Cheesy Poetry Tuesday

In a day I’m suddenly different and that’s not a bad thing

On Friday I was tired, overwhelmed and a little lonely

Saturday I woke up loved and filled with excitement about life

Sunday I found gratefulness, appreciation and worship

Monday I was ready to conquer the world (minus the centipede I discovered in my living room who’s probably still creepy crawling around the house somewhere)

Today I’m reflective and completely at peace

I’m basking in contentment at the life I get to lead


In a day I’m suddenly different and that’s not a bad thing

I want to grow and change all the ugliness in me

Some might think that strange while they embrace the faults they see

I think I’d rather become more thankful, more loving, more content

I think that these things make me free

Nothing to hold me back as I press on toward tomorrow, I move from glory to glory

In a day I’m suddenly different, but everyday, I’m me

Unruly Tongue

From the outside looking in (or the inside looking out) I find myself wondering why I’m saying what I’m saying.

It’s that crazy moment when the spirit is screaming for me to zip the lip and I’m still going and realizing somewhere in the middle that I already regret what I let slip out.

Ah, unruly tongue, I want to wrangle you. I’d like to wrap my arms around the python and squeeze. Maybe it’s to prove that I have mastery over me. Maybe I’d like to show some fruit instead of being a cursed fig tree. Maybe I just don’t like messing up. Whatever the reason, can I undo what I’ve done? Can I suck the words back into my lungs and pretend it never happened?

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison” James 3:8


At the end of the day, there’s grace. I’ll stand up again, awake and ready. I’ll try to tame my mouth but the truth is, I am utterly dependent on the Comforter. Only the Holy Spirit can remind me to wrangle my words and reveal to me the truth about my heart. He is my ever-present help. Through him I can make it through this crazy world with tongue and flesh in check, ready to lay my life down again on the altar of grace.

Then when I’ve messed it all up, he wraps me up in his love, showers me with mercy and covers me with peace. I can’t help but fall more in love with him daily. So I’ll press on today with this my goal, “O Lord, open my lips,And my mouth shall show forth Your praise.” Psalm 51:15. Maybe today I’ll learn to bite my tongue a little harder before it bites me.

Lazy Soldier

My quiet time is evolving. Where I once sat cozy on the couch with coffee on the table beside me and a mountain of books, three different translations of the Bible, a devotional, whatever Christian living book I happened to be in the middle of etc., now I sit with baby on one arm and tablet or IPhone in the other perusing my Bible app and the R.A. Torrey book I downloaded with my Kindle. I sneak in verses from the “real” paper and binding version of the Bible here and there throughout the day when passing by. It’s not bad, just a different experience.

This morning I was reading in Jeremiah and then Matthew and what kept coming to me was that the amount of relationship we have with God is entirely up to us. He constantly encourages us to seek Him. In that, in our seeking, He is faithful to be found and to draw near to us. We hold in our hands the ability to either be near Him or distant. Not the most earth shattering revelation but as I adjust to my new routine, I find myself needing to sneak in moments of intimacy with the Lord. I have to grab a scripture here and there instead of spending an hour soaking up the richness of the word. I have to remind myself to pray when I’m glued to the chair being a mommy. All of the sudden, my relationship and intimacy with God isn’t easy or easily attained. I have to dig for it. I have to seek and pursue and want it desperately, something that admittedly, I forget to do sometimes. I’m starting to think this is a good thing.

As we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties the inmost strength of the heart is developed.” – Vincent Van Gogh

“And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.” Matthew 11:12

We tend to fight for and work for the things that matter the most to us. I so often hear people complain that they have no time to read the Bible or no time to pray and I can understand this completely. It is difficult to carve out moments in the day when the demands of this world can be stilled in the mind long enough to truly focus on scripture. It is difficult to silence the voices of this world that press into our minds (all the things to be done, all the things said to us, all the happenings around us) long enough to engage in active and meaningful prayer. I contend that in those difficulties, we can attain the greatest prize. We, with violent persistence, can resolve to fight for that which really matters. We tiptoe clumsily through this mundane existence, watching life go by us and forget that this is merely a drop in the ocean of eternity. This life, this here and now, is fleeting and only that which is eternal will matter. Shouldn’t we diligently fight to find those moments of clarity? Shouldn’t we run with all that we are to the wellspring and remember to drink deep?

I fear I have become a lazy soldier. I pray today that I will begin to violently run toward that which matters. I pray that in that pursuit, I might become strong. I pray that in ALL things, I would learn to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. At the end of the day, that is the prize and nothing else matters.

IMG_0421 IMG_0423 IMG_0498Sword Drill



It’s been awhile since I took a moment to stop and spend a few moments at the keyboard. This is mainly due to the odious fact that in times when I need to release that spark of divine thought the most, I am tempted and often accede to occupying my mind with lesser things that require no thought or even slight use of intellect. Instead of tapping into the source of comfort, I so often delve into the well of apathy, a quality I wish I could observe like a speck in someone else’s eye rather than staring blankly at the beam obstructing my own. Either way, it’s been an eventful couple of weeks.

One week ago, I gave birth to my fourth child. He’s heaven wrapped up in baby skin so soft and kissable that I am forced by a power so much greater than me, to stop and breathe him in. I revel in tiny fingernails and the way he can spread and curl his toes. It is another reminder in this dilapidated world, that God not only exists, but creates with brilliant stroke, the most beautiful artwork. His hand reaches into the deep and molds and fashions perfection.

I recently heard of a study which showed a high percentage of people turned to faith in God after having a child because they felt they had witnessed a miracle. Truly, they have. My mind reels at the thought of someone looking into the marvel that is childbirth and a newly birthed baby and walking away unconvinced that there is a creator.

I write this now, with baby in one arm, partly to share our joy with you and partly to remind myself in the days to come, that I cannot forget to pour out that which is in me. Only in releasing what is given, can I attain more. Only in attaining fresh vision and revelation, can I continue to grow. Only in growth, can I teach or inspire those around me, my children, my sphere of influence.

Welcome little one! I am so in love!