Take me up
in arms of love
Metaphysically shove
me out of my
too-worldly self
Take my heart
off of the shelf
Dust it off
Polish the core
Breathe out a
desire for more
of You. The muscle
meant to house
the Lord of Lords
lets in a louse
more often than
I would prefer.
You know this.
And still You stir
within me a
desire to see
who You have
made me to be.
I love You.
You know this.
Hold me close
and gently kiss
this broken vessel
beat by beat
when I succumb
to defeat.
Take my life,
take everything
due to You,
Beloved King.

Daughter, you are enough.
I did not make you with
overabundance or deficiency.
Why do you treat yourself
like you're too much?
Why do you tell yourself
you're not sufficient?

You, who buried yourself
in anger, in loathing,
in misguided insecurities:
I am drawing you out
like a shoot from the earth.
Be patient. Be present.
You're still growing into
the darling flower you are meant to be.
You burst forth in colorful laughter,
in song and in dance,
painting the world with your presence.
Your body stretches toward the sky,
reaching for the Son with everything you have.
A mouthful of crooked teeth
is all the more beautiful
as you bask in the glory of existence.

My wildflower,
I did not create you to uproot yourself,
to hide under the moss or the shrub.
I made your form bold and stark,
unmistakable in My garden.
I made you a captivating blossom,
meant to flourish under My touch.

So dance in the wind.
Sing to the heavens.
Laugh with the birds and the beasts,
for you are Mine.
You are cherished.
You are enough.

Like

a fallen leaf

a ripple in the ocean

a grain of sand blown by the wind

a snowflake among millions

I do not know where I'm going to end up

or what to expect

all I can do

is go where the wind blows me

the current flows me

and deal with whatever comes my way

on my own.

Lord, why am I not satisfied?
Why do I seek on earth
what You have promised I'll find above?
Is it because he's beautiful?
Is it because I hear his voice,
and not Yours?
Is it because I've seen his love for children,
even though you've claimed all humanity as Your Own?

Why do I want him, and not You?

Why can I not tear my eyes away
when I know I could be missing You?
Even if he were mine,
I wouldn't be loved perfectly.
A part of me would still be empty
because he's just a man.
A beautiful, loving, wonderful man,
but a man all the same.

I've asked You to take my heart,
my desires, my thirst for his love
and throw it away
unless You want this to be.
But does my desire to be fulfilled
block Your access to my heart?
Does my wish that these feelings
are meant to be in place
deafen me to Your call?

Lord, my beloved, my all in all,
You are what I crave.
You are the one I desire.
I can't say, “I don't want You enough,”
because it's a lie from the pits below.
But I do guard myself from Your love.
I hide behind my lofty dreams
when You want to carry me above them.

I don't know Your plans.
You may want us to unite.
You may want me for Your Own.
You may have someone entirely
different set aside for me to love.
I want to want what You want for me.
Guide me through the garden.
Walk with me through the valley.
I believe;
now help me to be satisfied.

Stare into the gray.

Watch as I grow, billow, and loom over all.
Drown in the depths of me,
for I am an ocean pregnant with precipitation.
See the stark contrast between the green of the world
and the enormity of my existence.

Stare into the gray, for I am he.


Stare into the red.

See how I do not demand,
do not obscure, though I once reigned.
Follow the streamline of my form
splayed on the horizon,
for I am waning in my brilliance.
Feel the warmth I still exude
even as darker hues force me aside.

Stare into the red, for I am she.

I lay on the concrete,
knuckles scratched from adjusting my shirt to shield my belly from the wind
But it's beautiful.
Laying here
with just enough sun and shade
Headphones in
yet the only surround sound needed
is the gentle roar of the wind in the trees
They shout, they clamour, they dance
then peter off into a whisper before unleashing another cry of life.

I turn
In my fetal position I see a squirrel
I didn't know they could lay that still: lifeless fur sprawled on the wood.
No; he instead is the epitome of life
Nestled in a branch
Sun bathing his tiny back
I see his breathing
Slow, at peace, serene.
I didn't know they could lay that still.
I watch through the branches of dancing green
We lay together,
taking a well-deserved break
For a moment, our life-activity is on hold.
We take You in as we take in the day.
When he sits up, he is still at rest.
When he scratches and bathes, he is still at rest.
Even his walk down the trunk is leisurely.
Lackadaisical squirrel,
I want to live like you.
If I lay on this concrete long enough,
perhaps I'll embrace the world with no fear as well.

You know what *****?
The fact that I know I'm objectifying you.
I'm fully aware.
In my mind and in my heart
I've treated you poorly.
I feel myself craving a kiss,
a sigh,
a stolen moment of intimacy.
I find myself desiring your gaze,
your attention,
your requited longing.
But all I've stolen is your humanity.
All I've taken is your image,
the idea of you,
and turned you into a toy.
I've projected my physical and emotional deficiencies
onto what little love we share.
I'm sorry.
You're my friend.
You're my brother.
You deserve more
than to be lusted after.
You deserve more
than to become the target of my misguided desires.
You deserve more
than what I've been doing to you
and I'm sorry.

You can't hear a footprint.
A mossy indentation in the earth
leaves no sound
yet you know something passed by

You can't hear a footprint
yet I see them all around
I can't grasp the entirety of You through the sole
but Your enormity is evident

You can't hear a footprint
yet I hear the leaves crunch
as legions of squirrels run for cover
The trees rustling
with every whispered breeze
The screech of robins-
two, three, four-
squared off with every other creature
battling for dominion

You can't hear a footprint
but I'll follow the ones I can find
in hopes of reaching You
wherever You've led me
I can't hold Your hand
yet I take comfort in letting my foot
fall where Yours once tread

You can't hear a footprint
but maybe I'll hear You
someday.

Feeling the impact
of hard things
doesn't make me
a failure.

I
am not
the Savior.

I am a beggar
showing other beggars
where to find bread.

It's their choice to eat.

Our minds write
in two
differet genres
but darling,
let's make a
masterpiece.

Your eyes are happy now.

I remember the first time
I peered through the window--
the shutters only half-open,
guarded from the newcomer
yet aware that you should
show some lifelight.
Cut sideways,
hardened steel
saw only what could be
cheaply afforded
in the exchange.

But slowly, eventually,
you widened the curtain
and peered out across the way
to see me standing sentinel--
You said hello.
Now the steel melts to snow
turns to pools of laughter
Even in the melancholy
you never shut the door.
I said hello.

Many a day
have led me to your door,
your window,
your eyes.
Tap the glass--
are you home?
I pray the answer
is never "no."