You’re not like the others. You’re not like the sand, shifting and eroding, ebbing and flowing as tide comes and leaves. or star—born, sparkle, implode. breath, comes, goes. there’s grace laced throughout Your royal robes and burning eyes, leaving no trace of former scars or lies. You love to forgive, You love to forget. You don’t count my mistakes. or look at my forsaken state of mind. but call me beloved, found, Yours… all along. this false reality—me me me—ice melting beneath, nowhere to go but sink, is taken in a blink. when You look at me. and taken, I...
everyone is invited to The Party. & once there, everyone has presents waiting to be opened. sadly, many choose to not accept their invitation. they don’t believe the good news of acceptance so they ignore their invitation in disbelief. of those who accept their invitation, many never open the presents given to them. some open a few presents while still leaving a pile of presents untouched. while the fewest group of all, are those who receive from the goodness of the Giver. they are of humble childlike meekness &, with simplicity, they accept the invitation to life & then go...
sometimes we compare our abilities to what other people can do. maybe I can play the guitar and sing, but, not like that guy over there can, so I devalue what I have based on what he has. this is so backwards! & sad. many people are waiting to use what God has given to them until they’re exceptionally-up-to-expectations-excellent. there’s nothing wrong with desiring excellence. but, in reality, we need to just step out in faith and do the thing. momentum begets momentum. & to practice is the way forward. we often feel like what God has given us to...
when a person bungee jumps, they’re depending on the cord to keep them connected, to keep them alive! we, too, need to live connected, to remain in the vine. ““I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides...
life can be like a bungee cord. you know— we cannot trust our feelings, because even though a bungee jumper feels the free fall, they are always held and connected. so let’s live connected to Father. even when we feel the gravity, there is a Love who keeps us safe. we can feel like we’re falling, but the Lord. but the Lord is our saving line of hope. He keeps us, leads us with cords of love “I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. to them I was like one who lifts a little child...
1 inch octopus tongue Christmas morning 3 watts firefly butt 88 sunshine beam smiles 9 cups pebbles, sprinkles, dew medley 1 pound warm fuzzies 4.3 yaks For the frosting: 2 whale songs 1/4 cup daisy doilies 11 minutes wind chime melody top right corner of sunrise from September 5, 1542 Mix well.
escaped to the woods but the pain followed unlit fire pit forgot spatula no meat to flip my tent rips wind flips paper leaves dirt carpet catches trees’ sheddings and my eye drips, salty, sad hands waiting, empty head, a mob of confusion poison crowdsurfs thoughts drowning in illusions unsure not safe but my flesh tent will be okay the stars are trying to get in they knocked yesterday, looked at my failing estate, said “yes.” then dropped their stations, to shine within me so I’m still camping on this site with the port-a-potty and the squirrels my camp grill’s...
beach carpet—hot, dry, composite of miniature shell mirrors, pebbles, & sand molecules. each tiny bit composing a yellow shore blanket. i splay on this mosaic—my own music a collage made of millions of cells, notes, dancing, making me. each atom a party room of song & redemption long—longer than my eye can see the blue waves echoing off horizon edge. here i am. You brought me here, a bookmark in time, a pause. a place to be—just You & me. so here we are, together, on Your island beach. Your island beach where You take every memory every tear, each...
clown. forced, fake, makeup caked, dressed to make you think of joy but on the inside a crying mess. farce! that’s all earth offers—pretend mirage happy like chasing wind, never full. a total lie. but a lie that can lead us to look for who is life! because happy is real. genuine in out true happy. rainbow on rain joy! real happy. a snail snails slowly along, happy as can be just the way he is—slime trail & all! no rock complains about sitting still. no cloud compares herself to lighting in jealous huffs. no,...
