I have known the desperate song of Hannah within my bones. A supplication for a womb, to be filled. To be remembered, if only once, by the One Who calls the barren to life. And every day, within your eyes, I see that I was always seen. And you, were always there. Waiting for just... Continue Reading →
Psalm 23.
Here, in this field of peace I hear You. Singing a love song over all my fears. I have never known want, because You. Are. Enough. And, when darkness falls fiercely across my faith and all I can give is this heart, unreconciled to hope. Still. You. Hold me. Wrapped, in grace, I am. What... Continue Reading →
Supplication.
I stand, hands overflowing with ashes and not much else, but I am praying life into your dry bones. This mustard seed song is heaven’s work. — Supplication. My heart, tonight, as I stand before the One who breathes life into dry bones, believing for the healing of someone whom I love very much.
Give us this day.
Hands in warm water I stand on holy ground, rinsing away evidence of our cup running over. It is a worship, unadorned. — Give us this day.
Unhurried.
This fluid gold light from sun calling it a day. Spilling over lists still left undone. A respite from a life driven. I pick slow moments weighing each one, carefully inhaling the heady fragrance of slow. — Unhurried.
Love(d) relentlessly.
This perpetual returning. Of me. To You. It is a relentless love. — Love(d) relentlessly.
Conversations with my brother. (On the eve of).
And so, the storm came for you. Bent, from the spirit down all the way to your fears. You stood, as wave after wave sucked the air from your lungs. A new birth; in reverse. But, I have come to plant seeds in that diagnosis. Hope. Tender, fragile, indissoluble hope. Is a giver of life,... Continue Reading →
Metamorphosis.
This, deliberate u n r a v e l l i n g will be the birth of me. — Metamorphosis.
Let her sing over your fears.
And, even when this life is threadbare; edges frayed from worry. The earth still sings a lullaby over all those who listen for her beauty. — Let her sing over your fears. . . . When my heart is full and worry tries to rob me of peace, I look for the beauty all around... Continue Reading →
Nascense.
Hope, is a tender womb quietly nurturing all that is nascent, yet still unseen within me. — Nascense.
