Waiting WIth Silence

Have you ever been lost? Not sure where to go next? I’m there, and it is honestly the most frightening feeling. It’s the moments when I almost feel close to having an answer, just to be cast down into that lovely pit of fear abd wondering. I’ve heard that at rock bottom is where Jesus is found. So far, I’m getting a ton of silence.

Maybe it’s because I’m not praying hard enough, Maybe it’s because I’m not coming up with the right words. Not asking the right way. Or the fact that I’m simply tired and am running on very little faith.

And there is where the problem lies: in the negative thoughts that keep me from listening to what He has never stopped telling me. That He loves me unconditionally and there isn’t a moment where He isn’t working out everything, to bring me, and everyone who follows Him into peace.

For His glory.

I have been questioning this a lot lately. Am I doing what You need me to do? Am I doing it with a smile on my face and love in my heart for You? Truth of the matter is I don’t know what exactly my calling is but when there is music and writing involved there is You. Not that I know how to write music, but lyrics, I’m working on breaking into.

What about the money? You won’t survive if that’s path you’re following. And that’s all I’ve been told about my writing. It isn’t going to make me a decent living. In all honesty I’ve told people, I’d rather be broke than have a decent living. Isn’t that what Jesus did? He was basically homeless, asking for people to let Him into their life. There was no fancy car, house, TV. There was just Jesus and His disciples breaking bread. Simplicity.

Life isn’t like that though. Too many things are screaming for our attention. Facebook. Pinterest. TV. Music. The list goes on.. How His voice easily gets discarded. We shouldn’t have to be in a hurry to figure everything out, especially on our own. Even in this confusing time I’ve been told: only you can figure this out. Inside though, I’m pleading with Jesus not to leave me alone. I know He won’t.

He won’t leave you alone either. We just have to be still and know that He is God.

Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”
(Psalm 46:10)

Weakness Anyone?

One morning you awake, rub the sleep out of your eyes, put your slippers on, and make your way to eat a wholesome breakfast. Apples, toast, and water. You know, something healthy to keep the body sustained. Nourished. All the while, you are trying to keep composure. Yes, to turn your head slightly, so that you not only hear, but also see what is missing from you.

And there you are: a deer in the headlights. Watching the brightest lights you’ve ever seen. First, far off in the distance. Slowly inching closer and closer. You are frozen by fear, but just can’t help to be taken, subdued even, by it’s oncoming beauty. Oh, how your eyelids can’t protect you from such an insesscant beckoning. Death is never far from such wandering, but there can be severe consequence in the ‘light’ that is blinding.

Who here has given into comparison? I don’t just mean the daily, “Should I wear this blue shirt, or this pink one?” “Should I buy this song, or save my money to achieve a higher fortune? Or, one of the more popular ones I’ve heard on TV, “Should I eat this decadent, delicious brownie with enough calories to possibly put me over the limit of 1.000 and some I’ve set for myself, or continue to follow the path to a more ‘slimmer, healthier looking you’?” I always want the brownie to win, by the way. I can’t help that it is one of my many weaknesses. Other than the fact I feel my walking is the biggest of these, if you place any type of chocolate in front of me, it takes all I have in me not to go at it, like an untamed animal. (Even if said untamed animal takes 45 minutes to eat maybe half of the chocolate-y pieces of cake for her birthday…) Okay, I do have self control in this area, I only wish I could be like an animal in this way. Foolish? Yes, yes it is..

The point I’m trying to make is about the comparisons you battle with the people around you. The ones where you come out a victim of the Enemy’s very careful and cunning scheme. Even as I write this now, I can feel the Enemy trying to get me to avoid speaking truth that could not only heal myself, but someone else struggling with the same thing. You know what? I’m going to say it anyway: I compare myself with others each and every day.

It’s in the Facebook statuses of family and friends. I am constantly taunted by a tiny voice that says, “See, Julia, you’ll never get to places like that. She’s smarter than you. I mean, why in the world is she friends with YOU!? Seriously. You know it’s just pity, right? Any of them, friends/family are giving you a false sense of love. What are you doing believing them anyway? You’ve already been hurt. ebbed away. left. You’re just setting yourself again.

It’s in the people I see on TV. With the perfect hair. The perfect smile. The way they can have a conversation with someone, and all you can hear is perfection. No flaws. No mistakes. Confidence. Eloquent speech. It’s the same with every band/musician I like. (I had previously written ‘follow’ instead of ‘like’ in the previous sentence..did I mention that I struggle with idolization?)

It’s easy to fall into a constant trap like this. Believe me, I know. May I offer some hope.

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 13:8)

Weakness is perfected when we let His love take it’s place.

Who’s up for a journey & discovery in finding Jesus with me?

Here I am

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. (Isaiah 53:7)

Jesus died for me.

Quietly. Carrying all my burdens, grief, doubts, fears knowing the days I would turn away, hide, and bury everything away. He knew how fear cripples me way beyond my disability. How when you look in the mirror, you can’t help the thoughts. “You made me with a purpose, but I can’t see anything other than a broken body.” How silence is more of a safety net because your mind is so full of thoughts you can’t say. The pain you would carry. to let yourself be someone strength because they need a reason to keep going, and hey, your smile, and a slew of hugs will make everything okay.

It doesn’t. No matter how many nights you spend in sadness and fear, running to Jesus asking, “Why? I’m so afraid, Where are You?” Silence for every question. So, you turn to poetry. It was always easier to communicate everything you never could/should say. Anything really. Yet, you’re still afraid, but you need someone to hear. Somewhere to run away. Maybe they will understand. Maybe you’ll encourage someone. What you get though: Your poetry is so amazing and lovey! You have such a way with words! For the first time, it’s as if you’re getting the freshest cups of water to drink, but still whispers in the night tell you: you are full of unworthy, why else would you be so afraid of the dark?

This is good for you. You have an escape, you can be yourself finally. Until one day, that cool drink of water becomes a silent craving for you. It follows you. Always hiding out in your thoughts. People may actually like you. And on top of it, respond to what you have to say. There is no look to cut you up inside, to make you wither like a flower not yet ready to plucked from the safety of where the roots have been growing. There is nothing to stunt you anymore. But honestly there is, you have just become really well at hiding.

Words are still so hard to find. What can you expect when all your life your voice wasn’t worth anyone finding? That’s what you told yourself. And that’s what you still do. When you talk, everyone seems so far from you. Some look at you and whisper, you don’t have to change anything about you.

In your mind: you’re most likely not comparing yourself to me as I am to you, and it doesn’t feel like it’s killing you.


Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them.” (Ecclesiastes 12:1 ESV)

Too soon.
I’m watching as narrowed gazes unnerve me,
goosebumps follow-seeded words of faithless hope sprinkled heavily to sink beneath the flesh-see, dreams demand absence & muted speech when the world asks the child to hang their head:
passions are not what the rich make,
grab the shovel, follow the snake, glimmering gold will bring happiness, so place your stake.

It’s what I can’t comprehend-
how quickly we grow, ignorant to others needs, but guilty of our own
& if there’s any truth to “you reap what you sew”–we must have cultivated a hunger for barrenness long before a light beckoned us-

empty yourself of that which makes you prideful, still voice, waiting to meet uneasiness with mending in meaning,
suffering with another-My body & blood, hope in Love & joyous days follow.


For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility. (Ephesians 2:14 ESV)

You are my bread,
to fill a mouth, hungry
groans insistent,
but a beggar remains
patient amongst
reoccurring glasses overflowing
frothy animosity & plates displays our

Between bites are unconfessed apologizes I’ll never quite digest;

I’m afraid of closeness said to outlast time.


Thus saith the Lord, The people which were left of the sword found grace in the wilderness; even Israel, when I went to cause him to rest. The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee. (Jeremiah 31:2, 3 KJV)

What for fear, my friend, keeps you
so still in a shell-
small voiced insecurities lose themselves
in well salted tears the world eagerly takes.

Corners of an idle mouth,
ghosts, like smoke rings rising
& stealing-peace fading, silently.
We buy into sadness-a sold portrait
dried in melancholy.

Green beneath stingy fingers,
Sweaty-fields lined with twenties,
fifties, hundreds, but no, it isn’t trees I see: hello, resignation of my youth.

Close kept wallets secure Benjamins in ocean wide pockets; I’d gladly trade for my child mentality
& I cannot break currency,
dirt placed in shaky hands from blues much deeper than I know.

Waves to greet & deplete
yearnings neatly hidden within chambers,
friendliest beasts
find stealthily in darkened thoughts

shattered, I’m furiously redrawn,
a sandcastle meant to find place.


I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels. (Isaiah 61:10 KJV)

Come near me;
lovingkindnes, Your only offering,
always a face, ignorance absent
I ache for in this suffering,

I, Your bride, made new,
far from world proclamations,
still my feet burning from walking–running
miles beyond the thicket, Love gift wrapped, blood sacrifice bow.
My name on a tag-
You, my eternal present.


Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. (Isaiah 49:15 KJV)

Blotchy sadness, loose
tear ducts cannot-should not hold.
Sullen trickles out, I
amass of nothing more than creeks.
Face down, between the fibers of this carpet: silence is found.

A body with a face-
eyes, nose, mouth,
& lips numb from a phrase
born out of the Devil's way,
delighted is he who feeds
what will sour me.

pour weakness,
wine I never ask to drink,
bitterness making such sweet grapes
& sips my tongue can only shrivel-

potent aftertaste.
frail mind as mine
lost in haze-

swallowing belief
bruised purple by one lie,
already taken away.

My ears still cling-
earthly pains
causes found in loveless words spoken afar.

Waste, am I?


I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving. This will please the Lord more than an ox or a bull with horns and hoofs. When the humble see it they will be glad; you who seek God, let your hearts revive. (Psalms 69:30-32 ESV)

clouding thought:
You were wrought upon a wooden cross,
red, given heart,
for all moments I turn my cheek.
Thanks sits patiently, unrelenting-
I become unaware of this reproachful, welling grief.


And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. (Romans 8:23)

Wandering restlessly,
black sheep-night anxiously gnawing
edges of my sins, my frailty —
wait, didn’t you hear?
This body signed over to fleshly dying.

daily, we are faulting,
buying into temporary satisfaction-
Addicts always in the market for
a ‘quick fix’.
‘momentary relief.’
every voice bleeding out a scar
with a cunning scheme found within
nearly stitched band aids too sore
from restraining sickly poison: “YOLO!”

How could we refrain–
eyes bulging in delight
of ‘to die for’ spoonfuls
layered between batter
& drizzles tasting sinful,
buds pledging anguish with
out regard.

Sugared temptations,
we are bought, we are sold,
giving up ourselves:
Silver & gold,
skin & bone,

captives, still, we stand oblivious,
enslaved by falsehoods only the Enemy
cynically supplies.

Beyond the surface,
we wait, aging, aching
pleading to go home-

where, Father, we are
fully known.