The light that our ruin lets in

Dare we stand in the cracks, the broken places that our reactions have created?

Do we choose to walk away, or kneel?

Here, faced with the choices, who will we choose: the hero or ourselves?


There is the falling. The breaking.
The tearing open. The pulled apart.
The head buried in the hands.
The fists pounding on the floor.
The shrieks and the sobs and the why
and the why
and the why.

This is the broken heart; the grief; the failure;
the betrayal; the disappointment; the loss;
the leaving the garden behind.  

There is the waking up in the wilderness.
The long and trembling wait.
The glimpses of movement in the shadows.
The pale beginning. The unexpected expansion.
The deeper rivers discovered. The reality uncovered.
The truth rushing up. The love pouring in
and pouring in
and pouring in.

This is the dawn that the darkness brings;
the light that our ruin lets in;
the gold filling the cracks in our shattered lives.

. . .

There is the realisation. The astonishment of grace.
The heart that knows why it was made.
The response.
The renewed or newly discovered purpose.
The opening up. The reaching out.
The tentative steps forward growing bolder
and bolder
and bolder.

This is the move from I to us, from me to we;
the fierce and tender hope
that only eyes that have wept can see;
the journey that is goodness, is a terrible beauty,
is the message that is written in the blood of God.

+ Gideon Heugh, from Rumours of Light, 2021


This week

For those of us in the UK, this week has been fairly turbulent (again), and we are faced with political upheaval on a scale that we have never encountered before. Yet, I am also aware that many of us across the globe are also facing personal challenges, and hope that my words during this week have offered some water for your soul.