Poetry

The Colors of Hope

Experiencing and expressing pain is always vulnerable, but you know what? Experiencing and expressing joy is vulnerable too. I’m so glad God is with us for both. Could it be we feel overwhelmed and filled with unrest because we are afraid to rejoice? I’m glad we don’t have to feel brave to bravely open our hearts to the joy, hope, and healing of God.

We can open up.

Words for Women

The Surprising Habit of Pain

Pain has a surprising habit of crushing our hearts gloriously nearer to God Himself. And it is God who can take the impossible--especially the impossible!–and transform it into beauty while pressing His love and goodness deep into our chasm of heartache.

But we turn to despair so fast.

Surely pain is here because we are not good enough yet. Surely pain is here because God wants suffering for us. Surely pain is here because God is withholding His goodness from us, and we don’t know why.

Everything about these thoughts is incredibly wrong, and yet so easy to fall prey to. We grab hold of our pain and shape it against God and if it doesn’t quite fit our outline of Him, we take it back and yell at God WHY and believe His goodness is dependent on our definition of good.

But God never fits into our definition, and if He did? Well, we’d be scared out of our minds. We wouldn’t want to serve a God who could easily fit into our narrow-minded ideas. Continue reading “The Surprising Habit of Pain”

Words for Women

Learning to Sing

It was just a regular morning. I woke up, heard the coffee grinding, took a hot shower, got dressed, slapped on some makeup, examined the snapdragons I can’t get enough of, and made my way to work.

But as I was walking to the truck, a picture of myself and God popped into my head. I was standing in the valley and He was teaching me how to sing a new song I hadn’t imagined for myself.  It had the the sweetest sound. only there wasn’t any melody yet, just the promise of one. I didn’t look sad or depressed. I was overwhelmed by love. I was ready. I was surrendered. I was confident.

And so I almost started to cry right there on  my way to the truck.

This wasn’t a strange vision, it was a picture of victory. It was me finally seeing a beautiful picture of what has taken place in my heart through days and days of being sure nothing was going to get better or become any kind of best.

The year of 2018 is impossibly becoming a place of thanksgiving. And I want to be made of thanksgiving…stitched and bound and woven. Which is a way of life and a way to life.  Continue reading “Learning to Sing”