Channel Swimmer

You stand on the edge
waves lapping at your ready feet.

In your gut emotions wage war
provoked by whispers of darkness, sharks
and endless miles of open water.

Yet, out there is the siren call… of land
and other less solid surfaces.

Just offshore, bobbing
in a liquid trail of moonlight
the support boat waits.

You raise your hand
tighten the strap of your goggles,
and step into the water.

Lesley-Anne Evans
29/07/2008

Leg Hold

He kicks the ruler once, hard
It skids across the linoleum and
connects with Connor's foot
Resentment stuffed deep
fists shoved in pockets
he shoulder slams Connor
into a locker door
then shuffles his untied DC's
on past him to Room 105

It is only 9:15

Walls and expectations
might hold him
'til 3

Lesley-Anne Evans
07/03/08

Hawk

Treetop sojourner --
feather’s ruffled against the early morning chill.

Expectant sentinel
over earthly offerings that scurry in frosted stubble.

I wait

and watch

as hunger takes flight.

Deadly beauty circles heavy over me and
life ends…
within a sweep of un-gleaned grain.

Lesley-Anne Evans
06/02/2009

Things I saw while not looking…

A lone robin -- Spring’s ambassador --
hopping tentatively over the tired snow.

Redwing blackbirds calling in raucous warbles
from hidden perches in the frozen marsh.

Three tundra swans banking wide white circles
in the valley below us, on our way home from school.

The sun painting my kitchen a watery yellow
through fingerprinted winter windows.

Lesley-Anne Evans
02/03/2009

You might like me

I long to share things with you
thoughts, feelings, my heart
Yet you choose to talk about the weather
and the son of a long forgotten friend

I’m part of you
I came out of you
Yet you deny the part of me
that I want to give back to you

So, I share in the superficial
join the chatter and fill the dead air
with lifeless words
inside me is me
unspoken, unrealized, unknown

I retreat to my room to my
pen and paper expose,
And wait for the airport farewell
my crocodile tears
the prolonged goodbye
to a cardboard cutout of someone
I want to know better
who smiled and said,
“not today thank you.”


Lesley-Anne Evans, Sept. 2007

Open Water

Dedicated to my friend Art Suke, 1958-2009
















Open Water


Launching at the ‘El.’ is easy,
dry-dock jockey does the work,
lift, drop and go...

Mirages shimmer at the horizon
the sun burning colour from
the bleached blue Okanagan sky.

On the lake it’s 10 degrees cooler.
I cruise south to Okanagan Mountain
no commitments,
no expectations
...alone.

The lake ahead waits like flat glass while
Albertans take their time at brunch --
their loss, my gain.

Peace, open water, silence as
I cut the engine and the boat settles
into dark wash denim liquid.

Well seasoned fisherman, an eagle
flies large circles overhead.
I watch him watching me
...competition for the morning calm.

I fill my thirsty eyes, my mind, my soul
with a deep and quiet gratitude...
a silent prayer to my Creator,

Who watches, and walks with me,
and knows what lies ahead -- all of it --
open water, life
... eternity...

by Lesley-Anne Evans
Oct. 2008

Gulls 2

Gulls 2
by Lesley-Anne Evans, Jan. 2008

Gulls are drifting inland on updrafts from the sea.
Wantonly weightless they float overhead,
calling boldly to me of flight and freedom.

Creature of the middle earth I stand in salt spray, toes
sink in wet sand, thoughts sink deeper.
I lift my face skyward, and consider their foreign tongue.

Then, rusty hinges on the screen door and
you call me from the cottage…
warm voice carried on the wind.

I turn,

my heart welcoming the parameters
of love and life.

Lake Stone

I walk to the edge of the water… only yesterday it was rippled by a soft wind moving the surface and my attention had been drawn to the rhythmic sound of the waves. Today the lake is almost silent. Snow is falling unexpectedly as it’s April and time for Spring. But the falling snow adds to the silence, the hush, and I find myself in a holy place.

My eyes are drawn to the stones along the shore. The water level is low at this time of the year, so the rocks are exposed in a way that they never are in summer when I’m down at the beach more regularly.

The stones along the edge of the lake are rounded, beautifully smooth and round and coloured in tones of red and brown and grey. The water is transparently clear, so every rock on the bottom of the shallows is distinguishable. There too, the colours are similar to those on the shore, yet defined by the water they are darker, more dramatic. They too are rounded and smooth.

As I stand and look down at my feet and around me, I can see that there are millions of rocks, each one different and unique. It reminds me of people… side by side and some touching and each one different and unique. Some rocks are in the shallows, some in the deeper water. Some are in the transitional areas along the lake’s edge where they will sometimes be submerged, sometimes exposed. Some are permanently part of the beach… unless someone picks them up and throws them unexpectedly to a different location. Beach stone to lake stone and back is possible with the help of someone, some child perhaps.

What stone am I God, I wondered. Am I on the beach, warm and dry, or am I submerged in water, wet and cool and defined by colours only the water can provide? Am I a stone in the shallows, or the deep?

I sense that I am an emerging lake stone… in the riparian zone where sometimes I am more of the lake and less of the land, yet sometimes the very opposite. My circumstances still change me, storms can move me, and I appear quite different one day from the next. The parallels are not what I’d like them to be… a rock , stable and fixed.

Then I’m reminded of stones of another kind, and it doesn’t matter their origin or their appearance or even their location, rather it matters their purpose and usefulness for the task. I think of the stones that were lifted from the bed of the Jordon River and placed on piles as a sign, altars of worship to the God that delivers. And I desire that for me. That my life be a living sacrifice, each day laid on the altar with other stones as a sign of what God has done. A simple lake stone, emerging and becoming part of something beautiful and significant and pointing to God.

by Lesley-Anne Evans, April 2009

Dark Lamb

On the morning that you pushed out of
her warm yet constricting comfort;

Did you know --
that you weren’t snow white
pure, and commonly desired?

Did you sense --
the beginning of knowledge in your belly
of things outside commonplace, or
revelations of rebellion?

Did you guess --
as you kicked up your heels
running joyful on your newly dried legs
in stubble not yet promising summer sweet grasses,

that the darkness that set you apart,
might be your complicated saviour?


Lesley-Anne Evans
April 2009

Words

Words

Today
I have grown weary of utterances
both yours and mine
spoken, heard, yet
not sinking in,
words ripple out to
the horizon
... gone...

Yesterday’s words return like echoes across
a darkly organic lake,
alive with possibilities of leaping trout
and pan fried fillets for supper.

Claire at Play

Claire at play

Tousled waves halo your sun blessed face.
Sweetly rumpled, fresh from dreams,
other awakenings yet to come, and

your hands are busy, intently moving cards
this way and that, humming, happy,
oblivious to my thirsty eyes,

so I sit, coffee in hand, bible in lap
torn between morning devotions
and the vision of glory at my feet

while this small solitude is injected with life.



Lesley-Anne Evans
18/08/2008

I Saw a Poem

I saw a poem

I saw it clearly as I let my eyes linger --
something there
just beyond the obvious

and, like a trout hovering while the fly is cast and
insistently played upon the surface of the pond,
I felt it drawing me

words forming on my silent lips
as God spoke poem into existence
and I, taking the barb-less hook

swallowed deeply.

Lesley-Anne Evans
07/04/2009

Nightfall

A dog barks in the distance
carried on the still warm evening
breeze through my open window

the leaves of the katsura whisper
of water over stones
and thoughts washed clean

I lounge in cotton sheets
while indigo darkness absorbs
twinkling lives of distant neighbours

careful

hush now

and you will hear…

waves embracing shoreline
and the stirring of gentler things

Inspiration of the garden…

Winged Joy

I heard you --
calling out from the top most branches
of the transplanted maple that was
driven four hours over mountains
and dug into the bed of my back yard.

Perching there --
you surveyed all things around you;
children splashing in the neighbour's pool,
orchard trees fresh sprayed with dormant oil,
lawn mown and edged and irrigated,

and me --
dozing in the late day sun,
book open in my lap, a brief
escape from earthbound thoughts.

You roused me --
and I saw your winged song take flight…
and then recalled that joy
is often found
on wings.

Red cedar in Spring

It begins almost imperceptibly,
faint tremor of evergreen fronds, quivering,
stirred awake by the promise of a breeze.

Anticipation, expectation of what is to come.
Primeval language, from deep root to leaf tip,
speaks of warm wind whispers and old growth sway.


Lesley-Anne Evans
07/03/08

The spirituality of choice…

I just found an amazing blog called Conversion Diary… it's quite unique… all about an Atheist who found God… she's now a converted Catholic, and writes about her life and her faith and how the two intertwine. I like what she has to say.

Today's blog was all about discernment… a word that's flung around in the evangelical church without a lot of discussion or understanding on my part (and maybe on yours too?). I now have a little more of a window into what discernment might be… and how I might take some steps to incorporating this spiritual habit into my decision making process.

My newly expanded understanding of discernment is this;

The idea comes first. Before any decision is ever considered, there's the idea. So I must ask…

What is niggling away at me… what thought, what idea, what unique and/or odd thing is coming to mind again and again… could this be the Holy Spirit's nudge… or as Jennifer says, is The Finger of God pointing me in a certain way? Do I have peace about my action or inaction on this?

Then I am faced with a decision to make. So I must ask…

How will this particular decision effect my primary calling or vocation in life? This involves knowing what my primary vocation is… do I know that? Figure it out… is it being a Godly wife and mother… is it being Godly writer… is it being a Godly care-giver to my ailing parents? I believe in first things first, in their appropriate season. Carefully think this through… then carefully consider what is holding you back… are these surmountable reasons?

Keep your eyes open for confirmation that you are heading in the right direction… often this comes in the form of words that others say to you, especially those wise individuals whom you ask for input (spouses, mentors, spiritual friends) or a series of events that appear uncanny in their significance, or God speaking in various ways through scripture, worship music, nature etc.

Keep in mind that you can't possibly know what God has in mind for the future… as Jennifer says, you don't have a crystal ball. So, proceed, in peace, knowing that God is in control of the details and you are not.

And then, close your eyes and prayerfully let God lead you… with fear, with doubts, with unknowns… trust that when he is up to something, he will be enough for you no matter what. He will provide, he will support, he will catch you when you fall. Ask him to lead you. Tell him you trust him. Thank him for being in control.

Choose.

The duck in my pool

So, why do I have two blogs… and what is the difference between them? Maybe I'm off base here, but I really do think these two places allow different parts of me to emerge. While there's this deeper more spiritual side of me, and while I believe with all my heart that God is the foundation of, the purpose for, the captain of my life ship, there's also a part of me that is separate… gosh… does that sound anti-Christian?

I've found myself surfing some Christian Women's sites of late, and I have to say that while I admire them, while I learn by reading them, this other separate part of me says, but what about the times when I don't relate… the times I question… the times of darkness and I feel separation from a real close connection with God??? What about those? I don't know, but I feel these times are sort of glossed over by some Christians and painted into a pretty picture most of the time. I just don't want to, I've grow tired of, spiritualizing absolutely everything in my life… and thinking that if I just pray the right thing, say the right thing, read the right scripture, that this too will pass.

Yep, it will pass, for sure it will… I trust in God that it will . But, I want to be alive and fully aware of how I am feeling, thinking, acting, observing RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of these other times. Somehow… I think that I'd be less than forthright or a shadow of myself if I just glossed over these places in my life that are a little off-kilter, or off the beaten path. They are who I am too. God didn't say only focus on the mountaintops, or on the spiritual highlights… did he?

So, I'm still working through what this means in my life… and obviously, but the very fact that I currently have two different blogs… one focussed on the good and Godly, and one focussed on the real means I'm a little bi-polar in my approach and not yet fully willing to be or accept or live what I'm suggesting I should live. But the blogs are linked, not hidden, and neither is this struggle I feel.

Truth be told I'm still a little afraid… of the Christian women knowing this other side of me… the doubting, struggling, slightly profane at times side, and of the other non-religious women - knowing the spiritual side, believing, connecting with God, living my life as an act of worship side! Does that mean I'm more concerned about what these groups of women think than anything else? Is that ridiculous 'need to be liked' the guiding force behind what I do, say and blog? PLEASE NOT THAT! But hey, I'm human like the rest of you… and so that need to be accepted is real. I've certainly come a ways from that being the guiding force, but it's still there, rearing it's ugly little head and so I need to figure out what that means, and how to deal.

So, I hope you can hang on with me through this process of figuring out who I really am and whether I can somehow take these two parts of me -- the Sometimes Suicidal Mama -- and the -- My Gracenotes -- parts of me, and combine them into a relateable whole that brings something to the table that is palateable. And that's gonna take a while and a whole lot of trust in God's plans… not just mine.

Which brings me to the insight that I believe God gave me yesterday… and the reason that I was going to post it on My Gracenotes rather than SSM… yet after 'writing this down' right now, with you, I believe I will post it in both places (how's that for taking a risk)

So, yesterday morning I got up early… I've had times where I regularly do this, but this Spring has not been one of them. Lots of reasons and excuses come to mind. Anyway, I managed to get up with my 5:40 alarm, took a quick shower and then took my bible and notebook out on the porch with me. I read a bit, listened to the sounds of birds in the early morning garden, and then it happened… the duck… darn that duck… dropped from the sky into our pool. The mood and the atmosphere of peace and Godly connection was immediately broken for me.

My dog dropped down into his 'point', quivering with excitement at this visit from the duck (who returns many times during the day, much to our frustration), and I got up and scared Mr. Duck away with waving of arms and clapping of hands. The dog ran around the pool deck sniffing and wagging his tail, as I returned to the porch again to try to regain my quiet time.

I felt ticked off at first… as I sat and watched the dog and realized that it was almost time to wake up the family. And then, I really watched the dog… and recognized something on the verge of profound… at least it was for me at that moment.

Buddy, my dog, was sitting at attention at the corner of the pool, ears perked up, looking at the sky and wagging his tail. It was a funny posture… sitting while wagging… but Buddy has a very small tail and it was wagging excitedly. He did what he always does after a duck encounter… he sits and waits for the duck to come back… excitedly waiting, expectantly waiting, for what he KNOWS is going to happen again. He shows no interest in his breakfast, in me, in anything but the duck's return. And, due to his amazing ears, Buddy always hears the duck while he's a long way off… before I can hear him, Buddy gets to his feet and looks at the sky… and then the duck comes back, splashing into our shallow end.

I'd been reading these verses in my bible yesterday morning that you probably know… the Lord's prayer… and Jesus is telling his disciples how to pray and it says, "Your Kingdom Come," and those particular words attracted me for some reason… as I thought about what it would be like to pray this, and ask God to take over so many ways in my life, and make it about His Kingdom rather than mine. So, I was thinking this just before the duck encounter.

What hit me between the eyes as I watched the whole thing with the duck and the dog was that Buddy illustrated to me what it might be like to have a Kingdom Come heart. If I was able to live the way Buddy illustrated … anticipating, expecting God to show up and focus on that whole-heartedly… wow, might that be a wild way to live. I know God is there… why not look for signs and sounds of his presence? Now, I'm not suggesting I sit and don't eat or do anything, but I'm saying I need to be attentive and watching. And when God shows up, I'll be ready for whatever he's got going on at that particular moment!

Anyway, that picture of the dog's anticipation and joy and the recognition of an application to my life was unexpected and awesome.

Gotta go, I hear quacking in the distance.

Lesley-Anne

So, I guess that makes me old?

I have some admissions to make… first, I feel younger inside than out. Second, I guess I try to appear younger than I am. But the past few days have really hammered home the truth that I'm getting a little long in the tooth. Now that doesn't mean I'm going to start dressing like my mother (bless her heart), nor do I want to chop off my hair or anything that drastic, but maybe I should be a little more realistic with myself?

So, it started last week when I was anticipating some friends dropping over for coffee. I rushed around the house to de-clutter things, hide things, dust and vac. quickly, and then as a final touch I thought I'll just spray some 'Febreeze' on the couch and rugs to have that fresh scent as they first enter the door. (A little background here… these same friends told me on their last visit that my home "smelled funny", and I haven't quite gotten over that yet!)

I went to my bucket of cleaning supplies, reached down, grabbed the 'Febreeze' and started spraying. I moved quickly around the main floor of my home, a quick spray here and there, ending up in living room when I suddenly smelled, not the scent of fresh rain, but BLEACH! And in horror, I looked down to see a bottle of 'Fantastic with Bleach' in my hand. Oh my goodness, I thought, I've ruined everything because of my panic stricken and bruised house-keeper ego! I ran to grab a cloth and frantically rubbed down everywhere I could remember spraying. And, in the end, I was blessed with no white blotches on anything! Wow!

Two days ago I prepared a nice dinner for the family, having picked up some beautiful, fresh, tender asparagas for my husband, who loves it. I washed it, put it in a dish with a little water, then put it in the microwave to steam it. I found it this morning when I opened the microwave door to soften butter for toast!

So, maybe I have too much on my mind? Or, maybe I get distracted by our three kids, one dog, the telephone and the computer and knocks on the front door? Or, maybe, just maybe, I'm getting old?

I remember a story my father-in-law told us about my 70-something mother-in-law. She was searching the house for her glasses which she couldn't find anywhere. She said to him, "Where are my glasses… have you seen them anywhere?" And he replied, "They are on your head, Julie." We laughed and laughed at that story.

And now, I'm just beginning to understand…

Open sea

It’s been a day since the word ‘veer’ was posted at Pink Ink Workshop in the Outrageous Vocabulary forum… and I’ve been thinking hard on that word, chewing on it. I immediately loved it’s meaning, especially the turning toward the course of the sun. I thought what a lovely image that is, with obvious spiritual connotations, but I wasn’t suspecting anything beyond that.

This morning brought feelings of shame in my recognition of a deeper association with this word veer. As I walked and considered veering, and my desire to be on course, I saw myself as a small boat, one who was choosing to sail close to land rather than in the open sea. At first I thought nothing much wrong in this, and then the land forms, islands, began to take on labels of things that I was returning to and circling around and enjoying the waters of. And that’s where the shame crept in.

That’s when I knew my walk would be one of repentance and forgiveness, which interestingly is what repentance is about… a turning from, a veering away from and setting a course toward something else. In my case, the repentant veering was to be about the repetitive patterns of jealousy and envy in my heart that I steered my boat dangerously close to.

As I walked and thought through this ugly reality, I recognized other islands of shame… pride and conceit were also in my archipelago of dishonour. I named it all… out loud. At first I thought that asking for forgiveness was enough, and asking for change. But I realized that for me anyway, I needed to speak it out first… own my lies, own my dirt, and then ask for forgiveness and the supernatural power to veer my small boat of a life toward the course… of the Son.

The walk was good today. I met God there. I was real with him… no masks or excuses today. I saw the instances in my life both long ago and recently where I chose to sail in dangerous waters, close to reefs that could have capsized my boat. Sometimes there was an awareness of where I sailed, other times I just found myself there, with guilt and shame and trying to adjust my sails alone. Sometimes I even moored there for a while.

But today as I worked this all out with God, I realized that the course I want to set for myself is directly into the open sea. I believe the course of the Son is where I am to be. I believe he has so much more for me than were I to remain in the shallows of islands that offer some sort of sick attraction for a time. He has uncharted waters, exciting destinations, and navigational expertise that I can’t even imagine.

I know my boat has a tendency to get off course and that I will continue to veer to correct it. But, I desire to set my compass to true north - and follow that course.

Sheets unfurled, spyglass in hand,

Lesley-Anne

In a London Fog!

Tonight I went on a little date with my husband… just for an hour to escape from the house and get a little face time together. We ended up at Starbucks, and when I looked over the menu I decided on a new drink. A London Fog is new to me… I've heard someone order it before, but had no clue what it was. So, I decided that I was up for a little adventure tonight but needed to know a little more about what I was ordering.

I looked at the 16-something trendy 'barrista' and asked, "What's in a London Fog?" He looked me directly in the eye and said this, "Well, it's earl grey tea, with shots of vanilla, and half water, half steamed milk. And the tea is really cool… it comes in it's own little fabric bag that floats in your cup." I swear to you… that's what he said! He didn't smile, blink or give any indication that he knew that tea ALWAYS comes in little fabric bags that float in your cup. I looked him directly in the eye and said, "Then I'll take a tall London Fog."

Then I sat with my new drink, and marveled at how the fabric bag floated there, and shared a good belly laugh with my husband. And I wondered how many other young employees thought that this new tea thing was "really cool", having no idea that they are living in a bit of a Starbucks induced London Fog of their own!!!

Bottoms up!

Lesley-Anne