Sunday, August 28, 2011


Take this heart of stone.

Melt me into a puddle of wax.

Shave me and craft me into something lean, something holy.

Instill in me a hunger for you, a wick that runs into my deep.

Set me aglow and may I only ever burn brighter for you.

May I melt again, lower this time, bring me lower still.


*I start working night shifts in t-minus 2 hours and 51 mins! FREAK OUT!*

{I think this little guy liked me. I can hardly imagine a plague with them... ah no}

{after 4 hours of worship and 1 hour of dancing, we were a lovely sweaty mess}

{With 3 hours of sleep under my belt and tea in my future, I climbed onto the 10 and ventured on home. Heart weekends at the Hoyts}

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Still dreaming.

I close my eyes and I am lead away.

I am in a new land.

It is impressed upon me that there is innocence in the garden.

Reality in the desert.

I am in a dry land.

In the midst of a junk yard.

Scraps of one-time furniture, well past its prime, surround me.

Along with train tracks.

And garbage.

It is hot here, and it smells bad.

All is decaying.

And I see people.

People that most would not look in the eye.

People that most would go out of their way to walk around, not wanting to cross paths.

People that looked like the underbelly of society.

Simply known as "those people", my gut tells me that you can picture them too.

They would be the ones that some raise charity for and most try hard to push outside of their consciousness.

And it starts with one.

He is disturbed.

He sits down in the fragments of what was a chair and begins to place himself in a straight jacket.

I am confused.

I am a bystander.

There to see, unable to respond.

And another one.

She climbs onto a chair and places herself in restraints.

She is every bit as frantic.

I don't understand.

And even more run across the train tracks.

I have turned now, turned to watch them.

They are running away from me and they stop.
The train is coming.

We can feel it.

The tracks are between us.

It turns the bend.

They turn around.

They are heading for the tracks, but why?

I watch as they willingly step onto the tracks.

They are not crossing this time, they are walking.

Sure footed, they intend on staying on the tracks.

The train is closing ground.

Urgency builds inside my chest, bubbling up to my vocal cords.

My real eyes open.

The sun is rising.

My hope is this: that the Son has risen.

To break the captives free.

It is what this frail life was fashioned for.


Saturday, August 20, 2011


{Visited Kathryn lovelovelove}

Am I ready?

Do I trust You?

Has Your work been made perfect in me?

Do I know that Your blood is enough?

Am I aware of this daily: that I am sick and need a Savior?

Do I give You the whole gift of a joyful surrender?

Do I love Your people, well?

Have I scraped the bottom of the well that is me and been undone in Your deep waters?

I gift You with my dirty rocks: rebellion, independence, rigidity.

You pardon my shortcomings, more like my tallcomings, and You gift me with fullness.

Blood that is shared.

Grace that is sufficient.

Life that is abundant.

Yes, I am ready.

Let my way be Your ways, Your love, Your life.

I am where I belong and I only belong with you.

May we rock to the lullaby that is Your glory and may the offering of my awe be enough to wash Your feet.

I like You.

and I always, always will.


I wrote this during church tonight. Funny how you can be somewhere, but be so far from present. Back from the Bay area! Here's a photo recap...

{Walking the bluff before antiquing}

{Dinner in Bodega Bay... they def gave us the honeymoon table! ha}

{Here comes trouble}

{The man taking our photo asked "Hotttt lovers or best friends??" and we laugh}

{Our hotel room for the night!}

{Before haircut and babysitting 3 adorable girlies}

{After.... and after a bean burrito and peaches. Maybe not the best idea I've had in a while}

Friday, August 12, 2011


They are almost always memorable.

Heightened senses.

Excitement of the unknown.

They can be exhilarating.

First days.

First tastes.

First stories.

First hurts.

One heart, many wounds, all in different stages of healing.

First time loving in spite of hurts

Reminding me that love is not an accident.

It is very much intentional.

First experiences.

But what about the mundane?

What about the other 23.8 hours of the day when life gives way to habit?



The familiar.

It is when the closet door is closed for the umpteenth time, today.

It is when the suppressed longing rises with the sun each morning.

The longing to be held, the longing to belong.

What about the days when faith takes just that: faith?

For days when firsts are not in sight.
For days when reality reveals hours, vacant of new experiences.
For days when there is just enough energy to maintain
and exhaustion comes with the thought of moving forward, upward, homeward.

For days like today, would You instill in me an new love for You?

I want to love You like today was our first day together.

Like today was the first time that this daughter was reunited with her Father.

Like today was the first time I was introduced to Your rest and fullness.

Like today was the first time I found you wildly in the small confines of my closet.

Like today was the first time I felt You, consuming and longing.

Like today was the first time I was moved to tears by who You are.

Like today was the first time I realized that You are all the strength I will ever need.

I am here.

I am quiet.

I am ready.

Ready to love my First love as if it were the first time.


Sunday, August 7, 2011

The only gift to give.

Restless, my feet hit the floor well before 6.

My mind can't stop, so why should my feet?

Shoes on, hair up, I begin.

I am found in the aftermath of thought obedience.

Where is my joy?

I know that You are intimate because You desire that which is dear in my heart.

You do not ask for gifts of the material, for You know me well.

The material does not hold me.

It can be given freely, without sacrifice.

You call for the personal.

You gently ask for my innermost desire and call forward my surrender.

I am running.

I always want to move towards You.

Fear can be distracting.

You pursue me with Your favor, even in my indecision.

Who am I that You would show me Your goodness while my heart is wavering?

With Your history of faithfulness, who am I to hesitate?

I come around.

I return towards You.

I surrender.

Eyes open, it is a new day.

Where is my joy?

You are faithful to meet me, even when I am standing still.

You speak to my heart of Your ways and I am sad.

I have robbed You of the gift.

What is surrender without joy?

What kind of a gift has this daughter given her Father?


I may have gifted You with surrender, but it is not whole without my gladness.

And His feet strike the ground.

And His load is heavy, heavy as a tree.

And He is walking for this daughter.

And He whispers to me in my closet and says "I get it. Surrender is hard. But for you, I did it with joy. For you are my joy."

With feet dipped in the oil of gladness, You walked the hard road for me.

May I be no different.

May I give the only true gift.

A joyful surrender.


Saturday, August 6, 2011

Be afraid.

It tells me that the sky is falling.

Listen, you can hear it too.

Be afraid.

Be afraid of being the loving one and yet unlovable.

Be afraid of not belonging.

Be afraid of being alone.

Be afraid of being ordinary.

Be afraid of being overcome by doubt.

Be afraid of refraining from a wonderful path.

Be afraid of giving Him the most intimate desires of your heart.

Be afraid of Him when He chooses to accept them and never gives them back.

Be afraid of that fire growing dim.

Be afraid of being exposed, lacking protection.

Be afraid of lacking in courage.

True is: this may be my circumstance.

Truth is: Jesus is bigger than my circumstances.

Truth is that He has called me by name and instilled courage in my person.

Truth is that even if one can touch my body, they cannot harm my soul.

Truth is Your Spirit manifested as a dove to one person, The One. To the rest, it has come as fire. You are not finished with me, Your fire will continue to fall, to ignite.

Truth is You are a good God, even when Your hands are empty towards me, Your heart is still full.

Truth is I was fashioned to desire intimacy with You and it is possible because of Jesus.

Truth is, that may just be a wonderful path, but if it's not the one for me to walk on, You are still worthy of my deepest praise.

Truth is Jesus has purchased the victory of my mind, with His blood. His faithfulness is greater than any seed of doubt.

Truth is You are great in me and greatness will come from me.

Truth is You have promised to never leave or forsake and You have yet to fail me.

Truth is You have called me Your beloved and sought me from the wilderness. While I was stubborn and wily, You loved me and called me home. You are the utmost answer to my deepest insecurity.

Truth is You loved me even when I was unlovable.

Following Jesus has cost me much.

Tonight, it has cost me my fear.

Truth is:
Even though I walk through the valley,
I will fear no evil.
You are my Shepherd and You are great.
You will lead me on the paths of righteousness,
for it is who You are.
You will rest me in your pastures, tall and green,
and lull me to sleep next to Your deep and rushing waters.
I will eat in the presence of my enemies,
for You are to be trusted.

May You anoint my head with oil until my cup overflows and may I dwell in Your home, Your heart, forever.


Friday, August 5, 2011

Musings from my closet.

Here I am,

naked before You.

You breathe life into these ashes.

You scrub this dirty soul clean.

You wash me with the only red that makes white.

And you clothe me with robes of righteousness.

You set me in the chair of belonging

and my tears sing the only true chorus:

It is all because of Jesus.


Thursday, August 4, 2011

Speak life: take a look at truth.

Guest blog from the lovely Briauna Hoyt.


I am a daughter of Jesus. He is my daddy. I am called to be an alien. To go against the flow. To set the standard. To blaze a trail. I am different, and there is beauty in that. He loves that I don’t look like everyone else. I am made unique to the call God has on my life. I am unique to the heart of my Father. I can love on Him, like no one else is capable of. No one else was made for the purposes I am called to. I am chosen, picked out of millions. He saw beauty in me. He saw potential in me. He saw greatness. Chosen, so not only I can bring happiness and reconciliation to the world, but to lead others to reconciliation and happiness. I am on a mission. I have greatness inside of me because of Christ being great. He is capable of all things, so I am capable of all things. I am able to do more than Christ did if I want too, but I have to desire it, I have to seek it out. Everything I want in my life is found in Him. My heart was made to love His. He is the other half, the missing link, the puzzle piece. When I’m with Him, it is the only way I can experience REAL satisfaction and contentment. No one else will satisfy me like He does. They cannot.
Love is misplaced when I spend it on anything but my Father because it is impossible to find wholeness in dead things.
He will never leave me, and He HAS never left me. When I feel alone, it is because of my perspective, but it is not truth. I fail, but He never has and He won’t. His heart for me is good. When I don’t understand, I choose to believe He is making it all work out for my good. If it doesn’t come when I want I know, it will still be worth the wait. I can’t trust anyone like I can trust my Daddy. He has awakened a hope in my heart by calling into existence my destiny. I won’t be a follower, I will be a leader. I will cling to the words of my Father and what He says is true. He is the only source of what is right and good in this world. I think Gods thoughts because I have the mind of Christ. I will not be a conformer and go with the wide paths of this world, do you hear that devil, I will not be a conformer, you will not get your way. I will be a transformer in my actions and my thinking,I will choose to follow the straight and narrow path even if I have to stand alone. Because I am never truly alone, You will never let go of my hand and when my paths get difficult, you will ask me to climb on your back as You carry me with Your strong arms. Your love is strong. I won’t worry and I won’t stress out because you know what I need. My flesh may get weak, but You live inside of me and Your Spirit is so strong in me. Because greater is He that is in me than He that’s in the world. Your word will always be my reference point and final authority in my life. I am a success regardless of my circumstances and situations. I will trust you with my heart because you won’t hurt it, take advantage of it, or play with it. Your love is medicine for my soul, you never give up on me. I will love You in the good times and the bad. I am grateful because what You’ve already done for me is enough always and forever. And I will always L o v e y o u.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Waiting for what?

You are standing now.

Comfortable, you think.

And if not?

Perhaps you could talk yourself into it.


Far removed from your inward cry.

You are standing.

In high heels.

Flashy; but not fitting with your unpolished toes.

The blisters sink in.

This isn't right.

Then it comes...


What are you afraid of?

"Taking them off." You reply to yourself.

And your heart beats just a bit faster.

"But why?" Your insecurities scream in rebuttle.

Why kick them off to the side of the road when there isn't another pair in sight?

"Because" it is spoken in a whisper.

Not mine, but His.

"Because maybe I want you to walk barefoot."




A mess.

But maybe that is okay?


Maybe that is holy.

My feet were made to be undignified.

For His purposes.

For His path.

What if He is calling me to strip off the new, the bright, and what if He is calling me to walk in the dirt?


There is nothing between the soles of my feet and His soul.

What if He has found me one to wash, not cover?

One to walk the holy with me?

One that is undone?

Very dark, but lovely.

What if He has fashioned one to wash my feet, not one to parade in?

What if my questions could always be answered in Jesus?

What if He is just longing for surrender?

What am I waiting for?