Welcome!
Come in
I am so glad to see you
Make yourself at home
Taste a bit of heaven
Earth traveler
Here is some food
Some conversation
To strengthen your soul
And lighten your heart
Rest for the next stage
Of your journey
Here is a quiet place
To hear the whispers
Of God’s love
© 2013 Julie Clark
I asked for a tissue
He gave me a handkerchief
I asked for a crumb
He invited me to a feast
I hid my face in shame
Not daring to look at His
Fearing anger
When all the while
His eyes danced
With delight
His arms outstretched
Waiting for me
To come home
© 2013 Julie Clark
I am finding the borderlands here.
The place I came from and call home, where I have never been a foreigner, so my passport tells me.
Even though I am an introvert, I really love this place of getting to know others who are different from myself, once I get past my shyness.
Pressing out beyond the familiar helps me keep growing, learning and loving.
Last month at the Bosnian Mosque on the Day of Remembrance, I could remember with my neighbors and help just a little to carry their burden.
The Arab young men my husband works with have been a delight.
Who would have thought that one of them knew how to make raspberry cheesecake!
Yet, I have known for a long time that this is not my true home.
My heart tells me there is so much more beyond this land I see.
Because daily I am there at the borderlands of heaven and earth,
Every time I pray.
The ache in our hearts
Is the call
To come deeper
Come closer
To the One
Who sees us
Knows us
Loves us
And satisfies us
Beyond all measurement.
We don’t always
Recognize
The voice
In our pain
We run
To another
Temporary comfort
That leaves us
Hollow and unsatisfied
Self-hating and
Aching for
The true source
Of all that we need.
It is a learning
To be turning
Towards that faint sound
Of the rushing river
To be seeking
In desperation
For that Living Water
Like a deer
Panting
A matter of life or death
To find and
To know that
We have been found
And we are known
And brought safely
Home.
© 2012 Julie Clark
In the wee hours tomorrow morning we will begin our journey home. I am tired but happy. Two months away, from where I now call home, is good for this 54 year old, mom and new grandmother. I’ve been stretched a bit, which is always a good cure for fossilization.
My overwhelming feeling is gratefulness. I am grateful to have been near when my grandson was born and help his parents in the first three weeks of his sweet life. I am grateful that there is still work for me to do here in these Asian lands where I have spent two thirds of my adulthood. To see life and growth in those I have invested has brought much joy to my heart. I am grateful to continue to work with and walk along side my partner and husband of 33 years.
The dramatic Central Asian spring bursting in color and freshness contributes to my feelings of hope. Truly life is at work in our world. Seeds push through the ground after awhile and life is renewed. The natural world mirrors the spiritual world. The Kingdom of God intersects with our lives on planet earth and life continues to burst forth. It takes some perspective combined with time to see it happen. For time and perspective I am also grateful.
It happened again today
As I turned the corner
That pulling up from the deep
Kind of feeling
As the view opened
And there were the Olympics
In their cold, lofty solitude
Calling me to breathe deeper
To listen to the silence
To acknowledge the ancient wisdom
Flowing within and without
The present
Where heaven meets earth
Is all I have
I need to recognize it
And make my home there
© 2012 Julie Clark
You needed me
I signed up
When I said: I am yours
You took me at my word
You asked me
Will you do this for me?
Will you go?
Far away from your home?
Take this with you: my love
I said yes
Off I went
Back and forth for 30 years.
Gave it my all
Sometimes it didn’t seem like much
Or not enough
I forgot about seeds
They surprised me
Then I remembered
Where that seed came from
You
That is why the fruit is so sweet.
You spent me
Now restore me
Am I being too demanding?
Maybe
You were the one who said
Ask, seek, and knock
And keep at it
Until something happens
And what about that woman
Who badgered the shady judge
Until he gave her what she wanted
Justice
Or the neighbor
Relentlessly knocking in the night
Finally the door is open
And the other neighbor
Hands over his bread
There is something about you
Always trying to get my attention
Trying to get me to talk to you
Like a middle school boy
Playing tricks on me
Until I notice you
Or you just show up
When I am not expecting you
Saying
Here I am
I love you
Ok
Please restore me
© 2011 Julie Clark
I’m glad our neighbors cut down their dead trees. One was perilously close to our house. The wind is whipping the branches around the rest of the trees and blowing the fall colors to the ground. It will take a few more of these windy days to knock all the color out of fall. We still have a little more time to go out and enjoy this season here in the Northwest. In other parts of the world people are seeing winter knocking with its suitcases at the door, looking like it will move in for a long spell.
Bill teases me about my love for weather. It’s one of the first sections I look in the newspaper every morning. (I showed him how to read the tide charts and now he checks that too.) I have always been fascinated by weather. As a child, books about extreme weather always caught my eye. Maybe it was because I was from LA and our weather was so boring.
The typhoons of Southeast Asia were exciting to experience. I was amazed when we landed in the middle of one in Hong Kong. Our plane shuttered and dipped with tall buildings on each side, but landed undamaged to the relief of all aboard. Once in Taiwan we decided to go to the movie theatre during a typhoon. The theatre was pretty empty. I guess most people found it safer to stay home rather than risk something flying from one of the tall buildings onto their heads. I see their point now in retrospect. During the big ones we stayed home and watched from our 4th story windows as the debris flew by and our building was buffeted by the winds.
I was not prepared for the harsh winters of Northwest China. How could I be, having only seen snow fall once in my life? Before moving there to start our English teaching jobs, we did some research and bought our winter gear through an LL Bean catalog. One thing we forgot to do was check the winter fashion info for our destination. So when we showed up in our Maine hunting boots that first winter we made quite the impression. You know the kind with the thick felt lining, rubber soles and leather sides. I was grateful that my feet were warm and dry, but I couldn’t walk down the street without all eyes (and there were a lot of them) focused on my feet. Most people never lifted their eyes to see the rest of me as they passed by in their sleek leather boots. For the women 3 inch heals was the norm. I finally could take it no longer and broke down and bought a pair of the high healed version of boots. There were two problems with this approach. 1.) I, at 5’ 8”, was already towering over most women and had never really learned to walk in high heels. 2.) Learning how to walk on ice was already tricky for me. As soon as we got out to Hong Kong for our winter break I ditched those boots and found some more stylish flat ones. Not an easy feat with my biggish feet for Hong Kong sizes.
Along with winter weather comes the challenge of keeping warm. Southeast China can get pretty chilly and damp for a few weeks in the winter. The places we lived never had any heating. So we quickly learned the art of layering and understood better the need for padded clothing. If all else failed we headed to bed under our thick cotton comforter. When we lived in the Northwest there was always a certain date that the central heating via steam radiators came on. That date more often than not was after the first snowfall. We usually had a couple of weeks on each end of the season that we were pretty miserable.
In Kazakhstan there were other problems of staying warm. In the early years during the coldest weeks the gas was low in the city. This meant very chilly conditions in our homes. Later, we moved to a home that was heated mainly by a wood stove. Simple enough except that dry seasoned wood was not always available or we just didn’t know where to find it. Following are a couple of poems that help capture my feelings during that period.
Entombed in winter
White, ice, cold
Slip sliding away
Crash, fall, trouble.
Let me stay home
By my fire.
For others joy
Ride, slide, ski.
I feel trapped
Waiting for spring thaw.
Wood is almost gone
It’s snowing outside
I’m hiding from my rascal cats
In my electric-space heater heated room.
© 2010 Julie Clark
Backfromtheborderlands's Blog 