Read: Exodus 32 The inciting moment of Israel's decision to make a golden calf to be their god occurs when they saw that Moses delayed to come down from Mount Sinai. It had been forty long days of staying in one place, and the children of Israel couldn't sit still and wait any longer. They … Continue reading Trashing God for Idols: What Happens When We Can’t Wait for God
 There is a tree I love that stands next to the preschool where I teach, and though I rarely get a chance to look at it for long, I always enjoy a passing glance on my way into the chaos each morning or as I herd my group of three-year-olds up the hill to … Continue reading Deferred Hopes and Trees of Life
At my table, I would have feasted on sugar. But You refine my taste with vegetables, not sweet on my tongue, but grown sweet to my soul as I gain strength.
feel the thrill of going fast! the spine-chill of a sudden blast— the wind, the wind, the wind! and countless train tracks crossed! But in the end something is lost of sunlight cast upon the hill the full beauty standing still where one goes slowly.
My life has a limp and I shuffle along— swift and graceful as a turtle. Other lives have limbs built for speed and run majestically like cheetahs. My heart loathes to lose, but my head is in the game— I will limp on for You, and when I do, I only seem to lose.
We are fragile like the flowers, our hours sown with grief. Is it life—or a thief—that makes us and takes us, petal by petal to the wind? Ever closer to the end of all that ever almost was. We fade because of our inheritance— our parents left us death, and every breath, cut off from … Continue reading Life through Death
What if I told you about a country that executed thousands of its citizens every day? What if none of those citizens had committed a single crime? What if the facts didn’t matter because they had no rights to a trial? What if I told you that those citizens were the poorest, the weakest, the … Continue reading Choices
I was the girl in black, withering all away, the dreamer on the rack, beaten down with gray, the days were years, the years were centuries waiting for this day. All the yesterdays— those pale and hollow caves— all the tossing, turning ways of lying in the graves— the thirsts were flames, the flames were … Continue reading Alive
Mr. Robin— the gentleman in my yard— shirt of rust, tux of grey— standing still— thoughtful, grave— bowing politely before the feast.
The clench of pain, the darkness pressing; the future robbed, all longing wasted; the music quenched, the pleasure hollow; the loves in vain, the friendships fading; all losses sealed, the grief unbroken; all hope unknown, all roads unsteady; a failing breath, and death forever— if Jesus had not risen. .
Gratefully His 