Day 115


I need You

to bring rain

to his heart –

wash it clean,

open his eyes

to see You give

all of us a brand

new start. You don’t

give thought to the regret,

the pain – all You ask is for

an open heart. I can hear

a curiousity how I’ve gotten

here with You, where I’ve come

to know
fmf: rain.

Jesus, I really don’t understand what is happening to my heart. I do know I can’t stop praying for this friend. I keep finding myself on the phone longer than I like being on the phone at all. And genuinely smiling. Laughing. And mostly, quiet as I listen to myself and him.

It’s different – this opening of my heart. Slowing letting in someone with disabilities similar to mine who isn’t a girl or my friend. It is unexpected. Almost like a rain of blessing I can’t see yet.  The distance is hard and my heart has a longing I don’t get – and I block You out of it, telling You I don’t want it.  I was fine. I tell you over and over again this can’t be from You and I can’t feel like this and how on earth would it work?


God, You know what it is? I don’t trust You. I’m terrified to believe this is true. I’m afraid to believe You–what he is saying. I can feel the fear rise to the surface when before I would eat those words, swallowing them for hope they may be true from any guy who would tell me.

But now? My heart is closed, shut off, stunned, guarded. It has been years since I’ve liked someone outside of butterflies, oh please love me! God, I want to try with him–I’m so stuck in my head and my heart is afraid I will be crushed. I need You, Lord. I meed guidance. Peace. There’s too much I want to tell you. You need to be in the middle of this. And I can’t believe he knew that I used to hide in music, just like I do now.

I feel peace when I talk about him and I don’t want to assume he’s the one because I don’t know. I just know I would like a chance. That’s all. And for You to guide and get all the glory. And I will say thank You.


And it has been awhile since I’ve rambled. Jesus, help me trust You. You are scary, safe.



Day 98



Cam we talk about Your extreme kindness last Friday? That word is defining this month, I think. But it started with a MOOOOOOO and ended in I think me asking, Did that really happen? Wow. We were looking at books—a regular thing between Shannan and me— books from audible (way to play this song right now. Now, I’m going to play it again, hahaha.) or OverDrive— what would be best. I remember saying I wanted to read A Wrinkle in Time with Kelly. Seeing it not available at the library & then she says she’ll buy it for me and Kelly and herself, too. And I say we can read it together. If that didn’t stop me in my tracks, the box sure did. 

I couldn’t even open it. I just stared at it. For hours. I’m sorry. THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN DURING MY BIRTHDAY. I will not allow it. Let me experience Your joy, Lord. I don’t care what You have to do, but help me receive. But after the box was brought into my room, Shannan asked if I got the mail—the moo mail if You will. I told her I was waiting for Kelly, I think. And that the box was way too big to have just two books in it. She said, Open it!! And well, You know how I struggled with one side of the box and put music on. This song about the kindness of friends came on and I felt a little shaky. Or a lot actually. Because I mean, look:


And all I could do was stand there and shake inside and laugh. Because she did not just do that! The books are super shiny (I know there is something in Your Word about the allure of things, but seriously shiny.)


I still don’t know what to say about this. It’s like an explosion of kindness. And it has continued this week even though I’m not really feeling great. But I always see You well in these times. The little things. Dad making me grilled cheese and tomato soup yesterday. And the mini peach pie I haven’t eaten yet. But the way he said because it’s your birthday! The joy. And making me ramen with peas and carrots. And 3 new credits to get audiobooks from Nolan. The gardenia tree from mom. Spending time on FaceTime with Raechel and Kallayah. Thank You for them, how they make me laugh. They help me see You are seeing me right here in this valley.


Today as I spend time with Sarah (also HUGE BLESSING to be able to hang out with her), help me focus on Your face. Your smile. Help me see and receive Your little surprises. You are good, God. Open my eyes to see how kind You truly are. Be near me.


Your tender-haired girl


PS. Laughter would be awesome, too. Thank You.






Day 55



In the midst 

of the cat puke

(really, so gross.)

& the flu coming 

steady, slow, You

bring the setting sun 

through the living room

window. I sit there & marvel

at something so quietly blinding. For a 


I let go. Frustration. Sorrow. 

They surrender as my heart 

to the glow. Darkness, no matter how 

small can’t comprehend You. Your love 

can not be controlled, matched, 

yet here I lay waiting again for You. Still 

me. Hush me with Your light speaking a 


our world demands be audible. 


your tender haired girl 
Ps. I love You. 

Previous letter. 

like my mouth is trying to run a race. 

I am caught in

the blessing when 

my phone lights with

the picture and I hear 

her ask, how I am. I 

say good..ish and she 

repeats the ish. And then 

later on, her laugh fetches 

mine as we realize how hard 

connecting is. But what she doesn’t know 

is how I’ve missed this welcoming space

to ramble though my voice cuts off, not in 

tears but movement 
fmf: blessing

It is a bblessing to call a friend after you haven’t talked since last year (on the phone) and remembering how good it is to laugh. To hear them laugh. And their kids in the background. And what you are pretty sure is a bird. And god’s reminder that though you may be tired of reaching out to anyone, afraid nothing will happen, or you will hurt them/or they will you, be a burden..God drives these fears out. Even if it’s slow. So slow. But it’s worth it for laughter. To remember you are always welcome even if you’re talking too fast and you’re cutting out. And some anticipatory happines coming. And lingering in the silence. And reminder to not give up.  

There’s been a lot of praying this week and confusion, some anger which I think is serious deep sorrow, cat holding and late nights with tears that stopped my phone screen from working. Laughter from a typo that has turned into something without fail makes me laugh.

And this. And lavender sugar cookies. And playing fetch with the dog whose eyes gleam with God’s compassion. And I think I just named so many blessings. Abundance in the hard places. ☺️

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. 

Dear Thief, Bravo

I listen to a song

tell me I’m worth more than gold.

Sour cream & cheddar cheese Ruffles

waft through this lonely, lowly dimmed room.

Now, a woman sings a request I’m unsure

I’ve ever asked, but my heart can’t tell a lie.

Would You stay with me, crying through

my chest a quiet beat wanting resignation?

Lies have met my mind’s threshold today.

No one cares about you.

Orange juice sits on the bedside table.

Good job betraying your mother.

Vicious laughter followed by,

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Don’t you know when words are many,

sin is never absent? You can cry

all the hidden tears, but Jesus knows

what a fool you’ve become.

Talking about what you’ve seen, know

without thinking, realizing you could turn

the only parent against you.

You want that?

You are a baby, writing all this

waiting for someone to pity you.

People have been pitying for five days.

Looking you in the eyes.

Buying you grapes.

Nutri-grain bars.

Pop tarts.

Asking, how are you?

You blink.

You stare.

You answer.

You look away.

You find yourself here, wrapped

underneath a comforter, repeating

your need for a sympathetic ear.

You want more. You want a physical body,

wrapping those anxiety bones in a day

long hug, easing you into a silence

you won’t sit with, because I, the lying Father,

terrify you to believe no one will understand you.

You should remain quiet.

Stop writing,

Give up.

Jesus was tempted

every way you are.

He didn’t sin though.

I bet He didn’t doubt His Father’s love

the way you are with not getting your heart desires.

You are selfish

A child so weak, your Father

gave Himself to save

out of the hands of doubt.

Yet, you doubt His loving blessings,

wanting something more than loneliness.

Shame. Shame.

Hearty Spill

I think today my peace

unwound the stitching

where this moon skin keeps

Your sacrifice to me underneath.

You will never give me peace

the world gives-financial security.

You know that isn’t promised,

even if I would like this faith leap

to touch more people than I know.

Money isn’t meant to be the goal

as long Your kingdom comes,

Your riches will follow.

I can’t look.

I want to cover my eyes.

Peek through these picket fence fingers.

Your laughing eyes speaking truth amidst my straightforward cracks.

The more you hide,

the more I will seek you.

Don’t run away, now.

You’ve come this far.

Endure the wait

I AM ahead



My hand lays upon

your wearied head.

Rest now.

Let my blessings flow,

do not trouble your heart

with what you yet understand.

Be still, knowing I do not have end.


I’m with you,

holding trembles,

longing My approval still.


Who can find an adhesive,
disgruntled child, patient
enough to extend a hand
never tiresome of eruption-
held at your right handed weakness,
sobbing because goodbyes end joy
too quick.

When I died to this grief you experience,
I knew you’d overwhelm the thought
someone loves you,
leading you to My arms as they
unravel bandaids falling away.
The distance of who you have & still
to come, will not change blessing given & waiting to be bestowed.

Worry not, resting in truth
l know both need,
kindness above
has not stopped.