Glorious

What makes glorious life?

When pen and plight, too numb, collide

What beauty permeates stone?

Till I, in He, resound alone.

We talk, so often of death and pain

Yet forget the living

And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see

Or maybe I can…

Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land

Either way, pen in hand, write my story.

I’ll go

Who am I?

If I were a mere mortal in the land of the living

You know that place where truth and grace collide

And the maker of heaven called me beautiful in spite of my ugly

And I set out to show the world the immensity of glory

And the rug beneath me failed to hold the weight

And the ground shook at the sound of Your voice

And I am me and you are infinite

What can I offer?

A prayer to the God who sees

A song to the voice of the mute

I am a disabled veteran in the land of the living

No claim to fame just a life sacrificed at the altar of service

And in my case, badly offered

Bruised and unworthy

But still showing up

Still fighting

Still ready to stand and say it’s all worth it

Bring it on world, I’m here standing on weak knees, ready for tomorrow

Warrior with broken feet…standing on hope.

Wake me up!

Confessions of a Narcissist’s Wife

I will never be myself again.

I will apologize for every statement.

Okay get it. I will walk on eggshells while the earth shatters.

I will stand alone beneath the weight of injustice.

I will take responsibility.

Nothing is anything apart from you so I will hide

And tomorrow might be better or not

And today is a drop in the bucket of eternity.

Because I can’t long for you anymore while you throw me under the bus.

But that’s life in the land of the living and the sun will rise and I will forgive and we will call it growth.

That’s just movement in the stagnant waters while the void calls for justice.

I will apologize.

I will find my own fault in your weakness.

I will stand alone.

I will bear the weight of the world while you cower.

Tomorrow, bring your anchor.

Time in a Bottle

If we can’t find time and bottle it neatly, can we walk into tomorrow knowing it mattered?

If today is a blip, is tomorrow a wonder?

What if the world stops now?

Am I enough?

I am who He says I am.

Maybe if we lived each day with intention…

Maybe that’s a pipe dream.

What is a “pipe dream”

Legit, what is the entomology of that phrase.

I’m too lazy to look tonight. And I just used “Legit” as an actual word.

Maybe tomorrow…

Says the girl at the end of the world looking out into the void.

Jesus, help me focus on today!