We laid the past to rest, down in the dirt, buried deep, thinking—hoping—it was the end. But then the flowers grew— memories in bloom across the grass— a portrait of life with not a hint of loss. Spring casts these foreshadows— the curse lifted, the tears gone, the work of God’s fingers making all things … Continue reading Foreshadowing
Sometimes birds spread their wings and fly far, far away— beyond the mountains, across the seas, searching the ends of the sky on the back of a wandering breeze. ••• But sometimes they stay, and that is when we hear them sing.
How dreary! Winters in the South— grey trees against the mournful sky— weeping, sulking, drudging in the cold. ••• Make my heart like winters of the West— unending sky that gives and gives the snow— swirling, glittering, hopeful in the cold.
Another dark day— the sky, a low, furrowed ceiling; the skeleton branches, dripping tears, and all the world, gray. ••• What have I done? Drained the azure from the sky? Stripped the trees of green? Forever blotted out the sun? ••• What a dismal, wretched place! And yet I sense You here— moving closer through … Continue reading On the Dark Days
Maybe— if I tried— I could take a pen and scrawl my name in poetry on the world— again, again, again. But, Lord? What if You just took my hand, and we wrote on some small heart Your name? ❤️ -
The mountains stand so tall— rugged rock against the sky. And You ask me to move them—why? You know my hands are small— they bruise and break and bleed with every strategy I try. And the mountains stand, unmoved. I have no mustard seed— I’ve looked, digging with my hands in my own dirt. And … Continue reading Mountain Moving
Dark world, but how the streets shine— scarlet, then emerald! And sparkling on the windshield, rain, the gentle applause— this day is done.
My car hates to wait, pushing hard against the brakes till the light turns green.
Puddles, unlikely windows to the sky, small, impure, vanishing with passing day, trace a gaze-inviting glimpse of the grandeur of the heavens. May the Grandeur of Heaven trace Himself on me, making me, though small, impure, vanishing with passing day, an unlikely window to the Sky.
A month or so ago, I came to Isaiah in the normal course of reading through my Bible. Confession: in the past when I have read Isaiah, I mostly zoned out because I had this idea that since it was prophecy, I wouldn’t be able to understand most of it, anyway. But this time through, … Continue reading Isaiah
Gratefully His 