she never stops trying (a song for Bethany)

there’s a girl that i know just a few blocks away

and she’s filling up with wisdom for her words and her ways

i said, “i neglect you and i wanna be all that i should”

she said, “i’m here for learning on, and i think that you’re good”

and the thing i like about her

is that she never stops trying

digging down and building up

with a purpose that’s never dying

never dying

she’s painting with a brush of the beauty she can’t see

singing from a canvas the colours that we need

she said, “my steps fall weighty... as i start to learn my part 

in the dance” and i think Jesus is living in her art

and the thing i like about her

is that she never stops trying

digging down and building up

with a purpose that’s never dying

never dying

she dances with a broom every night before bed

sweeping up the footprints with a song in her head

that girl is only two years and seven months older than i am

she’s my sister and a woman and my friend

and the thing i like about her

is that she never stops trying

she never stops trying

when this wind stops

i just found something i wrote 3 months ago, 
after the tornado. 
that storm gave us perspective and we clung to it, 
waiting for the commotion to die down 
so we could finally move on and begin 
to do life differently... 
to somehow do it better.

maybe tomorrow
you and i will follow
that trail...
you and i, maybe.


maybe another day
we'll shoo all our cares away
together,
another day.


'cause when this wind stops
we're pullin' all the stops.
when it dies,
we live and carry on
a new way.

today, i choose

today,

i dismiss  fear, 

the robber of every good thing. 

it prepares me for nothing. 

it neither braces me for my world that fa l l s    a p a  r    t ,

nor comforts me amidst the rubble. 

today, 

i choose joy, 

the revealer 

of a deeper corner 

of the very heart

of  the One  who  saves me;

the teacher 

of who He truly is. 

and as i learn of Him, i trust Him. 

and my world falls apart. 

and this time i see Him 

picking uP the pieces 

to BUILD FOR ME

an eternal weight of glory.

"Therefore we do not lose heart. 

Even though our outward man is perishing, 

yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. 

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 

is working for us a far more exceeding 

and eternal weight of glory, 

while we do not look at the things which are seen, 

but at the things which are not seen. 

For the things which are seen are temporary, 

but the things which are not seen are eternal."

~2 Corinthians 4:16-18

moving in (what good is stuff?)

what good is stuff? 

i have enough!

it overwhelms and drowns me.

a twister came and took it all;

for 3 days i was free.

then i remembered all the things

i’d stored and loved and cherished:

gifts and letters, photos, files,

things i thought had perished.

i grieved the losses, one by one,

i cried and laid them down.

and then the notice came 

that we could make the trip downtown

to save the things we thought were lost,

to trash the rest and leave it.

and now, our house is nearly full

of stuff - i can’t believe it!

i spend my days arranging, now,

and often i recall

the day the twister came to town,

the day we lost it all.

i wonder why i work so hard

to sort these things i own...?

then i remember that we’re called

to minister at home -

to make our house a place of rest,

of fellowship and giving.

a place of warmth and comfort,

for loving and for living.

and then i think of other homes 

that do not have so much,

and i wonder why the Lord

has overflown my cup...?

i’m torn between the attitudes

of thanks and sabotage!

i want to throw it all away,

though it may yet serve a cause...

to help me in this funny world

of hoarding and of lacking,

to teach me to be balanced

while i’m moving and unpacking. 

thank You, Jesus, for Your love

and for my stuff. Amen.

help me to be thankful 

that You gave it all again.

my hero

a song for my husband - the strong, silent type. after our first natural disaster (tornado) together, i find i have a lot to learn about him...

i see you wincing through the pain

i would wipe the tears away

i feel you trembling in the rain

only i see you this way

i watch you as the days unfold

your patience, wearing thin

i wait to hear you speak to me,

oh baby, let me in 

the wind may blow our shelter down

the calm may never come

the hail may tear our world apart

and lead us far from home

still, in this storm i see you

i see you standing tall

your posture is sky-reaching

though the sky may truly fall

and fall and fall

i see you and i feel you

i would wipe the tears away

i know you and i love you

only i see you this way

i watch you as the days unfold 

your patience, wearing thin

i wait to hear you speak to me,

oh baby, let me in 

my hero

you’re reaching out to me

i’m the only one you hold like this

i feel you pull me in

my hero

When the Saints

Three weeks and two days ago, I was sitting in my pjs at my computer, listening to my sister’s Sara Groves cd. I was playing and replaying the song, When the Saints, and I had looked up the lyrics online so I could read along as the words so powerfully sang out:

(Click to listen)

I was interrupted part-way through the song, at one point, by a tornado that ripped through my town and took my home from my husband and me. Chaos and trauma ensued, filling our lives for the next three weeks, threatening to do so even now as I type, and into the days ahead.

A few minutes ago, I was sitting in my parents’ camping chair in my new home, with my stuff surrounding me and emotions running wild. My heart was bursting as I ate my scrambled eggs in front of the computer, listening to When the Saints once again. Only then did I recall exactly what I had been doing when the storm came crashing into our lives those weeks ago: my heart had been bursting then, too, and I had been yearning for something deeper in my soul - a spiritual experience with my Heavenly Father. Something that would change me and make me more real, more charitable, more understanding and more productive in this life for eternity.

I think back again to the devastation caused by the wind, water and hail that afternoon. The memories and news of broken homes and lives cause great heartache. And in my own little life today, I see something. Deduce what you will, but I say this thing is good for me. Maybe the cry of my heart was heard and answered. Maybe something here is happening for eternity and maybe it’s going to be okay.

monday

pouty, irritated, not so motivated;

take it out on husband and friend.

overworked, annoyed, feel a little void,

wanting and not wanting day to end.

this must be a monday,

ridiculous, unfun,

this must be a girl in her own brain.

step outside apartment,

underneath the sun,

close the eyes and let the mercy rain.


cLiCk hEre