God, she is an artist

God, she is a seamstress,
We do not always see the hands that hold us,
but sometimes glimpse the stitches.
As she repairs the fabric of our lives and world.
The very fabric of which is a grace from God.

God, she is an artisan ceramicist,
Breathing life into clay,
Forming and shaping fragile pots
With her very hands.
Her fingerprints remain,
where she smoothed down our rough edges.
And placed the light inside, shining through
the cracks she knew would appear.

God, she is a graphic designer,
Bringing something out of nothing:
ideas become concrete
through her words and her hands,
Connecting us perfecting us, making us new,
drawing us near - to one another and Herself.

God, she is an author,
Writing all our stories, redeeming our sub-plots,
swash-buckling our enemies.
Sending a hero, white-charger not withstanding,
And promising to make all things well
before the last page.


(The inspiration for this piece coming variously from Julian of Norwich, Janet Soskice, Jimmy Needham, 2 Corinthians 4, Hebrews 12, Genesis 2 and many other places!)

Dyspraxic

Drawing straight lines, and colouring inside of them always eluded me
Yet creativity flows in my veins, and I got an A* in year 9 art, when we moved beyond drawing lines to big ideas
Skating was challenging, jumps and turns impossible
Personal trainer employed, and much practice didn't change my ability to jump; but
Relationships were my real reason for learning to skate and I made lots of friends
Academically minded I thrive on conversation
Xcept those big ideas sometimes get lost on paper 
IQ in places in the superior range.
Clearly dyspraxic