Soulful Sojourns

In my travels across Turkey last spring, Topkapi Palace seared itself into my heart and remains the climax of my time there.  The lush gardens dripping with roses, crimson velvet cushioned bay windows overlooking the Bosphorus, and rococo styled hidden chambers were like an overindulged dream.  The myriad golden fireplaces with gilded hoods, cabinetry embedded with emerald, ruby and nacre gems, ornately carved wooden doors imbued with golden latches and hinges and Iznik tiles saturated in blues, ivories and coral reds sang in unparalleled extravagance. Domed ceilings adorned with azure and gold laced mosaics, stained glass of peacock’s colors, decorative stone pathways, and marble sinks with echoes of watery songs were mind stretching.

As enraptured as I am by Topkapi Palace, I'm equally enthralled by the gazelle.  With her gentle demeanor, endless legs, sculpted ringed horns and prominent black and white torso, it’s no wonder that her name is taken from the Arabic word “ghazalah”, meaning “a lyrical poem”. Though not always capable of outrunning her predators, she has been known to leap over her enemies with grand jetes’ of graceful agility.  Even in escape she is lovely. 

The gazelle, revered as she was by the Persians, was permitted to roam and graze in the sultan’s private gardens along with the peacock. She grazed in the lavish Topkapi palace safe from predators and surrounded by extravagance.

In my sojourns in Turkey I felt like a gazelle permitted to roam in exotic places.   From the tantalizing tastes of the seductive malta plum and the impossibly tender lamb kebab, to the soul stirring ancient wonders, from the mouth watering aromas of street vendors’ toasted chestnuts, to the Turkish tea which flowed freely on the streets, from the sonorous calls to prayer to the beautiful Turks themselves and their willingness to indulge my need to practice their language, something in me was awakened.  My sojourn in Turkey called out the colors of my heart.

I read once that to be sensuous is to be present to your own soul.  How I long to awaken to my soul on a daily basis, to be a lyrical poem that tells His greater story, to dance in the way God has crafted me to dance, to be graceful, dignified and gentle, to graze in His gardens with springs that never run dry,  and to learn how to leap over my predators with grace and agility.

Father, thank You that You are  the author of all that is lush, extravagant and precious.  You are the color Creator and You reside in the Light. You created cinnamon and calamus, cumin and cloves.  Lion of Judah, I’m so thankful You are stronger than my strongest predator, yet You browse among the lilies and long to be with me.  Ancient of Days, write Your story through me and make sure it's colorful!