Day 61



Like a skin

You are shedding slow 

the pride within me –

not the, hey, look at me,

I got this! I’m fine! though 

we both know internally 

I act this way. You’ve steadied 

me each time this last week I said, I need 

your hand. Would you help out with this, 

please? I need to go home – I don’t feel 

good. I’m not sure if I said the last part, 

but I remember her gentle reassurance 

that it was fine if we went home and 

watched Miranda on the couch. 

All of these were different scenarios, but 

each made me confront my fear of 

rejection –

each met with, yes, here! I’ll hook you up. 

(Not sure those were exact words either). 

I thinkthe wind is for you. 

She cranked up the air conditioner and 

opened up the windows. If it gets too 

cold, let me know. I know she was cold, 

but she was trying to cool me down while 

I sang to distract myself from the pain. 

Each time it was a reminder: Your grace is 

all I need. Your power is made perfect in

weakness – my asking for 

help/connection when I feel I least 

deserve it, don’t know if I will be met 

with rejection. 

But You are here. You are aquatinted with 

all my ways. 

You know every word I will utter

before I speak it – the worry, the  

fear, the joy, the mystery, You know it all. 

Could You be this good, God? 

Understanding me

so intimately I can’t deny the ways You 

woo me?

I want to see. And thank You at every thrill that finds me. 


your tender haired girl 

Ps. Seriously? That was fast. I’m pretty sure that’s Reba doing the kfc commercial. Ugh, it makes me miss grandma and the way we would watch Reba’s show,  and grandma  would say ‘Moron’ like Reba. I miss her, God. A lot. It made me laugh or smile every time. Grief isn’t fun. Especially when it hits out of the blue.  



The last two stanzas in this poem are 😍. I have no better way to describe it.


In pride living large upon the tops of mountains;
In pride I moved ahead and
soon found myself in company with the wicked.

My heart grew dark with the ways of this world
I stumbled and fell, dashed open my head.

My wounds cried out and your grace came to rescue.
In humility I found joy.

I’ll inhabit my smallness before you
I’ll live in the dust I am made of.

From there your hand lifts me
To abide in the place you went to prepare.

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but not without you

Jesus laughs
with little children,
she said.

in my memory
we are clasped –
Your left for my right.

laughter escapes
the smiling mouth
awed at my curiosity –

I was young, tiny
in the hold of Love,
vistas blue above.

green trees before,
beside and mt Father –
how well I am known

within my heart.
pride has ensnared
my foot – Daddy,

I want to be right!
I can fix this – – –
I want to grow up,

like you,

this pretty much my last night and this last week. Thank you, Michelle for inspiring the beginning of this. 🙂 I can’t get the words out of my head. I’m so thankful for you. ❤

He came to me like rain this morning. And just like that butterfly I saw while singing this yesterday. He’s got something just up ahead. It’s probably more of Him. 🙂

if i could forget as he 

This was scary and somewhat healing to draw. The top is are the lyrics to All Right Here by Sara Groves. The bottom are waves of all the things I can’t forget about myself. Like being weak, pride, fear of death, leaving school because of fear, urge to save people (playing God). Fear of God’s hand, wanting to be seen by the world, divorce, rejection…the sun burning down these thoughts. I’ve realized I have so much fear and shame. it just blows my mind God chooses to forget all that, when it’s always before me. I’m a fool not to believe that’s not love.

Please continue to help me, God.

There may be more drawings coming with this woman’s lyrics. I can’t pull away. I seriously wish I could give her a hug for writing such lines that make me look deep in myself.

Not that I don’t already…

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.


Those who seek my life lay their snares; those who seek my hurt speak of ruin and meditate treachery all day long. But I am like a deaf man; I do not hear, like a mute man who does not open his mouth. (Psalms 38:12, 13)

slanderous is such a tongue
with boosted ego waiting for fill-
sticks & stones bring about remarks
bruises would never ask to keep.

mouth agape, dirtier phrases escape-
verbal mud sinking beneath skin,
settling, longing roots accepting defeat-
a seasonal upkeep.

wary faces cloud an upward view,
snarled smiles spitting upon soil
trembling, a flower sways, firm still honored promises, silent–