The road to Emmaus/Kidderminster

They'd had hope, the possibility of a life lived purposefully
they had believed in this hope, welcomed the ray of light
walked towards it, reached out with a new certainty and boldness
At last - a real, life changing, life affirming reality.

It was Jesus who had given them this hope.

But now - now, he'd gone.  It was earth shatteringly over.
An end to hope, the recommencement of broken dreams
scattered at their feet.

Living fire, vibrant, bright - turned to ash, ash that simply disintegrates when touched, insubstantial, dirty, end product of powerful life force...trampled into nothing.

And the stranger they walked with drew these words from them "we had hoped"

And God, today I recognise that for "I had hoped" as well.  I had hoped for better, for affirmation, for a sense of being raised above the detritus of the searing, tearing loss.  I had hoped for a new song of glorious anticipation but my heart is a fragile thing and easily hurt.

And so I walk alongside the ones on that road to Emmaus,  I hang my head and feel each weary step along that dry and dusty path.

I need you to join me, to re-join me as in putting me back together.  I need you to speak and to explain, to share the resurrection with me. I need you to take the bread and bless it - my resurrection and my life - their hearts were lifted and their hopes renewed.  I need fresh hope today.  I need your words of redeeming Grace for I like them, had hoped..........

When our hope is in you it is solid and dependable and yet Lord this world knocks us, often from the most unexpected sources.  Even as we are scrambling to our feet, even as we are still on our knees and reaching for a way to haul ourselves back to a standing position life kicks us.  A word, a gesture, one blow too many and we reel.  We reel even as we mock ourselves, even as we employ well used defences, even as we hide behind our laughter there is an element of despair, an "I told you so" resounding in our heart.  There are "a million little deaths."

We forget that we are the apple of your eye, we lose sight of the fact that you call us a royal priesthood, a holy nation, dearly loved children.  We forget it all as that black dog of depression squeezes our heart.

God I need an Easter Sunday!  I need an Emmaus Road!  I cry out for another Pentecost!

Open my eyes to see you as you are and who I am in you.  Renew my hope, my strength and teach me to be kind to me.  

Lord "I had hoped"

Karen Holmes
22nd April 2014

God dreamed me up in His heart.

God dreamed me up in His heart you know
Well that's what I read today.
It made me feel sort of warm inside
And I wondered if that was the way
That God created all of us
By dreaming us up in His heart
What a great imagination!
However would you start
To dream up a whole, new person?
To make them entirely unique
To decide on their height and the colour of their eyes
And the way that they'd laugh or speak

God dreamed me up in His heart you know
He decided I'd simply be me
He must have thought that there was a gap
for a Karen, a vacancy.
He put each part of me altogether
With a generous helping of fun
And he added some serious thinking as well
To complete that which He had begun.
And He does it so many times over
Creating us all perfectly
We are none of us here by accident 
We were dreamed of and made beautifully.

Karen Holmes
March 15th 2014

The written word.

I wish that you could see how much I mean each word I write
If only you could witness my joy, my great delight
In putting pen to paper, in sharing thoughts with you
telling you all my hopes and dreams, the things I long to do.
I wish that you could feel my peace in sharing little fears
the feeling that I'm not alone, the safety through the years
Of having one who knows it all yet never fails to care
A knowledge that each secret's safe, yet someone's now aware
of fragile strength and fearful hope and certainty oft doubted
And often known by just a look, not spoken, never shouted

I wish that you could feel the smiles, the echo of my laughter
For I'm not sure that they remain once posted, and then after
the journey from my home to yours, the waiting to be read
I don't know if they come to life or turn to dust instead.
I don't know if my letter's reach you, all intact and full of fun
But rest assured that's how they started, how each one begun

The writing flowed, the thoughts all crowding, coming fast and pushing, shoving, wanting to be heard, and felt and known by you.......
by you, the one I write to most
who reads the letters that I post.

Karen Holmes
March 12th 2014

A Day out with Wellies!

A true(ish) story!

Helen and Christine went out for a wander

They thought that they'd visit the ducks over yonder

There'd been lots or rain and the ground turned to mud

But they were determined to go, if they could.

So Helen decided her wellies she'd need

So the mud wouldn't thwart them, the ducks they could feed

She got out her thick socks for cozy, warm toes

For wellies let chills in (as everyone knows)

Now Alfie (the dog) kept an eye on proceedings

Whilst Taylor (the cat) feared where this might be leading

When human's go out, they're not there to serve

in the way that all felines demand and deserve.

Helen pulled on her wellies and waved them goodbye

Alfie and Taylor gave a deep, heartfelt sigh.

Helen met up with Chris and they chatted at ease

Set free by her wellies Helen felt really pleased

She could wander through puddles and trample through mud

The ducks thought that they'd get some too if they could!

But the ducks also witnessed the best fun of all

And always with laughter this day they'll recall!

The moment when Helen decided that she

Would remove muddy wellies then go home for tea,

There was no room for movement, the welly was stuck!

And finally Christine came over to look

Well they pulled and they struggled the boot to get free

It almost became a full emergency!

They feared they'd need professional aid

But finally, happily progress was made

The wellington story will always bring laughter

Today and tomorrow - and many years after

Whenever it's muddy or starting to rain

We'll think of poor Helen and her wellies again!

Karen Holmes

January 12th 2014

God of Real things.

Based on a true story :-)

I knocked my nativity set over
It had been neatly set out and displayed
I bought it a number of years ago
So it's a little bit old I'm afraid

But, each year I remove all the wrapping
And I take out each small wooden shape
The stable doors are opened
And a nice little scene I create

There's a star on the top - it slots into the roof
But each year there's a little less straw
I felt sad when I knocked it all flying
And Joseph fell onto the floor.

Two of the wise men fell over
Though the other remained on his knees
As he offered a gift to the baby
and the donkey looked on, none too pleased.

Yet Mary seemed quite unaffected
And that's how she's often portrayed
Incredibly calm and collected
In clean, uncreased clothing arrayed.

The reality though would be different
With noises and smells all around
and numerous people milling about
in a strange, unfamiliar town.

Mary would surely be tired
And Joseph a little concerned
by the angels and wisemen and shepherds
and the strange revelations they'd learned.

In all of that chaos, a baby cries
God in human form
In amidst the discomfort and disarray
Our Saviour, our King was born.

And it's often in our darkest times
That God is really found
When we're frightened or we're struggling
When there's no-one else around

He steps into our chaos
Our disrupted lives, our mess
He's there right in the midst of it
To ease our pain, our stress

Let's not pack Jesus away again
When Christmas has passed by
You can't wrap him up and hide him
No matter how hard you try.

He's a real God, for real life
For whatever you're going through
And He wants you to believe in Him
He wants to be real to you.

Karen Holmes
21 December 2013

The Ghost of the snowmen

This is a poem written for the Penny Black which I frequent regularly.  They have had problems during this year with the plumbing and water pouring through the ceiling - here is the real explanation.

Twas the night before Christmas at the Penny Black
Two snowmen and penguins dropped in for a chat
They stood at the bar and gulped down some beer
They seemed in fine spirits and full of good cheer
There was mischief afoot though, a glint in their eyes
For they planned misadventure, an awful surprise!

Now those of the bar staff who worked Christmas eve
Had lost faith in Santa and scarcely believed
But still they had hoped that peace would prevail
They'd checked all the food - all was fresh, nothing stale
They'd had a new carpet for the mad, festive season
And felt quietly confident - not without reason

But the penguins and snowmen had wicked intent
They drank at the bar and then upstairs they went
They'd sneaked in some baileys and a bottle of sherry
And slowly, but noisily got rather merry
They sang Christmas songs at the top of their voices
(some customers left when they missed out their choices!)
The snowmen and penguins got drunker than lords
And threats of a ban were completely ignored.

The staff were so shocked as they showed them the door
They'd never had penguins behave badly before!
Then suddenly getting quite red in the face
The penguins all shouted "it's too hot in this place
Can't you turn down the heating? we're feeling quite ill"
Then they left and went dancing round Sir Rowland Hill!

But strangely the snowmen had quite disappeared
No-one could explain it, though all thought it weird.
The truth of the mystery is easy to tell
The snowmen got warmer and didn't feel well
They started to melt and they dripped on the floor
And the ghost of the snowmen remains evermore!

For once in a while, the ghost haunts the pub
It drips through the ceiling on customer's grub!
The staff blame the plumbing and say there's a leak
for of penguins and snowmen they're frightened to speak!
And, each night before Christmas by old Rowland Hill
The penguins still gather and remember them still
Then they glance towards Pennies, with a glint in their eye
As with two little drips, the snowmen say "hi"

Karen Holmes
14 December 2013

A Glimpse of Your Glory - The Transfiguration Luke ch 9 v 32

Have I fallen asleep on the job Lord?
Have I wasted a moment or two?
Do I take a day off when it suits me?
Have I lost my excitement for You?

Have I lost my initial enthusiasm?
Is my passion beginning to flag?
Am I finding it hard to keep going?
Is it all just a bit of a drag?

Have I grabbed forty winks on occasions?
Have I slept when I should be alert?
Have I grown just a little complacement
And persuaded myself it won't hurt?

Your disciples were sleepy one day as You prayed
They'd been very busy, they'd stood quite amazed
As people were healed, from bondage released
They'd heard your great teaching, seen stormy winds cease
The dead had been raised! The hungry were fed!
They'd gathered the baskets of left over bread.

But now they were tired and weary
Their thoughts probably drifted away
They went up the mountain with You Lord
And relaxed as You started to pray
Then somehow they kept their eyes open
And we're told in this wonderful story
That when they were fully awake
They saw You in all of Your Glory!

Don't let me waste precious moments
Nudge me and keep me awake
Challenge me out of complacency 
I don't want to make the mistake
Of missing a glimpse of Your Glory
Or a fragment of heaven's delight
Which could fan into life the flame of my faith
And cause it to burn again bright.

Keep me watchful, awake and alert God for You
Anticipating all of the great things You'll do
Fill me with excitement, a yearning to see
The power of Your Spirit, at work Lord in me.

Karen Holmes
18th June 2007