Try Again

Back again
To watch and wait
The blurry screen that dictates
My fear that I have hoped in vain

Hope isn’t a road to victory
But it sustains the heart in battle
To give it up is to succumb to panic

As I wait I hope
Perhaps this is not all in vain
Might there still be a beating life
Fighting to stay
Desperate for a safe place
But I cannot guarantee the safety of that place
This vessel that works and breaks without reason or warning
I can only hope that this time it ticks without stopping…

Tick tock
The clock has stopped
Blurry screens free of that rhythmic beat
Time now means a different thing
Waiting to pass away what couldn’t stay
This path a bit more worn as we tread it once again

Similar and different to so many stories
Common ground with varying degrees of acceptance and agony
Where hearts mend and break

Sleep now, rest your soul
Tomorrow the sun will rise and you’ll still be alive
To hope and dream and try again

Riding the Storm

Just like every situation where you feel the brokenness of the grave

Like the moon pushes the tides in and out, you cry and laugh in equal amounts and the world looks on and thinks you’ve lost your mind 

But how else do you cope with the blows of nature’s hammer, but to ride out into the storm and feel the battering and breathe in when calm comes and then to let your face be whipped by the falling rain and still come out in the peace again

Your Love Still Sings In Me

Life is different now 

It’s quiet and noisy in ways that it wasn’t before

Windows frame stories differently too

Not quite the same comings and goings

Doors shut in strange ways

The kettle boils less

The steady shouts for cups of tea only echo through the kitchen 

I wonder if I drink it more now out of sentimentality  

Still, joy streams through the home

Every so often, sadness wafts in

It’s just part of our life now 

So much the same, but so different without the familiarity of you intermingled

Missed always but in a way always here

In the laughs 

In the fights

In the dreaming

In the hoping

You still stay with me and I know my heart lives because you did

None of this would be without you and in that I know, death is not victorious 

The thief has not stolen everything 

The sting is tempered by how your love still sings in me

Stephen Fry, I Don’t Know Why but I’ve Seen Enough

I am a follower of Jesus, however frustrating I find it that I am greeted by silence to the many questions that haunt me. But I’ve seen enough of God’s power, enough of God’s love in this life to know, that whilst I am now disatisfied with not understanding, one day I will be fully satisfied and my questions will no longer be a thorn in my side.

I have had my own share of struggle, I know others who’ve had more than a portion of pain to cope with, but yet our choice is not easy. Our broken hearts do not dictate our belief in our God.

I’ve seen the sick healed, I’ve seen the shattered restored and I cannot fathom why some prayer is answered and some is not. There are many things in this universe so far beyond the grasp of my mind, that my personal lack of understanding, is not reason enough to make me unsee what I’ve seen and unknow the little I do know and turn a blind eye to the answers that have come.

We can only know so much and then comes a choice of faith. I choose Jesus because He was radically forgiving and merciful. I choose Him because He chose me first. I choose Him because centuries on I see the power of His sacrifice in so many, including in my own life.

So no, I have no answers to your whys or mine. But I have had some answers, I’ve had some understanding and that some is enough for me to say yes to a man who loves me and you, more than we will ever be loved by another.

Days With You

My days with you are like watching a meadow of flowers bloom
Each little flower bursts up like a new word bursting from your sweet little mouth
But of course flowers don’t burst, it just appears that way sometimes, as if they’ve just appeared out of nowhere
But really I’ve been watching closely, the gentle unfurling of stalk and leaves and petals…

Like your curiosity, the way you play with sounds until it pops out all formed and I can only gaze at you
The miracle that, each day, leaves me breathless

In speechless awe, I watch as bit by bit you reveal yourself to me, as if heaven drips down on you and I can see all that is divine

In the way your giggles slip from your throat or the way your eyes search mine or the way your little arms reach up and around my neck and you rest your head upon my shoulder and I’ve never known such trust


You cannot have a fling with freedom
It requires all of you, there is no walking away
It calls down the generations from blood stained crosses and blood stained offices
It cries from battle fields and hospitals
It reaches out to hearts that oppose hate
It bandies no flattering words, it does not manipulate
It tells you straight
Following me will cost you everything

Stand up and they will stand against you
Lie down and they will trample over you
Speak out and they will shoot you
Show love and they will throw it back at you
Sometimes there are fights that only end one way
But never, never in vain

Every grave that tenderly embraces the warriors of the ages knows that there rest the world changers
So let not fear strike your weary hearts
It’s no small thing to join the ranks of the willing, to sign up for the fight
But blessed are the peacemakers, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven


The more I grow up, the “older” I get
The more I realise
I don’t want to be sexy
I don’t want to be a perfect picture of beautiful
I don’t want to spend my time laboriously working on my handles, or thighs, or surfboard stomach
The more I grow up the more I cringe at the flattering remarks
Even though I give them out myself to friends and family and strangers
It’s nice to complement and be complemented
But I’m tired of my inner dialogue of comparison
This conversation of comparison that dehumanises me
Holding myself and others up to some ridiculous standard of humanity

Now I find I’m falling in love with authentic
Authentic is attractive in a way that doesn’t pull the lust strings
Authentic is beautiful in a way that doesn’t scream “why wasn’t I born that way?”
Authentic is attainable
Authentic is not needing to prove myself to anybody
Authentic is loving who I am
Working on my shortcomings without feeling like a failure for having them
Being confident in my gifts and abilities, without feeling small if others have more
I can love more purposefully, more purely because authentic is not about what others can give me, authentic is about how I contribute by just being me

Perfect does not exist
I fail, regularly
Often have views that need adjusting or throwing out
I let my friends down, I’m not always there for my family
Daily I know, there are things I could do better
But I do say I’m sorry, I do try harder
But I’m only human and I know I’ll not get through this life without upsetting some people
I’m done with trying to be who I perceive others want me to be
I’m done with being crippled by insecurity
I’m glad to say I have virtues that I admire in myself
I love who I am
Being able to say that hasn’t come easily
But I believe it’s a vital journey to undertake
To strip away the world’s expectations
Strip away the hate and negative opinions
Learn to just be you, sit with whatever and wherever life has taken you
And tell yourself, “I love you!”

Preserving a moment…

This is how you fall asleep
With your little arm around my neck
I want to take a photo
But I daren’t
This moment is too precious
Your sweet breath tickles my cheek as we lay nose to nose
This close, your perfection breaks down all my dissatisfaction
Your little mouth curls with a smile
Some dream inside your beautiful mind
Some happiness, some contentment, all there in that expression
My little girl
My heart’s delight
All your trust lifts away all my frustrations and,
if only for this moment, I forget my failures
But I just can’t resist
One click to preserve it
You, sleeping, with your little arm around my neck

Copyright. All rights reserved Glenda Robinson.

If I Should Have Another Life

If I should have another life
I would take exams in compassion
I would harden my stomach,
but not my heart,
against the decay of the dying
I would go to university to learn to appreciate diversity
I would stay up all night teaching myself biology so that I would one day know how to treat the
that lay wasting
You see, I have become acquainted with a rare breed of person
The most patient and kind and accepting women
In the back of my mind I knew they were there
Diligently working
Caring for the weak, the broken and the hurting
But I never really thought about the detail of their hearts
The types of souls that dedicate their lives to the daily grind of giving dignity to the dying and call it
a vocation
a calling
a gift of loving
It makes me think about my own daily grind
How I love the strangers in my life
How many times have I walked past eyes that are searching for hope
Not realising or refusing to see
That their hope lives inside of me
In my turning a blind eye I have robbed them of a hand up from the squalor of
lost dreams
lost potential
lost homes
lost family
I didn’t choose to study how to care for the sick, those near death
But I don’t need a degree to be the hope that others need
a simple conversation
a spared few minutes
a sandwich
a warm drink on a winter night
a hug
How hard can it be for us to love the weakest in our communities?
This is what these pillars of strength have taught me as they tend to
the dying men
the dying women
the dying children
That love is a way of living.
There is this strange thing that happens in the last few weeks of life
When you know death is around the corner and your time is nearly up
I’ve seen a man confess love in place of anger
Remember lost moments of joy instead of hate
Connect to strangers in immediate ways
like this moment
this very moment
is the only
In those last weeks, every detail that filters in, is turned into sharp relief
The smile of a child
The specks of white in somebody’s eyes
The kindness shown that once would’ve so easily been lost in ungrateful haste
Now strikes your heart like the blow of sweet loves kiss
It strikes me, that if we lived like those live in the final weeks of living
Life would be more magical than the most romantic movie
More adventurous than fictional stories
If we lived like those women who live to care
Our communities would not be dying
So I should not think
If I should have another life!
I have this life to live
Like every moment counts
And every person

The Line

We’ll stone you with our words
Drag you out to shame you, encircle and provoke you
Form a ring around you as we toss our words of condemnation up in the air
Feeling their weight, wondering just how to aim them
or Head?
Just waiting for you to reveal your weakness

There is only one who can reveal brokenness to those who are blind to it
Only one with the right or authority to help us overcome it
If you can zone out the shouts of the manic religious
You may just hear the granules of sand shifting beneath the weight of protection
Protection from the misguided mob, struggling under their weight of perfection

A line was drawn, a silent ultimatum, to toss away our self righteous convictions
Toss away our stones that call for heads
Toss away our words whose scars have created worse wounds than death
Toss away our attitudes that shut out the lost
Toss away our hatred that mars His image in us

Instead we stand shame faced in the light of our hypocrisy
The man that we love drew a line in the sand and we did not choose the side where He stands