the ocean and the shore

I was away for so long that I came home with writer's block, but Thursday I had a flood of creativity that started with this. I'm happy to say that I'm finally writing again. Slowly but surely, I think I will finish the novel I'm working on when I'm not writing this poetry. 

The Ocean and the Shore 

Some days I am the ocean,

and You are my shore. 

As waves crash against 

the burning sand and

go back again,

lost in their wandering,

lost in the vastness of the sea,

oh God,

so do I wander and lose myself,

in the hopelessness of 

searching and longing for things

I think I'll never have 

but then I remember the shore 

and just like the ocean,

I return again to fall on the shoreline,

back again to You, my Lord,

the One my soul longs for,

in Your arms do I find all that fulfills

my longing and searching. 

Other days I am a single grain of sand

taken from the shoreline I know so well

and thrown into the harsh and vast sea

swirling and drowning amongst the billions

but then Your hand reaches out into   

the middle of the ocean

and there You've found me,

this tiny speck of sand,

in the hand of the Creator of everything.

Though I feel lost in it all,

You spotted me out amongst the many. 

How amazing it is that though

I felt swallowed up in the sea

the One who shaped the earth 

with His own hands and painted

the stars in the night sky 

and gave the wind it's power

and holds the oceans in His hands--

that same God picked me out,

of all the people He could have chosen,

He chose me even with my wandering heart 

and He called me to be His own. 

Kenya 2014

There are so many things I could write about, and one blog post will never be enough to describe all that happened on this trip, and though I have it all in a journal, and though I could type out my journal entries here, they would be far too personal to be placed permanently on the internet, so this is the best I can do. 

There's an indescribable bond that I feel formed before our plane ever took off on June 19th. This team that I was on became a family, and this bond we have is the one that comes through being united by the blood of Jesus Christ. This team of 16 went to Kenya, Africa. Together, we answered the calling of what we are to do as Christians. We're called to go into the nations to make disciples. So we took the gospel to the people of Kenya. 

Over the course of the past week, we were in ministry together. We shared the gospel, we shared testimonies, we put on a VBS program, we took the love of Christ and the freedom of salvation into prisons, and listing all that we did would not begin to describe how God worked through us and in us and in the people we spoke too. We listened to the Holy Spirit speaking through one another. One of my highlights for the week was when I was talking to three women with two of the girls on the team when we were out evangelizing and I sat there knowing the Holy Spirit was speaking through me.

We grew in our faith together and we encouraged one another and we were encouraged by those around us. I felt like I was stretched thin and overwhelmed by all that we did in one week, but it was God's way of placing me outside of my comfort zone and asking me to do things that I've never done before. I hope I showed willingness even if I was scared and nervous. We were all placed in situations where we would step outside of our comfort zones so we could grow. 

We were broken together. There were some days where our hearts were just broken by what we saw or heard. I was saddened to discover that a majority of the people we talked to, whether it was children in VBS, or students on a college campus, they all have a basic knowledge of the Bible and they all know about God, and they know that not everyone goes to heaven, but some people that I talked to think it's by works that they can get into heaven. They have no idea that Jesus Christ is the only way to forgiveness. I realized that even though they appear to believe in God and they appear to have a strong knowledge of the Bible (thanks to some kids that I worked with during vbs crafts I now know who Saul's father is), they still need to hear about the good news of Jesus Christ. I realized that this is why it's vital to us as Christians to go out on missions trips or simply to be on a mission here. People need the gospel, whether it's the college campus that we took it to in Kenya, or a college campus here or whatever. That's what we're supposed to do, isn't it? We have the testimony that we were wretched sinners, but God is gracious and merciful and because He loved us so much that He sent His Son to die for us, we should want to share the grace we've been given. 

We were humbled together. On Friday, we were at a gas station hanging out while the vans got oil changes. A man came by with a wheelbarrow of sugarcane  and some how we found an orphanage just down the road, a minute's walk from where we were. So we used the fact that we were stuck at a gas station to go take sugarcane to the kids. It was heartbreaking to see, and it was hard on all of us to see these abused and abandoned children, but we were encouraged when they sang praise to God for us. I was writing in my journal the day after coming home, and some might see that these kids have nothing, but they have absolutely everything. They have their Savior. While we were there, we heard the peace in their voices and saw the joy in their smiles that comes from having their faith and trust placed in the Father's hands. They sang praises to God while we were there, and one of the oldest girls prayed for us, and in her prayer we all heard the immense faith she has placed in God the Father's hands. While they sang their songs of praise and worship, I couldn't help but think, "Wow. They may be orphans, but they've become a family, united by the blood of Christ."

They have a Heavenly Father who provides for them and they're a little family. I felt that the team I was on wasn't very different. We had that same bond that brought us together. We had become a family when we arrived at the airport on June 19th, and just like the children we took sugarcane to, we're united by the blood of Christ. 

As I was journaling about this again Wednesday, Romans 8 came to mind. 

Romans 8:15-18 (ESV)

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have recieved the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. 

Over the course of this trip, every single one of us was shown how strongly God was in control. From missing our flight and staying an extra day in London to plans changing and returning to a college that we had gone to before, God was in complete control of all of it and though in the moment we couldn't see how it would be pulled together, we stepped forward and afterward we were shown how every single change of plans was God's way of redirecting us to someone who needed to hear the gospel. 

Proverbs 16:9 

The heart of man plans his way,

But the LORD establishes his steps. 

When we were at the hotel the extra night in London, I was reading in Jeremiah that night one of the verses that I read was perfect for what we were experiencing.  

Jeremiah 10:23

I know, O LORD, that the way of man is not in himself,

That it is not in man who walks to direct his steps. 

There are so many things I could say about this trip, or I could simply say the trip was wonderful and amazing, but that simply wouldn't do. I'm blessed to have been a part of a family that was always encouraging me throughout the week, and I'm honored to have seen them growing throughout it all. I'm truly amazed by the wondrous things God did this week. I'm thankful to Him that He gave me such an amazing opportunity. It's great to be home, but I miss my family/team already. <3

speak through me

This is what I wrote last night when I was struggling to write something that still needs to be written. 

God, I don't know what to say.

Lord, I pray You'll give me words.

Speak through me, Spirit!

Speak through me!

They're slow in coming

I don't know what I'm doing

I'm scared.

Father, I pray You'll give me

the words I need to say

because I'm lost

I don't know what I'm doing,

I've never done this before.

But You know my fears,

You know my insecurities.

Why do I list them here?

Why do I remind myself of

my fears and worries,

of my inability to know what to say,

when You are my strength

for You are with me,

and You've said so in Your word,

why do I fear, when You give me courage?

Why am I speechless,

when You give me words?

Lord, I pray You'll

remind me of these things

when I fail to remember.

I pray You'll give me the words,

the ones You want me to say,

the ones that need to be said.

I can only be thankful

for You bringing me here.

I can list my fears,

and list why I mustn't fear,

but it's nothing without praise--

praise for You, my Lord,

for bringing me to this point.

I would have nothing

worth saying if it weren't for You

No one would care for what I have to say

if it weren't for You

bringing me to people who care.

You've given me reasons to speak,

reasons to praise,

and for that I can only sing,

how great Thou art. 

untitled #1

I was at a stoplight yesterday thinking of my novels and writing, and how I've woven together so many words to create stories, lives and worlds, but I found myself daydreaming and marveling at all that God has created. 

I've built kingdoms of fiction and fantasy 

I've created beings from nothing 

I know their thoughts

I make them move. 

I've crowned kings and queens 

I caused betrayal and dissension 

and I've started wars and battles. 

I've built these kingdoms, and

I've torn them down. 

There are thousands of flaws 

in all I've created. 

Though I've sown together 

the words that have created 

all of these things,

I can never write enough words. 

There are trails of ink that 

swoop and sway into these poems

I write, but they'll never be enough. 

I've blotted out the imperfections 

until all that is left is everything necessary 

but I'll never make it perfect enough. 

But You, my Lord,

with words alone you spoke

all of earth into creation. 

You are perfect 

and though You've given me the gift

of creating fake worlds and people

and stringing words together 

to paint a picture 

and weaving them into a blanket so they're all connected,

to spill ink onto a page 

until it transforms into poetry,

it will never be enough,

my words will never be enough,

to fully express how thankful I am,

to fully express how much I love You,

My Savior,

and to fully describe the great lengths of Your love for me. 

My heart may overflow with words

that spill into black ink,

but Your heart overflows with love

so great that it spilled into Your blood

so my blackness would be washed as white as a blank page. 

let creation sing

"All creatures of our God and King

lift up your voices and with us sing

Oh, praise Him..."

The trees whisper of

what He's done.

The birds whistle about 

who He is.

The depths of the ocean's secrets

are none compared to the riches 

and depths of His love. 

The creatures creeping and crawling 

and howling and prowling 

on this earth,

they sing praise to Him their Creator. 

the lone wolves howl to the moon 

He hung in the heavens,

and they howl praises to Him

the whales sing their songs

in the ocean deep,

songs to their Creator. 

the birds chirp for Him 

who gave them voices to sing 

and wings to fly. 

The lions roar knowing

the mightiest of lions with 

the mightiest of manes

isn't mighty enough and

his roar isn't loud enough

to compare to Him who is mighty to save

and He who speaks, and then creates. 

The crow in the field

wants to believe that he finds

his own worm in the early morn,

but knows that his Creator

is also his Provider. 

The lilies in the field,

and all flowers that bloom,

think in their vanity that they're beautiful,

but they know in their souls that 

their Creator clothed them in such splendour. 

There was gossip in the trees' whispers,

there was chatter in the birds' chirps,

there was rumour in the whales' songs

there was wonder in the wolves' bark

there was amazement in the lions' growl

for God came down from heaven 

and sent down His only son

Jesus Christ.  

It was a scandal of grace. 

Then 

there was heartbreak in the trees' sobs,

there was sadness in the birds' cries,

there was mourning in the wolves' howls

there was aching in the whales' voices,

there was grief in the lions' roars,

and darkness shrouded creation,

as the Son of God bowed His head.

And now--

there is rejoicing in the trees' breeze

there is glorifying in the birds' voices

there is celebration in the wolves' howls

there is praise in the whales' songs,

there is declaring in the lions' roars,

for this glorious act of love. 

work of Your hands

I don't think I have a lot of people that actually read this blog, but that's okay. I enjoy it anyway. Poetry is different than story writing for me. The stories I write--they're about other people's experiences that have never happened. But the poetry I share here--they're stories from my own experiences. 

I wrote this poem yesterday afternoon, thinking about the senior class trip I went on Saturday and the chance I had to go paddle boarding and lay down on the board and relax.

Sometimes the sight of the stars

bring me to tears. 

I look at them, and the silver moon,

and think about how God 

painted the sky that bluish black

and hung the stars so delicately

so that they would form shapes. 

He hung them in the heavens,

and to us they're countless

but the Creator of the universe

numbered the stars and 

knows them all by name. 

I had to stop. And look. 

The river was calm,

the breeze was soft,

the sun was blazing,

all was quiet. 

I realized keeping up with everyone

didn't matter 

and I stopped and looked around,

marveling at what my eyes saw before me. 

Its all Your creation,

and for a short time I was alone

to look at the work of Your hands,

in a peaceful lazy river,

where the water was cool

and the sun was hot

and the blue heron flew above

and the birds were singing

in the forest of trees surrounding me. 

There was an adventure,

and all I wanted to do was lay back

and look around simply so 

I could be surrounded by Your creation. 

I felt peace, so far from my worries,

and I forgot about everything 

that I stress over. 

And if I could have,

I would have stayed a while longer,

floating along in a peace that came

from looking at what my eyes beheld

and seeing the work of my Father's hands 

all around me. 

the start

I wanted to write a Facebook post about how I'm counting today as the start of summer and some other stuff, but it didn't work so I decided to write this poem instead. I didn't think it would end up where it went, but I'm happy that it started talking about May and whatnot and then ended where it did. 

Well hello May. 

It seems winter was too long

and spring wasn't long enough 

but I'm counting you as the start 

of summer. 

The start of something new 

and the start of what I pray will 

be an amazing new beginning 

to a new chapter. 

My God, You've brought me so far 

and looking back, I almost 

don't recognize myself. 

Who I was 

isn't who You've made me. 

September feels like so long ago 

and I think back then, 

summer felt so far away

But here it is! 

This is it. 

I remember being almost there,

but now it's practically here. 

Time has flown by 

so much has happened 

and I pray that it wasn't wasted 

and that it won't be wasted. 

Oh Father, You've carried me so far

I had my doubts when the end began,

I feared I wouldn't get here, 

and people fed my doubt,

but now, 16 days and I'll be there. 

Father, I give You all of the credit

for all that You've done

You've changed my heart,

and You've given me more than

I could've asked for.

And You daily remind me of Your love. 

Father, I thank You for how far You've carried me. 

You started something in me,

and You're continuously working 

with Your hands until Your work is done 

And I'm here,

ready to do whatever You will for my life. 

You started something last January,

It was an end...

And a start. 

Oh, my God, so much has happened

between then and now 

And I don't know where I'd be.

If I had never become who You've 

changed me to be. 

When I came back to You

on that day, 

You  took me in Your arms that 

You held out to me,

it was the start 

of You working

in my heart.

Because I was a blank canvas,

needing You to paint Your picture on. 

I was an empty page,

needing You to write Your story on. 

Oh, how I was a blank slab of marble,

desperately needing my Sculptor. 

an empty page, a blank canvas, a blank slate--

Oh, how You've written Your story on my heart, 

Oh, how You've sculpted me to be the shape of 

what You want me to be,

Oh, How You've painted Your picture of

grace on what was once a blank canvas. 

Father, where I ended,

You started. 

the ship and the Ocean

I've been listening to Casting Crowns in my car and today I listened to All You've Ever Wanted and had the idea for this poem. Well, the first few lines of it anyway. In the song, what specifically inspired the first few lines of this song was:

"Lord, I know I let you down, 

But somehow I will make you proud,

I'll turn this sinking ship around,

And make it back to You."

So then I wrote this poem. I'll share the song again just because it's worth listening to and it's one of my favorites. I guess I can relate to the lyrics in a way. 

I'm the captain

of a sinking ship 

and I try to turn around

but my anchor sunk into 

the depths and the sands

keep pulling the anchor 

Down...

Down...

Down...

Meanwhile the winds are 

blowing in my sails

and the stormy seas are

crashing against me

and the storm caused a

mutiny against me 

But I cry--oh, my God,

You're my Savior,

my Redeemer,

You're in control of the storm

You speak to the seas and

You hold the reigns to the winds

and You built this ship. 

It may feel like I'm sinking,

it may feel like my anchor is

pulling me down,

and it certainly feels like

all is against me,

but You're for me

and if my God is for me

then who can ever stand against? 

You turned this ship around

not too long ago 

and You declared:

"She's mine."

And You've been

 holding me

carrying me

so take this wheel from me. 

be the captain of my ship. 

Protect me from the mutiny,

Shield me from the winds ,

Gather me from the waves ,

Oh, my God, 

Raise this anchor 

and take me farther than I'd ever dreamed

I fear not what lies ahead

and regret what lies behind 

but You are with me

You are my peace and comfort

and I know You're never far,

always near 

and You hold me

so I'm not afraid. 

The storm I'm in won't last 

It'll be over soon. 

the winds can't blow me away 

from the God who saved my soul.

The sea can't drown me down

far from my Savior who loves me. 

This anchor can't hold me back

from doing what my God has called me to do. 

You spoke the seas into creation. 

You tethered the winds into their corners. 

You formed the storms into the skies. 

You sent this ship into the sea. 

You won't let it sink. 

Take this from me, Father. 

I know You won't let me sink. 

Take this from me, Father. 

I know You're in control. 

Take this from me, Father. 

I know You're holding me. 

You love me, Father,

More than I know,

You love me, 

You created me,

You saved me,

You're my Father 

and You have a plan for me,

and whatever it may be,

I know You'll carry me through

these stormy skies until 

I've fulfilled Your plan for me. 

So I will wait 

until I see what You have in store for me. 

And I know You'll carry me through. 

I believe You when You say,

"I've started this work in You, 

And I will see it through until completion."

Because when I'm ready to quit,

You're there to remind me why I can't. 

My heart is aching 

My ship's hull is breaking 

But I'm not sinking 

Because You're the ocean holding me up. 

my child, here I am

This weekend my brother and I flew to Ohio for my grandma's memorial service. Saturday, on the flight back, I closed my eyes and I was listening to music while trying to get a nap. I listened to Casting Crowns new CD Thrive, and their song, "Just Be Held," started playing, and I had the idea for the first few lines for this poem. I didn't write them down because I wanted to get some sleep, or try to at least, but I remembered them, and on the second flight I wrote this poem.  Here's the song if you want to listen while you read. :) 

Here I am 

there you were 

now you've come 

you've finally come.  

I pursued you,

even when you weren't 

looking for me,

I was watching over you. 

even when you weren't 

talking to me,

I was listening to you. 

I've known, I've always known,

your fears, your sorrows,

your worries, your faults,

your shame, your aching heart--

I know all of it. 

My Son bore all of it. 

And I love you and 

your imperfections anyway. 

You're beautiful,

because I am making you beautiful 

and I'm not just saying that. 

you're my child,

I am your Father. 

I know you're sad,

but not just sad--

you're heartbroken. 

And I know this world is hard on you, 

it was even worse to my Son. 

After all, he felt all of your 

sadness and brokenness. 

He felt what most saddens you. 

So when you're on your knees,

and what this world does to you

is streaming down your pretty face,

I'm there with you. 

I'm holding you, even if 

you can't feel my arms around you,

I have you in my embrace. 

Don't you worry child, 

I'm holding you. 

Give me your hand and 

I'll lead you through all of

life's trials and tribulations. 

Better yet, I won't just lead you. 

I'll carry you. 

You're never alone 

Nor will I ever leave your side. 

Even though you once left me,

I was always there for you,

And I will always be with you. 

Beauty and the beast

I'm a little surprised that I'm actually posting again in the middle of the week. It was starting to seem like two poems every Monday was becoming a regular thing. This one was written on my phone last night inspired by a quote by GK Chesterton: "There is the great lesson of 'Beauty and the Beast,' that a thing must be loved before it is lovable." 

Maybe it was a story of

Beauty and the Beast 

Except I was the beast 

And You were Beauty. 

But it's not a story

Where the Princess

Meets the beast and

They fall in love and 

she kisses him just as 

the last rose petal Falls and

he becomes human again. 

It's a story where 

I was no princess 

and the only beast was me. 

You're the one that showed 

Your grace and mercy. 

You're the one that 

First loved the beast. 

My sins had separated me

From You 

And before You,

 I was despicable. 

My wrongdoings had made

A beast out of me. 

But then You came along,

And You saved me from myself. 

You, Lord, You came down. 

Love came down from heaven 

To earth 

And on the cross Love bled for me

Beautiful grace and mercy died. 

You loved a world that 

Had fallen apart and 

You loved a beast that was broken 

By the things she had chased 

That wouldn't fulfill her soul. 

You came for me,

You took me in Your arms 

When I cried out to You 

Even though it had been 

A long time coming. 

Now You're making me beautiful,

You showed me Your beautiful

Picture of Grace and mercy 

And now You're giving me 

What I need to show it to others. 

So this is a story of

Beauty and the beast--

how Your beauty makes the beasts

Beautiful so they can tell anyone

And everyone so more can have

Your beautiful love. 

Savior

This is the second poem I wrote last night. 

Your arms are open wide,

showing Your nail pierced hands.

And I come,

falling into Your arms 

just to be held,

comforted by 

Your grace 

and Your love 

that You've lavished upon me. 

Jesus Christ,

You wore my crown of thorns 

You bore my cross

and they nailed You to it.

You suffered willingly,

for me, the sinner that

 didn't deserve it. 

You bore my weight 

You bore my guilt

the only perfect man in all of history,

the Son of God,

You felt all of my shame,

all of my sorrows,

all of my sins, all of my guilt

so that I can run to You,

Jesus my Savior,

unashamed, with no guilt,

so that You can now hold me 

in Your loving arms

and so that You can take my hand 

and lead me with 

Your nail pierced hands. 

And hallelujah! You rose 

three days after death,

You rose again! 

Death has no victory 

death has no sting

for You defeated the grave 

and rose victorious! 

the Sculptor

I tried to write some poetry all weekend, specifically poetry themed around Good Friday and Easter. While I did write some poems, I didn't like the poems enough to share them. Again, late last night, I succeeded in writing two poems on my phone. This is the first one. 

You're the Artist

that painted the only

perfect picture in all

of history, a painting

of pure grace. 

You're the Maestro 

that gives the songbird 

her cue and tells the whales

in the deep ocean blue

when to join the symphony 

of the waves sloshing

in the oceans that fit

in Your hand. 

You breathe into the trees

so that they might have 

the winds to rustle them up

or to bring their leaves down. 

You, my God, are the Creator

of all

You placed the stars in the sky

so that they might twinkle

and dance around the sun 

and the moon and the earth. 

You created it all, 

and yet You're also 

The Sculptor. 

You take me in all of my

imperfections and You 

chisel away at all of the things

that You don't want to be there. 

my pride, my bad temper,

my failures, my weaknesses,

You chisel them all away...

until all that's left is only what You

want to be seen--

Your light shining through the cracks

of my brokenness,

Christ on display for all to see. 

You are my Savior, my Creator,

my Father 

and You lavished Your love upon me,

of all people,

so that You might continue to sculpt 

me to be more like Your Son. 

meet your Maker

And the second one. You might be able to tell I wrote this one kind of late last night.  I read through this one and realized it might be a little weird, but that's probably just me because it's written a little differently. I remembered Psalm 139 when I wrote this.

Meet your Maker.

He created you...

No, better yet,

With His own hands He

Formed you, He designed you. 

He put those eyes there,

With that nose In between,

And in those eyes he put 

Just a drop of color

Are your eyes green...

Like the sea foam?

Or blue like the tide? 

Maybe they're brown

Like a teddy bear

Or hazel like a drop of golden sun

On a grizzly bear's fur? 

Maybe they're none of these colors. 

And then He counted every hair 

On your head and He colored

Every strand so maybe He chose

For you brown hair like your favorite

Flavor of chocolate or maybe 

Blonde hair like a yellow sundress

Or maybe your hair is black as night

Or red as fire or maybe it's blonde,

Like a strawberry. It could even be

highlighted with all of these colors or none of them.

But I want you to meet your Maker. 

He designed you, yes He did,

And He loves you very much,

He loves you so much that 

He sent His Son Jesus Christ

To DIE for you. 

Why? 

Because your Maker hates sin

And sin breaks His heart and your

Maker wanted to forgive you, 

So He could pour out

His love, His grace, His mercy,

On you of all people,

With your eyes that He colored

And your hair that He counted 

And your story that He wrote--

(Oh did I not mention that?)

Because He loves you more-- 

(He wrote your story in His book)

Than you can ever imagine-- 

(He knew you long before anyone else ever did)

And He will never leave you,

Nor will He forsake you. 

this is your Maker,

God the Father who created you,

He personally designed you,

He personally wrote your story,

And He personally sent His Son 

To suffer for you because

He loves you.

And how precious it is that He 

Is our Maker and the Creator of the universe

And yet He knows all of our needs 

And holds us in His thoughts and

In His arms, for we are His. 

He is your Maker. 

not by sight

This is the first of two poems I plan on posting tonight. I had the ideas for this and another poem thanks to two of the songs that were sung last night in church. By the time I was able to get around to writing this poem and the one I'll post later tonight, it was pretty late so I'm grateful that I even remembered what the ideas were. 

If I walked by sight,

I would've run into the walls

I put up around me a long time ago. 

I would've collapsed under 

The weight of these burdens and

I would've fallen over the obstacles 

Arising over the horizon like the 

Moon at midnight in the darkness,

Barely shining, unable to illuminate 

My trials, my tribulations,

Never would I have made it through. 

But thank God I walk by faith--

This faith that says I will not fear,

For my Father is with me and

He carries me through the storm. 

Not only that but He forms the storm

Into existence with His own hands. 

The hard times and the good times

Are no difference to Him for 

He is in control of everything. 

Thank my Father in heaven that

I walk by faith--the faith that says 

This mountain will move, not

Because I've come to push it

With my bare hands or that I

Dare believe I have the strength 

To get over it, but that I rely on 

The Rock of my salvation,

He who created the mountain. 

And if the mountain is to move,

It will move because it's Maker says,

"move out of my child's way."

My God, if You are to bring me to

This mountain for me to get over it,

I will not get over it because I have

The strength to climb it, 

But because i am weak,

And You are strong. 

pieces

(image not mine, here's the link to where I found it: pinterest )

A while ago I came across this image on Pinterest, and I absolutely love this picture. This guy is giving his broken heart to God. That's the way I see it. He's giving his broken heart to God, and God takes it because that's all He's ever wanted, and I really relate to that. God pursued me, and when I finally broke down before Him, He completely embraced me. So I wrote this tonight, thinking of the picture above.

I raised my empty hands

to You

and we both knew why

they were empty--

I handed my heart

to You

but I was cutting myself

on its jagged edges

and we both knew what

had broken it.

I tried taping it back

but it was too heavy with burdens

for the tape to hold

and I kept in there as it was,

not wanting to hand You the pieces

but then I grew too weighed down

by the burdens I couldn't carry alone.

So I picked up the pieces 

of that broken heart of mine

and I held them up

to You

and I said, looking down at

what was left of my heart,

"There's nothing else left

and I thought I was OK

but I'm not

never have been

never will be

unless I have You.

This brokenness isn't much

but it's all I've been left with

and You're all I need

I need You Father

Please I need You."

And You came and embraced 

my emptiness

and filled those broken places

and I'm not empty anymore

You said to me,

"It's okay, though you may

not see it now.

I'm here

always have been

always will be

you'll always have me

give me your brokenness, I'll fix it.

And I've given you all you need

shh, child, I hear you

just let me hold you, 

I'll carry you through this."

You're holding me

You're carrying me

and You keep reminding me

that You're always there

holding and carrying me.

This heart of mine

may be broken

but now Your glorious light

is shining through the cracks. 

lights & love

I started this poem after reading John 13:34-35, but as I was writing it I thought of the passage in Philippians that talks about being lights in the world. I want to share the verses before the poem.

John 13:34-35 (ESV)
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

Philippians 2:14-:15 (ESV)
Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world

If the world is watching,

let us be lights shining

in the darkness, blinding,

let us blind the darkness

with nothing but love

for we know what love is 

because Jesus Christ

the Son of God first

loved us and

called us to love.

If the world is watching,

let us love

let us love like Christ

let us show His love

to this world, it's watching

because we're not of it

The world can see Christ in us

when we love one another

and in a world of darkness,

of hate and of all things wrong,

we're needed to love and to be lights

so let us love

so let us be the lights fighting

back the darkness

we will love and tell the world

of the love we're shown by

Christ and the darkness

will not overcome it

for our great God

is always with us,

always before us,

and always beside us.

With Christ with us

we have nothing to fear

so we'll love and show

the love we were shown

to a world without it

and we'll be the lights

blinding the darkness

because we shine bright

when we love

and know that we are loved

by He who laid down His life

so that we might know how

greatly loved we are

so that we might show the world how

greatly loved it is. 

my Father

"Doesn't it take your breath away for a moment to hear God say, 'I love you'? To which we, in our sinfulness, must certainly respond, 'why?' And then to hear him answer, 'Because you're my child.' To which we ask the obvious question, 'Why would I, a hopeless sinner, now be called your cherished child?' Only to hear him say, 'Because I wanted you, and I came to get you so that you might know me as Father.'"
--David Platt

I read this paragraph in Follow Me by David Platt and it really caught me off guard, because I've wondered why....why God still pursued me after I had run the opposite direction, and that's why. And the how is because he is a merciful, grace-giving God. So then I wrote this poem last night on my phone when I should've been getting that precious sleep (daylight savings anyone?).

We are children

and when we fall

our Father in heaven is

right there to help us back up.

But sometimes we need to fall

so that when the Father pulls us up

by the hand, we will heave learned

that we cannot rely on our

wandering feet.

The Father we have in heaven

created the universe and breathed

life into our very souls and showed

us what love is by sending his own

Son Jesus Christ to die for us

 so that we may 

be called sons of God.

And as a Father, he s going to

hold us when we need a hug

carry us when we can't lift our feet

lead us when we know not the right way

lift us up and wipe the dirt off

of our jeans when we fall too hard

and he's going to love us when

we can't love ourselves and

because he loves us more than we

can ever fathom, he will never 

leave us nor forsake us and when

we leave him and wander astray,

he will come running after us.

Unlike some fathers he will chase

after us until we turn around and

when we turn around we'll fall

into his arms, broken and Father God will

hold us until we're okay again

and he will carry us through the pain

and he'll make us better at the

broken places

and he will forget that we ever left

even when we can't begin

to understand why the Father still loves us

and cares for us so much,

He will still say,

"It's because you are my child

and I love you." 

divine Providence

Back story:
Last year I went to my first summer camp, and I left home with only two or three friends, but when it was over, I had even more friends than I ever thought I would have. God brought me to these wonderful girls and I honestly don't know where I'd be without them. The past few months have been easier with people to rely on and it was God's Providence that inspired this poem.
(written this past Sunday, 3/2/14)

the world around us

believes in fate

and destiny controlled by

the universe that

randomly decided to 

put them in just the right place,

at just the right time.

But as for me,

  I believe in my God the God,

the God who holds that universe

in. His. hands.

the same God that breathed

life into all creation and

taught the stars how to shine

and whispered to the winds

to run free and wild and

commanded the waves to dance

and orchestrates the choir

of birds that sing praises to their

Provider and have faith that when

they jump, they'll fly because

their Creator gave them wings

to spread. and flap. and fly.

This same God placed the sun

in its place and hung the 

earth just right and secured the

moon over there and then went

on to wrap rings around Saturn

but remembered to give us

air to breathe and voices to sing,

and He is the one who taught

the whales to sing their songs

in the oceans deep

and told the bears that until spring,

they sleep.

And I should not be worthy

of the love of this awesome God

reigning in heaven above

but He is wise, He is powerful,

He is love.

And my heart is abandoned as I 

stand in awe with arms high

to You, my God I surrender my soul,

in awe I praise the Creator God

of the

           universe

who gate it all

though my sins were great,

my shoulders weighed with

            countless burdens

my God sent His Son

    and Jesus Christ

 paid the price

and ransomed me for God

I am loved

                          by the Creator God

I am a daughter

                of the King

I am an alien

                                       belonging to some place greater

And I deserve none of it

but praise God

who breathes life into this world

that He is gracious,

merciful

thank You Father for being

a God of love. 

prologue

If you've ever read posts on my other blog, The Journey's Beginning, then you probably know I rarely post except for those few posts every...three months? Well, somewhere around in there. I checked. My last post was January first, and the post before that was September fifteenth. Looking back on it, the posts used to be more frequent, but now I never feel like posting. I almost posted last week, but I decided it would be best not to. I don't really like that blog, either. The url, the name. I don't really think that's me anymore. Lose me at the sea? The journey's beginning? Yeah, not me.

I mentioned never posting on my other blog. I might never post here. It's a new project, and the last blog project I started, I stopped because I realized it was kind of pointless. Anyway, with this, I'm going to use it as a poetry and prose blog. But it's not going to be random bits of poetry and prose, because if it were just random things that I decided to write a giant long blog post about (much like this one), it would be just like my other blogs that I've started.
But let me explain something, and tell you a story.

Last May, on my birthday, I went shopping with my friend and I bought a really nice little leather bound journal at Barnes and Noble to start writing poetry in. I had never been that much into poetry and struggled to write it, but once I started writing it whenever I had an idea, I couldn't stop. I'm a writer, and poetry is a form of writing that allows me creative freedom. I figured I would just write poetry pertaining to my stories, and for a while I did, but somewhere along the lines of words that don't rhyme but have some sort of shape and meaning in their freedom, I started writing about what inspired me in my life. And now, with bits of random poetry in between, I'm inspired more and more by God my Creator. I've grown more in my relationship with Him. He has constantly pulled me closer and closer to Him, and the poetry in my journal reflects that...but I should add in places between the poetry praising God, there's poetry where I've slipped up and written other things. Because sometimes, I have an idea for a poem, and it turns into a short story with a shape to it. And sometimes, I'm inspired by nature and the seasons and the weather and those winds that whisper praise to their Creator. 

I'm a writer, and writing those super long novels is more my thing, but I have this poetry that I'd like to share. Until my books are ready to share, I want to share that poetry. The difference between a book with chapters and words pouring down like heavy rain and poetry woven into place to express certain thoughts and ideas is that a book isn't real. The characters are made to feel real, and for my trilogy I hope when people read it they'll think they could very well be an untold legend, but poetry is heartfelt. It comes from the heart. It starts on a simple idea, a random thought that appears from something the poet has seen or felt or heard, and when the pen scratches on the page the heart spills ink. Right now, the words that are being spilled are about God, and I want to share them. I'll start typing out the poems tomorrow night or whenever I have time, but for now I just wanted to the idea for this blog across. I'll post old poems from months ago, and the new poems, so long as they're about God.