Illuminated

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The twilight of my heart
Rebels against
The dying night.
Like the fiery stars
That litter the
Firmament,
Your love burns
With brilliant veracity
Regardless of the sun’s
Vibrant obscurity.

The twinkling of Your
Love is only intensified
Against a blackened
Backdrop – other forces
Beguile my eyes, but the
Ostensible truth is that
Your love is there – inextricably so.
Whether I can feel it or not.
Whether I can see it or not.
Whether I can hear it or not.
I know it is there because you
Are in everything that is beautiful
And holy.

Folded Hands Unfolding Hopes

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Fill me with Your love
That I may see
With Your eyes.
Give me Your hope
That I may salve
Their anguished hearts.
Saturate my thoughts
With sweet mercies anew
Each glittering day
That I might learn to see
The truth behind
My faults and fears.
Move me to compassion!
Please wash me
In Your empathy
That my innocence
May be marred
In purposeful grief
For those in pain.
Cover me in Your grace
That I might walk with
Dignity and poise — dressed
In Your love’s perfected
Adornments — unashamed
And glowing in the majesty
Of Your holiness.

Words Like Daggers

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Sticks and stones
Thrown into hope’s
Dwindling fire —
My broken heart!
Scattered tipis
Of bones and ash
Hurling love’s insult
To my added injury —
The sharpness
Of your envenomed
Affection
And your words —
Like pointed daggers —
Bleed the fire
From my lips
Dripping with sin.
Spread the compost
On piety’s
Dying embers,
And watch it
Blossom into
Violence.

I Am That I Am.

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I am Mara.
I am the bitterness you taste
In each sip of your morning
Coffee.

I am Rahab.
I am the lust burning in your eyes.
I am the harlot of disquieted imaginings.
I give and you take. You give
And I crawl into my dreams.

I am Sarah.
I am unbelief. I am mistrust.
I am the joy leaving your lips
In your sweet, soft laughter.

I am Mary.
I am the sainted wonder
of His fire. I am the bearer
of life and splendor.

I am Martha.
I am the dishrag hanging
From the hooks of your heart.
I clean. I scrub as you keep tracking
Mud into the waxed floors of my mind.

I am beauty —
I am hate —
I am strength —
I am frailty –
I am…
I am Redeemed.

I am more than my name.
I am more than the labels I give myself —
I am more than the stickers and gold stars
Of approval from other broken
Maras, Marys, and Sarahs.
I am who I am because He is
Who He is – the great and mighty
I AM.

The Rocking

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My heart swells
as I hold you
so tightly
in my arms

This is
Love

I was
told that
I would
understand it
when I got
older, but I
didn’t believe
them

Until now.

Your sweet
little lashes
kiss your
soft doughy
cheeks, and I
pray…

I pray that you
that you will
be safe

I pray that
you will find
happiness

I pray that you
will feel
loved

I pray that you
will find
love

I pray that you
will be
wise

I pray that you
won’t feel
pain

But mostly
I pray that you
close those
relentless
dark eyes
staring back
at me

and

fall

asleep.


The picture is of my daughter when she was only a week old. They say, all babies have blue eyes, but my daughter had gray steely eyes — her eyes have since turned into a rich brown color, which is stunning against her blonde curls and tan skin. I will never forget all those lovely (and sometimes not so lovely) nights rocking her to sleep. I would think she was finally asleep only to look down and see her dark eyes intently staring back at me, so I would pray — just as I pray now for her and others who are dear to me. 

Prayer

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Simple and small,
my voice fills the void:
Can you hear me?

Eyes pressed shut
closing out the chaos
of the new day’s dawn.

Flying from my mind
Heavenward —
but earthly-bound

enfolded neatly
like the ripples of lace
encasing my pillow

my thoughts, my words
my fears, my failures
my hopes, my dreams

carried by Seraphim Wings
to the threshold
of Your Heart.