Rebel-Lovers

Who would conceiveof Jesus through tales oflewdness and woe?And even if they did,who could achieve it,so those who receive himbring willing praiseto the One who makesthe worst of us good? Nothing thwarts God's plans to save.Nobody and nothinggets in his way.None tell the storyhe tells. Only the Almightyhas the powerand kindnessto turn renegade rebelsinto passionate lovers. Written after reading the stories of Joseph…

Hungry and Full

No one made room for him, save the one who yelled, amidst hay and manure, blood and smells. And she prepared nothing, except to accept-- turns out was enough, she opened herself. The womb that bore him and the heart that said yes were filled with a Savior, to rule and to bless. "Prepare the…

The Little Things

Everyday I’m not left in the dark, or floating in space, or without a bite or something to wear or air, I believe all over again what I’m prone to forget: God is good. His graces are daily. He brings up the sun, pulls tides, grounds gravity, gives food, changes seasons, allows me to work,…

Morning Scramble

Hit, crack, plop. Eggs are beaten; shells are tossed. It’s breakfast with toast and jam. (Forgot this week to pick up ham.) Fire in family room roars and pops. Just how I like it and not too hot. Another log? Please don’t bother. I’ll have to move somewhere farther. All at once, a face is…

To Thrive Where I’m Dry

Dug up. Tilled. Hard words are augers Where they’re spilled. Does your hand hold the plow? Sow bitter seeds that fall? Planted with tears, will you bring a harvest after all? You see the harrowing. You hear when I call. No need to explain. You understand it all. Sprout me green From this soil of…

Holy Hangout

“The Lord reigns,” I read in psalm 99 this morning. It’s not my schedule or my son or my sins that reign. It’s not the calls I need to return or Covid-19 or conservatives and democratsor cronies at the gym. I could fill up the page with all the causes and concerns that do not…

What All the Shoutin’s About

I like imaginin’ praise comin’ outta my house, loud enough to wake up the sun and bring it runnin’ up my mountain, just to see what all the shoutin’s about. Inspired by Psalm 108:1-5 “My heart is steadfast, O God;I will sing and make music with all my soul. Awake harp and lyre! I will awaken the…

The Win

Your words are heardWhile on this earth.A heart is stirred.So begins rebirth. My take away hereIs God for the win, The magic-mirror, And love never ends.I'm never nearerTo him than whenI let go of fearAnd let him in.When love shows the way,I can rest in the search,Hear what you say,Get down off my perch. Let…

Avenger God

Guard your turf,Avenger-God,Judge of earth.Pay back the proudfor their loud mouths.How long, O Lord,will the wicked be glad?How long will their wordsboast and brag?They pummel your people;they crush your kids.They kill widows and orphansand immigrants.They believe you don't see.Well, listen up, fools!Get a clue!God makes the rules. Give him his due!Ear creator hears.Eye designer sees.Knowledge…

Home

God, you’ve been our home since Adam. Before the mountains were born, before you birthed the world, before time began ‘til forever-- for it’s never over-- You. Are. God. You scooped dirt clods, breathed life into dust. You take back our breath, Say, “from dust-to-dust they must.” Mankind is nothing much. A thousand years in…

A Limping Praise

He walks to the door, As if he's just going out with friends. "Remember, mom, when I couldn't reach this lock?" His memory connects with mine. "Yes, I do," I say. The lock clicks, The door opens, He steps through. It's just an ordinary day. A little rain.  Cloudy. "I love you, mom." "I love…

Hungry and Full

No one made room for him, save the one who yelled, amidst hay and manure, blood and smells. And she prepared nothing, except to accept-- turns out was enough, she opened herself. The womb that bore him and the heart that said yes were filled with a Savior, to rule and to bless. "Prepare the…

Dark Thirty

Time stops in the dark. Before dawn, it yawns and stretches. Putters. Lingers. Moseys. Puts on coffee. And sits. Waits. Makes room. I remember endless time before clocks and counting, when the first day of school and the last stretched out like Highway 16, Macon to Savannah. Nowyearscram instead of c r a w l…