Behold

I write to remember. This beholding God heart posture is my story to tell of God’s faithfulness, grace, mercy, and hope in my life—His story is my story to behold.

Job’s cosmic battle is above our human understanding, yet our human condition fell on the premise that surely God withholds our ultimate good from us. Surely, the more we know, the more we ascertain our position as god on our heart’s throne.

I don’t remember when I learned to swim. I only remember when I was saved.

Because in my beginning was someone hovering above the face of the deep. I could hear him — he called me by name — though I could not see him.

(Published in The Habit Portfolio)

It’s those fleeting moments that can turn into days, weeks, months, or even years where we shake our fist at God, our First Love and our True Shepherd. But, we finally render our heart and hurt to the One who truly binds our heart to Thee.

Someday, I thought, we’ll be free.

Glimpses of serene, simpler days have the tendency to imprint you deeply with a longing you chase your entire life—a longing for Home, a secret place to rest that is hidden from the storm.

Poem

A bouquet of blooms on a day of good health . . .

The truth is that I’m realizing I am like Pharaoh—given access to the Lord’s marvelous works in my life and those around me yet failing to be moved by His wonders.

Poem

I retrace the familiar while I lie on the table in the doctor’s office each week.

Poem

Waltz with me
in the rain like cries
resting on your lashes

I am wandering, I confess, and I don’t yet know how to articulate it to others. As a writer, I only want to present my polished thoughts in written form.

It was an internal collision in midair on an airplane flight: a life-long dream of going to Europe and a life-long U-turn.