A Sweet Longing

At the beautiful creek
which flows from the smooth,
straight cut angles of
The Place Under the Bridge
into the weathered rocks of
Time,
I am not there;
I am sitting on Jesus' knee,
still, quiet, content.
The cars passing by see
me sitting in the grass
among the wild flowers;
but I myself am not there.

In my own solitary room,
at 5:47 am,
I am not sitting in my pink bowl chair;
I am in Africa
smiling
holding the babies
that I have found
or maybe, they have found me.
They smile, laugh,
and I am overflowing with joy.

In the car, watching
the trees rush by
just beyond my window,
I am not there;
I am in the Amazon jungle,
breaking the chains of
injustice,
poverty.
I am making necklaces with
beads of sky, charms of silver
alongside Thai women
who have come from a
life of enslavement.
Now, they and I are equal.
We work
and are paid fairly.

It's not that I don't like
the creek,
my room,
the car.
But why can I not be there?

To Be Honest...

To be honest, it's been very tough lately. 


I don't understand anything. Really, I don't.

I'm truly coming to terms with how much I need JESUS. My own strength is not enough. It was never enough.

Trust? It's a hard concept for me to swallow.

But how else would I have faith?

See, faith is an action. It doesn't take much to say, "Okay, God, I believe that you're there."

But putting your whole life in His hands? That's hard.

But it's worth it. On my knees, crying out for Him. It's the most beautiful place to be. He swoops down, pulls me into His lap, and says, "Darling, you are mine."



When I can't feel You
I have learned to reach out just the same.
When I can't hear You
I know you still hear every word I pray.
And I want You
More than I want to live another day.
And as I wait for You
Maybe I'm made more...faithful.