like a garden that was oncebeautiful and cared formy heart has been neglectedthirsty and nostalgicfor the Creator's grace to tend to these weeds that have choked the blossom,rooted in a tangible blur of concrete confusion whatever happened to the bible baptist academy?[a one-room school house in montague, michigan]whatever happened to building forts in the woods with the neighborhood … Continue reading a bridge restored
Several years ago I got into a terrible car accident. I had taken my eyes off the road ahead of me, and failed to see that the construction traffic had caused the highway to stand still. My car plowed into the car in front of me, and crashed over the median - end over end … Continue reading (Alive) The Other Side
i feel like i've lost my voiceand my pen has lost its fireand i'm not good at expressing comprehensive thoughtsbut i've become an expert at staring at wallsand losing myself in the wonder ofaugust heatcountry roadsand ashlyn's tearsi've been attempting to write about the rhythm of birth and live and deathand rebirth and life and … Continue reading i miss the old me.
as a drop of water is lost in the oceanso is the flight of the alone to the Alonetake from me these november thoughtsof never enough and endless thirstreplace these tears with the solace of Your Presenceif it was all over tomorrowi've been nothing without Youif these lungs inhaled the sudden conclusionthe rapture from this … Continue reading let me be found in You
A few years ago I was sitting inside a coffee shop in downtown Asheville, North Carolina. It was a cold December, and the year had culminated in a series of inexplicable hardships that can only be remembered with profound sadness. The World Coffee Café was unusually crowded on this blistery morning, as the costumers lined … Continue reading The Business of Hope
Find me here, in the last row of a broken circle. This new family, a worshipping community of African-Americans, has adopted me into the fire of hugs as I sway back and forth to the music. Clapping, standing, sitting, bleeding; my Hosanna was born in a furnace of doubt. My hallelujah is cold and broken. They do … Continue reading The Healing Work of Anonymity