God curled up
smaller than my fist
embryo
divine.
Waiting.
Timeless one
now ticking,
each beat
counting down
the moments
cause every life
has limits.

Even His.

God limited
by choice,
enthroned
in the womb
of the unwed,
waiting.
Purpose
in each point,
Patiently
Unfolding.
Protected
by angels eager,
and a father
reluctant.

 

 

Given.
That’s what You did.
You have given
Yourself.

Baby God
crowning,
ripping,
stretching,
coming.
Pain is the portal
for Your coming.
Sacrifice.
Giving.
And not giving up.

Arriving.

God-man
breathes,
cries,
finds
comfort,
in a mother.

God-man
sees,
learns,
finds
shelter,
in a father.

He is
like us.

God
needing.
God
receiving.
God
held.

Jesus.
That is what we call the God-man.
Incarnate.
That’s what we say he is.
Emmanuel.
This is why we sing at Christmas.

God

with

us.

Breath of God
Coming down
Filling up
My lungs
Till
I can breathe
Again.

You hold me together.
You hold me close.

Weak and rag-taggled,
A floppy collection
Of bones and thoughts
So needy
Yet straining to be
So strong.

Breathe of Heaven,
Relieve the fear
Of all the unknowns,
Of all the pain.

It’s hard to succumb
To mystery
Cause we are ever curious.
Ever thirsting
For omnipotence.
It’s hard to lean into God
When we are continually searching
For better options that
Distract us
From true,
Lasting comfort.

 

We need you.
We depend on You
In the unknown,
And we find relief
In faith,
In waiting,
In letting go,
In embracing
A mysterious,
But always loving
God.

I repent of my reckless need
To know.
I turn from my anxious circles
That fail me.
I look up.

“My dear child.
I am the same,
Yesterday, today and forever.
I fill you with the assurance
Of my nearness.
Here, now.
It’s all going to be ok
Cause I’m holding you.
Let me.

 
Let me carry you.
And experience
Joy,
Experience peace,
Experience hope,
Experience Me
In you,
Carrying you,
Loving you
Right on through.
I am right here.
Love, Papa.”

I like the bare simplicity
of winter.
Yes, we doll it up,
in ribbons
and garlands
and lambaste it
with lights,
but ever notice how,
after the celebrations are over,
all that
“stuff”
it just looks
gaudy, cluttered
and tired?

It’s so easy to get tired.

 

I think it’s this search for perfect
that tires us out,
that clutters our homes
and minds
and schedules.

Then there is nature.
Pure,
cold,
Canadian
nature.

 

The spruce are padded
with a thick layer
of fresh snow
and my view
looks like
a Christmas card
minus the red and green trim.

That flash
of unexpected sky-blue
against the white
means the chubby blue-jay
is foraging again.
My snow-capped birdfeeders
are spinning manically
because of a consistent onslaught
of peppery sparrows,
who can never get enough.

The jack rabbit
is all white now,
and zips about,
his big feet
so happy
in the big snow.

I know it’s helpful,
this season of lights
and parties,
cause it brightens
the darkest month
in our calendar
cause we can’t hibernate,
or tuck away early,
or not despise the dark
like nature can.

But there is something about
this simple
pre-Christmas time,
after the first few snowfalls,
which make you feel
cozy and rosy cheeked,
and thankful for wool
and hot drinks and
all the white,
which reflects
the moonlight
bright
on clear nights.
And the children,
reveling
in a snow globe world.
I like this simple winter.
Before we try to improve it
with our perfection driven tendencies,
our deep devotion to Pinterest
and keeping up with the Jones’.

Welcome, simple Winter.
I accept you
and love you
as you are,
pure,
cold,
charming,
simple,
bare,
full,
imperfect,
beautiful.

 

 

Jesus is eternal life.
I get to know Jesus.
I get to know eternal life.
I get to live life with Jesus.
The eternal kind of life.
Starting now.
Not after death.

Dear Jesus,
Alleluia.
I lean into this truth.
When life doesn’t feel eternal,
Joyful, heavenly.
Or when life does feel eternal,
Eternally frustrating
Or unfair,
Or hard.
Just plain hard.
Jesus.

Jesus is our eternal life.
So we lean into this.
Into Him.
Where does eternal life take us?
Heaven.
What does having Jesus here now,
Jesus our eternal life, mean?
Heaven come down.

This isn’t some epically long wait
In the waiting room of real, flesh and blood life,
Waiting for the door to open
So eternity can begin.
We can begin now.
Heaven touches earth every day.
We can see it if we choose to.
How God chose to
Send Heaven down,
So this life on earth
Would be less hellish,
And more heavenly
Every day.
Heaven came down.
Eternal life came down.
Jesus came down.

Eternal life, Jesus, is active today.
Can you see it?
Can you see Him?
He’s still wiping tears away.
He’s still forgiving the sinners.
He’s still binding the broken hearted.
He’s still healing the sick.
He’s still wrapping tender arms
Round his prodigal sons and daughters,
And getting excited about finding
The lost ones
And bringing them home
rejoicing.
This is the kingdom of Heaven.
It’s a covert mission,
Cause the darkness is great,
But Heaven
Is breaking through
And it will have the final say.
Jesus will have the final say.

I choose to see Heaven today,
See Jesus,
See the eternal,
Cause eternal life
Is a person,
An active person,
Reviving,
Restoring,
Giving hope,
Breathing peace,
Heaven on earth.
The beautiful,
Eternal
Now,
Here now,
Leaning into
Our dear Jesus.

Now we live in fellowship
with the true God
because we live in fellowship
with His Son,
Jesus Christ.
He is the only true God,
and He is eternal life.
I John 5: 21

Peace is

a blue sky,

bare branches,

sunrise.

 

A cacophony of birds

bursting out

in song.

 

A new day.

 

A new day

to admit

it all

does not

depend

on me.

 

A new day

to accept

my limitations

and be

thankful.

 

Cause I don’t want

to be in control.

My brain,

my body,

my heart,

can’t handle it.

I am not God.

So I speak

freedom

to my heart.

 

Freedom from

being chained to

ideals,

expectations,

to-dos.

 

Freedom from

pleasing

everyone.

I can’t.

I stop.

 

What can I do?

What should I do?

 

Follow Jesus.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Slow enough to ask,

“What’s next, Holy Spirit?”

Loosen the reins enough

to trust

that

following Jesus is enough.

Following Jesus

fills the necessary

expectations.

Following Jesus is

the ideal.

It is the to-do list.

Wake up

and ask,

“What’s next Papa?”

Follow Jesus.

 

He’s enough.

It’s enough.

Nothing else I do is enough.

More begets more.

And I deplete

quickly.

Jesus is enough.

 

 

 

 

Heart,

you are free

when you

follow Jesus.

Don’t feel free?

Follow Jesus.

 

What does it look like?

Unbroken communion.

Never

releasing

His hand.

Never stop

seeking His eyes,

His heart,

asking to hear

His words of life.

 

 

 

I embrace You,

Jesus.

I follow You,

Freedom.

I breathe You in

Peace.

And I follow Jesus.

 

I think I’m

finding a rhythm

in this crazy.

A consistent

flow

that is

untangling

those time consuming

knots.

The rhythm must

include

rest.

Cause without it

I burn

out.

I value my sanity,

my clarity,

my heart,

body,

and soul

enough

to give it

space

to be

separated.

 

I’m the best

version of me

when my soul

has space

to breathe.

When I schedule

nothing,

when I

put up a boundary,

When I limit

me.

 

I am my most true self

when

I’m not seeking

everyone’s approval,

or fixing everyone’s problems,

or meeting

everyone’s needs,

not running myself

ragged.

 

Here I am.

Truly,

Full

of life,

Ok with

keeping some of that life

for me

and those I treasure

most.

Here I am,

fully rested,

writing,

enjoying

all the gifts

given

cause I slowed

enough

to actually

see them.

 

Here I am,

approved by God,

affirmed by Love,

feeding freely

on faithfulness.

Ok with my

limitations.

Happy to accept

what I can

and leave behind

what I can’t.

 

Just that.

Accepting

I can’t

Do it all,

Be it all,

All the time.

 

That’s not the aim.

Here is the aim.

 

Proximity.

 

Here is my goal.

 

Intimacy.

 

Following Holy Spirit.

Staying close.

 

Proximity requires

Intimacy,

Unbroken companionship.

And intimacy requires

Space, time, rest,

Awareness,

Being present

To the Presence.

I love it.

It’s simple.

Just staying close.

 

That is my rhythm.

 

 

Leaves fall

patiently.

This is how it comes

slowly.

If you’re present enough.

If not

all you see

is a sudden

flash

of yellow

and you absently

delight

in the contrast

against the blue

and then

it is barren.

Over.

Done.

 

Life is like that.

If we aren’t slow,

Patient,

Present,

It crashes passed us

And all we have

Is a faint

Feeling that

We might have

missed something.

What if I lived

Unafraid

Of time?

What if I lived

Without these words,

“not enough”

in my head?

 

What if I stopped

Assuming

It all must be done

Today

And running ahead,

Pushing through,

Gettin’ er done

Constantly?

 

What if I made space

For nothing?

For digging up my carrots.

Not scheduled.

It just happens.

What if I made space

For nothing?

For staring at the leaves

Falling,

Patiently,

Seeing the season,

Truly seeing it.

What if I just

Took a nap?

 

What if I trusted

That what didn’t get done

Would get done

And that rest

Is worth my time?

That rest is time

Well spent.

 

What if I climbed

Out of the hamster wheel

And chewed up my

To-do list?

 

What if I had the faith

To believe

It all doesn’t depend on me

And I

Am not

God?

 

 

Everything was wet this morning.

Drenched

in those

tears

the season

releases

as warm

and cold

meet

again

after a long

absence.

A kind of gloomy anticipation

hangs in the air.

Water droplets

heavy,

enshrouding

everything

in mystery.

 

And there’s this waiting.

Because the Sun is rising.

Waiting is good.

I can say it now.

I’ve known it.

More intimately

than I would have liked.

I wrestled it.

I wept through it.

And eventually

I praised God

in it,

for it.

 

Waiting is good.

It increases

anticipation.

It heightens

enjoyment

when the thing waited for

comes.

Waiting is difficult.

Cause there are a lot of “what ifs.”

You can’t see very far.

There is much

about waiting

that is

mystery

and choosing to

embrace it.

 

Waiting is healing.

Like convalescing,

like resting

that one more day

after a sickness

to ensure full restoration.

 

Waiting restores.

If we ran headlong into everything

it would be painful.

Moving slow

is life-giving.

Slowly rise, Sun.

Take your time

revealing

what’s beyond.

 

All the mystery,

I need to embrace it

cause if I don’t

I’ll always be wanting

what I don’t have.

What I can’t see.

Yet.

I need to give mystery

allowance.

 

Waiting reminds me

that I’m not God.

 

Waiting reminds me

that I am a child of God.

 

I’m safe

in the waiting.

It may feel humbling

at times,

but it’s a good place.

Waiting is healing.

Waiting is restoring.

Waiting is increasing

future enjoyment.

Waiting is allowing

for the unknown.

 

So I wait for the Sun.

 

What’s following me?

 

 

I’ve hear them say

You are always either

Pre-storm, storm or post-storm.

This cycle

Of circumstances

We mostly can’t control

As life

Just happens

Around us.

Surely or

Only goodness,

Mercy and unfailing love

Shall follow me

All the days of my life.

 

What’s following me?

 

My idea of goodness

Usually is synonymous with

Perfection.

The perfect life.

The ideal.

The comfortable.

Everything going my way.

Abundance.

Dreams do come true.

Lord, have mercy,

We pray.

A life followed by

Mercy…

My idea of mercy

Is usually synonymous with

Getting what I pray for.

I expect to bend

God’s will

To mine.

Lord have mercy on…

Change this relationship,

Move in this way,

Fit in this box

That I’ve crafted

Just for you, God.

 

Unfailing love.

Love should feel like love.

That’s what the world emphasizes.

Warm, fuzzy,

Padding the world around

So no one feels pain,

Or is lonely

Or forsaken.

Let’s alter the verse.

I want

ONLY a

Comfortable,

Idealized,

perfect

Dream-life

Which I have crafted

In my head,

In which everything

I pray for and hope for

Comes to be,

In exactly the way

I expect,

And I feel

loved

from morning to night,

not only by God,

but by all those I interact with

all the time.

Context.

It’s kind of a scratchy word.

Might bother some.

Sometimes it bothers me.

But look back.

 

The first ½ of Psalm 23

Is comforting,

No doubt.

That’s why it’s probably

The most popular Scripture

Of all time.

It’s drenched in

Goodness, mercy, love.

 

An unfailing Shepherd

Following his beloved Sheep,

Faithful,

Insisting on our rest,

Revealing beauty,

Offering restoration.

Though I walk through the valley,

The deep, sunless valley

Of the shadow of death…

Wait a second…

A table before my enemies?

Pardon?

Darkness.

Enemies.

Death.

Pain.

Less than ideal circumstances?

 

What happened to goodness?

Mercy? Unfailing love?

Where did my Good Shepherd go?

This is no ideal life.

This is real life.

Pre-storm, storm, post-storm.

Valleys are inevitable.

Enemies are inescapable.

Easy

Isn’t God’s definition

Of a good life.

Goodness, mercy and unfailing love

Are not dependent on

A perfect chain of events,

The type that release enough dopamine

Into my system

To ensure my happy bubble

Is never popped.

 

God’s goodness,

Mercy

And unfailing love

Followed David from the peaceful pasture

into that dark valley,

Right in among his enemies.

 

His Presence

Is not dependent

On circumstances

Or feelings.

 

Goodness, mercy and love

Aren’t feelings

Or desirable events.

 

Goodness is a person.

Mercy is a person.

Unfailing love is a person.

The person is

Jesus.

 

Not just a flesh-and-blood person,

A divine person.

A Good, eternal, ever-present Shepherd,

Following us.

The path might not look good,

The way might not appear merciful,

And I might not feel

Unfailing love.

 

But Goodness, but Jesus

Doesn’t change.

But Mercy, but Jesus

Remains fixed.

But unfailing love

But Jesus,

Is right there

Whether I feel it or not.

 

So I repent

For seeking comfort,

Peace, love

From the world,

From my circumstances.

I repent for

Thinking like the world,

Defining my God

With my finite mind.

My life is but a mist in the morning

And then it will be gone.

Maybe my life will be

A very painful one.

Maybe my life might feel more like

Storm, storm, and more storm,

But Papa,

Help me remember

To look back.

 

Who is following me?

Redeeming the hard,

Giving strength

For the journey,

Never failing

Through meadow or valley?

 

Goodness,

Mercy

And unfailing love.

Jesus.

What is following me?

I turn my eyes from the “what”.

Who is following me?

You will fly.

You were born

With wings.

 

Every obstacle

you see

in front

of you

is an opportunity

to

problem-solve,

work hard,

and take a risk.

 

The end result is

greater intimacy,

greater trust,

and more ground

taken.

 

 

Obstacles build intimacy

if you let them.

Encountering obstacles,

facing them

head on,

is an invitation

to trust.

I see an obstacle

I see a chance

to trust,

lean,

believe,

risk,

step,

follow,

be led,

stretch

my faith,

get more faith,

grow.

Fear doesn’t mean stop.

Fear means turn.

Turn my heart,

my face,

my direction,

my eyes

to my Leader.

Ask,

“What are You doing?

What are You wanting to do?

What do I do?”

Do not listen to the enemy

who says,

“You are not safe.

You are stuck.

Turn around.

Give up.

Stop.”

 

Listen to Papa,

Who says,

“I delight in you.

Trust me.

Embrace change.

Encounter mystery

Without anxiety.

Be fearless.

Let Me lead you

in and through it.

Move WITH me.

Let’s fly.

Better yet,

Let’s SOAR.