Very Inspiring Blogger Award


Nominated by 🙂

Three things that inspired me today:

1. My mom’s uncanny ability to make me smile.

2. A tangelo.








Thanks for making me smile today, Syl. 🙂

Children of Christ

This is a collaboration I did a few days ago with my mother. I love getting to collab with different when writing, it helps me to look past myself and accept others and myself as who we are. If you would like to collab with me, feel free to comment this post.

In the streets of questioning the trees rejoice,
swaying with wordless truth:
Love is not hidden when the Son shines
so vibrantly from heights where longing agonizingly remains.

Shining beckoning from behind the clouds, the truth is known for He already set forth for all of us to see.

Come, stand inside the light-
face up to sky with outstretched hands,
hear the crying hearts looking for release from a war relentless with fight unable to end in strength only our own.

Take strength in your belief in Me, I will guide you through the winding paths where I am forever present, you need not fear the darkness My light will guide you.

After I am forever present,
My light will wrap its arms around you to warm you with My presence.

When He Calls, I Rise

Have you ever had an idea placed inside your head for weeks, but ignore it because you don’t understand it? Or, the fact that you have no idea how to start, and you feel very unqualified? Well, this is me and now the idea has made managed to find a door into my heart, refusing to leave.

Back story: A few months ago, I was taking a walk when all of these memories began presenting themselves in a book-like fashion. You know, beginning, middle, and end. They were all memories of a friendship that has helped me grow in Christ. When I got home, I sat on the floor, writing a poem with moments that had stuck out most to me. Each was centered around vulnerability, where I saw Jesus most clearly. I sent it off to her in an email with the subject line: Snapshots of His Glory.

Days after sending this, I stumbled upon the magazine, Guideposts. I became fascinated with the stories and how much hope was provided after I read each one. I had to stop myself from reading the whole magazine in one sitting. I’m not kidding. I even sent a story to them, hoping maybe I could open other people to the hope Jesus brings. Especially to those with disabilities. (CrippledatYourTable was inspired by my own disability: Cerebral Palsy.)

Still, the title of that poem was in the back of my mind after each story. Today I realized why: He (Jesus) wants me to start a magazine similar to Guideposts, but the focus on those with disabilities, and anyone who has been impacted by someone with a disability and seen His love. To make this different from Guideposts, it would be more art focused (poetry, paintings photography, stories, etc.)

Potential Problems:. 1.) I have no experience whatsoever in starting a magazine, which means I’m navigating this blindly. 2.) If anyone would actually be interested in reading a magazine like this. 3.) Material for this imaginary magazine. 4,) Money. 5.) A title.

There are probably more, but I’m not focused on those right now. I’m just interested in giving God glory, and He finally made it clear to me how I can do this. Would anyone be interested in helping me with, either by sending material, or partnering to help me make this come to life?

Comment this post or send an email to: if you are interested!

Teach Me Selfless

Once, I was of this world,
wanting nothing more to own-
to be my own.

Oh, what a glorious day when a card arrived, green as my envy, straight to my hands, no longer grieving for things to fill my need-want, really.
I was grown. I could buy. I could spend freely.

I may sound like a fool to you, but money makes me weary now.
constricts around my heart, like the persuasive snake who dumbfounded Adam & Eve to eat that knowledgeable apple, leaving wonder to a sinner’s prayer: why can’t I reach Your light with greed charting paths, without giving way to my dignity.

Poor, I remember telling my mother, is what I wanted to be.
“You can’t live on the street,” she’d tell me quickly, rationalizing that was the wrong way.
Jesus found who were willing to be His disciples if they dropped earthly delights & taught them the delicacies of love

Here we are holding grass between stingy fingers, hoping our facade won’t turn dusty before a grave hushes agape mouths declaring their glory.

Your rags is where my–our riches should be placed, free of guilt for taking ourselves away from disillusioning spotlights.

Beginning & Ending: I Am Dust

Identity? I just want to make sure I heard you correctly,
because if you’re looking at me a cripple is what you will see.
Maybe that’s just me,
or what I let this world define me.

Either way, I’m not looking to Him who went before & died so that I might give
Him glory-
if I was seeing clearly, I might know this isn’t my story,
and still, I find myself asking for healing.
So I can be “just like everyone else”
Yes, I can see your eyes looking over at me, pitifully-

But I’m at war with my fault lines on my outside, compared to everyone’s seemingly perfect inner & outer parts of the body.

And I know we all struggle, waging war with a persistent Enemy,
but I can’t help myself from falling victim to the snake in the form of a mirror feeding me ripened lies.

Might as well call me Eve,
if I were any wiser, the tree of knowledge would still have the apple
and suffering wouldn’t be worth defining.

In the silence, covered in shame,
I hear a less than audible whisper:
only in weakness can Christ be displayed.

Though I maybe walking slow
I’m embracing the perfectly wobbly gift
A body, thought from pure love
intricately made.