A Christmas Story

a young woman
a man
a donkey
and a very long ride

a stable
some straw, a mouse perhaps…

what’s going on

a trough
a cow
some sheep
and a quiet, sleeping baby

a woman
a man
trying to get some sleep
well… maybe

a star
some shepherds
some gifts
and a few traveling kings
gathered around
a baby born
to save the world

of all things

One God
as the Son,
came from heaven
to earth
to reign
heaven rejoiced
angels sang
over this precious baby’s
miraculous birth
and again
and again

A Perfectly Imperfect Beautiful

having some inspiration today

while realizing

why I don’t act on my inspirations

my inspirations,
once again –
too many times again –
are left unattended to

and I feel myself going down

I sit down to write
all I feel is the numb

a feeling that I am empty
in need of direction
and no where to turn
no sign to tell me left or right

is it because I’m supposed to keep straight on?
and, is straight on taking me in the right direction?
am I getting deeper into despair or closer to healing?

I cry out
and it seems as if there is silence in the outcry
all around
deep within
there is nothing but silence within the silence

and trying to maintain that Jesus word for my New Year’s life
I fear I’ll forget
can I inch closer to the joy if the forgetting masters my mind?

I turn to His Word

He will protect –
that includes the rampant thoughts
which seek to destroy my sanity

that which seeks to take what I know to be true
and turn it into doubt

I want to be good
knowing perfection is unattainable

righteous in the sight of God
beautiful from the inside out

He loves the righteous
Mary was righteous
Abraham was righteous

and good

not perfect

beautiful in His sight

“It doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.”

the sign spoke of a home
a place where comfort and warmth exist
love and forgiveness is poured freely upon the broken
a place where forgiveness was established

practiced in a place where joy eminates even in the dark

if my heart is Christ’s home –
the very cause for the beating of my heart
the very reason for my passion to live
and reside and breathe


though I am not perfect
i am beautiful


He has made me beautiful

and brought the comfort, the warmth
the love and the forgiveness and the peace
when He moved in, unpacked,
and Joy awakened my soul

not perfect –

so very not perfect

but focused on His presence
drinking in His forgiveness
dwelling in His comfort

resting in His peace

focused on Him,

who keeps me walking straight

not turning to the left
not turning to the right
not being perfect

but keeping straight on

not perfect

but beautiful

Broken for Good

To trust God in the light is nothing,

but to trust Him in the dark –

that is faith.

Charles Spurgeon

I intervene for those who are hurting.

Those who are surrounded by a darkness
only they are able to see.
A darkness that calls out their name
and then leaves laughing as they come.
Leaves them in despair,
mocking them for believing the truth
that can save them.

I intervene for their well-being.
Their light.
Their life.
And then I see them.
I hear them.
They are the Promises.
Promises of truth when life gets messy
and we get dirty.
Promises made to a broken and hurting world.

I see a vessel.
Shaped much like myself
and cracked.
Like me.
A vessel that must be broken
in order to be used.
To be useful.
Without the brokenness,
the light can’t get in
and the light cannot get out.
Without the brokenness
there is no story
for there is nothing to tell.
Without the brokenness
there is nothing to share.
There is no understanding.
There is no comfort
in tears shared together.
Darkness permeates the vessel,
where storms rage
and the enemy attacks.

Hope seems lost.
But remember –
oh how we must not forget –
the vessel is broken.
and light does get through the cracks.
It comes in
before it goes back out.
It fills the inside
with warmth
and power.
The glory of His light spills out.
The shadows flee.
Hope triumphs.
A prisoner is set free.


IMG_9910.JPGI am so grateful for life.  Life is hard – so very hard – but I am thankful for life.  Little things can make it so worth the pain…

a little smile when the day has been long
or a soft but definite ‘hello’ when you’re feeling alone

a helpful hand when you’re tired
a glass of water when you’re thirsty

a drop of rain on a very hot day
or a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day

a plate of cookies when you think you’ve been forgotten
a bouquet of flowers left on your doorstep

a remembrance of your favorite verse at just the right time
and the sound of a child’s innocent giggle

the sound of a river rushing to the ocean
or a creek as it finds its way through the hills

the feeling inside when you finally finish
and the excitement of finally beginning

the shapes and colors of each different rose
and the thorns that protect each one

the way a caterpillar waddles up a stem
curls up tight and comes out a beautiful butterfly

a father playing with his children
and enjoying it more than his children

Isn’t it funny how life seems so hard and yet, when you dwell on the good things, life is still hard but it isn’t so overwhelming, after all?

When the Lies are Louder


i hear the truth
that the truth will set me free
and in the midst of truth
a noise raises it’s voice
and beckons me

to come

come believe its clamour
by its pounding of a steady, mezmerizing beat
a beat that lures my heart
that lures my mind
to recurring, nightmarish defeat

it screams
that i am unworthy
it screams
that i am unfit
that i am a non-purposed being
serving no purpose
in a purposeless life
and i’m sinking further and further
into a despairingly deep, dark pit

but then i remember
what i should never have forgetten
and what i should never, ever forget
that i am a child of God
a daughter of the King
a bride to the Bridegroom
and He isn’t done with me yet

He speaks softly to my spirit
His words are balm
to my aching heart
He is gentle, full of mercy and grace
His words are for building me up
not for tearing me apart

but so often the lies are louder
which can make them easier to believe
but isn’t that just like a lie,
making ready to deceive?

it will scream, it will holler
it will do what it must do
to vie for my attention
turn my faith to fright
and my hope to heartache –
do anything –
to take my eyes off of You

so Father
when i am overcome
by the sounds
that are not heaven’s voice
when i am overwhelmed
by the clamour of this present world
when the lies disguise themselves as truth
causing despair to seem my only choice

when the lies that say i am worthless
and I make a choice to believe the lies
lead me to the Rock
that stands
so much higher than I

the Rock that is the way
the Rock that is truth
the only Rock, the solid Rock
the Rock that is my life