Free At Last
•16/05/2020 • Leave a Comment
I just saw a lovely pastel sketch of a ‘butterfly’ and woman merged into one mythical creature
The title of the piece declared
Free at last…
We may long to be free of the restrictions being human brings
to feel freedom like the creatures of the air
even on a spiritual level
But before the caterpillar becomes ‘free’
it must first submit to a kind of death
to a death of familiar
death of safe
death of known
death of its old life
its old ways
its perceived power and control
it must submit to the silence and isolation of the cocoon
it must submit perhaps to the unknown…
It must trust instincts inbred
to find
that right place
that right season
to weave a cocoon in the right way
then
entangling oneself within
remain completely vulnerable
and wait
whilst changes of mammoth significance occur
not once questioning or interrupting…
View original post 106 more words
Passion of Christ
•11/04/2020 • Leave a CommentThe world had gone crazy
Nature echoed the aching agony they felt
The storm matched the cry of their hearts
Blackened skies tearing winds
Growling thunder piercing strikes
Turbulent winds ripped at clothing
And drove sand to sting the skin
The Earth lurched at the shock of it all
Soldiers had duties to perform
A base job separating warm dead flesh from metal spikes driven deep into the timbers of a cross
The women waited below watching every move
They had stood a little way off keeping vigil through the whole chilling ordeal
Dried blood caked around the wounds made the job difficult
What little light remained was fading fast
Finally they lowered Him to Loving hands below
The men reached for the body and the women drew near
Together they wrapped Him in grave-clothes and delivered Him to the tomb
Another army worked fast too
Amazing this prize delivered to them
They bound and gagged Him
Tied Him hand and foot
To make sure they doubled up with hefty chains secured with sturdy locks
Didn’t want this one to get away
It all seemed unnecessary
The man stood exhausted, defeated
He did not move but remained, head bowed
Mute, a shadow of His Former Self
It did not stop the prisoners,
They saw it as a cause for celebration
Roughly, some jumped upon His shoulders,
Others struck Him behind His knees
Pushing him to the filthy floor
They fought amongst themselves eager to be next to spit on Him
Fingering the open wounds,
Pressing splinters harder into the shadow of His flesh
So they taunted Him,
Repeating lies and accusations
Returning to the mockery that had filled His ears as He journeyed to the End
A jab, a punch, a kick here and there
Each jibe increased their jubilation
Howls and squeals of demented gloating echoed far into the darkest recesses of the hell in which they stood
No light shone here, no compassion found
No soft voices or forgiveness
Degradation streamed down the walls,
It caked the floor and piled in every corner
Once shackled and completely bound,
They led him further into the Darkness
Past chambers of the lost they paraded Him
To the furthest reaches of Hopelessness
There behind thick dense doors,
They chained Him down, burdened with the World’s Sin
Layer upon layer pinning down this meek Companion of God
Satan roared with the Boast
Him I have ensnared
The World did not hear God’s voice
They did not recognised Messiah
That Hope is dashed now, Shattered, Gone forever
When the last key was turned
The crowd of Dark angels sloped away into dismal shadows
Despair dripped all around
This a world without Light
This a world without God
But then
Something stirred in the darkness,
Something trickled through the cracks
Soft at first, a mere ripple
That grew to a deep throaty gurgled like a stream of living water
It flowed into every dark and dismal ear… Laughter
The Laugh of Victory
The Evil one stopped in his mean tracks
Dread replaced his spiteful joy
He knew that sound, he’d heard it from the beginning of time
This laugh grew in Power and Strength
Each Peal shook those slimy Halls of the Dead
Calling down the Righteousness of God
His Pure Radiance shone
Light flooded the Halls
Banishing darkness
Chains shattered
Walls began to crumple
Heavy doors splintered as Christ the Son of God stepped from the dungeon
He took it all
He walked free
Terror melts in his warmth
Lifting a finger He writes upon the wall
‘Jesus Christ can be found even here
The Way, The Truth and the Life’
The purity of His touch transforms
Never again can any soul be imprisoned beyond His Reach
Satan continues to sell the lie that some are beyond Redemption
Do not believe such falsehood
Christ is Victorious over Death and the Depths of Despair
The Passion of Christ stands as our claim to the Simple Truth
God Loves, Here, Now…
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2010
My interpretation of events following the Crucifixion and prior to the Resurrection
Gospel according to Matthew Chapter 27
Whilst this piece may be a flight of imagination, the final message is Truth.
When Healing Doesn’t Come
•20/01/2020 • Leave a Comment
I enjoy the pure pleasure of running,
The wind in my face,
Workings of muscle, limb and lungs…
Heart pumping exhilaration
The freedom and release – astonishing!
Someone even called out to me,” Where’s your wheelchair?”
My reply came in breathless gasps,” I don’t need a wheelchair in dreams!”
I am, among other things, a Polio Survivor.
Post-Polio Syndrome now my constant companion
It limits my everyday activities like standing for long or walking…
A powered wheelchair is my go-to
I used to call it my electric chair… but that drew too many odd looks!
Running, dancing are long gone
Singing or speaking for long periods
My most recent losses.
Of course, among Christians, I have been asked many times about healing,
Do I believe enough to be healed,
The implication being if you believe hard enough, you will be healed
I find this highly offensive
I know a mother broken and weary by her son’s battle with Cancer
She was told, “If you believed enough even now he could be healed!”
We were at his funeral!
I know what the Lord chose to do for Martha and Mary
Oh, how we love to think we know God’s heart!
How we love to try and be God!
Healing is His to do or do not
It’s His bidding!
I have seen Him heal
I know it happens
I have witnessed miracles
And yet
My answer is this.
Should God choose to heal me
He has my permission to go right ahead without hesitation.
That mother’s son was a wonderful believer, I know he felt the same!
God does heal
I’ve seen it
I bear witness
Miracles happen
I repeat
God heals
Not people
I will accept what God has in store for me with as much grace as I am able
Much like I did when this horrible condition began to interfere with the life I had at the time!
I was a Christian then too,
My life fully and firmly held in His hands,
My career set on a new ministry
Which is why I know He allowed this to happen.
He didn’t make it happen
But since He was there when Polio attacked
He was with the Child close to death
He knows the extent of damage done
He knew how it would take its toll.
He could have stopped it
He chose not to
There must be a good reason!
I came to know Him through what followed
So why would I spend every borrowed breath asking Him to take it away?
This is God’s chosen path for me
I have much to learn
That’s hard to swallow at times
Sometimes I struggle,
I weep overall I’ve lost
I rage over what others have
I’ve come to know that God deals in Tough Love
What’s best for us isn’t always comfortable, nor easy, certainly not pretty
I have met people on this path I would not have met otherwise
Humility, vulnerability, exhaustion, dependence
Learning to ask,
Learning to be
And an utter end of Self
Sometimes He allows the ugly because He trusts us.
He trusts us enough to take Him into it
So He can work through it with us
At times when the pain is too bad,
When the weakness floors me
When the choking scares me
I pray He takes it away.
He gives me ease
He also gives me courage, patience, faith, trust
The weakness to find Him in the midst
Because
What I have to bring
All I have to bring
Is an inadequate offering
Merely crumbs
Not much helps
I struggle, fight, weep
Raging over all I’ve lost
He makes up the difference,
As promised in His Word
In His strength alone
I live, breathe, touch, taste,
I watch, see, listen, laugh
I love, meditate, wait
I knit, write, potter, pray,
I hope
And have dreams where I dance and run with pure joy…
Words and Pictures ©Denise Stanford 2020
All Westie Rescue
•11/05/2019 • Leave a Comment
I can vividly recall the first time I saw dogs rescued from a puppy farm. Dan pulled up flustered, tears in her eyes, her car full of crates.
She had been part of a Puppy Farm Rescue and overwhelmed by the experience, she needed a chat. Together we looked at the dogs cowering in the crates.
Only one dog was able to come forward when I cooed at them. She licked the back of my hand, head held low, fearful eyes switching from one to the other of us, it almost broke my heart.
After all the dog had been through at the hands of Man, that gesture was miraculous.
Dogs are put to breed non-stop from their first season. The conditions in which they are kept are harrowing.
No supervision will safeguard her when the male is put in with her and left.
No vet called when she gives birth to the puppies.
No special diet to nourish her. The puppies will take all the nutrients they needed from the mother and if she had congenital anomalies those are be passed on as well.
Whoever buys puppies from such breeders would have to meet exorbitant vet bills to correct the problems, or abandon the pups altogether. Always insist on seeing the mother of any puppy you buy.
It is astonishing to watch the progress and recovery of these dogs… some so traumatised it takes years to gain their confidence, just like Ned. (pic above)
Danielle at All Westie Rescue uses an holistic approach with amazing results.
The dogs, who seem so old when they arrive, with time and tender loving care, slowly become younger, discovering a puppyish and playful demeanour previously smothered with the burden of breeding, far too early.
They come alive, to reveal their individual loving and loyal characters, like Miss Merry seen here.
AWR also takes in pet Westies that have been relinquished because of need, domestic difficulties or changes, ill health or problematic behaviours. Again the changes in these are amazing.
No Westie is too damaged to be taken in by AWR, and if their abuse has taken too much from them, they pass away loved, cherished and respected as never before.
The dogs are given such love and care the results speak for themselves.
Donations are welcome anytime but on Mother’s Day Weekend Auction will be held to raise much-needed funds to help cover the considerable vet and food bills (see their Facebook page)
Knitting a couple of shawls seems like something so small to donate.
The Mohair Hug or ‘Mo’ shawl is white and furry like the West Highland Terriers themselves.
Worked on 4 mm needles to a Janina Kallio pattern called Paddington’s Garden, it isn’t large (I ran out of yarn) but it is warm, cosy and so soft.
A Highland wool blend was used for the other Hug shawl, Wisp; it’s a kettle dyed superwash yarn.
Knitted on 4 mm needles using a pattern by Nora Backlund called Reyna.
Each is donated in the sincere hope that AWR can continue the amazing work they do to bring these darling dogs back to life and health, and share with their new, respectful and responsible owners the laughter, delight and loyal love these dogs were born to give…
Words Denise Stanford 2019
photos – All Westie Rescue – Australia with permission and Denise Stanford 2019
Last of the Summer Wine
•25/04/2019 • Leave a Comment
It is autumn here in Australia; the Vine is vibrant with colour.
Nights have become chilly and while some days are cooler, others surprise with heat; a perfect Indian Summer then.
My needles have been busy producing Hugs, the collective name I have given to anything from tippets to shawls, including scarves, neckerchiefs, shawlettes, stoles and snuggle rugs.
Living with Post Polio Syndrome, the Pain, Battle Fatigue, increasing weakness and all that goes with it, has robbed me of many things. I cannot do much now… but I can still knit.
I have chosen to concentrate my efforts on knitting these Hugs, with a view to donating them for Fundraising events.
If individuals want to buy them, I would give a guide price and ask they donate to one of the many ministries at our church.
The latest ‘Hug’ to leave my blocking boards is lovely.
Hand dyed, lace weight Superwash virgin wool knitted on 4 mm needles, much larger than recommended for this weight yarn.
The pattern, ‘Interlude’ by Janina Kallio has produced a small shawl that is light and lacy.
Shades of a cherry red splash across the fine yarn with an occasional shock of white; it reminds of a good red spilt across white linen.
I bought the yarn in someone’s destash sale, from Schoppel the colour Beerenhauslese roughly translates as the last berry harvest.
It brings to mind the last harvest of grapes, happening in Australian vineyards just about now.
Winemakers will be hoping the Autumnal changes have brought on “Noble Rot” or Botrytis. This is one blight they hope for since it brings new depths to this last of the summer wine.
So you see age and blight can sometimes bring unexpected rewards!
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2019
Passion of Christ
•20/04/2019 • Leave a CommentThe world had gone crazy
Nature echoed the aching agony they felt
The storm matched the cry of their hearts
Blackened skies tearing winds
Growling thunder piercing strikes
Turbulent winds ripped at clothing
And drove sand to sting the skin
The Earth lurched at the shock of it all
Soldiers had duties to perform
A base job separating warm dead flesh from metal spikes driven deep into the timbers of a cross
The women waited below watching every move
They had stood a little way off keeping vigil through the whole chilling ordeal
Dried blood caked around the wounds made the job difficult
What little light remained was fading fast
Finally they lowered Him to Loving hands below
The men reached for the body and the women drew near
Together they wrapped Him in grave-clothes and delivered Him to the tomb
Another army worked fast too
Amazing this prize delivered to them
They bound and gagged Him
Tied Him hand and foot
To make sure they doubled up with hefty chains secured with sturdy locks
Didn’t want this one to get away
It all seemed unnecessary
The man stood exhausted, defeated
He did not move but remained, head bowed
Mute, a shadow of His Former Self
It did not stop the prisoners,
They saw it as a cause for celebration
Roughly, some jumped upon His shoulders,
Others struck Him behind His knees
Pushing him to the filthy floor
They fought amongst themselves eager to be next to spit on Him
Fingering the open wounds,
Pressing splinters harder into the shadow of His flesh
So they taunted Him,
Repeating lies and accusations
Returning to the mockery that had filled His ears as He journeyed to the End
A jab, a punch, a kick here and there
Each jibe increased their jubilation
Howls and squeals of demented gloating echoed far into the darkest recesses of the hell in which they stood
No light shone here, no compassion found
No soft voices or forgiveness
Degradation streamed down the walls,
It caked the floor and piled in every corner
Once shackled and completely bound,
They led him further into the Darkness
Past chambers of the lost they paraded Him
To the furthest reaches of Hopelessness
There behind thick dense doors,
They chained Him down, burdened with the World’s Sin
Layer upon layer pinning down this meek Companion of God
Satan roared with the Boast
Him I have ensnared
The World did not hear God’s voice
They did not recognised Messiah
That Hope is dashed now, Shattered, Gone forever
When the last key was turned
The crowd of Dark angels sloped away into dismal shadows
Despair dripped all around
This a world without Light
This a world without God
But then
Something stirred in the darkness,
Something trickled through the cracks
Soft at first, a mere ripple
That grew to a deep throaty gurgled like a stream of living water
It flowed into every dark and dismal ear… Laughter
The Laugh of Victory
The Evil one stopped in his mean tracks
Dread replaced his spiteful joy
He knew that sound, he’d heard it from the beginning of time
This laugh grew in Power and Strength
Each Peal shook those slimy Halls of the Dead
Calling down the Righteousness of God
His Pure Radiance shone
Light flooded the Halls
Banishing darkness
Chains shattered
Walls began to crumple
Heavy doors splintered as Christ the Son of God stepped from the dungeon
He took it all
He walked free
Terror melts in his warmth
Lifting a finger He writes upon the wall
‘Jesus Christ can be found even here
The Way, The Truth and the Life’
The purity of His touch transforms
Never again can any soul be imprisoned beyond His Reach
Satan continues to sell the lie that some are beyond Redemption
Do not believe such falsehood
Christ is Victorious over Death and the Depths of Despair
The Passion of Christ stands as our claim to the Simple Truth
God Loves, Here, Now…
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2010
My interpretation of events following the Crucifixion and prior to the Resurrection
Gospel according to Matthew Chapter 27
Whilst this piece may be a flight of imagination, the final message is Truth.
Diamonds in the Dust
•01/01/2019 • Leave a Comment
Don’t remember the former things,
and don’t consider the things of old.
Behold, I will do a new thing.
It springs out now.
Don’t you know it?
I will even make a way in the wilderness,
and rivers in the desert. Is 43:18-19 WEB
As the old year dies and all turns to ashes
I place them into your hand
Oh Lord
I ask you to crush the cinders
The chard remnants of that year
Grind them to dust in those scarred hands
By Your Grace scatter the ashes
To the ends of the Universe
All that is not good
All that will not grow
All that will burden or hinder
All that would destroy or delay
All that would reduce who I am
And who I can become in You
Let all that remains
Be Diamonds in the Dust
Scattered remnants that, by Your Promise
Will become something Precious
Losses and gains
Lessons and memories,
Woundings and scars
Endings
Beginnings
Dragon Slaying
Angels Uplifting
Laughter and tears
Agony and sweet surrender of the soul
Thin places
When I felt you close and closer still
From the tiny fragments of an old year
Build something Strong, Courageous,
Bountiful in Beauty
Sturdy in Resilience
To be woven into the new
And on into all you have set aside for me
And so I look to all that is to come
Knowing I only take with me the very best
Of what was
And all that is
In You…
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford – Buller 2019
Salt Pig; This Way or That
•02/05/2018 • 2 Comments
Many, many years ago I bought this Blue Glazed Terracota Salt Pig
From a Roadside potter in Claire SA
There were dozens of them in different sizes, colours
Lined up in rows upon a shelf
Many times I have
Used it, washed it,
Refreshed the salt
It stands in my cluttered kitchen
Working reasonably well
Though when the level drops
The salt is out of reach
And my hand gets stuck reaching for it
I see them everywhere
In shops for the home cook
I had wondered about the name
Why Salt Pig?
Was it when cooking pork
The salt brings up the crackling?
A few weeks ago after washing it
I was interrupted
I put it down not so carefully
It rolled over settling amongst the tea towels
When I returned, suddenly I could see what I had not seen before
On its side now
The little nubby handle at the top became the piggy nose
The rounded belly held the salt!
Oddly enough it works better this way!
I’m probably telling you something you already know,
But I’d never seen it this way!
It wasn’t ‘sold’ to me that way either
And this is how God teaches me…
Through ordinary everyday things
Seen in a slightly different way
My Salt Pig leaves me pondering
Why had I passively accepted
The way it was sold to me
What else do I accept in the same way?
Of course, we are not talking about Salt Pigs now!
We are talking about so many things
Beliefs, Ideology, Boundaries…
Self Talk, Identity, Self Image
What have we readily accepted
Because it’s been ‘sold’ to us that way?
What have we been told
That we’ve repeated as Truth
Without really knowing?
Without challenging what do I believe?
Without waiting on God
So through His
His Word
His Grace
His Mercy
His Love
His unconditional Love
So He can show another way of seeing things
Is it time
To start these conversations with God
Listening
Watching
Waiting for
His responses
His quickening
Within You
Words and pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2018
From the Archives: The Salt 
Fruits of the Spirit
•07/04/2018 • Leave a Comment
I have watched
I have waited
I have ached with wanting
I have needed
I have hoped
I have yearned for a sign
I have prayed
I have invited
I have faithfully kept watch
I have devoted
I have asked of God
Where is the Fruit your Spirit brings?
How many times have I thought
Why have I not developed the Fruit of the Spirit
Promised in the Scriptures?
Why am I still Impatient, or Unkind?
I could use each and every Fruit many times over
More Self Control would be great
Looking for the Joy in every moment
Would be such a blessing
Like a curtain pulled aside
My wise Lord revealed
Onions!
Onions?
Yes! Onions!
Red onions to be precise, grown in my garden
I was so proud of them.
The few I pulled and used in the kitchen were hot sweet, so fresh
But I left the others too long in the ground
Something I often do
I didn’t lay the tops over to stop them from growing
And they kept on growing – to seed
Like most plants when they run to seed
They became bitter, as protection
So they could not be eaten!
I needed to harvest the onions!
I need to harvest the fruit
I need to harvest the Fruit of the Spirit
I’d always wondered why Paul called it Fruit.
Now – onions have a season
A time to gather in
Whilst the Fruit of the Spirit is there to be harvested
In the time of need
And like Manna in the Wilderness
Best fresh for the moment
This is where the messages become familiar
God will do anything, everything
To draw me closer
To have fellowship with me
To work closely with me
Concerning Fruit of the Spirit He wants me to turn to Him
I need to Define and Declare what fruit I need and…
Ask Him!
As I see it
It’s a Loaves and Fishes kind of thing
He wants me to define the need
Which of the Fruits would enable me in this situation
When I don’t know, I ask that of Him too
Though I often forget to listen and watch for the answers
Then, I Bring what little I have to the table
Asking Him to Bless it
And watch with amazement
When what I have to offer
Goes further, than I ever thought possible
He and I working together
His Spirit within me providing
And like Manna fresh every day
It Satisfies!
Love Joy Peace Patience
Kindness Goodness Faithfulness
Gentleness and Self Control
My journal bears the record
The thanks I give Him
Never equal to His Abundant Provision and Grace
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness and self-control. Against such things, there is no law.” Gal 5 v22-23
Words Pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2018
Praying
•18/10/2017 • 2 Comments
Heavenly Father
She’s fighting to stay,
She’s not giving up
Just yet
Lay upon her your mantle of Grace
Let her know how close you are
How you feel her pain
How you weep with her
How you will soon ease her burden
That you will cradle her, in your loving arms
To the chariot of fire that will take her Home
And the gaping wound her leaving brings
To us
Heal it with your Love
Fill that yawning emptiness with Wisdom
Beyond our understanding
So much so it spills over
Seeping into our Humanness
Reaching to the spirit deep within
Let it speak Truth to this Mystery
Truth we cannot yet know or understand
Give us enough
Enough to Trust
Expand that Trust Lord
Grow it in us
That we can bring our pain to you
Laying it in your Loving hands
Knowing you will respect it
And use it, to heal our Hope
©Denise Stanford-Buller 2017
Worthwhile
•11/08/2017 • 3 Comments
It was a lovely photograph.
A selfie taken by a man who clearly adores the woman snuggled close behind him.
Her face lay against his shoulder, her arms draped around him in restful reassurance.
All who gazed at it felt the warmth of the sun
Could smell the ozone of the changing sea
We smile at their togetherness…
Well, all but one
The woman looked at her own image and saw only imperfection.
She picked away at what she saw, tearing it down
What she spoke over it wiped away all joy of the moment
Clearly there was relational breakdown here, but not what you might think.
The couple, still very much in Love, is together and happy to be so.
No! The relationship that has broken down is with herself
In criticising herself she curses that which was intended for Blessing
That which God intended for Blessing
I do it
Most of us do it, if not all.
That critical glance in a mirror or shop window
That murmured put down
That self judgement to a standard held so high
That moment when a compliment is replaced by a barb
‘You look lovely’ met with ‘Oh this old thing’
When the reason for thanksgiving is tossed aside as no such thing.
Recently I asked my husband if I did anything he didn’t like
His yes came as a shock!
He told me I was
Far too self critical
Far too negative about myself
At first I denied it but he turned a mirror on me that day
He enabled me to recognise
How I Slash or Tear at my Self image
How I curse myself
We prayed
I prayed
I asked God
Show me how this hurts You
I believe He did
In Psalm 139 He shows me how treasured I am
Through Song of Songs how beautiful I am
God loves me as I am
He loves me so much
He put Himself through Hell literally for my sake.
When I attack myself
I deny that Beauty
I deny all the Bounty
I deny all that Love
I hold myself to a Higher Standard than God
What Arrogance!
To call God ‘LIAR!’
When I put myself down
I open the door to the Enemy
I invite Satan in
I give him the weapons
I show him the targets at which to strike
Then I help him
By cursing myself
He is the thief
He wants me to plunder God’s treasure
He wants me
To deny truth
To believe lies
To live the curse
Doing this
I curse
That which God made for Blessing
Doing this
I curse
That which God set apart for Himself
In the Old Testament I read
Of the lavish Glory and Beauty built into God’s Temple,
I read of the desecration of that Holy Place
With Lies
Foreign gods
Profane deities
Crude idols to Baal and Asherah
God’s Word says I am the Temple of the Holy Spirit
But so often
I daub those walls with graffiti
With Lies
I am no good
I am nothing
Too fat
Too thin
Too wrinkly
Too old, too grey
Too short, too tall,
I am ugly, disabled, weak, useless…
Hopeless
Worthless
Tell me you’ve never said any of that about yourself
They are lies
All lies
We need to stop
We need to stop the curses
We need to stop cursing ourselves
No we are not perfect
We are being perfected, in Christ
We are Worthwhile
You are Worthwhile
It is time to
Accept all God has blessed you with
Time to accept
All God has Blessed
With you
Psalm 139
Song of Solomon
1 Corinthians 6:19-20
Words and pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2017
I’m Happy With That!
•21/03/2017 • Leave a Comment
I stand in the Lamington National Park, Queensland, gazing up at huge Atlantic Beech trees.
They are host to an abundance of epiphyte plants including Strangler Fig vines.
Deeper into the forest we find the filigree shell of a Strangler Fig, standing alone, where once a tree hosting it stood.
Long ago the fig had engulfed the tree.
The tree had died, returned to Dust and had blown away…
That can take a century or more.
Much later, whilst pondering Psalm 103, I felt inspired by what I had seen in the forest that day.
Psalm 103
1 Let all that I am praise the Lord;
with my whole heart, I will praise his holy name.
2 Let all that I am praise the Lord;
may I never forget the good things he does for me.
3 He forgives all my sins
and heals all my diseases.
4 He redeems me from death
and crowns me with love and tender mercies.
5 He fills my life with good things.
My youth is renewed like the eagle’s!
14 For he knows how weak we are;
he remembers we are only dust.
15 Our days on earth are like grass;
like wildflowers, we bloom and die.
16 The wind blows, and we are gone—
as though we had never been here.
17 But the love of the Lord remains forever
with those who fear him. Psalm 103 v -1-17 NLT
My prayer is that with my whole heart, for my whole Life, I would Praise the Lord.
I know I am dust.
In the fulness of time I will wither away and only His Love will remain.
But what He showed me of that Love, that Process was stunning and unexpected…
I believe He promises,
“Like the filigree of the Fig
surrounding the Beech tree
so my love will enclose you
It will enlarge you
and when the old passes away
all that will remain
is my Love
shaped by who you are
Our journey together
with the infinite detail of my Love
will define you”
20 Praise the Lord, you angels,
you mighty ones who carry out his plans,
listening for each of his commands.
21 Yes, praise the Lord, you armies of angels
who serve him and do his will!
22 Praise the Lord, everything he has created,
everything in all his kingdom.
Let all that I am praise the Lord. Psalm 103 v 20-22 NLT
The thought of just disappearing seems sad to me.
The thought of being memorialised by God’s Love like this?
Well I’d be happy with that!
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2017
The Year Ahead
•02/01/2017 • 2 Comments
In the Year ahead may you, yes You, be Blessed in a way that leaves you amazed, wondering at the mysteries of God – in ALL His Glory.
I pray it will be so very special for you; a personal connection that will leave you with a real sense of hope.
God met me in my deepest need; with answers far beyond my expectation – the same awaits you in 2017
I pray you will find plenty of encouragement here, Within the Vine.
Happy & Blessed New Year
Words and Photograph ©Denise Stanford 2017
Free At Last
•11/10/2016 • 2 Comments
I just saw a lovely pastel sketch of a ‘butterfly’ and woman merged into one mythical creature
The title of the piece declared
Free at last…
We may long to be free of the restrictions being human brings
to feel freedom like the creatures of the air
even on a spiritual level
But before the caterpillar becomes ‘free’
it must first submit to a kind of death
to a death of familiar
death of safe
death of known
death of its old life
its old ways
its perceived power and control
it must submit to the silence and isolation of the cocoon
it must submit perhaps to the unknown…
It must trust instincts inbred
to find
that right place
that right season
to weave a cocoon in the right way
then
entangling oneself within
remain completely vulnerable
and wait
whilst changes of mammoth significance occur
not once questioning or interrupting the process
Perhaps if we
Listened for God
in Silence
In Isolation
trusting Him
to provide
the right time
the right space
the right season
to follow where He leads
Obedient to His promptings
Not insisting on
our way
our time
our terms
our conditions
our control
To leave ourselves open to Him
become entangled in His Word
to remain vulnerable to Him
defenceless in the face of
Who He Is
Then perhaps we will find
that prison gate swinging wide
right where we are
And take flight in Praise of Him
He is the Key
to true
Freedom
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2016
Still Within The Vine
•13/09/2016 • 2 Comments
I Remain
Within The Vine
I Stand
Upon the Firm Foundation
Of God’s Love
In quiet confidence
In His Faith
I Know
I Am
Redeemed
By His Grace
Victorious
By His Power
Known
By His love
I Abide
In His Love
Allowing
No doubts
I Remain
Held firm
Within The Vine
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford-Buller 2016
Father Song
•15/09/2015 • 1 Comment
I step into the early morning air,
It is crisp, clear, the freshness awakens me
The Sun is rising; it spills golden light all around
I see tiny dew drops edging each leaf, soon they will be gone
Seen by my eyes alone but here too I see The Father’s Hand
Nearby Magpie lifts his head, warbling a purlieu song
That claims all I see as his own.
My tree, my roses, my garden, my abode
My own; he tells the world loud and clear
Creator God, You Paint the day
You Smile at the treasures I find
You walk with me, You remind me I Am
Your Child, Your Joy
Oh how I delight in You, in this Your abiding love
As I lean in close You lean in closer
Breathless I know, I know I am known
You lift Your Head oh God and Sing Your Father song
You claim me as Your own and willingly I stand as Yours
My mind My soul My heart My Love My all
All Your Own
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2015
The Wonder Of It All
•24/12/2014 • Leave a CommentMatthew 18 1-4 The Message
“At about the same time, the disciples came to Jesus asking, “Who gets the highest rank in God’s kingdom?” For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.”
Watch Child faces
Aglow in Candlelight
Awestruck by Christmas
Amazed by the Wonder of it all
Know this
As you smile over them
The Father Smiles over you
As you hope for their delight
The Father Hopes for yours
As you sing that lullaby
To comfort Child heart
To banish Child fears
So The Father sings His Song over you
Lean in
Feel the Depth of His Love for you
Be Amazed by the Wonder of it all
Be Awestruck by Christmas
Let your Child Heart Glow
In the Light of Father’s Love
Words by Denise Stanford © 2014
Photographs by Denise & James Stanford © 2014
With a Passion
•13/04/2014 • 2 Comments
I love you Lord
With a Passion
Though
Faint shadow
Of Your Passion for me
Hold me close
Do not let me go
Teach me your ways
Leave me an ever-willing pupil
Soft
Open
To Your Rhythms of Grace
Soul
Stay ready to hear
The Heart Whispers
Of Your Lord
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2014
My Heart
•14/01/2014 • Leave a Comment
Oh my Heart
Decide upon this
Where ever
When ever
Seek the Lord
He will be found
Drawing you into
Deeper Connection
Deeper Knowledge
Deeper Passion
Deeper Relationship
Deeper Lessons
Made easier by Love
Creating Joy
That future Hope
Oh my Heart
Even in
Dark Despair
He holds you
Gently
Carefully
He draws you close
With
Kindness
Grace
Mercy
Love
Oh my Heart
Seek Him today
With all you have
He will be found
In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.
Jeremiah 29 v 12,13 NLT
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2014
Thin Places
•01/01/2014 • 1 CommentYesterday’s quiet time verse:
Is 41v10 NLT
Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
Watching New Year Fireworks at midnight, alone in a crowd… thinking of my late husband and all that might have been, tears fill my eyes… then that reassuring warmth, like breath upon my cheek, the whisper ‘It will be alright, I promise’… and I just know it will…
This Morning’s Quiet Time verse: Is 43 v19 NLT
For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.
I hope for you all, thin places, where the mystery seeps through and touches you with Grace x x
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2014
White Christmas
•23/12/2013 • 4 Comments
It was always going to be difficult
Every little thing
Of this first Christmas
Memories of many
Memory of one
A Trigger
For Happiness
For tears
I could not taint
What was
With what is
I renew
Choosing a White Christmas
Tree
Lights
Ornaments
White
Colour of
Childhood Christmas
Jack Frosted Lace
Icicles
Snow
White
Shining in the East
Colour of
Mourning
Sorrow
White
For me is
Fresh
Pure
Shining with Hope
A Light in Darkness
Exchanging that Darkness for light
I hold Hope in my heart
One day I will see him
This man gone
This man I Love
This man I miss
So much
That Hope
Borne of Love
Born at Christmas
In the face of a baby
Jesus Christ
God’s own Son
Painful
Yes
Difficult
Yes
Worthwhile
Oh Yes
I find
I can be happy and sad
I can see the true meaning of Christmas
More clearly through tear misted eyes
I Hope
For Peace
For Joy
For Happiness
Choose to make it so
Words and pictures © 2013 Denise Stanford
But Not Alone
•05/11/2013 • 1 Comment
Alone
But not alone
As clouds dance across blue sky
Sunbeams chase shadows
Lizards seek warmth
Pobblebonks call from their pond
Birds busy in the day
The house dogs lead me
Through their garden
I find a rose, almost perfect
Fallen too soon from its bush
Only a few rain-stained petals
To spoil the perfect bloom
I carry it with me
When I find the bench
I know
Though a stranger to this idyll
It’s where you would sit with me
Together
You and I
As so many times before
In gardens gorgeous
I place the rose next to me
Sitting there as Peace
Trickles down
In honour of our Love
I stay a while
Then moving on
Alone
But not alone
I carry still
The Love we grew
The Love that grew us
The Love that yet lives
That perfect bloom
I leave the rose
An offering on the altar
Of what might have been
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2013
Thank you Bungawarrah.
The Journals – Day 31
•05/11/2013 • Leave a Comment
He is dead
My heart shatters
Into a thousand tiny shards
Each one razor sharp
Cuts to the core
Each breath hurts
Each thought sets my mind spinning
I feel a kind of madness
How can anyone ever survive this?
I weep
Pray
Weep
Read
The Word
I find
A Promise
A Prayer
May God, who puts all things together,
makes all things whole…Now put you together…
The Message – Hebrews 13 fragments
And I know
God will
Gradually
Slowly
Purposefully
Piece me back together
He will rebuild
Nothing lost
Love Alive
Providing me
With all I need
To please Him
This is what I want
This is what I choose
This is whom I trust…
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford From The Journals
I Watch, I Wait
•30/09/2013 • 2 Comments
I find myself
Tight
Curled up
Tense
Waiting
Watching
Listening long
for…
A foot fall
A key turn
For that hello
I watch the clock
Count the days
He should be home by now
That familiar
That smile
Those deep brown eyes
His soft, gentle glance
That knowing
Of all that has passed
And passes between us
And still I wait
I search the crowds
The usual places
I watch feet
For loping stride
Of aching limb
Head and shoulders above others
That crown of silver
Bestowed with age
Stooping now
With the pain of days
I see
My heart skips
Yes!
My head murmurs
No
It cannot be
Disappointment bites
Sadness sinks my hope afloat
I am longing for what is no more
What never can be again
I want
All I cannot have
Ignoring
All that is
Overlooking
All I have
For all I have not
Oh Lord
I am reminded
You say
I am with you
Always
All Ways
I overlook that
Simple
Saturated
Truth
With a hopeless passion
I cry for my husband gone
Help me to cry for You
With Passion
Renewed
With First Love
Refreshed
I listen for the man
Help me to listen for You
In Gentle whispers
In Your tender Word
I watch for the man
Enable me to see you Lord
Through all Your signs
Through all Your wonders
I wait for the man
Give me Patience to wait
For You Lord
For Your Time
In the night
I cry for him
I long for his arms
Enfolding me
His hands holding mine
But he is gone
You are here Lord
Let my Soul find her rest in You
Find her comfort in Your embrace
Find safe shelter beneath your wings
For in You Lord
The man and I remain One
He in Glory with You
Me on earth
With more to do
What if
One day I turned
To find You gone
How much more would my soul lament
How much more would I cry
For You
Emmanuel
Lover of my soul
Always
All ways
Help me
To Love
To Honour
To Cherish
To Obey
You my Lord
My King
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2013
Holding On
•03/08/2013 • 3 Comments
My world now
A whirlpool of emotions
Mostly low and lower
Finding a breathing space
Shocks me
It is dark
The day has been
Intense
Tomorrow promises
More of the same
Before bedtime
Friend comes
With tears in her eyes
Love in her heart
Born of Friendship
Born of God’s Love
She places gently
Into my hand
A small bag
Silky soft
But heavy with its burden
Like my heart
‘Something for you to hold onto’
She says
Within is a stone
Solid
Sure
Of Beauty
Of the Earth
She holds me
She prays for me
She disappears into the night
That Day we held
The Dust of his body
We thanked
We prayed
Before letting go
An Earthen vessel gone
Returned to the Earth
From whence it came
His Soul returned to God
From whence it came
All that remains
His love
His stories
His laughter
His special ways
His uniqueness
Our memories
The pebble sits
Comfortable in my hand
Reassuringly solid
I will learn to allow
Those memories to
Sit comfortable in my heart
The rock
Something of the Earth
A dull grey green
Feldspar – Laboradorite
But
With illumination
There is play within
Light Returning colours
Making a gem of it
I do hold on
Solid Assurance
All is not lost
Just Changed
I hold memories
I hold joys
I hold sadnesses
I hold experiences
As couple
Become part of who I am
Now as one
And
God Holds me
Nestled safe
In the palm of His hand
With Illumination
There will be play within
His Light returning colours
Making Gems
Of us all…
Words, Photographs and Painting © Denise Stanford 2013
From the Archives:
My Surrender
•23/07/2013 • 3 Comments
I try
I try so hard
To hold back the waves
Huge
Icy
Grey
Dumpers
Hitting me
Hard and harder
Expected
Unexpected
They surge over me
Knocking me to my knees
Threatening
To overwhelm
To drown
Taking my breathe
Deadening all warmth
Numbing all joy
Paralysing all hope
I cannot see
I cannot hear
Above this relentless roar
This endless pounding
Upon his worldly throne
Intent upon stemming the tide
Daring it to touch his royal person
He failed
Declaring
Only God
Creator of Tides
Commands
Laws Eternal
I also fail
To stem the Grief
The panic
The pain
Though I strive to prevent them
Waves of
Regret
Sadness
Solitude
Heartache
Raw Panic
And Longing
Hit me hard
The enemy hits me deep
And deeper still
I cannot stem this onslaught
It must happen
I have loved
I have lost
This then is the cost
Holy Spirit whispers
Bringing something to mind
So in Submission
I cross my hands upon my breast
Closing my eyes
I lean back into the arms of my Lord
Like the Supplicant come to the Baptist
I lean into Him
I rest upon Him
I give myself to the experience
He will support me
He will not let me go
As the waters rush over me
I am submerged
Drenched by the experience
I give each icy surge to Him
For His measure
For His answer
For Him to order
As I name each sorrow
He asks, Do you give all to me?
I reply
Yes
Yes Lord
All…
And I weep unashamed
My tears adding to the salty tide
And I sorrow from a heart full of Love
For my husband
For what might have been
And I rejoice in the Blessings of Marriage long
Though parted by death
We are joined in the Father
Closer and Closer yet
I can rest in His arms….
Words and Pictures © Denise Stanford 2013
Within the Vine 