I dream of making you smile,

falling into Your arms, Your

laughter against my eardrum.

My child, you’ve done so well

with all the earthy sorrow–I’ve 

watched you cry yourself in the 

dark, wanting to know why why 

why. but now, here, I can hold you 

close fo 

fmf prompt: dream. I think this my dream, more than writing or someone buying drawing of mine. Though I want those, too, I think one of my dreams I just realized is to be on a bunch of authors launch teams. It’s something about supporting others that write too, that’s getting to me. That I get help in this way. But more than that, my dream is being in Jesus’ arms.

looking down without mo(u)rning

with an infomercial
playing on about
weight loss—I
see you. eating
a peanut butter
& raspberry jelly
sandwich, you
are suddenly
awoken & gazing
in my eyes, before
laying back down.
golden girls comes
on the screen & i want
tears falling, but they
don’t—only sting you
are gone.

i love how Jesus holds me when I go back to a memory. when my grandma was here, she used to watch Golden Girls, or read the paper while I ate a chocolate muffin my grandpa and uncle picked out. sometimes it was healthy… most of the time, chocolate was it. so, i’d be sitting in the chair in the family room, while she’d be on the couch reading. i’d watch some of the show, but I was always struck by how she sat and read. really, being in her presence. i loved the morning quiet where we never had to talk. when we did, she typically told me good morning and i jumped.

she asked me a lot why i never said good morning   was i scared? yes. i don’t know why. i think maybe though it was excitement.. i’d get to sit with her. i don’t know why I miss this so much. or why another person can remind me of so much. unknowingly, too.

awe my heart

i hear you,
rejoice in me—
what if, i can’t
trust you, me,
anyone. you’re
going to teach
me in the way
i should go.
my legs do not
wish move left
or right. you are
not asking my go.
rejoice. right here.
right now. sing
as the birds out
side your window.
heavy heart wakes
me up: God, i can’t
do this. i grieve
i’m as selfish as they
come; i want what
wastes away. i beg
pardon my doubt,
let me lose myself
your way—

i woke up this morning with a heavy heart–anxiety. i’m laying there telling God how i’m afraid. how i don’t know where he’s going to lead me. or ask. i’m realizing how selfish i am. how i’m too wrapped up in my head with worry. Over past and future stuff. i keep forgetting the present. So, God, in his lovingkindness, gently says: I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go with my  loving eye on you.

Then, once I get over myself I started praying for others. and while i’m praying, i feel my heart lift.

it amazes me how much i want to help other people and everything in life right now is a gentle push to bring them to the Savior.

in prayer. i told him it feels unimportant, no one will see it. and he goes: that’s the point, Julia.

I take this as God’s way of, “Duh.” Are  you rolling your eyes, too, God?

The idea of you sitting on your throne with the angels: Finally, she’s getting it! Let’s polka!

You and Grandma in matching robes..I’m thinking pink for her, white for her. dancing to Who Stole the Kieshka (totally spelled that wrong, but let’s go with it…)

I wonder if there’s a holy (happier( version in Heaven: Who Wants to Greet Ya, Won’t You Greet Him Back?


okay, so I want to keel over in laughter, probably because this is funnier to me than it will be to others. Maybe not.

But this just proves AGAIN how hilarious Jesus is.

And now, I kind of want some quiche…. (I always want quiche after hearing this song. and isn’t keeshka sausage….?)

oh sompingme, let’s dance 😀

peace comes over her soul 

move it, buddy.

she says, pointing

to a bug i can’t see

through grass my mind

isn’t settled on. i am singing

about heaven being my home

& she goes quiet, listening or

watching this no friend of her’s

leave melody behind–
Author’s note: God is teaching me to sing, laugh, love. He’s driving me crazy. I know I keep saying this, but it’s amazing me to watch how I want to talk about God and his love for me. It’s overwhelming to say the least.

Especially in the grass while you’re singing and bugs want to be close, but they leave while you praise God a little louder, and the sun shines on you.


look again

to meet you
up beyond blue
skies and gathered
clouds—i wonder
if your eyes will be
watery. i looked you
in depth as if jesus
cried inside, compassion
i long–

FMF prompt: meet, This took a while to write. as in, i fixed things while writing & though about meeting my grandma in heaven. i apparently miss looking in here eyes. so much tenderness/sadness/compassion/warmth/worry/joy in those blues. at least my mom has the same eyes 🙂

I’ll Take Your Offering

Kabobs wind drift through

my open windows.

Crickets carry on

conversing riddling language

I don’t understand.

Maybe they’re telling stories.

Reminiscing times before

I would know love is not pretty

lace perfectly bowed.

Maybe they’re passing jokes.

What do you call losing Heaven’s song?


A major discord.

Their musical legs rub

a melodious laugh.

Joy settling over

tiring earth.

Finally Home

I won’t forget
the way you gave
yourself away:

and candy.

A smile always
following your exclamation,
I have goodies for you!

You knew joy,
even though I met you
when you lived what some
call a lonely life.

You put your all,
lthe widow
at the collection plate
giving her poverty,
rather than others and their wealthy.

You poured yourself
into the lives of everyone
around you.

Now, you rest
in the arms of our Father,
home at last in eternity’s
sweet grasp.

Side note: Today, I received a call a sweet older woman, whom I’ve known for a few years, passed away yesterday. We weren’t really close, as I was listening to the way she spoke about this restauraunt her husband and her used to go to and the way she always offered me candy. She always needed it for sugar, plus she had a sweet tooth. She was always baking, giving us cupcakes and cookies for every holiday it seemed. I hope there is an overflow of joy and sugary goodness in Heaven today. 🙂


We are driving.
You are prattling on
borderline true Southerner:
Them there houses, I like those.
Them there horses, I like them, too.

I am laughing without care
the sunshine blinding my eyes,
wind carrying lavender in the draw
of each new breath.

Torn is filling out the car
as I make impromptu hand gestures,
micmicing a heartbreak.

I look over and blue
takes me aback
along your sky line
laugh. I turn back
with quiet thought-

Mama, I sure do love
God, for memories
with you.