Sounds

I love the sound of trains.

We don't live close to a railway line, but a few kilometers away there is a train track that works every so often. While I am often sitting at my computer, I hear the sound of the wheels and the horn - which happens when the wind is pushing in just the right direction.

It is a strange thing, this train sound. 

I don't travel on trains, but I have a sense of the sound of trains.

it reminds me of my grandparents house - they lived next door to the train track and we would go to them on Sunday afternoons, for a Sunday lunch.
We would sit in the kitchen around a big table (they did not have a dining room) and we would eat burnt custard and jelly and then the train would pass by. And no one would hear it, but we would all hear it, unconsciously. 

And then there is the most scrumptious memory that I have of train tracks and sounds. The sound of England, is the sound of a train. England was the very first place I ever traveled on a train and I loved it. I have been to the U.K. so many times that I guess now, trains are a part of the memories.
The easiness of train traveling and the exciting feeling of passing between county's while the greenery rushes by, shoo what a spirit - satisfying memory.

I am learning something about memories these days. Sometimes people dwell only on the negative memories. They are besotted with the hurting, painful, woe is me type memories that seem to follow some around. But I have learned about the redemption of memories. While I may not have had a close relationship with my paternal grandparents, I still have wonderful memories of those Sunday lunches and my memories have been redeemed. 
We are called to stand and enjoy our memories and to allow the light of our memories to shine forth through Yeshua's Mighty Hand.
 
While I may not understand my love of train sounds, I ultimately enjoy this sound and when I can, I stop and listen to the sound of the horn and the rushing steel. As a poet I find that many of my poems feature trains or even centre around train stories. I love this!
One final memory of my train journey - a few years ago my husband and I took a trip on one of the last remaining stream trains around. Within 20 minutes I was sound asleep, although the train ride was suppose to a be a scenic trip through lakes and groves. I can honestly say - there is no sleep for me, like a lulling train riding sleep!
So for now I am enjoying the sound until the next train ride and God is redeeming my memories and filling them with joy that is indescribable!

 

Sabbath Prayer by Marty Goetz

Lucy and Aslan

Misty Edwards, Strings (Lyrics)

I am from.....

I am from the dusty sands of the Kalahari, where the wild horses run wild and free.

Where the sands hit their hooves and their manes glisten with the sun, they run together – wild and free.

I am from the African plain of lakes and valleys unfound, unnamed and untamed.

I am from the place where the vastly different oceans meet, where the under currents are fearful at the place where their hands meet.

I am from the place where the animals run wild, while somewhere on the horizon lies a sleepy sun.

I am from the place where strength meets fragility, where people’s faces, both young and old tell of broken, fragmented stories of hatred and brutality.

I sojourn here on African soil; I am an offshoot of the olive tree whose roots run deep, the branches stained red with the blood of Messiah.

I hear a sound growing louder, I hear the sound of footsteps, I hear singing – I hear them, I see them, I feel them.

I am from this tribe, my skin is muddied red with the soil of Africa, with the blood – bought, blood redeemed soil of the land.

I am from the tribe of African women who are arising, I seem them, I feel them, I know them. They walk across the burned lands of devastation where evil once plundered, they walk claiming victory. Walking unafraid, unashamed – they carry on their shoulders, on their backs and in their hands the sons and daughters of tomorrow. They wipe away every tear, the tears of yesterday’s years of fear.

I was birthed beneath the African sun and here I run, wild and free, untamed and unashamed. I am from this tribe of African women who are sensing destiny in the calling, who sense love in the face of brutality. This is where I am from; I am an olive branch sojourning beneath the African sun.

Chag Sameach Sukkot!

Happy Happy Sukkot! This time of year is one of my favourites. I just love Sukkot - it speaks to me so deeply about the Marriage supper of the Lamb!
May you be blessed and may your name be written in the Lambs book of life! Chag Sameach!
(Our Table for our Feast - a small tingling of our eternal hope that we will purify ourselves so as to rejoice one day with our Bridegroom and our King!)

My SheLoves Contribution

My SheLoves magazine contribution this month!

Click the Link!

 

I am Woman