I fall asleep to my petitions, and wake with praise on my lips and the sense of something turned around, as I slept. “I make all things new”, He says. Just like the sun, on a new day is the same but rises clothed afresh in a thousand different shades. Just as...
Space When you’re present is all around you. Space to lift your arms out wide. To twirl. Space to fall down on your knees. To unfurl, and recognise, that when you’re present the whole world stops too. In that moment that you catch your breath, the space catches you....
I, love I, love from here. From my heart, which burns, and beats and smiles and cries. Which starts and smarts, with each move and turn of the subjects of my love. I am mother, I am wife. I am friend, and lover of God. But my heart, is inside out. Love does that. It...
(The words of this poem were written to be sung to the tune of "You are my Sunshine"...) You are my Sonshine, my only Sonshine, You make me happy when skies are gray, I want to tell You how much I love You, Your light shines on me each and every day! The other night...
You are our way. You are our path. You are the ground upon which we walk. The place we lay our head. You are our daily bread. You give us our questions, and the answers, but not always as we expect. You are both our need. And the fulfilment of it. But there is a...
Lent. Speak to me. A word that holds such hidden depths. Take me on your hallowed ground, untouched, and unturned yet by heart or mind. Show me your intents, what you’re yet to unveil. I wait here still, with bated breath, to hear your name revealed. Lent. Lead me on....
It hurts. It hurts when the shell breaks, to make room for the new. When the husk cracks, so that the green can push through. It hurts when we’re growing beyond what our constraints can restrain. Growth cannot be delayed but pushes through, despite the pain. I would...
Whatever fills our soul God gives us that. He is pouring wine into cups. We are to just hold ours out. He causes the sun to rise on all. The earth is ours and all that’s good. And as my skin responds to the warmth of a late winters morning, I see dew still on the bud...
Except a grain of wheat fall, catch the current of the wind, and lose all sense of direction, to rest in a place unbidden and foreign, it remains a single grain. Yet, unbridled or contained, and at the mercy of God’s faithfulness, it bears the seed for the new...
God taught me of love. How it was a like a kite, that you lengthen and let loose. Or the string of a bow that sets an arrow on its path. I guess nothing he taught me was that it was something you kept. Rather it was something that you kept on giving out; like the...