He Loves You

I woke up wanting not

rush Your arms away,

holding onto my shivering body

under white blankets colored snow.

Outside temperature almost

matching this throw.

I turn over, reading promising truth

I can’t let go: Your grace surpasses

my own. Your power works best

inside my step-step-pause motions

I am weak to better see Your smile

through a woman I hardly know.

She speaks with lilt upon each finger

stroke, painting pictures only Love

colors with first grace. I cry reading

how her daughter has lost belief,

watching her bones break,

many diagnoses she never asked

receive. Many years, I have doubted

depth of a Father’s love could go to

death for a crippled frame as mine.

One day, He found me in the middle

of a sleepless night on my best

friend’s floor, swaddled in a sleeping

bag, whispering: I forgive you,

I forgive you, I forgive you. For every

mistake. Doubt. Time spent angry

with grief I bring unwillingly.

My compassion has been upon you,

as My hand continually leading your

right. I have been residing beneath

desert sun, hot on my forehead. I’ve

blinded with the shine, crying,

God, what have I done? I’ve made

a mistake. I’m a mistake, too. You

can’t love me. Not with this

brokenness breaking my heart, from

out turned feet producing these

crockpot paced steps. Nor division

of my family. No, no, no, You can’t

look on me with pity.

He spoke dulcet, Darling, these

things do not define you. I do. You

do not have to know the plans

I have, nor answers only I can give.

I may keep you in a time seemingly

impossible, but everything with Me

proves possible.

He will make your dreams come

burning alive with holy fire you have

never known desirable. He will give

Himself unabashedly, letting longing

fall dewy a spring morn. Come away,

Beloved, your face I yearn to see,

Your voice, sweet as dove’s first

melody. Do not listen to lies pressed

hard against your eardrums by the

thief who comes to steal your joy.

You are enough.

You are worth.

You are upheld upheld by a king

who died an undeserved death,

so you may be robed with glory.

Don’t give up His love,

for your purpose will unfold,

as flower petals, or a snow angel

given her wings by a little girl

moving her arms in a motion

her mother will say came way by

a dear Friend singing joy above.

Author’s Note: This is a poem for MichelleMarie and her daughter. Michelle, I hope you’ll show this to your daughter when she’s old enough to understand fully. Until then, this will serve as a reminder God can and does overcome unbelief. He will overcome her’s through His unmistakable love. ❤ Thank you for coming into my life 🙂

Blush Me In Love

Come with this wind

delighting my nostrils

with sweet banana bread

baking inside a people empty

kitchen.

I am front row seated in this light

I never knew I spent energy chasing,

when all You’ve asked me:

Won’t you choose life by sitting still,

knowing I have best intention for

you?

I reply the same each time: I must

prove I am ready. I am capable

big, rather than small. Please let me

show money payers I am more than

they think. Sure, I am quiet, angered

a time or two by way of objecting

You, the river who won the west.

East.

South.

North.

Many people reject a loving Father

spreading our punishment over

these four corners of the earth.

A letter halved, then quartered

four square pieces torn,

dandelion petals plucked

and gently blown our unexpected

direction: I forgive you, child.

No matter how many whispers

You trade with me as leaves falls,

my heart beats a question

You tarry no answer:

Will You continue saving

my shaking feet moving toward

another unknown I could again fall

below?

Leaves fly above above

my incessant head,

laughing deep reds

I imagine hold no embrassment.

Never Goodbye, My Friend

She comes up the cord

where Your praise sings

through my eardrums.

Boomboomboomboom.

Bass.

Beat.

My base,

Jesus.

I look closer,

watching her wave

a leg in hello motion.

I jump, dropping my phone

at my side. I don’t want her

bridging the distance

between my paled fingers

touching her pointy toes.

She races up, then down

this web colored line, no

doubt shaken by my fear

for her to leave my side.

I bring the phone to my eyes,

inspecting the silk less line.

She is gone,

rushing my thoughts

back to Charlotte’s song

before Wilbur wept a grief

his dear friend could no longer

chide.

Passing into the hands of Eternal

Father Time.

Tarry With Me

I am still running.

Working hard enough

Love will finally be earned.

Did I complete tasks

asked by voices my own?

Fearful.

Impatient

Aching to go over

the river where sunflowers

grow on either bank.

In the middle, living water

flows in the house of God,

forever. Your love is strong

quiet for my busied mind.

Am I waiting right?

Should I take control again?

I don’t want the responsibility,

continuously trying my patience

with how I cannot wait.

A child counting the days

until December brings flakes

white as first snow.

My need for You to baptize

my mind, outweighs the cure

for pain only sinners know well:

denial for help, since we are

much better solo. I hate admitting

I can’t wait alone, with questions

presented again & again &

again.

I need Your hand wrapped in my right,

Your face before my brows raising worry

if You’ll come through before I decide

boarding

a southbound train to take me further

than a hidden Georgia sun nowhere

near in love as You’ve sworn on the

cross.

I’m Sorry, CP

Cerebral Palsy:

I don’t know why I’m writing to you.

No, wait, I do. I want to understand

why I hate you.

The other day, my brother pointed out

how I spelled you wrong.

With a T at the end of Cerebral. At

least I think so.

I don’t want to check. I don’t want to

revisit my mistake.

I covered my ears when he said it.

Much of the time, how I’m trying to

cover up you.

Remember when I was younger, you

carried me

all the way across the living floor, so I

could feel the rush of walking without

aluminum against my back?

These crooked feet, so quickly

contract blisters on the big toes

without support. You take me down

several breaths when that happens.

I walk infinitely slower than I already

think I do. I curse myself for trying

to run or walk as everyone else: with

knees apart.

You make me want to prove I can be

normal.

Be able to drive a car. Not to be a

passenger.

Cook a full-fledged dinner, complete

with not taking

what feels like an hour to get from

refrigerator to counter.

I can somewhat use the oven, though.

Showering without taking forty-five

minutes, plus dressing.

Walk without this step-step-pause

movement.

Run without wanting to pass out after

five seconds.

Okay, maybe a minute or so.

I always get a cramp in my side.

My left one.

Digesting food seems to take days.

I jump at my name being called,

or if someone says something

unexpected,

everything in me goes off.

I don’t mean for this to be a hate

letter.

I’ve spent these years from teens to

adult,

self-pitying you for making me less

than normal.

Someone showed me differently

He found me at the pool, watching

everyone take part in new life I denied.

He looked in my downturned eyes,

Do you want healing?

He spoke in a direct tone,

serious, yet loving.

Timidly, I said, I don’t have

anyone to help me into the water.

Someone gets there before me

when I try on my own,

He told me to stand, walk.
.
I could not ignore His voice

dripping love as a pungent flower

sends their perfume airborne, hopeful

a whiff will be caught by passing nose.

Oh, how He made me stop to love you.

You make me fall, bruise even.

You make my right hand clench

when I am holding onto another

hand supporting me.

There is a secret He whispers,

Come to me. Slowly. Smell fragrance

a lavender blooms upon your soul.

It is from Me.

Crawl if you must.

For in this body,

I shine My glory.

So do not be sorry,

only allow My love

your company.

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by this letter on body image. I thought it was time to come clean with mine. I’m beautiful this way. 🙂

To A Friend Once A Stranger

You show Jesus

with the way you hold me.

Words rolling off your grace-letting

fingertips as I recall my story to ink.

I tell of a broken family, where

divorce had sought division eternally.

Where the Devil has spent months

laughing at the twisting of my hands

as I have watched hatred fly

tongue to tongue, even my own,

speaking angrily about a past I have

no desire remembering daily.

How I cry: Forgive us, we know not

what we do.

With you, I freely tell a victory

God has won through our Savior’s

blood, leading her mouth away from

liquor’s cold oblivion to declaration:

You lead, I long to be

a God girl now. Just a friend will not

do, keep me holding on to You

when temptation comes in view.

I share how beautiful this day

becomes, knowing our Father

upholds us all with His righteous

right hand. How we can do life big

because we have a Father who

magnifies our love offerings,

no matter how small. How He has

been my first love because I keep

quiet about dreams He’s making

come true. How He’s smiling over

me, at me, with me everywhere I

look. How He has been my fighter as

I remain still, watching leaves fall

over me a heavenly confetti.

I know He’s rejoicing, singing a song

my soul knows true. I pray He does

the same for you, my dear friend.

Today. Tomorrow. Every day

following, so you may know height,

nor depth can separate love

never failing you.

Forgive Me, I’m Tired

Holding on to You

becoming all I know.

Your hands, arms

bringing this feeble frame

to glorious light. I am held

a fireman’s, husband carrying

His beloved over the threshold way.

I won’t fake you out, darling.

You are safe inside My wing.

We are on the run and go,

away from lying tongues,

crossed eyes where you long

a screen transparent enough

a demeanor could be seen.

Are they going to scream,

or hold their tongue from speaking

about living in a house of gold?

Riches lead to migraines,

where everything hurts,

blinds, bleeds, bruises,

breaks apart their hearts

for the sake of more materials.

You want to tell them,

there’s more out behind these things

you hoard within reach.

iPads. iPhones. Car Radios.

Cookies. Cake. Any sweet.

Wine. Beer. Any alcoholic beverage.

Let’s take all this and march to the

sea, confessing this truth: our hands

are as much to blame as guns for

hands we see crossing behind backs

unaware we all will fall away.

Let’s set everything at the shore,

watching all these odes to sleep

slip under this reflective blue sheet.

No control over us.

Look each other in the eye,

expressing compassionate truce

as you, addict with a pen, scrawling

notes crying: please, please, please

see me changing my semi-automatic

mind. I need nothing. I am fine solo.

No, no, no. I need someone to walk

hand in hand down the road planned

for my feet alone.

I am only a child,

who wishes not yet to grow,

but marvel at the trees

beginning color changing ritual.

You’ll ask, Daddy, am I just as

pretty? I’ll turn into your pleading

gaze, Darling, your beauty is

unchanged, more precious than

passing leaves making their beds

upon the earth. Your home is forever

with me.

I Confess Thee On This Dreamer’s Bed

Who I am-

fervent worrier letting mistakes

stamp out my heart

with hate of who I’ve been.

If You believe me, baby,

we know I’m taking vessel dictations

beat after beatbeatbeatbeat.

Paralysis.

Take this away.

I can’t convince my head

this is the end,

no matter what the inner critic

throws from behind

my long-term memory.

Don’t blink, he whispers.

Look at all this commendable apathy.

This is a masterpiece to behold, eh?

Years in the making.

You get to witness it all.

Aren’t you lucky?

Don’t pay mind to the blessings

God is bestowing on you.

it’s a dream to fade away.

I have pain aplenty.

Fear to turn away from His face.
Look at you.

Squirmy.

Twisting your fingers.

What, you going to do?

Call for your Daddy?

Funny.

Little girls always have

the lamest jokes.

Go ahead.

See if He comes.

Do I need to remind you

your earthly ones behavior?

Oh, wait. No.

I’ve made sure the sting stays.

Father, I know the sting

bees release roaming this land

searching for nectar’s delicacy

But, worry has waterlogged

my inside of love where You’ve

sought communion with me.

I ask You to be my escape.

My fortress speaking sweet

nothings in the places

liars made sure ridicule

crumbled me.

Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award

I was nominated by http://soulfuloutpour.wordpress.com/2014/09/23/sisterhood-of-the-world-bloggers-award/ for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. Thank you for nominating me! 🙂

sisterhoodoftheworldbloggersaward

The Rules:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you, linking back to their site.

2. Put the award logo on your blog.

3. Answer the ten questions they have given you.

4. Nominate ten people.

5. Make up ten new questions for them to answer.

My Questions:

1. What do you want your legacy to be?

In all honesty, I’ve never thought about leaving a legacy. I know that many people today shoot for fame, money, and glory. I’ve never wanted to live that way. I will admit, I sometimes (okay all the the time) want approval for this. Approval that I’m still loved even though the path I’m on isn’t exactly what others hoped for me. Let me be real, I want approval for everything. I want the world to approve me, but I don’t. I don’t want the dumfounded looks, pain, confusion, or anything else to stop me from falling in love with with Jesus. That’s what I want to leave behind. My love for my Beloved.

2. What does love mean to you?

Love is sacrifice without fear of reaction. I read a book called, Hinds Feet on High Places.Theres a part in the book where The Shepherd talk to Much-Afraid about the waterfalls of the High Places. He explains how these waterfalls know no other way, but to give, give, give to the Valley of Humiliation. They do so joyously. This is love to me. To give selflessly of yourself to someone over and over again in whatever you can.

3. When have you felt most alive?

This is going to sound weird (well, maybe only to me). When I’ve felt most alive isn’t a particular moment, but a collective of  moments in this valley I’m currently living in. I have never seen Jesus as clearly as I have here, Through all the tears, the wondering, the emptiness. The loneliness. He’s been right there, holding my right hand. I’ve seen Him in the friend who drove 8 hours to spend 2 days with me. In the rain storms. In the sunshine He spills over me. The friends I’ve met through joining The Reflection magazine. One of those friends, Megan, driving an hour to get me so we could see Jamie Grace in concert. Meeting Jamie Grace. The friends I’ve made through this blog. 🙂 I’ve felt most alive with Him.

4. What do you think of the world as it is now?

The world is broken. In my own life, I’ve seen the division. The way one wrong word or sentence tears people apart. Deception. How it’s easier to hide behind your brokenness, instead of stepping into it and declaringL Yes, I’m broken and that’s okay because I’m human. I’m tired of going alone. I need a friend. Only then can we stop striving. Stop competing. Stop showing another person up as if we’re better. Stop believing EVERY lie that this is all there is, so we better live now as we’re told, see everyone else. I wish everyone, including myself believed the truth: there’s no flaw in us. He saw what He had made, and it was good.
We are GOOD AS IS. And I know God is doing everything to show me this. So He can show someone else through me. 🙂 There is hope. 🙂

5. What is your favorite song and why?

My favorite song at this moment: Every Little Bit of Lovely by Jamie-Grace. I struggle with being not enough. This song is God’s reminder I am for Him.

6. What is blogging to you?

Blogging for me is sharing my life and finding a community of people who support, encourage and love me for me. Even if I never get to meet them personally face to face, I’m thankful God led me to WordPress, to let me fall in love with poetry again, and let me encourage other people along the way. And make some beautiful friends.

7. If you could have any superpower what would it be and why?

Sometimes I wish had the ability to type faster. There are always so many thoughts going on in my head, I wish my fingers could keep up. It must have something to do with being a writer. Wonder what you would call that?

8. What are you most passionate about?

Jesus and words. The more I learn how Jesus speaks, the more I learn how to use words.

9. Who is your inspiration?

My inspiration Jesus. Every single person He’s placed in my life, from my family, friends in real life/on this blog, people I’ve encountered, like a waiter/waitress, or anyone I’ve came across in my life, has shown me more of Him who loves me.

10. What is the most valuable life lesson you have ever learned?

It’s never a mistake to shoot for your dreams, even when they don’t happen exactly in your time frame, or how you expect. You’re in the light of the greatest Star there will ever be.

Nominees:

1. http://trishamugo.com

2. https://lightthelie.wordpress.com

3. http://messyjoyfull.wordpress.com

4. http://meglynch203.wordpress.com

5. http://meganelizabethmorales.wordpress.com

6. http://beautifullifewithcancer.com

7. http://myislandhomeblog.wordpress.com

8. http://daughterbydesign.wordpress.com

9. http://desertroseinbloom.wordpress.com

10. http://brandyalainescott.wordpress.com

Questions:

1. What are you most afraid of?

2. Has there ever been a time when you believed in failure?

3. Favorite book?

4. Favorite artist? Why?

5. What do you turn to for encouragement?

6. Favorite song at this moment?

7. Best quality in a friend?

8. Do you like imagine Bob & Larry whenever you pick up tomatoes & cucumbers?

9. Who inspires you? Why?

10. Favorite Disney movie?