To know and be known.

One time when I was a child,

I met a man named Broken

He showed me scars, scabs, and holes

He introduced me to scratches and stings

I’d not known these before

They came from far away

A country my mother would have called Foreign

I’d known bunnies, cats, and teddies

Carrots, bread, and chocolate

Pennywhistles, autoharps, and guitars

But Broken told me his name was mine

That I shared a birthday with his brother Shame

And I had the voice of his sisters Destruction and Approval

They moved into my house

Told me they were family

They shared my vision

They were life

So I communed with them

Though I reviled the way they became myself

So I folded myself up tight

I dug deep under my bed

I found an old shoebox and tucked myself in

To be sure no one would see the deepest reaches

And I lined it with sharp edges so it couldn’t be opened


We had both met a man named Healing

Healing had been wounded when He was alive

The ones He loves had stripped Him of His skin

Disrobed Him to His bones

And pinned Him up to dry

He gave us meals of bread and grapes

He built us a new house

With tools to evict the dysfunction

To file down things that pierce

To rid ourselves of our boxing walls

And to go and do the same on our walk


I met a boy called Descendent

I told him my name was Broken

That I was sister to Shame, Destruction, and Approval

He showed me ducks, cats, and trucks

Toast, chocolate, and almonds

Autoharps, guitars, and shaped notes

He told me to climb out of my box

Peeled back the razor edges

Took my hand and helped me out

Asked for help with his own box

And a bowl of something hearty and warm

Together we knock down walls

Holding hands, we help build houses

Intertwined, we know and we are known




My heart is combustion

My bones ache

Comfort me

Understand me

Find patience for me

Remind yourself of me

For, I took your name

I ate up your words

And made them my oasis

In the den of my solitude

Your passion became my own

I watered myself with you

But now my skin cracks and bleeds

My tongue is thick for lack of quenching

But I don’t lack the taunts of those I love for you

I squabble with my brothers for a living

Oh, protector!

I’m broken shards because of you

How long will I be torn apart?

How much longer will these gashes stay open?

Come along

Speak My piece

Walking with Me

They’ll fight

I’ll fortify

We’ll keep walking

They won’t win

I will loose the binds

I’ll unshackle

I am Salvation

Walk with Me


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He is the helper of my daily unbelief

My hourly falling

The filler of my spirit’s hunger

He fills me with wonder that I couldn’t conjure

He alleviates the poverty of the street rat that is my heart

I wander around and search for answers

I scramble for control

I’m desperate to know I’m right

Desperate to know I’ve walked more correctly

As though I can assemble hope myself

As though I could die for my own sins

I listen to too many voices

They get cacophonous and I can’t sort them

One tells me I’m wrong

Another tells me I’m right

A third tells me it doesn’t know

And still a fourth tells me I’ve got no time

My mind gets stuck and can’t escape

My heart is clouded by the noise

It’s got trouble travelling through the fog to Mt. Zion

It has difficulty feeling home

Lord, speak to my thoughts and heart

Let your heartbeat be my own

Fill me with wonder and love and hope

Speak to me above the noise


Stability and protection are fitting for Him

As are love and hope and peace

Because He pours Himself out on broken pieces

And quenches a parched, cracked land

Though your pain is deeply felt

Find His song of joy

Our salvation is here

To hold and to share

And in graceless days

It gives power to rejoice.

Reverse Culture Shock.


India Baby, you’ve still got my head reeling

Can’t you tell that I’m still hearing Sarah-Rose’s guitar

And her voice chiming three languages?

Did you think I would stop hearing my babies?

Lady, they’re still  in my ears, resounding


India Honey, you got my heart pounding

Your monsoon winds took my soul

They shook me up and didn’t set me down

Your monsoon tears washed me clean

Lady, I miss your embracing, placid arms.


Lovely India, You were just like a dream

Here one day and gone the next

Look at me now, Love. Just look at me now.

I’m instant photos and hospitals older

But your youthful colors tease me still

Lady, you weren’t reality, but I love you all the same.

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These ears

They’re not blind

They smell the poverty around them.

They taste the hunger

And feel the need


These Eyes

Oh! These eyes have never been deaf

To that most distinct scent

Of hurt and loss

And hopelessness


My senses aren’t numb

To the world’s great lack

I possess awareness

Of what I have

And others don’t


More than anything, I long to be here:

I long with all my heart to be in all these places, but I know that more than all of that, I want to be where God wants me to be. I don’t know where I will end up, but I do know this.

I am to radiate, to reflect, to spread God’s beautiful light as He refines my heart.

The world in all its fragility

I wish the world weren’t so fragile

I wish it wasn’t so broken.

I wish we could find a way to glue it

But I know that my wish’ll never come true

We’re too fallen

Too broken

To make sense of the mess

That we’ve all created

I suppose the only thing left

The only thing left to lean on

The only thing we can hold on to

The only thing that might help

The only thing is love.





All they do

Is spew

Straight from my mouth

Then they travel south

To speak to the floor

Which finds them a bore

I know full well that you hear

But you don’t see my tears

Leaving these streaks — Glistening

Because I know you’re not listening

What purpose can I serve now?

I can see that the soil’s unfit to plow

And all the words I express

Are words — no more, no less

I suppose my words hold no weight

Little matter holds my side of the debate

Won’t you stop shooting me down

To me you listen the way you would a clown

All my




To you are of little meaning

So you don’t see my intervening

As the slightest bit useful

Friend, I’m only being truthful

Fine. Take your secret to the grave

I will no longer try to save

What’s never been mine

Watch me resign

All the words I’ll ever say


I was away for the weekend. I took a trip to Greenville, South Carolina. If you want to see a diverse city, I say you should visit Greenville. Anyways… I did a lot of thinking while I led 25 children around a huge room, while I jumped up and down on stage and while I presented a clipboard to parents for the sign-in/sign-out process.

The expression of my thoughts came out a little something like this:


How much I hate

At this present time

The person I am

The thing I’ve become

So calloused

So bitter

And cruel

So distant

So empty

So dry

I feel fake

Like it’s all just a show

I put up on the stage

For everyone to see

With all my lines scripted

I’m being worn down

I’m just getting so tired.


With potting soil on my hands


Take my brokenness

Turn it into beauty

I know I’m no artist

I can’t paint like you

I can’t blend colors like you



You see,

My heart is like my feet

They’re calloused

They’re rough

And I don’t want to soften them

For fear of felling pain.




Oh, please conquer my scars

But let me not forget

Help me always remember

What they mean

And how You love them.