in beauty.

instead of bacon for breakfast,
I ate burritos—bean & cheese.
I thought of nothing but the way
you want to give me joy in exchange
for any bitterness I have toward people,
places, myself I can’t change. I walk down
the hall, watch the light from the window dance
across the wall and stare like the child you see
inside, lost in love you’ve trapped

fmf: bacon. this is probably one of the most interesting prompts I’ve done since joint this community. I saw it last night and said,”bacon?” quite a few times aloud. *insert laughing emoji here*

Pushing back the blues

  For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless. (Psalms 84:11, NIV) Needs a bit more shading, but will be up in my etsy shop (where I’ve started putting my favorite drawings) sometime this weekend hopefully. God is really shifting my focus around. To above and behind. (& this makes me want to watch Toy Story..) To  look at the light in the midst of my blue. Ex. Ridding of books for my soul to exhale a little. To let Him love me. Also, I just realized Jesus’ walk was blameless because he did not sin & He dwells inside me, making me blameless. That is very eye opening for me.

again, what’s wrong?

she lays out

before the sun

& does not know 

why among birds,

motors–a sniffle

comes to her ears.

she turns a question

over with a side, God,

why must i swear i’ve

heard the world mourn?

Author’s Note: when I get alone with my thoughts under a blue sky, fears come into the light. I have this thing where I think someone (when no one is around me) is crying. Sometimes I think it’s Jesus crying inside me. Or interceding with wordless groans I don’t understand.

Most of the time, I think I’m crazy. Or very, very sensitive.

Or on high alert for something not even happening.

Over-active mind. Party of 1. That’s me.

when he never sought my smile anyway

in the dark, i fever

a sickness i don’t under

stand. i stare shadows

moving toward me–so

says my mind. trembling,

i hide my face. remind

myself: in you, i take

refuge. the dark is light 

to you. flash a light 

against the wall.

nothing. 

i watch them 

again, think

i see your robe, 

but i should not

be afraid. for you

are love & to run

into fortress arms;

false guilt falling 

out sweat. tears

waiting spill 

on your feet.

when morning 

awakes me

to alarm a

death, my

heart does 

not gather 

in conclusion

i should remain

a liar’s tease–


Author’s note: last night, my body started sweating as if I had something to shed. I sat out in the rain for awhile yesterday, talking about Heaven, and smelling flowers on the breeze. before rain came, I laid on my back, staring at the sky, and feeling as if Heaven moved closer to me. It’s something to be able to be still before The Lord, and you legs tremble, your heart beating loud enough to remind you He is God.

And He loves me too much to let me believe those lies. Though I don’t feel good, He is faithful. He has given me the strength to look up into the sky, & say, I can wait on you.

by the hem

  

I know I’ve been talking about this song for at least two other posts, but that’s probably because God knows these lyrics are like a prayer to him. 

Because I’m good at faking it. The “I’m fine, I don’t need help” persona. Is that the right word?  I’m good at keeping silent about how I feel because I don’t know how to explain what God sees inside my heart. That asking for help hurts. Asking for love risks rejection, more from people around you, than God. When searching for God, it is coming with everything you are: fears, fragility, pride, and hoping his robe feels as light as his burden. Which I (or any of us) never are to him.

He’ll lift the veil when he is ready, but until then I am left with the mystery of his love. His desire for me.

Also, I really want to give Sara Groves all these drawings I’ve done of her lyrics. And hug her. And say thank you. 

That’s be one heck of a mystery if she ever stumbled upon this. I think I’d conclude it was God, though.

tears fall, soaking downturned weakness

2 am found me
staring up night
lighted ceiling—
shadows shift
all around. my
head is three times
bigger from the light
of my phone. i cringe,
thinking an angel (or
demon) tiptoed at the
foot of my bed. my eyes
close seconds before i see
her head blurry inside
the coffin—the last place
i will remember her lay.
i gasp in fear, opening
to the nightlight room.
i tell you i am too jumpy,
deciding to bury my face
in new flower printed pillowcases.
fire & blood greet me—i hear screams
in my head, turning on my back &
see her face again: blurry
& bloody. i watch the face morph
into a blurred man—he is
sneering, laughing at how easily
i am frightened. & i softy whimper
for you, the holy one, who provides
escape, for me, deflated by darkness
i’m too blinded by. jesus, i couldn’t
scream your name, whispering
the sung suggestion in my ears—
help me let her go. & then the words
sound her’s: you can’t let me go—

The closer I move toward Jesus, the more it feels all my fears I’ve had as a young girl, have trapped me almost in box. I know Jesus fights all the fear of the dark/death (and this he took for me)/unknown/abandonment for me and the devil can’t touch me, being his child, but I sincerely hate the devil, how he makes me cry. he also makes me se how i need Jesus. How much his prayer, “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.” has to become what i say over myself before I sleep, or may not get any ever again. And the breakdown I had last night, showed me once again, how easily I get entangled in dark. How I think dark means Jesus is angry and at any moment he could take me. But His Word says, the dark is light to him and he’s slow to anger. And he is like a shepherd, hugging his lambs close to his heart. And he hears the cries of those who call on him. And he fights for me, i need only be still. and he doesn’t abandon/forsake his child.

And he is a shield & lifter of my head. And he has plans to prosper me & not to harm me. See, he makes all these promises to me. & the devil tries to get me to focus on how Jesus couldn’t possibly come through. I’ve been in the dark too long with this void he couldn’t possibly fill. Well, Devil, he also says that when his word goes out, it doesn’t come back void.

And I’d rather wait with this tiny seed of faith, than walk by my sight, which has failed me time & time again.

So, you can go away.

those he can’t bear goodbye (everyone)

the sun falls
below vision line—
the pink spots
you get behind
those lids you close.
telling goodnight to this day—
remains a glimpse inside
Love’s light, a photographic
memory he always keops
of we

i realize this is the third time i’ve posted today. it’s been an emotional day(s). lack of sleep. no desire to eat. tears. intense talks with Jesus. All have left me weary, but there is a joy inside my soul, slow & steady & expectant on him.. Looking up at sunset tonight through the blinds, i felt a tiny smile spread across my face. and a small whisper in my heart: i haven’t forgotten you.

he’s being extremely patient, as he promises he will always be. i could cry over that fact. he really is the love that will not let me go. he lets me sit and talk or stare or try to push back tears he knows i can’t keep. at this moment, i love he let me be born in spring, during  national poetry month. i wonder if his heart swelled three times over today.

i love you, Jesus.

truth is, you love me quiet

o great God—
be small
a breath,

in-out
light above
doubt night

cares tell
you’re not
here. holy

gaze never
slumber. precious
in your sight, i un

move you. how
well pleased
you are. Son

i am not dove
descending
blessed shoulder;

appearance never
brought you asunder
as hu(man) heart

you treasure. living
water springs up,
cooling grievance

i asked never
bear. hear me
now, tiny inside

early morning
darkness—mercy
your child pleads.

My friend, Michelle made this, and it being 3:30 a.m. (this won’t go up til ten, because i’m finally sleepy..) i decided to write a piece based on the title. it’s beautiful. i probably could write a lot of poems on that alone. Thank you, Michelle, for being exactly who you are–creative, beautiful, compassionate. And shining that lovely light. 🙂 there’s something magical about writing this early with Ellie Holcomb stirring up my heart. So much peace.