my baby sister is having a baby.
a little boy.

i am so excited for her,
and proud that she still calls on the name of the Lord.

may he be a man of God,
a servant of all,
and a shepherd to the lost and blind sheep.

I couldn’t sleep last night and I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Once I re-drifted away, I had a dream.
My precious husband and I were out and about traveling, with many friends, old and new…
And he kept going off with other people, ignoring me as if I didn’t exist.
Eventually he transformed into a man of my past who wounded me with a callous heart.

It ended with my declaring I couldn’t be with him anymore.

I woke up in with the warmth of someone near, reminding me
It was only a dream.

After thinking it through, I know it is fear manifested.
but not of Ricky, but more of the Lord.

Fear that He has forgotten me.
Fear He has left me behind.
Fear He has abandoned me.
Fear He will change, in an instant, to the old wounded false image I’ve had of Him.

The kind that stings so deep.

It’s a simple war, easily overcome.
it’s a war none – the – less.

“He is good”, I say under my breath, while sorting documents and checking emails.

“I shall not be forgotten.”

The wrestle will find us all,
And in the end,
We’ll all win.


so there are these people i follow on blogspot.
i've been following them since i was 18.
that's 5 years.

i would just randomly click on their myspace,
which lead to their flcker, which lead to their blogspot.

creepy? i dunno.

i kept doing it mostly to steal quotes
and their outfits fascinated me.

they all moved away from each other.
grew up.

one, a girl who use to write about her love for Jesus,
and the beauty of communion and longing,
the glory of knowing Him,
and His invitation...

is now a lesbian living half way across the country, and believes God loves that she is fully who she is now.

another one lives and parties in NY for her job,
she is a socialite for a living.
she use to write about Jesus drawing her near...

another posts pictures and poetry and movie stills from the 1950s.
she is caught on camera at parties with cute mixed drinks and the latest new outfits.
sometimes she mentions Jesus, with regret in her syllables and allegories.


i watched little steps.
i read small words.
i saw the heart be overtaken.

i heard a sermon today by Dana Chandler. my heart got angry as she talked about His love for us,
because I don't feel loved.
and I don't feel loveable.

i repented.

her life goal, she stated, was to love God more tomorrow than today.
that she would not look back at her "fiery days of youth and zeal"

but only grow in

mike bickle use to say that the greatest mark of a man was he who never gave up
in silence
in slander
in a life that turns out so different than our 18 year old dreams.

i wonder.

some people claim i'm super uptight. with movies, with music, with this and that and this and that. you give too much you think too much you want too much you care too much.
i don't think they understand that it's my survival. i'm fighting a bloody war for my soul. that it would still say, "He is good and I believe."

that I would still say ,
"i count it all as loss."

anyways: it's harder than i thought.. just as they said. just as i see.
"there seems to be a mountain of obstacles preventing people from being where their hearts want to be. the astonishing thing is that the battle for survival has become so 'normal' that few people really believe that it can be different. oh how important, discipline, community, prayer, silence, caring presence, simple listening, adoration, and deep, lasting faithful friendship. we all want it so much, and still the powers suggesting that all of that is fantasy are enormous. but we have to replace the battle for power with the battle to create space for the spirit" -henri nouwen



"Reveal Your presence,
And let the vision and Your beauty kill me,
Behold the malady
Of love is incurable
Except in Your presence and before Your face."

-st. john of the cross (song of the soul and the bridegroom)

manna, here today and gone tomorrow.

high heels. Indentions into the base, and we squeal because we can.

Eyes closed, and we remember.

For me its

Warm baths, and blankets and sheets.

almost march – and the birds keep singing.

No springtime at the beach, for there’s always a glare on the windshield.

Yesterday is a shallow pond, when stepped in through today.

Yesterday is over and gone.

Yesterday is in the grave.

Today. Today today.

Pull apart the sticky pages, john’s song of His praying,

and can I feel myself within its pages…?

Is that fair?

I was sent away.

I was banished to the wanderings, like a leper in a colony.

Or so I see. Or so I say. Or so it seems

These wounds leak all over the floor.

Your mind is made up, though, isn’t it?

Who am I to question?

Where is my case?

David cried out for a resting place.

And a he fought, and fought and fought.

What is good?

What is good?

I think I’m angry,but I can’t admit it.

Brass locks shut,you gave me no keys.

Deaf and blind and naked I came to you.

Yet you leave me standing.

Same as before.


You said You’d come to me.

Yet I’m not worthy.

You said You live inside of me.

Yet I’m numb to it all.

This is the asking, again.

This is the asking, again.


"The prophet is a man who feels fiercly. God has thrust a burden upon his soul, and he is bowed and stunned at man's fierce greed. Frightful is the agony of man; no human voice can convey its full terror. Prophecy is the voice that God has lent to the silent agony, a voice to the plundered poor, to the profaned riches of the world. It is a form of living, a crossing point of God and man.

God is ragining in the prophet's words."

-abraham j. heschel, the prophets



"the prophets must have been shattered by some cataclysmic experience in order to be able to shatter others." - the prophets, abraham j. heschel.

set us ablaze.

Today was a normal day, with a normal ending.

I think that's the best part of marriage. I love the normal.

For us, normal is living in the tension of the mundane. Trips to Target are now among the highlights of our week, mixed with the brief glimpses into eternity. Household chores and trips to the grocery store have become the avenue for fellowship. And that is why marriage is so great.

To have fellowship in the mundane.

And in the mundane is our glory. In the mundane He is making us whole, and in the mundane we wait. We wait for our blessed Hope. Our fellowship whispers, come Lord Jesus, our fellowship is with You.

set us ablaze.



I love the description of God's Word printed in the Gideon Bibles:

THE BIBLE contains the mind of God, the state of man, the way of salvation, the doom of sinners, and the happiness of believers. Its doctrines are holy, its precepts are binding, its histories are true, and its decisions are immutable. Read it to be wise, believe it to be safe, and practice it to be holy. It contains light to direct you, food to support you, and comfort to cheer you.

It is the traveler's map, the pilgrim's staff, the pilot's compass, the soldier's sword, and the Christian's charter. Here Paradise is restored, Heaven opened, and the gates of hell disclosed.

CHRIST is its grand subject, our good the design, and the glory of God its end.

It should fill the memory, rule the heart, and guide the feet. Read it slowly, frequently, and prayerfully. It is a mine of wealth, a paradise of glory, and a river of pleasure. It involves the highest responsibility, will reward the greatest labor, and will condemn all who trifle with its sacred contents.


to forsake the wisdom of this age, and choose that which seems foolish.
i am convinced, that i will be justified.

oh that he would turn our hearts from vanity, and choose to awaken us who slumber
::Christ in me... my hope of glory:::

-r valdez
i see beauty in the midst of the mess
i see hope in the chaos
i also see a stirring in the hearts of people.
and the One who makes the woeful heart sing.

 ...and in Him my faith rests.
so come, and expand Your kingdom in the hearts of men
for zeal for your house has consumed me

-by r.valdez.
"lovers bloom in the arid desert wind. we are traveling across a vast desert. we didnt choose the desert. it chose us. it is in our bones. we are the children of abraham, of isaac, of jacob. we are a nomadic people called to pilgrimage. at times, we may deny the desert. with enough music and singing and dancing and laughter, we might just drown out the pangs deep within our soul. yet sometimes, the deep longing throbs loud enough to wake us up and remind us of our soul-parching thirst for the fountain of divine love. in these moments of absolute weakness, of absolute dependence, we can do nothing but simply ache for the presence of God. this helplessness, this longing, this desire, is a sign that love has already reached out to use and is drawing us ever closer, ever upward into His heart. but the desert has so drained us that we are too weak to try to impress Him. we cannot perform amazing feats of prayer and fasting. we cannot muster the strength to stand tall and go charging forth as valiant warriors. instead, like a mumbling drunk or dying Savior, we simply cry out, "i thirst." and He comes and satisfies our thirst with a spring of love that knows no bounds." -doug floyd



lord you have my heart,
and i will search for Yours
let me be to    You

a  sacrifice.