I know the love of God the most when it rains. As a little girl in the Pacific Northwest, before I knew about bad things beyond a scraped knee, it rained. It was a consistent rhythm, and I was a sponge for it as the nostalgic walls of childhood innocence were building up deep in … More The Love of God Lives in the Dry Places, too
There’s a piece of scratch paper I have on my fridge with a quote in pencil written in my friend’s handwriting. She wrote this down several years ago in a spur of the moment when she was at my house, and she left it for me. It says this from Oswald Chambers: My goal is … More Joy is Secure
March woke me up with her atmospheric rivers, and unrealized crises, and pea-sized hail, and burdened sleep, and gentle rain, and school shootings, and warming sunbeams amidst brisk, prolonged Winter air and a cosmic war, and flooded fields and homes and roads and lives, and bright evening walks to look at the painful gift she … More A Poem: March in my bones
My deepest longing and most tender pain point is the desire to be seen. I mean, seen. I want the right people to notice when I’m wearing a mask and that I’m leaking out, even when I don’t realize it myself. I know this longing very well, and yet I still hide myself away behind … More To See & Be Seen
I am heavy with my own mortality, unawake to it until someone reminds me of Lent, the season a great cloud of witnesses remembered and embodied throughout 2,000 years — “from dust you came, to dust you shall return” — with the Hope in mind that the Son would rise again and with Him, we … More A Poem: Swallowed up by Life
I know I’m needy before I even come awake to it, but I only come awake because of its deep, isolated, long-ignored ache right smack in the middle of my chest. It feels like what a small puppy looks like sitting on the side of the road in the rain, alone. I almost can’t even … More On Neediness
Help me stop and look at what is remarkable around me — let me see what I thought was ordinary and recognize it as hallowed ground — help me to behold the sacred, and keep hold of it, even if I panic with holy fear, so aware that I am but dust — for even … More A Prayer: to recognize God
Over the years, “I love you” has become a platitude I haven’t wanted anymore; a statement so often full of feelings of affection and good intentions and empty of embodiment — and so the one to whom these words are given too often ends up crumbling because the support that should have embodied love was … More To My Fellow Christians: reclaiming the sanctity of Love
Will humility always feel like sudden death? Like arrows in my back that force me to the ground and leave me with just enough strength to drag myself a little further and cry out, have mercy on me, Son of David! Nothing left to give but a broken body and small breath in my lungs. … More A Poem: Humble One
I am guilty of keeping a record of wrongs. Each offense wrapped around my heart — the words like chains, gripping me, cutting deeper wounds, festering, bleeding, choking out any longing to love and remain. No strength of mine can break these chains away — I need a different set of hands, Ones with nail … More A Poem: Forgiveness