unlovable

from 2014. i’m better now. almost.


so, okay. i have this terrible condition that rears its ugly head every so often. i start to feel bad. mentally, internally. then it sort of morphs into something worse. a terrifying feeling of not being loved. then i set about to let everyone in my tiny family know about it. i moan and shout from the next room, “No one loves me!” then my family rushes in and kisses me and reassures me. “We love you!” it’s a fun, silly game, but one that i need sometimes because while i make a joke, i still need that comfort and love to bolster my fragile mentality.

well last night, i finally realized, what i really feel is, “I’m unlovable.” i begin to feel as if no one in the world could possibly love me. that i’m too fat, ugly, annoying and selfish for anyone to love. so i said, from my bedroom last nite, “I’m unlovable!” then my family rushed in, Lilli who is so smart, “I love you! And God loves you!” I said, “No, you don’t. You can’t possibly.” and she made some silly joke to make me laugh about how i was being impossible. and then Guy rushed in, hugging me and kissing me, singing Voice of Truth.

…and the voice of truth tells me a different story,
and the voice of truth says do not be afraid…

which is his subtle-not subtle way of saying, “Shut up! Stop lying to yourself.”

and that’s what i am doing. i’m lying to myself. i’m listening to that tiny, crazy voice that tells me:
i’m worthless.
i’m scared.
i’m not loved.
and that’s not the voice of truth, that’s not the voice of God. that’s the voice of the enemy–my own thoughts OR the twisted up world OR the devil.

i am lovable. i am loved. if for no other reason than God loves me. i am thankful for my family. for my husband, who is the voice of reason. for scooping me up and sparing me from my own terrible thoughts, for giving me undivided attention even when i’m pretty obvious about it. i love you, Guy. thanks for the reminder.

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take me to church

church has begun
it’s not Sunday now
but the bells have rung
we’re attending somehow

church is not
a building or shrine
it’s the body of Christ
it’s the collective mind

church is a place
down in our hearts
alive in our actions
where the Spirit starts

church is a job
church is your wife
church is a neighbor
church is your life

church is happening.
everywhere.

Carve Hearts on the Tree of Life

Proverbs 3:3 NASB

Do not let kindness and truth leave you;
Bind them around your neck,
Write them on the tablet of your heart.

2 Corinthians 3:3 NASB

being manifested that you are a letter of Christ, cared for by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.


Write God’s words with a Sharpie on your heart.
When you wear a necklace, let it be of LOVE or a HEART or the CROSS.
The cross is a symbol of death, but also of love and sacrifice for the entire human race.
Only God can turn death into life.
Keep the letter of the law.
And if not, the spirit of the law.
And if not, GRACE.
And if for no one else–for your own safety and benefit.
Carve into the center of who you are what God wants.
Write those words.
GRACE.
By forgiveness and kindness, we shall be known.
By bearing God’s image, we shall be loved, saved, and most of all, forgiven.

Christmas

Christmas isn’t special.
Christmas is just a day.
Christ wasn’t born on the 25th
In a lighted ornamental display.

There wasn’t any tinsel.
There was not one flake of snow.
There wasn’t any cocoa.
There was no electric glow.

Mary and Joseph
And a little baby God
Sharing time and space
With travelers abroad.

No one cared who they were.
No one even knew
What on Earth was happening,
Except for a special few.

Shepherds watched.
The stars flew close.
Entertaining angels bowed
And played Heaven’s host.

No food or present can capture joy
No movie or card can free
Tomorrow you’ll find your pretty box
Is empty under the tree

The only thing empty to find
Is one important place–
The tomb in the morning with Jesus’ clothes
Replaced with amazing grace.

Light the tree and sing your songs,
I won’t begrudge your choice.
Just don’t forget the simple birth
Of your freedom to rejoice.

The Rock

Psalm 91:1
Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow
of the Almighty.


If I am the immobile mountain, move me.
If your love is the mountain, then I shall be the one to climb.
If your summit is unknowable, then let me dangle from your shadows and shelter.
Let me live at the foot of your love.

Christmas Crash

This is a poem I wrote several years ago. I wrote it for the church I was attending. The drama director had doubts about a white woman writing a spoken word poem in a masculine voice. The piece was for a male performer. That made me want to do it all the more. I think I did a good job and the voice is neutral. Men and women can both be strong. Both love God. Both raise their voices to honor Him.

The drama director was surprised at how well the piece came across and apologized for her doubts. She still never fully trusted me, but that’s her loss. This was my first spoken word poem. I still love it. Here’s a link to me, my husband and my daughter performing it from our home in KC. It may be slightly overwrought, but we’re actors. You can’t fight city hall.


Crash.Crashing.Crushing.Crushed.

I stagger here crushed, crashed into by God,
Crushed by the weight of his mercy and grace,
My sin gone without a trace.
And it feels like…heaven.

A flash.
Flashing.
Hit by lightning, the wonder of his coming,
Saved by his dying,
Crying at the moment I see his glory
And he is revealed to me.

This world is full of:
Head-on collisions,
Rear-view visions.
Hurt may appear
Closer in the mirror.

Hitting, hurting, burning,
Scratching, fighting, scarring.
And we don’t even know
Who we’ve struck on the road

With our carelessness. Our thoughtlessness. Our inhumanity.

Though–we are saved.
Without reason or cause.
Captured and raptured.
In spite of our flaws.

Made by his hands,
Made for his plans,
Made just like him.

Built for relationship.
Desiring fellowship,
Asking for love and loyalty–
Our trust in His royalty.

Our undivided attention.

And when he crashes into us,
It doesn’t hurt.
But you know that you’ve been hit.

Crash.

He crashes into us.
He leaves a mark.
Stunned mind, ears ring.
A mark made by the one, true king.

Crash.

He came on a star.
He left on a cloud.
Here but a brief second.
A drop in the bucket.

But he changed man’s heart forever.

Hit and run.
Hit and stun.
Crash.

Crash.Crashing.Crushing.Crushed.

Crushed by his glory, stick around for the story,
The story of Love.
A story of grace.
God came to earth and showed us his face.
The face of a child in such a lowly place.

Eternal spirit become flesh.
Forever and finite, in a sense,
Wisdom clothed in innocence.

Power in weakness,
Eternity from meekness,
He does nothing but seek us.

He came here to this dangerous space.
A tiny member of the human race
To save.  The.  World.

He crashed into history.
He flashed into being.
Everything changes,
Believing is seeing.

The story gets better.
The story is a letter.
A letter from me to you
By Him.

Read it from beginning to end.
And read it again.
And again.
And again.

Brace for impact.


I feel so lucky that God came down for Christmas. Happy holidays. ❤

1st Amendment or: Why I Celebrate Thanksgiving

US Constitution, Bill of Rights, Amendment 1
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.


Plain-talk pilgrims punished for passion
Simple ways and modest fashion
Boiling it down to what’s important
All things under Heaven subordinate

Lost forever to their motherland
Radical devotion to the Father’s right hand
Known for their annoying zeal
But, oh, to have an ounce of the fervor they feel

Concerned for the future, they left for the wild
Believing to be the obedient child
They lost half, nothing but an epitaph
Yielding to Divination and the Shepherd’s staff

And yet they endured.

On to 1776, our fathers feared for rights
Fought fiercely for freedom beneath the rampart lights
By 1787, we agreed to the essential list
No government should ever rule by sword, or gun, or fist

We may speak and worship how we choose
Humbly honor each other’s views
Gather where we will and please
Carry the jangling links of Liberty’s keys

So today I celebrate the birth of religious choice
I am thankful to live in a country where I can raise my singular voice
I will honor that by being kind and listening to others sing
And rejoice with Thanksgiving at the sound of Freedom’s ring

And yet we endure.

I acknowledge the bloody history of the past, the almost-elimination of the Native American, the withholding of rights for minorities, but on this foundation, we can strive for something better. Uphold the spirit of the law, if not the letter. And the spirit is to offer freedom to everyone, the way in which Christ offers freedom to me. Amen.


Happy Thanksgiving from sunny Florida! Enjoy.

Prepare Ye

from 2012:

i always assume that my nature is good. i never assume things will go bad. thus my constant failure at preparing my heart and mind for the day.

i should remember the temptation to lose my temper/mind is an ever-present danger. satan is a lion seeking to devour.

my guard against it is proper meditation and preparation. christian or not, if u enter into relationships with the world unprepared, you are destined to fail at loving someone else and giving them grace.

Jesus is a Beaver

Hear me out. Er, read me out, I guess.

Jesus is a beaver.

If u wanna know what I’m talking about, you should watch “Leave It To Beavers” on Netflix. Great documentary. If you like animals.

Beavers come into really dry areas and restore the landscape. They bring water. Well, they don’t bring it, they save it.

Little by little, over time, they build their dams. Higher and higher, they build to keep the water in and make the beaver pond deeper and deeper. They churn up the bottom and drag the dirt, silt and sludge from the bottom and seal up the dam to make it tighter and tighter. Waterproof. So no water gets out. This also makes the pond deeper by scooping up the bottom. The deeper the pond, the less evaporation, so the water stays. More water brings more life. More vegetation, more fish, more food, more neighbors…MORE! The bigger the pond, the more neighbors, human and animal alike, can enjoy the benefits and fruits of the pond.

This is what Jesus does.

Doesn’t he?

He brings us more.

Piece by piece, we can build a strong place with Jesus. We can keep his life-giving water in (he says he is the eternal spring) and keep from running dry. He can scoop up the bottom of our lives and use it for good. All the muck and dirt that we accumulate over time, he can churn that up and use it.

And the deeper we go in Jesus? The greener our valley for others. Other people may benefit from the deep pond we have built with Jesus. We can share the fruits of our labor with our neighbors. We can share what we have built in Christ. We can save the landscape.

Beavers don’t even know they are helping. This is just what they are born to do. Build, build, build.

We can be beavers. We can engineer our lives so that we help others. We can be born to do that or become beavers over time. Little by little.

I wanna be a beaver.