tummy blender hill bender hair dryer screaming higher, rollercoaster adrenaline. black & white abc’s absorb tea steam bathes in afternoon sunlight cat on lap, book lover dream. tall friends of brown & green lead eyes up with their branches waving in breeze fresh air canyon view flowerswild & sparkly dew, hikers paradise. board game night camaraderie around the table laugh till snort, pee—the gang’s all here. travel high flying jet to new everything exotic cuisine like cuy bright geometric patterned shawl funky music hola que tal? adventure junkie delight.what’s your idea of fun?have you thought of the Presence of God,...
life is like one breath, like one blink. so let’s embrace, even cubicle space. after all, life is now; this is it! there is no rehearsal, we are here, performance fit! let’s embark on a quest for the good. find the joy in all things and you will never be without in the drought. enjoy Yeshua.& never underestimate the power of the small—pollen, seeds, a yes.& may that seed given to you from heaven find a yes in your heart, like how fuzzy yellow pollen dot, carried by a busy bumble bee travels to populate earth with beauty. or a...
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 am....
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 share with...
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 in...
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 to the cheek,...
1 inch octopus tongueChristmas morning3 watts firefly butt88 sunshine beam smiles9 cups pebbles, sprinkles, dew medley1 pound warm fuzzies4.3 yaksFor the frosting:2 whale songs1/4 cup daisy doilies11 minutes wind chime melodytop right corner of sunrise from September 5, 1542Mix well.
escapedto the woodsbut the painfollowedunlit fire pitforgot spatulano meat to flipmy tentripswind flips paper leavesdirt carpetcatches trees’sheddingsand my eyedrips,salty, sadhandswaiting, emptyhead,a mob of confusionpoison crowdsurfs thoughtsdrowning in illusionsunsurenot safebut my flesh tent will beokaythe stars are trying to get inthey knocked yesterday,looked at my failingestate, said “yes.”then dropped their stations, to shine withinmeso I’m still campingon this site with the port-a-potty and the squirrelsmy camp grill’s lit now though,I didn’t do it.the rocks started singing and Icouldn’t help butjoin in.now we’re clappingmy toes tappingI can’t stopsmilinginsidethe lantern’s litthe hot dogs are cookingthe forest still smellslike forestand my hair’s the same...
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 broken pottery piece...
