turn away again. 

Won’t you come

& sweep up my heart

again, Lord? Your smile

begs my attention while

the world says my name,

Julia, Julia, julia. The frustration 

grips me and I wonder what my place is 

again. I yearn to stay in this quiet place 

with you where I can be calm, maybe 

laugh again, and I won’t lie and say I 

don’t long for the company of a friend, 

where a hug can embrace my frame. But 

you’re in room and I can’t 

Fmf: place.

I like this prompt. Though I totally thought I’d go a different way with it. Ask Jesus what my place is. Where I belong. Because it is confusing lately, this tension of wanting to where I belong with the world and where I belong with Jesus. The world is so loud and HEYY LOOK. LOOK. HELLO, did you hear me, I said look! (And books, though they can’t speak like a person, will make you look for a very long time. As in whether you should buy it. But it isn’t dire right now.) 

while Jesus is quiet, more tender. Stay with me. But Jesus, I.. I know. Stay with me. Can’t I fix it? Stay with me. I don’t understand what is happening. My insides feel like I may burn up with joy for reasons I don’t know. Stay with me. Ughh this makes me so sad and why does it feel like no cares, but you do. Stay with me. Why are all my relationships hard right now but I feel so close to you? Stay with me. Jesus. I want that intimacy. Stay with me. Stay with me. I feel like I’m losing. Stay with me.  Did you really answer my prayer? Stay with me. What about me? Stay with me. Wait and see. I love you. 

Its hard to stay in that peace when the world can so easily lure me away. And then I lose my focus and feel like it’s my duty to keep everything going, under control. But it’s not. It never will be. But I want to stay at his feet. In his word. The pull has never been stronger this year. Or maybe it’s my eagerness too. But this is where I’m finding most of my delight. Maybe all lately. And even though we’re a little more than half way through the year, I can’t wait to see what more surprises he has up his sleeve. 

Keep my eyes fixed on you, Jesus, the author and initator of my faith. 

style smile to ignite me again.

I come here 

to the kitchen table

again, to find you.

Abba, to connect 

with you. As a child

asks for their favorite 

meal: I feast on your word:

Keep me safe, o God. In my ears I hear, 

for He who promised is faithful. Hope,

come life up again, give me 

a spirit lift, a turbo st

fmf: connect.
A new year. A new word. A rediscovery of an artist that I cannot turn off.

Delight. I tried to write this on my Buddha board, one of the gifts my sister gave me for Christmas. I only used once and the frustration came quick but receeded as I realized this might be one of the best gifts. It’s one of Jesus’ subtle reminders, hey, relax. I don’t expect you to be so serious with it. I’m not as serious with you. 

Yes, Jesus, I want to say, but do you feel the tension inside?! What if I break it? Look. 😂 I really am hard on myself. The brush had a stray bristle & I almost had a breakdown. 

But this year, I’m going to try to delight in God as much in the hard and more in the good. I really need to work on both. And I’m praying as I do, he’ll draw close.

“The LORD directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭37:23‬ ‭NLT‬

May this be true of this year, Abba, as you teach me to delight in you.

Light of Waiting

He beckon us into stillness, wraps us in delight, breathes life back into weary.” Love this.

Wrap us in delight, LORD, while we wait.

Margot Marie Morris

Advent is the slow and tender of the season.

While I want this to be the time of stringing lights, and finding the perfect two foot pine to hang with gold and stars—I’m actually sitting in a room needing to be emptied.

Instead of the smell of cookies baking and hot chocolate on low heat for the next month, cardboard fills the air and says, stuff me full.

Even though I have season’s hymns on repeat, and I dance to Christmas in the Room every morning with tiny man by the woodstove fire (completely magical), it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Or December. Or presents.

But Advent helps me bend my knees and feel, to take a deep breath of it all again.

Last year I wrote,

How sweet it is to know that God chose the coming of his son, for the keeping of our hearts. So often the pace…

View original post 623 more words

Flowering Colors

Where I am, I shall unfold.

I wait to be sheltered in the Son,
splendorous light, heated completely.

Look at the ones surrounding you-
asking for answers, mouths scorching
& cowering becomes an earthy tradition timid bones as yours can’t seem to break.

Come, sit-rest your weariness upon shoulders unfailing.
Shh-I know the unrest shifting like rocks, waiting to be the avalanche willing you to lose timely breaths.

Jesus, rolls slowly off my tongue-
Us, you & I: married eternally,
but I can only see the weaving of a
dress unfit for a shaking body.

You look on me with grace,
lifting the veil patiently,
up, to reflect Light
given by You alone.