If I am completely honest with myself, being obedient to God is the hardest thing ever. You hold onto things hoping God will bless them, but there is always something in the back of your mind tellin you to say no. Then you say, "God, I dont have the strength to say no. Give me strength", knowing you really dont want what you just prayed for. A special friend texted me today and sent me the verses Titus 2:11-14 which say, " For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good." If your having trouble saying no, know that it isn't even in your strength to do it. But it is HIS grace that teaches us to say no. I wrote this poem a few weeks ago , stemmed from feelings about being a young Christian woman trying to stay on the right path and putting mega faith in Him and being obedient to His will in my life.


Untitled
God, I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.
Another day coming another day without sorrow
I wanted you to be what I imagined you to be,
I wanted you to dream the way my dreams dreamed you to be
My love, I love you and I’m always thinking of you
My love I need you and I’m always leaning toward you
But I’ll never fall
Cuz if I fall I know I’m far from the sky
And the ground is my new high
Impatient in running so in patience I’m lugging
One arm on the devil and another on yours, tugging
Heaven couldn’t be more far away
And the songs of the angels come every other day
You kept saying sorry when I held us back
You continued pace when I headed off track
Leave me be I am like the dust of your feet
Back to the ground I return and again we meet

The Valley of Dry Bones

There is the uncomfortable sound of dry bones breaking under feet
Her shaking becomes fierce and both their eyes meet
He sees the fear mounting in her frame
Her eyes begin to roll back and she’s far from sane.
The swift hands catch her fall
He knows these bones, he knows them all.
He asks of her troubles, her worrying stance
She asks, “Have these bones not had a chance to dance?”
He meets her weary eyes and takes in the scene
The graveyard is distorted, certainly kept unclean.
There is no need for theatrical acts,
No need of eerie music or ghost contact.
But where there is darkness there are bones,
Who have found no home and are all alone.
But they do have a voice only He can hear,
And the dust of the earth, He sees clear.
With one breath there is flesh and skin
With one breath, new life begins.
She falls once more, this time in awe
He leans once more, to break her fall.
Into His arms, He carries her away
Away from the valley where dead bones once lay
Her eyes are closed as the first cries of life lift high
In memory of her old burial site.

Bus Drive to Baltimore

Guess which Biblical character inspired this short story:)

A husky voice cleared his voice over the intercom and informed us of our departure. The hum of the large engine started and it soothed the tension as we journeyed towards home. My body started to ease back into its normal state of being as the bus sped past the now blurry mountains. I rested my head on the headrest as I silently rejoiced. I tried not to glance out my side window too much but the corner of my eye always caught a glimpse of the outside. I sat upright and forced my attention towards to the occupants of the vehicle. Most of them were people I knew. It was difficult to not force back a smile as I saw the familiar faces with a certain ease on them. The same look I probably had. We were all traveling back to the place we had grown up and the place where our lives were forever constant. But there was no childlike excitement that would have us on the edge of our seats, constantly questioning our irritated guardians with an exasperated, “Are we there yet?!” No, but there was an eagerness that was occupied by a peaceful being. It was very quiet, which was surprising considering the large number of people on the bus, and the large number of people on the bus who actually knew each other. I looked towards the driver threw his mirror and saw the concentration on his face, and felt a rush of eagerness in the way the bus rolled. I figured he must have been stationed in Baltimore.


I leaned back once more, and almost immediately sat upright once again. A long high squeal from the right of me pierced my ears. I shifted my body angrily towards the horrid noise and I saw the quick movements of a small girl with high bouncing pig tails. Tears streamed down her red cheeks as she screamed, with arms raised and waving in a maniacal position. The woman who I assumed to be her mother looked at me apologetically and proceeded to try and calm the young girl. The screams increased, and so did my irritation. More people on the bus started to get uneasy, and there was an united rustling through the seats. “I WANT TO GO BACK HOME! I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE! BARRY WILL BE ALL ALONE!” screamed the little girl. The vehicle moved up and down as the driver drove over an unleveled road. The girl’s mother rubbed her back and said calmingly, “We have to go back Ruth, don’t you want to see daddy?” Ruth’s cries stifled and her arms relaxed, but she balled up her little fists and curled into a tense position as she stared at the floor. “Problem solved”, I thought to myself. I leaned back once more, this time keeping my eyes locked little Ruth’s face, prepared for any sudden encore outburst. She poked her lip out and looked up towards her mother again. As she spoke once more, her voice was softer and flooded with emotion and even, pity. I leaned in closer out of unexplained curiosity. “I do want to see daddy”, she exclaimed, “But I miss Barry so much, and I promised him I would never go back to Maryland again, not without him.” Her mother chuckled and took Ruth’s small round face into her hands. “Honey, I know you grew to love Barry, but he has to stay back home with his mommy and daddy. Besides, I thought you hated the rain, and you know it rains all the time where Barry lives. If we go back to Baltimore, we only have to deal with it in the spring.” Ruth shook her face out of her mother’s hands placed both hands on her hips. “I don’t care about the rain anymore mommy. Barry has a cool lighting umbrella!” Ruth’s mother laughed once more and shook her head, “I don’t think he has one for you though sweetheart.” Ruth sighed and bowed her head towards the ground again. “But he always let me use his,” she said in a sad tone barely audible. Her mother continued to chuckle silently and repeatedly rubbed her daughters back.


A few moments passed and the bus soon regained its peaceful tranquility. My eyes grew weary as I stared at little Ruth. She softly began singing what had sounded like a made up song about the rain to the tune of the old hymn Amazing Grace. She placed her head on her mother’s lap and I could tell the song was almost over as her eyes drooped in and out of focus. Suddenly, the music stopped, and I decided she had finally gone to sleep. I knew she would get back to her home and see her father and everything would be okay. The sting of leaving her friend Barry would soon leave with the excitement of seeing a familiar place; Her home.



Her eyes were closed, but her fists however, were still balled up. I turned my head towards my window and closed my eyes as well. It was surely true that the place we left had a stormy climate. The uncertainty of the weather was one of the reasons I was so excited to leave. But that had only just come into to my mind, for I had learned to adapt to the constant change in weather. Labor was particularly difficult with the increased amount of rain and waiting every morning in it for a reliable local bus was horrific. There was no telling what would happen. But I had learned to adapt. There were friends, not companions. They were few, but there were good. I had learned how to organize much better than I had before, and I started to plan things out more carefully. But Baltimore was my home, the place I had lived since I was an infant. In the constraints of that city I was safe. My thoughts turned into dreams, and I do not know why my hands also turned into fists.

To Whom it May Concern

Do I use love in vain?
Not only its body, but its perfect name?
I used love as an adjective of the feelings
That had me on my knees kneeling
Crying to the Lord, tears not concealing
And my want for you was submissively revealing.
You taught me real pain
Like the beginning of a hard rain
That never ceases and keeps the slain, slain.
There was never a lust,
Maybe in the beginning but really trust,
That my desire now is to know your heart beat
And to recognize it when it beckons me.
Your eyes are soft and your words are sweet.
It’s like every day is the first time we meet.
The physical distance has never been able to stop
The ticking of my hearts biological clock.
I am only a woman, but my love is tough.
You’re just a man, but are these words even enough?
To make you feel the same
To make you want the same.
It’s like I’m stretching my hand out to no reply
And you’re watching but you can’t seem to comply
Is my love for you in vain?
Is your heart rightly mine to claim?
I am in a period of waiting,
For confirmation, or a bad heart breaking.
Please inquire the presence of the King,
I’m weak in the core and He’s asked me to sing.
Take my place and ask Him for me.
I am too tired and our future I cannot yet see.

The Mute

The Mute

I will speak for the ones who have no voice
The ones who seem mute to us who have a choice.
I will lend my back to the broken many
Who have never climbed to the sky and received plenty.
I will give my food to the ones who hunger
And my drink to the ones who constantly suffer
I will spread my words to the far and near,
Who have bloodied ears but hearts to hear.
Oh earth, hear me your children are dying!
And all of your sons are not complying
They speak of sadness and even begin crying
But there are even tears who play the game of lying.
I will not be idle and shut my heart
When babies face life’s battles from the start.
I will rejoice in the Lord who has given me a voice
To speak to the ones who are mute without choice.

The House of Dolls

That night mare was a night marred.
Black as coal and coal was charred
Leaving hearts so flat and hard
Oblivious to the thing you scarred.
Let you in let your full reign ring
Well my freedom was lost when I heard death sing
Your little puppet, doll or fling
But only to you I knew how to cling
Little girl little girl
Little girl in a big big world
Found the oyster but lost the pearl
Found the beauty but lost the curls.
I was your favorite when you needed fun
Nowhere to hide, I better not run!
How was I to know the color of the sun?
When my house was the very thing it seemed to shun.
Dress me up and make me pretty
Plan my whole day and design my city
Oh on me don’t you take pity
Just control me; your little itty bitty kitty.
Aren’t you glad my mouth glued shut?
That your hands controlled my legs strut
Baby make me anything BUT
You pierced me right inside my gut.
And then. I saw what they called light
Never seen it but knew I was right
Took me away and on new heights
This little doll took an enormous flight.
I’m Sorry for my bad behavior
And for leaving all my plastic neighbors
I am done with all this boxed in labor
Gone to live with my Lord and Savior.

Lost Generation. We are.

Ian Thomas, a Christian speaker once said, "The Lord Jesus died on the cross not just to get you out of Hell and into Heaven. He died upon the cross to get God out of Heaven and into you."
The past few weeks I have been trying to understand what he meant. I was thinking to myself, "Does this mean that every thought and every action I do belongs to Christ?" The answer is yes.
Today's Christianity has tainted the idea of what being a Christian really means. Other religions are rapidly growing because many people believe Christians are hypocrites. It is so frustrating! According to religioustolerance.com, 22% of the world's population is Muslim, and that number is increasing day by day. They are the second largest religion in the world. Did you know that in America, for every 1 male convert to Islam, 4 females convert to Islam? (themodernreligion.com). Recent surveys have concluded that 56% of the people who claim to be Christians don’t read the Bible. Most of us believe that saying the “Sinner’s Prayer” is all we have to do. Getting into heaven is good enough for us, as long as we do not have to follow all the rules. We pick out things in the Bible we want to follow, and ignore the ones that we don’t. To say “I am a Christian” today means little when the character of God is not present. I sometimes lose the Character of God as well. It is a part of who we are as humans who were born into sin. But society continues to tell us it’s “Ok.” Since when is the world’s version of good and evil okay?


You’re not going to like this.


We allow ourselves to indulge in the worlds pleasures, pleasing ourselves more than we please the spirit. Every time I think about this, I think about the verse that says, “Do not quench the Spirit”- (1st Thessalonians 5:19). But we grieve the Holy Spirit all the time. Think about it, is your spirit hungry? Do you find yourself being incomplete in some way, searching for fulfillment in money, clothes, sex, mindless fantasies, relationships, violence, alcohol, or drugs?

Jesus loves you and me. So much.

As a person who has received the beautiful gift of salvation and seen God at work, I don’t want a mediocre Christian life. I want a life of fulfillment and abundant Joy, living for Him. Sometimes we forget why Jesus came to earth. He left His glorious body and home in heaven to live among scoffers, heathens, the sick, and sinners alike. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10). The thief is Satan, the “prince of this world”. You could say that it is the world itself, stealing away truth and joy. But Jesus came so that we could live. Live ABUNDANTLY. His life on earth was a living testimony to how we should live our lives. We walk around with all this pride, exalting ourselves and trying Drakes version of “Successful”. We are forgetting about the people who are lost, hurt, and blind. Blind to their calling and blind to the word of God and truth. We think God owes us something. We deserve eternity in Hell; that’s what we deserve. It sounds harsh, but please hear me out: You are not your own. We need to stop seeking His hand and start seeking His face. Jesus said we were brought with a price, and that price was paid in full that night He died on the Cross for you and me. It should have been us hanging up there, being taunted and mocked by Satan. But it wasn’t.

I hope you can hear my heart in this.


Just a thought.