Each day unfolds more leaves squinting in the sunshine welcome, newborn life!
Read more "Springtime Haiku"
morning lay just beyond the stone the air washed clean of pain and sorrow in the darkness fingers brushed against linen smoothed folded over set apart for John bare feet on cool stone and the gilded glow of a new day
Read more "Grave Clothes"
Look what Christ can do— bound as He was to a cross, weary and strangled in pain, a joke on the lips of man, a curse on the lips of God— death of the Immortal. He died like no one else— the pride of the Father’s eyes, a portal torn in the veil from Satan’s […]
Read more "What Christ Can Do"
He had the hands of a man,
grown from curled-up baby hands
to dirty, in-a-hurry boy hands
to hands that could wield
a hammer and nails;
hands obscured for thirty years
in seas of Jewish hands;
revealed—man-defying Teacher hands,
hands that could hold
and shelter and bleed;
hands, nearer with every breath,
to nail-intruded hands,
to weighed-with-the-sins-of-the-world hands,
the hands still moving,
washing dirt from feet.
His hands are the hands of God,
blameless, righteous, holy hands,
the died-and-lives-forever hands,
the hands that welcome
sinners into life.
Read more "The Hands of Christ"
That the Lord of the universe should make Himself small, a microscopic speck on a planet obscured in light years of galaxies, is a wonder. That the Holy One, ablaze with purity, should walk straight into the ugliness of this world and eat with sinners is another. But there is a greater wonder— that the […]
Read more "Wonders"
I like a lot of songs, but not many like me, not out of rudeness— real songs are not rude— they are just busy with notes and lyrics and keeping pace. But this song must have eyes for kindred spirits, must be the voice to unspoken enchantments, because every word and every beat turn me […]
Read more "Favorite Song"
The spider who threatened my head as she trespassed across the wrong bed Mis-measured the distance of the flip-flop resistance and now lies in state with the dead. … Based on a true I-wish-it-would’ve-ended-this-way story The true fate of Shelob II is currently unknown. It is unclear whether she met her demise in the great […]
Read more "Shelob II"
Awake, oh heart, and sing for whatever today may bring is a dear and precious thing from the hand of our God— the wonders we couldn’t have dreamt of or the solemn grief-proofs of love descend alike from above— so sing! And the foe will be hushed. .
Read more "Awake and Sing"
I mean to say all kinds of things, but I forget; my public and my private mind have never met.
Read more "The Awkward State of my Brain"
The winter world is cold— and withered and old— the trees droop, still and bare, in the scathing air, clothed only in gray loss— mourning the leaves lately buried with the frost. … But the sky is soft as mother-love for children wounded of life— it is older than the cold and beautifully, gently bold.
Read more "The Winter Sky"