flow
Of the mountain stream
Unseen, except
My craving for peace
My desire
to know the unknowable
Wanting tomorrow’s certainty
Brings me to a place
Where solitude is shaped
By what is broken
I come
Waiting for life
And death to arrive
Waiting among
Millenia of life
Slowly rotting to nothing
Slowly absorbed
Into the earth
Where it began.

I consider
All that has flowed past
This place
Where I am
Unseen, Unknown
A stream and I
Sharing a moment, reflecting
On my life
Shaped by brokenness
The unknown tomorrow
My grasp at eternity
Being shaped
By what is broken
What has died
In me
Knowing
Life quickly passes by
But here now
My life joins to this place
Flowing past me
Dying and then shaping,
Flowing, always flowing.

Alone

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Alone
Because, only I can live this life
A breath inhaled deeply
Borrowed
From the fresh mountain air
Always to be returned
Life
Drawing closer to my essence
Only I can take this breath
Here
Called to face this day
To see its blessings and horrors
Together
But, then always alone
Only I can live my life
Fully
Present to what is loved most
Only I can love this way
Now
Love lies ahead of me
Only I can choose to step forward
Alone.

When the fog rolls in

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This is was a reflection on the how I have felt at times during the past couple of weeks.

But, the beautiful photo taken by April Gribble from our lounge window makes me realise that there’s another side to fog that needs to be seen as well.

When the fog rolls in,
The dull ache in my stomach,
Gnawing at my soul,
That voice speaking,
When I visit a thousand
Small meannesses
This morning,
Saying to myself, Look!
You did it again,
Trusted in the untrustworthy,
Stupid futility,
In a life not fully lived.

Pain visits, my innermost parts
Over and over, loudly,
Saying, failed.

I wish to rise above this
To look out on the beauty,
Of morning’s light,
My ache,
Welcoming the fog rolling in,
Knowing that light is there
Seeking me,
Hope, slowly arrives,
Not in a rush,
But in the faithful acts,
True to my ache
The kindness
Needed for today.

Walk

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How do you take that first step
Towards nothing
With only faith
To guide
And, give the strength
To wake
From my sleep
Eyes opened
No more dreaming
About a different reality
Choosing to walk this path
With its unknowns
There is no practice life
No rewind button
Just this one
To live
Today.

John two – True Worship

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Worship needs a sacred space,
Uncrowded by life’s demands,
Holiness’ intolerance is expressed,
When – what is created for worship,
Is lost to our selfish choices,
Precious time in God’s presence,
Sacrificed for a minute’s hollow prayer,
The cost of my heart’s love,
Measured by a few dollars,
The cheapest price found and paid.

When superficial sacrifices ,
Are looked closely in the eye,
By incarnation’s fullest expression of hope,
Then all hell breaks loose,
As restoration begins his holy work.

The lash’s countless blows,
Energised by unbridled love,
Are reminders of the many idols,
That gather in the empty spaces,
Created by life lived half heartedly,
Missing the truth of forgiveness,
Grasping at prides unsteady support,
Mouthing easily spoken platitudes,
That quickly replace grace’s heart,
Meaningless phrases flow freely,
From the deceitful selfish tongue,

Passion ignited by ownership,
Rises up within me,
When my Father’s house,
Is treated with this contempt,
My emotions meeting my actions,
Discovering the Christ living in me,
Setting alive my passionate core,
Anger that boils up inside,
Is set free against all unholiness,
The deceitful heart of arrogance,
Is about to meet his match,
Watch closely and see what rises up.

When I meet this Christ today,
We stand together in the resurrection hope,
Remembering now what was important,
Eternity shedding light on every action,
The uncertainty of where I belong,
Made certain by the promise to rebuild,
A moment in time on which history pivots,
Finds me in the company of justice in acton,
Sharing life with the one who always knew,
Inviting me to a place where I belong.

John 3 – You must be born again

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John 3:17 (The Voice)

17 Here’s the point. God didn’t send His Son into the world to judge it; instead, He is here to rescue a world headed toward certain destruction.

This conversation’s conclusion

How will I be surprised today?
,
That doesn’t point a finger,
Inviting light to every question,
Condemnation is put aside,
For the sake of Eternity’s love,
Confusion is dissipated,
Because, love brings clarity,
Religious judgement is forgotten,
When Eternal truth is celebrated.

My heart runs to God today,
After my questions,
Asked from last night’s sleeplessness,
That unknowing darkness,
My life will be transformed by celebration,
My Father’s gifts cannot be denied,
They are as obvious as my sins,
Restoration is doing his work,
Bringing truth’s light,
To my tired, worn out soul,
That desires a new beginning,
Impossible meets her match,
Hope is birthed fresh its old soul.

 

The Secret – Loaves and Fishes – John 6

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Impossible -(1-26)

Too big a problem – overwhelmed
Too many people – a huge crowd 5000 people.
Too little resources – not enough money
A seed of faith – one boy giving what he had.
Joined with obedience – the crowd sat down
God turns up – Everyone ate
Abundance – twelve baskets left over
Understanding – Is still coming

Searching for? (27-59)

Desire meets the uncomfortable truth,
Searching for…. Something,
Not understanding,
But, ravenous,
Wanting to be filled,
Always hungry again.

The answer,
Is eating,
The uncomfortable truth,
It’s not expected,
Or, wanted
But, it satisfies hunger.

The answer found,
In the ordinary,
Acts of love,
Filling,
Our deep ache,
Our spirit joining with Eternity.

Eat now,
The eternal flesh,
Life sustained,
Forever,
Heaven and earth meet,
Eternity’s gift found – Today.

 

Today I am going to start …

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Today I am going to start living
As only I can live,
I am going to walk in the bush
Listen lovingly to friends,
Take time to hear the birds sing
Love my wife
Be present for my children,
And, wonder at this precious gift
Of life and dreams and time,
Just today, is all I have,
Today I am going to live.

Sign One – Transformation

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Where does amazing start?
The sign, a miracle, arriving
Love waiting to care, his heartache
Here from the beginning
Needed since we listened to
and believed a lie and death came.
Celebration, waiting for life,
The right moment coming
A miracle beginning, here.
No one expected it to be now
This perfect time
and it nearly was missed
By everyone – except a mother
Who listened and obeyed.

So, now the best waited
For eternity to begin creating
Who knew, Who’d a thought
That it would be at a wedding
In a tiny village, Cana of all places!
Gathered to celebrate, not realising
The groom was not invited
But, here he is, creating,
One person listened, she knew,
Here is the beginning of hope,
The sign is among us, She says,
watch, listen and follow.

What did the water know?
Transformation into wine
Isn’t easy, first crushed
Then the outpoured juice
Waits, for the transformation.
And, thankfully it came
Disaster averted, for now,
Because, the best was coming,
When bruised and broken,
The sign of hope, is crushed
Disaster crowded in loudly,
Sleepless nights, not knowing
resurrection was arriving,
Waiting for the right time
Calling to believe and follow
Transforming, now.

Letting Go

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Even love when
Held too close
Can tear
Painfully
Starting
At the seams.
The frayed edges
Showing the beginning
Starting to end
That painful leaving
Of what was hoped for
Changing
What remains.

The lesser gods
That beckon me
To lower my hope
Call out
Their plaintive cries
Selfish demands
Clutching
At disappointment
Surrounding me
With fog
Dimming everything
The horizon
Coming too close.

Desire holds onto
Anxious
Gathering of straw
Filled dreams
My heart
Seeks to let go
Of emptiness
And hold tightly
To hope.

I wish
No!
I choose
To let go
Of everything
That refuses
To be here now.

Sign Two – Healing and Trust

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Truth sometimes is a sideways
path that isn’t clear,
Pointing me to an unexpected way
But, sometimes what is here now,
Is the truth that is most important.
When I need to trust the most
Is when I need to simply obey,
Trust is about giving – My enough
is saying I need a miracle, today,
Because, I don’t trust enough
I know this much is true.
I come to the flesh, seeking
to trust, but not loving its cost
When I am told to go home
All my love wants a different way
Not this path, I want to say
But, I don’t speak what I feel,
I trust, I go home
Allowing the miracle to happen
In that moment, transformation.

 

 

Sign Three – Do you want healing?

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Compassion forgotten by religion
Finds a man by a pool – paralysed
Healing is a long way away, over there,
Just a few steps but impossible
Seen by eyes that should know better
Bile rises up, seeing the misery of suffering.
Left by religion, holy days that don’t love,
Empty, hollow, shadows of love’s intent,
Religion that has forgotten its need of grace
Is disarmed by compassion’s voice, and
a question, “Do you want healing”.

Fearless love spoken, where it’s needed,
Where pain is gathered and love forgotten
Holy’s shadow, contained in a single day
That doesn’t love or care or know grace
This shadow avoiding life, speaking hate
Shrinks to shrill accusations – anxious
about its future, holy days with no hope
Are about to die – their end in sight
Because, this man wants to be healed
A stirring, seeking healing and grace,
I want to be healed too.

Do we really want to know healing?
Or is there more condemnation
waiting to be spoken, choosing death
When freedom is right there, ready
to be embraced, if we want to be healed
Why not pick up our mat? Or rise up?
Good news that is not welcomed
Finds its way into useless debate,
Over what is really holy – forgetting joy
Worship celebrates hope, not darkness
It loves to dance and sing and laugh,
It doesn’t sit by the pool, no,
It rises up and becomes the temple,
Whole and strong and rebuilt, resurrection
rising up within me, healing right here.

Sign Four – Loaves and Fishes

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Impossible is where the loaves and fishes
become faith’s first tentative steps,
Overwhelmed by expectations
Daunted by the hum of the crowd
Their hunger growing by the minute,
Expecting a word,
Hope, and its signs,
The Voice, present, here now
Walking up the mountain, to listen.

Eternity, speaking to us again,
The longing to follow
Speaking to my heart,
Until hunger reminds me where I am.

Quiet, stop, be here now
Listen to the demands of hunger
Its grinding
Deep inside
Telling me something is missing,
I want to be fed
Knowing that I will be hungry tomorrow.

Impossible is looking at loaves and fishes
Believing that they are not enough
Not nearly enough,
I resist sitting, I want action,
Struggling with waiting with not enough
Faith is blessed, five loaves, two fish,
That is enough,
More than enough, it’s abundance,
A sign, given again,
Where is faith now?
Not with the sign,
No, he is alone, listening,
Inviting me to leave the crowd too,
To listen, to see the impossible,
To feel the hunger, but be thankful,
Nothing is wasted.

 

Goodbye

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The night I said goodbye
To my first born son
Showed me
There aren’t enough tears
To ever properly say
Goodbye.
You hold and sob
And, wonder at this pain
That wakes
In the early morning
Day after day
Grief
That will never be explained.

When sadness first visited
I thought
I will never feel this again,
Pain ripping deeply,
Lightning can’t strike twice?
But, it keeps coming
Knocking at my heart
Life’s call on me, questioning,
Will I choose to love?
Facing its beauty and terror
Compassion’s call to care
Touching my inner parts
I become vulnerable to trust,
Only to break again and again
Saying goodbye with tears.

Time doesn’t change
How much each goodbye
has cost,
What is deeply held,
Doesn’t leave easily
It reaches back at me
Asking me to stay.
My heart cries, and,
I want to be back there
But, I am forced to move on
Life keeps swirling around
With its daily demands.

I cry out of shared pain
Collected in hearts
A gathering of love,
Intimate in a broken moment
Belonging to only us,
Wondering about how to trust,
Wanting believe again
Fearing its cost.

Waiting

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Last week a number of the Deeper Rhythms team were made redundant. This included myself. We started this whole adventure with a dream of what could be, a lot of hope and an invitation for others to join.

This poem shares something of my experience of our dream, my deep love for what we desired to create and the hope that remains with what our hearts desired to share in this group.

Every humble word written
Sharing
In a poem, an emotion,
Or even a plan,
Reports about activity
Working
For a dream
All parts of
Our hearts joined
Opened for others to see
Believed in
Cherishing
Inviting others to share
Together.

The day the lights dimmed
Invites us to the tomb
Together
Waiting with Lazarus
In the darkness
Wrapped
Still for three days,
Or more
Till life speaks again
Inviting me come
And, leave the tomb
To walk into the light
And, all that is still waiting.

Beauty

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In the midst of disappointment beauty is always there to be discovered. I wrote this as I considered what is wonderful in my life. Beauty is waiting.

Beauty is that thing
That comes
In time
Not rushed
It comes
Slowly
The lines
Becoming wrinkles
Marking the passage, of
time’s well worn path.

Everything
Can become beautiful
If it’s left long enough
Being with
Holding
Admired close up
Seeing
Time’s loving caress,
And, knowing
Waiting patiently
Discovering beauty.

Choices uncover beauty
Dreaming
Of what could be,
Cloud filled desires,
Billowing
In my mind,
Blown here and there
Till, settling
Comes
In a beautiful moment
Arriving, just now.

Renewal

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I could speak of the thousands of words typed,
Adding a few more in my poem, or letter,
Of days that centre on a screen, or
in the broken and joyful conversations,
I am a part of each day, loving deeply,
But, my heart is always drawn to walking,
through the bush, passing by a thousand
untold and unheard stories, Unknown
except I took the time to walk, and stop,
and listen to my heart, deep longings
waiting with me, in the wide spaces, the climb,
huge fallen trees, needing to be climbed over,
broken by rot and natures power,
the close green growth, sometimes its claws
scratching me, when taking an adventurous detour,
the times when I see a path that’s not there,
when it dies out and I keep pushing forward, hoping
that it will begin again, but it doesn’t,
Urgency is pushed back and nothing will change,
Nothing typed, nothing spoken, nothing done,
Except my heart is renewed, mystery is explored,
A few hours taken from life, giving abundant life.

Trust

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For every courageous act
First flutters the wings of doubt
Beating against my weak will,
My lack of faith a closed heart
Trust – Perhaps now
Is your moment to be free
Broken hearted open to live.

Holding my beloved

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Created in my image, awe of the unknown
Begins
With my love trusting in faithful sharing,
First nurtured by his mother’s love, a family
Emerges
With a cry and his first demands, for life
Cradling, tenderly precious love, my gift
Love
Like I didn’t know could be felt, in me
Holding my beloved for the first time.

Seeing my image becoming whole, growing
Tears
My heart aches with longing to protect
His disappointments belong to me too
Courage
Is hoped for as he embraces life, and spirit
Desiring what began with love, love finishes
Seeking
To open my arms to him whenever he comes
Opening my arms to the heavens, today a prayer
This is my Beloved, every part of me loves him.

My kind son – Beloved

An imperfect poem

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I am glad I don’t have all the answers
About how a perfect life should be lived
Too often I fall short, or flat on my face
When seeking to do the impossible.
I am glad I don’t have the burden of perfection
Falling flat on my face with amazing frequency
My apologies are well rehearsed admissions
that I live life with passion. And, careful words
are not always the first that I speak.
I am glad when running I look like a penguin
Or, I would just be another proud champion
Like many others that burn bright for an instant
Then quickly fade into an abyss of oblivion
I run slowly so this will never be my problem.

I don’t delight in the failures of others
Preferring to see the good that will be
Compassion makes abundant room for hope.

I love the joy of surprise when love comes
Often in unexpected ways. Usually its in
a friend who doesn’t have all the answers
It’s that imperfect friend where love flourishes
There are no perfect moments for a kind word
Waiting, but never speaking and missing the mark
Losing the gift waiting for each of us, unsaid,
Lost because of the search for perfection.

I feel glad when I see a perfect sunrise
The completion of another day arriving
Reminders of the beauty simply contained
Scratches and marks in my walls at home
Showing the tracks of where children have grown
Now getting ready to leave, their imperfect
childhood preparing them for uncertainty ahead
I love when a poem doesn’t look quite perfect
Struggling to know where to end wisely
Settling with enough said about my today
My scattered words expressing my heart’s joy
Thinking to myself, this is how happiness arrives.

Sunrise at Picnic Point Toowoomba