The story of Leah, often overshadowed by her sister Rachel, portrays a neglected and weary woman finding solace in the God who saw and heard her. Despite societal disgrace and personal injustice, Leah’s life ultimately shaped the lineage of the Messiah. Her untold suffering resonates across centuries, showcasing God’s ability to bring beauty from ashes. … More A Poem: Weary Girl
The following post is the final part of a series describing my story of deconstructing my Christian faith and reconstructing it within orthodoxy rather than choosing to deconvert. Make sure to read up on Part 1 and Part 2 before moving on! Where Else Would I Go? There’s a song by John Mark Pantana that goes like this: … More Deconstruction: your faith has saved you, Part 3
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
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
I can’t count how many times I’ve been in my own home and said to myself, “I just want to go home.” But there was nowhere to go. Left with a kind of existential angst and unmet longing, in moments like these I’m usually reminded that what I’m really longing for is completeness and for … More An Exile and a Stranger
Grace is the free gift of God’s enablement. – Mildred Bangs Wynkoop I am a living thing, with a body, a soul, and a mind — living, even with a body broken, sometimes unfamiliar; living, even with a soul sometimes unexplainably sick; living, even with a mind finite, failing me into frustration. I am a … More A Poem: Living
We’ve reached the final day of Advent – all that we’ve waited for is about to be birthed in the very life of Christ. In remembering and observing Advent the last month, I have a small idea of what the people of Israel must have felt for hundreds of years as they waited for deliverance … More One Last Thought: on Advent