not only sorrow

last goodbye,

the Christmas holiday

severed my heart open –

a blue bucket of gold,

ache over the cries over

the phone, beside my

bareness. my guilt broke 

& God, are we waking up 

again? Who was I when 

young, a girl hungry for 

affirmation? I sat at her 

table, penciling flowers

but Abba, I never felt good

I took out library book upon

library book on love. I sat

in a bedroom with light 

shining on pages about

a long distance love – 

what I soon felt for a boy

she’d said I forget why I 

went out with him. I laughed

to myself. I’d love to forget,

but the memory of cantaloupe 

& his words: you’re beautiful,

did you know that? over & over

until she said, okay, I think she gets it–

explains my ache for

attention. I never wanted the 

hollow, but the depth beyond 

a well–how a child dreams all

things are possible. 

Prompts here & here. I kind of combined both. All these memories feel like dreams, one that died and the other that continues on, or is changing. One person who helped me see Jesus sees beyond my body & another the power of His love.

I like to believe like a child, but way harder than I thought. Instead of drawing, I write like crazy and cry. The crying is like a child at least.

Joy is there too, harder to find, but Jesusis working it:


😍 this will be haiku. And an awesome end to national poetry month.

denying as I may be.

I watch her–

gray stretch across

my blue jeans, the fur

of sorrow pass me by.

I ask her, please don’t

go, but she can’t stay–

walking so slowly away

with one last look back 

at me–June, I say. She 

turns away, slowly giving 

way for joy I mustn’t see,

fmf: pass

today’s inspiration comes from a cat. I originally wanted to write about this verse, but this came too quick.

Music and outside is an excellent conbo. 

& I’ll come lift your head

Maybe there’s a loving 
God, who whispers:
on your mark, take this 

cup full of sorrow, a floodplain

you never asked for. There is 

joy as you lay it down–don’t 

hold back those tears, I’ll catch 

them. Here Me reprise this song 

in your heart, this expedition love

you second guess as if I’ve gone 

missing, but how can I forget my beloved 

girl? Who wants to fly, not remembering 

how. I am the Word. I give strength to 

weary, your sword & shield, your help in 

depression, hope in the waiting. I AM 

never forgetting that something changed 

inside you, but I AM healing you.

You are worth more than many sparrows, 

and they do not fall without My word. I 

watch them,

care for them, shelter them, so 

sing: He’s always been faithful. 

And there will be a huge smile and kind eyes with a gentle hand in mine. The images he paints in my head sometimes, wow. 🙋

You know I’ll come through

She said, someone’swatching over me–Jesus,

you are beautiful, but the

horses (thoughts) are stuck,

You can’t be known & loved 

doing nothing, sitting still &

oh Jesus, this new wine I drink

tastes bittersweet as chocolate 

I can’t bring myself to eat. I watch 

as You strengthen me with raisins-

bite sized pieces of Your word I chew through grief: be still & know 

I am God. I will fight for you, you need only be still. I follow you down in the valley you now reside;

I never leave you nor forsake you. 

We are children before the sea; I gather up mercy to kiss your dirty 

cheek with peace, waves waking 

sand, the way I pull you back to Me. Come as you are, I whisper,

darling, less like scars I see, but 

beauty: sensitive is tenderness 

I treasure. 
I love writing to music. Love, love, love it.

son, i look down

on two benches 

we unite, this 

stranger & I. 
She tells me

I must be close

to You, Abba, if

I write to You,

about You. I 

tell her I don’t 

this though people

tell me otherwise.

Why not? she says,

her leaning close to

hear my response 

almost breaks me wide 

open on the pavement,

father–I am not a people

per

fmf: unite.

This week has been rough. Emotionally. Monday I turned 26 and had a conversation (or more of a listening session) with this woman okay two years older than me. 

She told me repeatedly how blue my eyes were and how pretty they were, like crystals. And everytime she said this, I’d look down, feeling this shame or embrassment. I was so uncomfortable and almost sobbed later when she said, that’s okay. Be who you are.

And I felt this tug in my chest, like I wanted to sit there and cry: I don’t know who I am. I feel like a lost little girl inside, who has grown up too fast and has forgotten how to truly laugh and feel it everywhere within. It’s okay to sit and be quiet and watch the world swirl, aching to keep up? But you can’t keep up and watching everyone else around try, saddens you more than you can say?

And your own broken heart needs a little bit more of Jesus than you’d like to admit. But you have no idea how or when he’s going to come through for you. You just know he promises he’s clearing a way and he is the way and he understands your heaviness and tears better than you.

And you don’t want to forget his love for you. So, you hold on and wait. 

And try not to fret and worry and read his word way too late in the night, collecting promises on your phone so you won’t forget. But you wake up with the loud voice in your head telling you, you can’t trust. You’re an idiot for wanting to go deep, look at the way you squirm inside when someone talks to you. Or wants to. Shame on you.

But I don’t say this because my chest hurts and she’s telling me how God is in me and I’m stunned and then she’s saying happy birthday and God bless you.

And for most of this week, I’m so twisted inside. Tears come. And anger and sadness and I try and end up shutting out people because this keeps coming and I want to just embrace, but Abba knows how hard it is for me and I’m glad he isn’t going to give up pursuing me.

what an embrace there will be

Abba, I am
bloated with question:

can You be truly satisfied,

delighted in me? 

even as I choke on  

eulogies over all my 

fallen yesterdays?

great is Your faithfulness,

holding my right hand as 

I cower in the darkness.

Julia, I am here, don’t be afraid. 

Know I am God. Be still.

Lean into me. Let me love

magnificently through broken.

never have I, nor will forsake,

Omega am I, who cherishes you.

Put your hand in mine and you’ll 

quiet the voices pulling us away.

Rest in my easy way, unforced 

sayings of love shall mark a

thorn upon your of all I am clearing

uniquely away. How easy you cry,

very tender is my mercy, I am 

washing you white–the scarlet

x-ray flowing through your bones,

Zion, I wait for you, my darling.
I cheated with this prompt. There’s two ‘e’s, but I can’t change it. This was really challenging, with the x. But I love being born in this month. Love it.

I cast out the fear sooner than you know

  
I see you looking over

at me — I move swift
yet contained inside 

this cylinder. I know 

what you’re thinking,

how can I be content

in, by such a small space?

In the way I catch your gaze,

darling, how you laugh like a 

child delighted at the circus.

but this is more than acrobats –

this is passion with one captivated

audience.
prompt here. Bob and Larry will watch over you, too because, God made you special and he loves you very much! (I can’t eat these.. I kinda wish they were stuffed animals because Larry may not be able to ask for his hairbrush pretty soon. 😂)

God will do anything to make me laugh or smile and I only realize when I’m in pain.and confusion and waiting I don’t understand. 

But I’m holding on to the fact He says He is patient and kind and won’t leave me alone. The candle only reminds me how shiny he must be and how I don’t want to fear. But it is harder than I thought to come undone and let someone in.

My Abba with the healing.

Father,

the birds laugh quickly
after I finish my cry,
You never mock me.

You bring the healing  

my heart longs a forever,

more will tearless be.

This is my second attempt at writing haikus. After talking to someone about I cannot write a poem with form (free verse never seems like it has form to me though I’m sure it does.) I wanted to give them a go.

5-7-5  syallable is tough. Especially 7 syallable, but oddly fun. The second part is my favorite because I took verses of hymns I was listening to last night and meshed them together.

I’m thinking I may write more. I love when Jesus moves me to write in new ways and somehow always ALWAYS through music. 

Like this. I don’t know what it is about her music or when I hear her sing a hymn, but my insides get all mushy and I feel held. Calm. I’m forever thankful for her music and how honest she is. I’ve really learned how to cry out through her music and appreciate, love hymns.

God has been faithful. He will be again. His loving compassion, it knows no end.

Ughh, such good stuff. Beauty. ☺️

over my burden of try

it is not easy

to hear You whisper,

I love you, Julia. I want

to set you free. You don’t

have to be perfect. & I weep

until I am quiet, staring at all

the tear stains against the grey.

I wonder what You think when I 

beg through gasps, I cannot let You in–I 

want to but I cannot even

take what You give me–I need You

to show me who You are everyday,

over and over. & I cry 

fmf: easy. 

Burden of trying to understand how You love me like this. One who wants to rejoice one second and weep the next. Who wants to give up, but try again. Who wants to give, give, give, but stare at what I receive and push it back like a child. Because I should give until I am empty, and even then give. No receiving for this girl. Even if it’s something I want. Because that isn’t the point. It is to serve. With love. But I can’t love well when I refuse to receive it with open arms, without fear it is going to end. Because I can’t give back the same or at all. Or because I haven’t worked for it. Ugh.

God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love. 1 John 4:17-18 

You know why this is hilarious to me. 4/18 is my birthday and the way this verse is mostly about fear, it explains a lot about how I am. Please keep taking Your time with me, I’d like to receive more of this well-formed love, without rushing off to give it back. (This sounds selfish..) 

But I need to soak You in so much than I allow myself. I’d to indulge myself, really.

I want a radiant face.

binding ties

all the memories

come hazy, old

photographs I hold

in memory–playing 

video games, army,

hide n seek while he

wears a Scream mask 

& tries to scare us, always

me, but he made you laugh.

the hours we’d spend every 

Sunday morning wrestling, only to be 

welcomed by a huge pancake breakfast & 

cut up fruit: cantaloupe, melon & oranges 

donuts some other weekends with

drives to the movies. I love you signs 

thrown up followed by uncontrollable 

laughter. Fuzz.

Muzz. Life sized Glinda smiling down at 

you while you sleep.

Rugrats in front of the entertainment 

center. Taking 

the build-a-bear, mercilessly 

mocking my “first love.” But,

it’s the way you’ve stood beside,

held my hand no matter break or

bend, sorrow or shame, distance–

reminding me the strength of family 

blood.

prompt here

Apparently today is national sibling day. I am blessed with a brother and sister who have given me memories to look back on that are hilarious. And challenging, but has only strengthened our relationship. It’s an honor to be their sister. And to watch the way they’ve loved me for a quarter of my life, especially over the last two years, it’s a tearing up thing. They’ve loved me through a lot grief. Stood beside me, held my hand, sat in awkward silence, gave me sweets. They’ve supported this crazy writing journey I’m on. They’ve welcomed my friends as their friends have welcomed me. They’ve teased me about everything, from boys to having Cerebral palsy and saying I can’t keep up, and loved me regardless. They show me who Jesus is constantly and I’m so thankful they are mine. Yay for cheesiness!

“By yourself you’re unprotected. With a friend you can face the worst. Can you round up a third? A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭MSG‬‬ 

It’s like that. And I love them both very much.