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Showing posts from August, 2010


It's so interesting how certain things will remind me of a time long past and I am transported back to that event in my mind.

Tonight was one of those times. I was laying down, trying to fall asleep. The stickiness of the air coupled with the sound of crickets transported me back to my childhood bedroom. The memory of it is quite vivid.

It's summer. It's hot and humid. My grandparents didn't run the air conditioning at night. I try desperately to fall asleep. I am about eight years old. I turn over my feather pillow with the pink satin pillowcase as an attempt to cool off. I toss and turn and kick the flower-patterned sheets. Nothing is working. I know what I have to do, but I don't want to. I am scared. It is dark.

Reluctantly, I inch my way off the bed and slowly crack open the adjacent window. A slight breeze trickles in, but I am too afraid to notice. Who knows what could be lingering in the shadows?

I crawl back into bed, pulling the thin sheet over me, like s…

The Exception

So, it's late and I am pretty tired, but I wanted to get these jumbled thoughts down. That being said, I apologize in advance if this post seems a little more disjointed than normal.

I don't think we focus enough on love, specifically God's love. Over and over again I am amazed at all of the ways in which God is so gracious to me, even while I am in the midst of hard things; Especially when I am in the midst of hard things.

I come across a scripture, or receive a kind word of encouragement or a selfless gesture from a friend. Today I heard something on the radio that struck me: Life is more than your everyday struggles.

We all face struggles of some sort on a daily basis. Some days I feel like it's a struggle from the very minute I open my eyes until I drift off to sleep at night. On those days, what am I doing to make a difference? On those day when I am a hot mess, how am I being the hands and feet of Jesus?

Lately, the prayer of my heart has been that I will be able to …


As I was straightening up my living room this morning, I paused and looked at the worn, black guitar case resting against the wall. My sister had given it to me when I mentioned to her that even though I am not the most musically inclined person, I'd like to know how to play a few simple worship songs.

The guitar belonged to the father of her children. It was one of the only physical things that remained besides the two boys, now active toddlers.

When I first opened the case, I was disappointed to see that the face of the guitar was cracked and dented. It looked pretty damaged to me, broken. Come to find out he had attempted to beat the living daylights out of my sister with it, but was apparently so high that he ended up hitting the wall among other things.

He was broken. A product of the system. A statistic. He brought his brokenness to my sister and she became broken too.

We are all broken, really. Some of us are just a lot 'less broken' than others. Some of us have fou…


I have had a long day at work. Between all of the typical beginning of the year items, plus the construction and periods without a/c or power, suffice it to say it has been a little more hectic than normal.
I come home and I am tired. I am hot. I am slightly grumpy and all I want to do is sit and be, but I cannot. It is 4:30. Glenn is leaving for work and Jaden is hungry. He wants to know what we're having for dinner. That is a very good question. I don't want to think about it. I want to pick up the phone and order pizza.
But. I. can't.
You see, I don't have money for pizza. I have approximately $5 in my bank account to last until Friday.
It has been a very long season. Glenn has been unemployed for 20 months, just recently procuring a part-time, ill-paying job. The thing is, he wants to work, but full-time work is hard to come by these days. This has been extremely rough on our family.
Most days I'm fine, but I have to admit that sometimes I tire of the situation…

Psalm 147:3

Weary heart so destroyed it shouldn’t beat
It seems whole until shadows change, displaying thousands of scars
All different shapes and sizes; a roadmap of past sorrow laid bare
I trace them remembering, thankful for piercing needle and suture
I am hemorrhaging again, sucking in sharp breath through pain
A pain that deceives healed wounds that time alone could not heal
I alone could not heal
It seems selfish to ask in light of what He has already given
But once again I rip out this heart that has betrayed me
With fallen earth and sordid transgressions
And once again He willingly takes my scarred heart, mangled, bleeding
Handling the damaged flesh like it means something more
With gentle hands that numb the anguish, He grafts over brokenness
The unbearable pain becomes a dull ache that continues to fade, like a scar
By grace, it beats
Linking this to imperfect prose today, because I am broken and in this Lenten season, I desire to focus on Jesus as my sole Redeemer.

Life is Messy

Life is interesting, isn't it?

We experience such jubilant elation at times, but there is also dark periods of gut-wretching sorrow interspersed with the mind-numbing mundane.

I am contemplating how we are to truly live out this life together; how we are supposed walk with one another.

It is tempting to become self-sustained entities with our own routines and standards. It is tempting to keep ourselves closed off from the outside by not allowing others in. Why would I want to tarnish my image and invite others into my mess anyway? Unfortunately, this kind of mentality usually leads to people being unwilling to come alongside others as well; it becomes easier to make excuses than to act.

This isn't the way we are supposed to live out life.

When I think about what living out our lives looks like, some of the following examples come to mind:

Life is...

Answering a phone call at 2am. Dropping everything.

Wiping away tears. Sharing smiles. Giving surprises.

Listening. Praying. Encoura…

My Way

** Disclaimer: I, in no way, am attempting to bash any particular church with this post. God has put this much-neglected topic on my heart to share and I am only being obedient. If you are offended, maybe you should be. God is. **

Division. It's the elephant in our sanctuaries that nobody likes to talk about, but this doesn't change the fact that it is real. It is a nasty by product of the flesh that, if left unchecked and unchallenged, will grow so big that it will cause irrevocable damage while grieving the very heart of God.

We, as Christians, are set apart. We are not supposed to conform to the ways of this world. We are not supposed to treat one another poorly and operate our churches like corporate America.

Jesus, in his prayer recorded in John 17, prayed that we would be one. Paul, in his epistles, reminded us about the importance of unity in the body and keeping the bond of peace (see Ephesians 4).

The harsh reality is that when there is division within a body, it gives…

A Recipe of Sorts

It was a cool summer evening tonight; a rarity for August in Riverside. My mom sent me a text earlier in the evening asking if I wanted to use her 2-for-1 coupon for frozen yogurt (or fro yo as I like to call it).

So we made our way to the Plaza. During our evening, I asked if we could go to Borders. I love clearance sections. I was happily perusing the marked down stationary when I noticed my mother had meandered over to the clearance cookbooks. I have seen this scenario before. Inevitably she will purchase one or two. She must own three or four dozen by now. I, myself, have seen her purchase books, such as: Easy Crockpot Meals, Italian Appetizers, Desserts, and tonight's Paul Deen Cookbook.

Here's the thing. My mom does not cook. Not a lick.

Case in point. I remember when I was 8 or so and I was so ecstatic that my mom was cooking dinner. I lowered my head to look through the thick glass oven door. I remember being literally in awe as I watched the cheese bubbling. What was …