Abiding Mercifully in You

She is one part
Of the body of Christ –
Exuding His light
And touching His heart

The feet are beautiful
Running with the Lord
And carrying His word
To the ends of the earth

The legs are firm
Providing a foundation
For the church and the nations
To grow in dedication.

The arms enfold
Gathering in the hurt
Bringing them close to His heart
So that He may love and nurture

The head brings wisdom
Knowledge of the word
Instruction for the herds
And prophecies from the Lord

But where is she?
Her heart is not at rest
For she finds not a place among the legs,
The head, the arms or the feet.

However, her role is noticeable –
Unseen and insignificant in her own eyes
She is visible in the mirror of Christ
And to others, irreplaceable.

Her work, not in vain, is worthwhile.
She exemplifies His grace
And is quiet in her place.
She is His smile.

*I wrote this about my precious and dear friend Amy.

Come Sit

David went to face his enemies
And found a table prepared before him.
“Come sit,” said a voice.

Elijah looked for God in fire and wind.
Instead he heard a whisper.
“Come sit,” it said.

Martha busied herself preparing a meal
While Mary chose what was better.
“Come sit,” said the Lord.

The disciples sent the children away
But Jesus bid them come.
“Come sit,” He said.

The Father looked down at His Son on the cross,
Then stretched out His right hand.
“Come sit,” He said.

Today, Jesus looks down on His sheep
Running around aimlessly.
“Come sit,” He says.

He sees those who never stop-
They’re always preaching, always serving.
“Come sit,” He says.

The gates of Heaven open wide;
A table is prepared.
“Come sit,” He says.

He points to an empty seat by his.
“I have called you, my child,” He says,
“So come sit.”


My soul speaks

Souls have different languages. Some speak written music, others sing, while still others speak verbally with eloquence. My soul speaks words - on paper, or even before that, stringing together in my mind like long daisy chains. But often when I open my mouth to let them out, the chains are broken; the flowers are blown away.

At times I am frustrated, as it's hard for me to express what my soul knows. Sometimes I feel like my soul speaks a different language than my mind, so when I talk, my heart is lost in translation. But it is my soul that hears from the Lord, as it is His lovely dwelling place. Because He dwells there, anywhere that I might wander has little significance; it is He who guides, He who directs, He who is always constant. He is sovereign in this journey.

In the past, I have been hesitant to share the poetry, analogies, memoir papers, etc. After all, I am the only one who can truly see that my wandering has purpose. But it's time for me to share my wanderings. J.R.R. Tolkien said, "Not all who wander are lost." My wandering soul is steady because of it's Maker, because it is the dwelling place for the most High God.

So now, my soul speaks.