The Innkeeeper

Yes. Of course I remember that night. How could I forget it? It was such a busy time, what with the census and all. All the inns were full to bursting, mine included. People knocking on the tables for food; for drinks. People knocking on the door for shelter; for a place to sleep. People cursing and swearing and fighting for rooms; for space; even for fun. Yes. Of course I remember. Then this man arrived at the door. I didn't see him or hear him at first but when I did he was so unlike the rest; so calm; so patiently waiting at the open door. I was about to turn him away; give him short shrift but when I looked at him more closely he looked so exhausted; so hopeless. Then I saw behind him a young lady, very pregnant, sitting on a donkey. She had the same expression; exhausted; hopeless. And I knew I had to help. The only place I could offer was the stable. It was smelly; dirty; dark; confined but the look on their faces - so relieved; so grateful made me feel embarrassed; ashamed. I called my wife and we did what we could to clean the place; put down new straw; move the animals to one side; find some bedding. It was so little but again they were so grateful... I slept so soundly that night but early next morning I went in to see how they were and there was this beautiful baby boy lying asleep next to his mother. They smiled at me. They let me hold him and that was such a wonderful moment; such a privilege; and all the thanks I needed. How could I ever forget? C Kathleen Wilks

Mary

Joseph, tell me. What is he like? Who is he like? I could keep silent no longer. Ever since the Angel Gabriel had told me I was to bear God’s child I had had this nagging worry; A worry I could voice to no-one - not to Joseph; not to Elizabeth; certainly not to my mother. I had asked God many times to tell me but He had stayed silent. I should have asked Gabriel but I was so shocked at the time and anyway it hadn’t occurred to me until later. Everyone told me everything was perfectly normal but how was I to know? How was anyone to know? I had never been pregnant before and this was no normal pregnancy although I couldn’t tell anyone that! So I kept my worries to myself. Sometimes I even forgot them but then they would surface again. What would the baby look like? Would he be different? You know - would he be like his Father? and if so what would that be like? I had put it all to the back of my mind what with having to get ready to go to Bethlehem; doing my best not to be a burden to Joseph on the way; trying to find somewhere to stay; and then the labour; the birth. I was so exhausted but I couldn’t rest until I knew; until I’d seen for myself. Joseph held him up for me to see. “He’s perfect,” he said. and he was right; so right. © Kathleen Wilks

The Woman who was bent

It was awful; the discomfort, the pain, the humiliation, the shame. When I was young I had seen others like me; bent, misshapen. I had felt pity,yes, but I had looked the other way, hurried by, unwilling to acknowledge them. And now, here I was, bent, misshapen in body and, if I dare admit it, in spirit too. My view of the world, of life, had shrunk to ground level. I no longer looked up to the sky, to the sun, to people's eyes. It was too painful, in more ways than one. I still went to the synagogue. I still hoped, longed, for relief; for forgiveness; for healing; for an answer, but none came. And then that day... I was there in my usual place alone, physically and spiritually. No-one wanted to be near me, not even God. Then suddenly there was silence, an expectant hush all around. I raised my eyes as far as I could and I saw everyone looking at me. I froze. Then I heard a voice calling me to come; calling me with authority but calling with love and I moved. How I got to him I can't remember; nor how long it took me but nothing was going to stop me; not the overwhelming silence; not the people's stares; not the waves of disgust, hostility. Nothing. I heard his voice again - Woman, you are set free. I felt his hands touch me and fire spread through my whole body, through my mind, through my spirit. I straightened up and I looked at him. I looked straight at him. I looked straight into his eyes and I praised God. Oh how I praised God. c Kathleen Wilks

Set your Spirit Free

My child,
My children,
you are so beautifully;
so wonderfully made;
body,
mind
and spirit
in equal measure.
And yet it grieves Me
that the spirit
is so often
locked away
in a little corner,
forgotten;
ignored;
quashed
by the mightier forces
of body and mind;
brought out
on rare occasions
as if ‘to perform’.
But the spirit
is gentle.
It does not push.
It does not seek
to dominate;
to override.
It needs time.
It needs space.
It needs encouragement
from the body and mind
for it to flourish.
So, My child,
My children,
I ask you now
to let your Spirit
fly free.
Give it time.
Give it space.
Give it encouragement
to develop.
Do not let the body
crush it with restlessness.
Do not let the mind
override it with other thoughts.
Let it be.
Let it sing through your lips.
Let it speak through your mouth.
Let it hear through your ears.
Let it love through your heart.
Let it grow
in knowledge
and in truth
through your mind.
It will grow strong
if you nurture it;
strong enough
to carry you on eagles’ wings
to the very gates of heaven
where I dwell.
And there you will begin to know Me;
begin to know as you are known;
and you will never want to look back.
My child,
My children,
I urge you now
to set your spirit free.

© Kathleen Wilks

To Be

My child,
you are frustrated
because you cannot ‘do’.
But
you are missing
one of my greatest gifts -
time.
So many of My children
long for
this gift.
They rush around
filling all their day
with ‘doing’.
They are tired and weary
and they wonder
where I am;
why they cannot find Me;
why they cannot know Me;
why they cannot see Me;
get in touch with Me.
I want My children to ‘be’.
Just
to ‘be’
first of all.,
and then
to ‘do’.
I want My children
to spend time with Me;
to get to know Me;
to share with Me;
to speak;
to be silent;
to love;
to ‘be’
in My presence.
This is the greatest thing
I ask of you at present,
My child.
As
a mother and her child
enjoy
a time of togetherness;
a time of talking and sharing;
of question and answer;
of discussion,
within a framework of love;
So, My child,
do I long
to have such a time
with you.
A time apart
when you are not rushing;
when your mind is still
and you can hear Me;
when your eyes are not darting here and there
and you can see me.
And so I wait
each day
for this time;
longing
for you to come,
My precious child.

© Kathleen Wilks

Pilate


It was so easy
to be brutal.
Everyone understood
brutality.
It was what made the world run.
It was what kept us in power.
(where we deserved to be.)
No-one got anywhere
by being ‘soft’.
There was no doubt
that we were superior.
But ‘they’ didn’t think so.
‘They’ had such a high opinion
of themselves.
‘They’ looked down their noses
at us.
‘They’ claimed to be
The Chosen Race.
Huh!
We,
I, would sort them out.
I would put a stop
to this attitude.
I would win.
I would show them
who was boss.
Any wrong-doing;
any transgression
and they would pay.
Like I said -
everyone understood
brutality.
And then I heard of
this man;
this preacher
who was gaining disciples.
He intrigued me.
For a start
he didn’t condone violence.
And, if that was true,
he couldn’t possibly be a threat
to me,
could he?
I couldn’t fathom
his game plan.
And what was more intriguing,
his own leaders
had turned against him.
Well,
let them deal with him,
and then the problem,
if there was a problem,
would be solved.
I was not going to lose sleep over it.
But then,
quite out of the blue,
the ‘problem’
was put firmly in my lap.
To keep the peace
I agreed to meet ‘them’.
And that is how I came face to face
with this man;
the ‘problem’.
Anyone less like a troublemaker
would have been hard to find.
Amidst all the anger;
the hatred,
he just stood there.
He was calm.
He didn’t seem overawed.
He wasn’t rebellious.
He was an enigma
and, despite myself,
I wanted to find out more.
So I questioned him.
I challenged him.
I gave him every opportunity
to defend himself.
I think I wanted him
to defend himself;
to plead with me;
to beg.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there
looking at me;
looking into me even.
It made me uncomfortable.
But,
as I reminded myself,
I was in charge.
I am in charge.
I have the power
and
I will use it.



© Kathleen Wilks

Pilate

It was so easy
to be brutal.
Everyone understood
brutality.
It was what made the world run.
It was what kept us in power.
(where we deserved to be.)
No-one got anywhere
by being ‘soft’.
There was no doubt
that we were superior.
But ‘they’ didn’t think so.
‘They’ had such a high opinion
of themselves.
‘They’ looked down their noses
at us.
‘They’ claimed to be
The Chosen Race.
Huh!
We,
I, would sort them out.
I would put a stop
to this attitude.
I would win.
I would show them
who was boss.
Any wrong-doing;
any transgression
and they would pay.
Like I said -
everyone understood
brutality.
And then I heard of
this man;
this preacher
who was gaining disciples.
He intrigued me.
For a start
he didn’t condone violence.
And, if that was true,
he couldn’t possibly be a threat
to me,
could he?
I couldn’t fathom
his game plan.
And what was more intriguing,
his own leaders
had turned against him.
Well,
let them deal with him,
and then the problem,
if there was a problem,
would be solved.
I was not going to lose sleep over it.
But then,
quite out of the blue,
the ‘problem’
was put firmly in my lap.
To keep the peace
I agreed to meet ‘them’.
And that is how I came face to face
with this man;
the ‘problem’.
Anyone less like a troublemaker
would have been hard to find.
Amidst all the anger;
the hatred,
he just stood there.
He was calm.
He didn’t seem overawed.
He wasn’t rebellious.
He was an enigma
and, despite myself,
I wanted to find out more.
So I questioned him.
I challenged him.
I gave him every opportunity
to defend himself.
I think I wanted him
to defend himself;
to plead with me;
to beg.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there
looking at me;
looking into me even.
It made me uncomfortable.
But,
as I reminded myself,
I was in charge.
I am in charge.
I have the power
and
I will use it.

© Kathleen Wilks

Judas

I thought he was a man
after my own heart -
a rebel-rouser;
a crusader;
a man I could look up to;
a leader I could follow.
He had it all -
charisma;
oratory;
people skills.
Yes.
He was the man.
He could lead us
to victory.
So
I joined his group.
I became his disciple.
I watched
and
I waited
with increasing anticipation.
I could see his strategy,
his plans.
To be sure,
they weren’t the same old
tried and tested plans
but, then again,
these old plans had failed.
Something new was needed.
He saw that
and I admired him for it.
I didn’t quite see
how it would all work
but
he seemed to know what he was doing.
He seemed to have the confidence.
You should have seen
how he stood up
to the Pharisees;
to the Sadducees;
to the Teachers of the Law.
Wow.
This was revolution.
This was exciting.
First the Church.
Next the Romans.
Then the world…
I so wanted to be part of it
and
I was.
So what,
I kept a little money
for myself.
Just insurance.
Just for a rainy day.
One had to be prepared.
One had to look after Number One.
That was always the first rule;
Always understood.
And anyway
the others didn’t seem to object.
At least, they never mentioned it if they did.
And then
he started talking
about going to Jerusalem.
There was a new determination in him
and I knew
this was it -
the climax;
the beginning.
A new world beckoned.
The atmosphere became
tense;
apprehensive
but
exciting.
We entered Jerusalem
and
all the people rose up
shouting;
singing
Hosanna;
Hallelujah…
Yes,
this was it.
Onwards
and upwards.
But then
it all changed.
He started going on
about dying;
about death.
Had he lost the will to fight?
Had his courage failed him?
Had he admitted defeat
even before he had tried?
No.
No, no, no!
He couldn’t stop now.
I wouldn’t let him.
He needed spurring on.
He needed provoking.
He needed stirring into action
one last time.
I thought of a plan.
Who were his worst critics?
Who hated him most?
- the Chief Priests.
I would go to them.
That would make him fight.
Surely,
that would make him rise up.
I will go tonight.

© Kathleen Wilks

Let Me help

You are all
such little children
and
I love you.
I love you so much more
than you can understand;
so much more
than you can grasp.
Whenever I see you
hurting,
afraid,
upset,
lost
My heart goes out
to you.
I am standing before you now
hoping,
longing
for you to run
to Me
for comfort,
for strength,
for guidance,
for love.
But
you do not come.
You turn away.
Still
I stand before you
longing
for you to let Me
embrace you,
hold you,
until
the anger,
the pain,
the sadness
subsides.
O My children,
My child,
will you let Me
hold you?
Will you let Me
help you?
I am standing before you now.
I am only
a word,
a whisper,
a heartbeat
away.
My heart is breaking
as I see you
curled up
into yourself.
My children,
My child,
I am standing before you now,
with open arms,
waiting.

c Kathleen Wilks

Christmas

Come.
Come to the stable
and
see My Son.
Do not stand
at the entrance.
Come in.
Come among Us.
Join Us.
Join in
Our celebrations.
This is
My Son,
born today.
He is
My Gift
to the world;
My Gift
to My people;
My Gift
to you.
He is
everything
to Me;
He is
part
of Me;
He is
Me.
And
I give Him
to you.
Do what you will
with Him;
love Him,
hate Him,
despise Him,
ignore Him.
It is your choice.

My longing
is that you choose
to love Him;
to cherish Him;
to bind yourself to Him
for in so doing
this will bring you
more
than you could ever dream of;
joy,
such joy;
peace,
such peace;
love,
such love
as you have never known.
He is
My Gift
to you
today
and
I wait for your response.
Will you
accept My Gift?
Will you
accept Him?


© Kathleen Wilks

God's Gift

Come
and see
the Gift
I have
for you.

I know
you think
that I don’t care;
that I have forgotten you,
but
you are wrong,
so wrong.
I will show you
just how deep
My love is
for you.
For now
the time is right
for it to be
revealed.

Come
with Me,
My child,
and let Me show you
how much
I care;
how much
I love you.

It is dark
on the way
but
I will guide you.
Just trust
Me
and soon you will see
light.
Then,
when your eyes
become accustomed
to this light
you will see
My Gift
to you,
My child…

Can you see
Him,
lying there
in His mother’s arms?
so small;
so helpless;
so vulnerable,
and yet
this;
this
is My Son,
My beloved Son.
He is so like
Me;
so like Me
that
He
is
Me.

Go on,
do not be afraid,
reach out and
touch Me.
Give Me
your hand
and feel
how I respond.
Open your arms
to receive
Me.
Hold Me close.
Look into My face.
Look into My eyes.
Look hard;
look long;
look deep.
Let Me see
all your doubts,
all your fears
disappear.
Keep looking.
My gaze
will not waver
until I see
the light
of understanding
in your eyes;
until I see
My love for you
returned.

And hold Me.
Hold Me tightly
to your heart.
Do not let go
until
I have felt it melt;
until
I know that it is Mine;
until
you know that we are
forever joined;
forever one.

Stay.
stay in this place
until you know
beyond any shadow of doubt
that
this is My Gift;
My Gift
to you,
to say
I love you.

© Kathleen Wilks

Valued

My child,
I will
use you
in ways that
will bring joy
to you;
to Me;
to others.
Why do you doubt
that I will do this?
There is such need
in the world;
such need.
The harvest is ripe.
The harvest is plentiful
but the labourers;
My labourers
are few.
Why would you think
I would not use
you?
It may not be
in ways you
expect;
understand;
even
are aware of
but
you are so much
a part
of My plan
that it would be
incomplete
without you.
My child,
why would you ever think
you were
not needed;
not valued?
In My kingdom
all are needed;
all are valued;
all are precious
beyond price.
My Son
died for you.
Is that not enough
to convince you
of your worth
to Me?
Relax.
Do not strive.
Seek only
to stay close
to Me
and
let Me
work in you
and through you.
I have used you
in ways you may never know.
I am using you
now
and
I will use you
in the future
if you stay close
to Me.
Let My words
flow through you
and
they will not return to Me
empty.
My child,
just be yourself;
be the person I created
and
do not doubt.


© Kathleen Wilks