JAMARTLONDON - jenny (jennifer) meehan

jenny meehan lyrical abstractiion british,contemporary painting english romantic abstraction. surrey south west london visual artist christian abstract modern painting sacred

Gutted but Grateful

Gutted, but Grateful

 

Gutted, but grateful

All is not, as I thought...

I thought the way ahead was clear

That clarity had shown itself in a facet of the most radiant jewel.

That light, springing from the surface of the rippling waters

danced to a tune I knew,  had seen, and recognised.

 

But,  reality has shown it's face: it did not agree with my expectation.

We can only go on our deepest instincts, even though the waters glimmer,

persistently  singing notes

to a song we were singing,

wholeheartedly.

 

But,  the sun has gone in.

Is that HUGE cloud, the cloud of unknowing?

The mystery we call God,  rather than throwing light on the surface matters of my soul,

appears to have eclipsed the sunlight.

 

So,  I find tears running,

rain drops, tiny runaway ink lines

which  I won't contain.

I will let the disappointment be.

 

I know,  my path has altered, but I don't question the wisdom of it.

I trust my maker.  Most creative.  Most unexpected guest.

"Come then..."

And I say:  "Come on..."

 

I am gutted, but grateful,

maybe because you have given me an opportunity

to trust you a little more.

I had the zeal,  but now you have given me your part

in waiting and praying.

 

Assurance is not easy.

It balances at the point where I realise my journey's end...

The timeless place, where waiting does not exist;  all prayerful souls

lie in peace,

without end.

Some, with minds which have left them  free of reason - Still held in prayer,

Others, with outward form of body,  being taken - Still held in prayer.

All those sisters, lying in the circle,

Circle upon circle - Still being,

Still held in prayer.

What strange vision,  of another layer of existence.

We should never look only ahead,  but beyond our own sight,

into the darkness.

 

When I make my place to meet you;

this glade, this white paper place,  in the scrambling wood matter of my own thought  -

I lay myself down;  Body and mind in wilful  surrender to your Spirit's

moving...

moving in  this place.

Here  alone,  does my soul find  (most gratefully)

that you have better  than I could have imagined.

That  the absence of my expectation

was a kind removal,  on your part

of what did, indeed,

block your radiant and everlasting light.

 

For the joy set before me...

 

Jenny Meehan 2014 September