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“David began his arithmetic, in the 14th verse (of Psalm 71) with addition: “I will yet praise Thee more and more”; but he is fairly beaten in this first rule of sacred mathematics. His calculation fails him; the mere enumeration of the Lord’s mercies overwhelms his mind; he owns his inadequacy. Reckon either by time,…
W CROSS R D S Lamb. Perfect. Hung. Alone. Naked. For me. Abandoned. Blamed. Spit on. Mocked. Forsaken. For me. Loving. Spotless. Alone. For love. Blood poured out. For me. Broken. Crying. Praying. Dying. A garden beginning, A garden His ending. On a hill he hung for…
I’ve been thinking about bridges a lot lately how they’re built how they’re sustained what they connect what they cross what they cover and I am sure of only this: building the bridge that connects a friendship must be built one strong, sure bolt at a time…….. Romans 12 “14 Bless those who persecute you, bless…
redtwig dogwood, my yard, renton wa outside in this open sky gratitude falls and I hear: more bird sounds, echoing/answering amidst the branches, waking up to more light. windchimes slight in the breeze, their delicate sound a witness to the wind. I see: a dull palette of varying grays- the distant view so very much…
Mt. Rainier, WA state, Paradise side I blame her for this. I blame her for these can’t-miss tears. These every-time-I-read-her-posts tears, that dry on my skin and keep me choked up, that blow my world apart and make me want to say, ‘This does not fit.’ This. This world, with its horrors right where I live and merciless children killing their grandparents in my own…
Stitching together my Sabbaths in chunks of time, because that is all I have in the midst of our current remodeling project, and reading God in the Yard by LL Barkat (TSPoetry Press), I was moved to write this as I sat down outside the other day. Father, thank you that in the midst of…
I grew up in Southern California, the land of orange orchards and strawberry fields. I remember well the acres on the corner lot near our elementary school—the Aihara’s place—with row after row of strawberries. I remember two things about my elementary school friend Lynne Aihara—her remarkably beautiful handwriting and sifting rice. When I was invited…
It’s that time again–first Monday of the month–unedited, unscripted Sister Time for Soli Deo Gloria, whose tagline is “Inspiring women just to keep it real.” Here’s my 6 minutes’ worth of ‘real’, talking about what’s sitting in the pile of mail on my kitchen counter….precious words and precious music. Here’s the link in case…
I fell flat–face first Down on the ground Hard. Stopped short, mid-stride Chatting as I rolled Around the corner. (Why I’ll show these young people a thing or two.) All I wanted to do was Join in the fun— Ah, Family Skate Night. Fellowship with the saints, Be salt and light, Share the joy. I…
I was thinking, Father, yesterday in worship, with my hands upraised in prayer and thanks, how like a container I’ve been this week. Empty, needing to be filled, a hollowed out space hollering for help. I’ve been stuck, stagnant, stewing by myself drowning in unmoving water. And you showed me, Lord, how like a…