My Tent

I wrote this blog on my phone a day ago. My blog got lost in translation so I am writing it again. I feel it will not be written as well. I feel that writing is at its best when it follows revelation and inspiration. My revelation today is not as fresh. But it is more fresh then it will be tomorrow. So here I go, I recreate.

‘The Tent is made of paper’ is a string of words I encountered from a fellow blogger who writes ‘wewantedtheirwings’. These six words led me to Margaret Atwood’s writing ‘The Tent’.

Just like Margaret Atwood, I have a tent. My tent is set up on the bottom slope of a moutain. My tent is made of paper. It is cracked. It is torn. The tent has holes. It has roughed the journey of a mountain climb. And to me, this is some sort of home.

In Genesis, man becomes a wanderer. Man is now a gypsy, a pilgrim, a nomad. And since then we have been looking for a place to call home.

Jamie Buckingham writes that “foxes have holes and birds have nests but the true man has no place to rest his head but the bosom of the Father.”

Our home is heaven, our tent is where we live now. It is a place from where we hear God and listen for when to pack up and move.

When I was living in France, the idea of the temporary home really ‘hit home’ for me. My time in France was temporary. I awaited seeing my family in Australia with great expectation. And just the same I enjoy my time here on earth as I wait expectantly to see my family in heaven.

Hebrews 11.13 talks about the heroes of faith who were “strangers and exiles on this earth.” They are/were pilgrims, wanderers in a strange place; desiring a better country, a heavenly home.

This is what we know may call ourselves, strangers and pilgrims who journey towards home.

Jon Foreman writes; “Oh, I’m a wandering soul, I’m still walking a line that leads me home. Alone, I’ll I know; still got mountains to climb on my own.”

And as I look over from my sloped tent of paper; I see a light that I journey towards.

Beth Noble explained to me that the time to move is now. She told me a vision where someone reaches the bottom of a mountain in the dead of winter. They want to stop and make camp. Its freezing, they’re cold and tired. But the person in this picture needs to keep moving. They need to move forward now before the frozen-over lake at the bottom of the mountain would melt. If the person did not move now, they would have to travel the long way, around the lake, though it may be spring. The light on the next mountain where the person is heading would take longer to reach.

So for now I have my tent. And I move it from season to season. I walk the line; I climb the mountain that I know I need to climb on my own. In the dead of winter, I dream. I walk across the frozen lake, pitching my tent by night. In the dead of winter, I see. I see life and beauty and spring and a guided path to the next pitstop; the light on the next mountain.

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8 Comments

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8 responses to “My Tent

  1. millie grace

    incredibly, beautifully, wonderfully, remarkably written!

    “In the dead of winter, I dream” how precious.

    could read you forever!x

  2. i really like this. so well written. beautiful and fresh. just like you 🙂

  3. em, so this is so weird but let’s run with it. I’m about to zonk out in bed…big day tomorrow, ask sam or your mum is you’re interested…BUT, i think you’re amazing & i love your writing & i’m so glad you discovered the tent! isn’t it amazing?!

    i haven’t read this whole entry yet, because i have about ten minutes until the drugs kick in & i still need to do teeth etc etc (oh gosh, like you need to know all this stuff! haha) but i will read tomorrow.

    for now, thank you for your lovely jacket. i wear it on sad days that require cheering up. if you are ever in need of it back, just yell. it can be the sisterhood of the traveling jacket.

    night night.
    love katie xx

    • emma

      Oh thats so cool. yeah i loved your tent name and mum showed me margaret atwood’s writing: the tent.
      i love it. so much great imagery. it is like a wonderful allegory.
      I should read more of what she writes.
      love love xx

      • ok, so millie & i were chatting last night, & we’ve enlisted you & sam in this little project of, well, epic proportions….when i’m out of hospital, let’s MAKE a tent made of paper. what do you say? millie says you have a flat patch in your backyard. we could maybe even use scraps of material to make it look pretty….& then we can have a picnic in it. either that or i have wayyyyy too much time on my hands & being in hospital this long as turned my brain to mush.

        what do you think?
        love katie xx

      • emma

        What a great idea!

  4. Pingback: the tent is back up | running with balloons

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