Searching for some truth...

Don't fear the pen though it may speak truth

my heart yearns for clarity, for You.

it's been too long, i need to be still

to know you are God, to know you are real

i don't fear the morning with it's uncertainties

nor my faults, my losses, my enemies

i fear only the Lord and trust in Him

though the trust is tried in the daily interim

Such is man

Has ever the rooster
in his slumber
once missed the morning crow

Or the bluebird in flight
in the winter
forgotten where to go

Can flowers bud in winter
A hope grow from despair

Such is man
in his search for love
in his search for the meaning of life

Goodbye June

I hope I haven't completely lost your readership in my absence. Here are some poem crumbs that I wrote. I couldn't/have not yet put them together into one pie. Perhaps they don't all fit in the same pie. Anyway, maybe they would make a better cobbler. Can anyone even tell me the difference between pie and cobbler?

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Phantom Henry

Feel him in my arms, though we've long driven away
see him behind my eye's curtains, a picture here to stay
wrap my arms tight around his chest, as I often hope to feel
grant our dreams to another and see them become real.

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I Plead Guilty

Biding my time
make decisions not mine
flesh rules the body
forget God who set me free

My eyes are glued to the greed
my fingers are sticky
with the violence, the pain, the agony

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Confessions of a Girl

Wondering not
if my story would end
with the rescue of a handsome prince

But wondering rather
after inspection of my worth
the capture would ever commence.

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Speak Up

women be freed
but don't preach equality
forgetting we are not the same
devaluing the title "feminine"

muslims and christians
we do not agree
don't use arms
but rather rationality

why do we fear
what we misunderstand
no excuse
it's the age of information

Be a Voice

Visit this website:
http://www.prisoneralert.com/

It is here that you can take part in serving our brothers and sisters in chains. Write letters of encouragement that will be sent to the imprisoned. Write letters to the government officials pleading to release them. Most importantly, pray for them.

Three people are highlighted each month.
Click on the link above and find out about Gao, Gulsher, and Sandul.

White Martyrdom

The threat of which our brothers and sisters in chains face each day for the sake of Christ. These believers praise Jesus from behind prison bars, from under the harsh persecution of officials, from the abandonment of blood relatives. They praise Him with swollen feet that carry the Gospel to remote towns, with frail and depraved bodies just released from merciless captivity, with scars relating stories too gruesome to be told. The praise on their lips is the very nourishment that sustains their wounded bodies and spirits. They are under attack.

American Christians are also under attack. We do not have to endure physical persecution or the threat of imprisonment and death, but we are daily faced with the decision to lay aside our weak flesh and follow Christ no matter what the cost.

A sensual scene, a licentious lyric, a tasteful treat. I've given in to temptation.
A knowing glance, a warm touch, a binding word. My thoughts run away with me.
An escape, an addiction, a crutch. I'm looking everywhere for freedom.

They may be bound in chains, but they are free in Christ. We are free to roam, but we are bound by the selfishness and greed that sustains our country. It's not about changing the system; it's about changing our hearts.

Whether it costs us our blood or our manner of living, we will surrender all.
White or red, we will be martyrs if we endure.

All riches and honor and glory to Jesus, the Blessed Redeemer.

Persevering through the pain

As of tonight, flossing is my new habit. I have been flossing now for about 5 months, ignited by a particularly painful visit to the dentist. At first, my newfound discipline was painful. My gums would bleed every time I flossed for at least the first two weeks. If this is supposed to be so good for me, why does it hurt so much? I often thought. But, standing in front of the mirror each night, gingerly flossing my softened gums, I was reminded of my conviction after the last dentist visit and I pressed on. Initially, my motivation was to avoid pain during my next visit and to avoid the familiar scolding from the dentist. Superficial motives, but they have sufficed for the past few months. It was only tonight that my motivation rooted itself deeper than self-love and human affirmation. I realized that after my next dentist visit, I would again be faced with the decision to continue flossing because my previous motivation would have been satisfied. Would the same motivation be as effective the second time? and the third? and the fourth? I would have to develop a more solid rationale for flossing if I expected this habit to remain. It came to me tonight as I was standing in front of the mirror, nonchalantly flossing my seasoned gums, that I will continue flossing because I want to be a good steward of the healthy teeth I have been given. There we go. That will do.

Had I decided not to continue flossing, it would eventually take a toll on my body. So, one may argue, why put myself through the pain in the first place if my teeth will eventually rot out of my mouth. Why prematurely enforce pain in my body which wouldn't otherwise have been there to achieve some long term, out of sight benefit?


It is time. It is time to stop making excuses. It is time to stop skirting pain. It is time to stop rationalizing. It is time to stop falling into old habits. The hurt may linger and try to convince me otherwise. In these times, brothers and sisters, keep me from falling again. Sure, my motivation may be childish now - obey a will not my own, a command in contradiction with my heart - but soon I will be feeding on solid food, my character strengthened and my testimony a guidance to others. Sure, it may be painful now, but it will pass and the dough kneaded firmly will rise higher than the weakly kneaded.



It is time to make new habits.

It is time to believe that "all discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness." (Hebrews 12:11)

Escaped but still imprisoned

People say that knowledge is power, that it can set you free.

In the third grade, my mom sewed together a butterfly costume for me to wear to the annual halloween party at our neighborhood community building. Being the shy and insecure lil' thing that I was, I put it on and sheepishly walked down the steps into the recreation hall, my eyes quickly darting from girl to boy to see how my costume measured up. We circled around the hall like a merry-go-round, waving to friends and family as we passed. Meanwhile, the judges marked down their votes for the awards. There would be "The Prettiest," "The Most Scary," "The Funniest," and others. I walked home that night with the "Most Original" award, feeling like I had gotten just what I deserved: a plain award for a plain, uninteresting girl. I did not know what the word "original" meant. Honestly, I thought it was a synonym for standard, run-of-the-mill.

I've changed a lot since then: I don't want to be like everyone else. So, I spend time thinking about how to cut my hair, how to write my name, how to do my makeup. I spend time thinking about what clothes to wear, what profession to choose, what blogs to post. I spend time thinking about what to write on my facebook status, what banner to put on my phone, what message to leave on my answering machine. I spend time thinking about how to decorate my room, how to reply to "how are you?", how to spend my time and money.

I spend time thinking about how not to think about these things. I do this all to receive one infamous title: "Most Original."

And, how original am I really? If what I truly seek all the while is the approval of others. Their acceptance. I want to fit in. Now, I'm back at square one.

So, I know what original means.
I still feel powerless.