09.10.2017, 12:48:09

The A-word.

You’ve wiggled your fingers in my direction, a sly grin on your face. You’ve changed shape and form over the last few years, but you’ve always looked exactly like me.

Somewhere along the way, I believed I was no better than you, not worthy of being understood and even asking for help. Unseen, I internalized you as my identity for far too many moments than I’d like to admit.

But I see you for what you are. You aren’t my friend, my comfort or a source of safety. You’re a liar. You are paralyzing fear dripping with disappointment at every corner — lurking around, trying to rob me from what was originally and has always been meant for me.

I was made for community, for love and grace.
I was made for leadership, for creative expression and peace.
I was made for God’s heart, and His home is found in mine.

If naming your demons exposes the darkness to light and invites love back in, I’ll set my mind ablaze, transparent, illuminating the truth of how desperately I need a Saviour to heal the battle wounds I’ve tried so hard to hide. I’ll stand among fluorescent lights, telling the story of how fashioning an image of perfection was a complete waste of my life’s calling to creativity and redemption. If living gloriously small, humbly and always looking for my soul-Lover’s beauty will radically reform a hardened, scar-tissued heart, I will gladly jump in and douse myself in gratitude and grace.

This isn’t a freedom merchandise stand,
here one day, gone the next: this is real life.
This is a war, a constant tug of war– of whose side I choose to believe.

This isn’t an attention-seeking cry or protest.
This is a rally, a yell to echo into the wilderness:
that the captives are not alone– they are warriors, strong and powerful.

I will march around your city walls seven billion times if I need to.
I will be a ragamuffin, claiming victory before your gates even fall,
I will shout joy, dance without restrain and bang the beat of Heaven’s drum.

This soul is God-country,
and you have no place here.

go back where you came from, hell.
anxiety, you have no dominion here.


27.09.2017, 10:12:59

I was made for worship.
The God-kind, not human-kind.
It makes me want to cry with gratefulness:
That I am knit together, woven with so many ways to praise Your name.
So many ways to hear Your heart, to sing it out loud, to paint the skies with Your paintbrush you’ve entrusted to me.
Yeah, You’ve spoken and sung lovely melodies, hundreds of them, over my life.
This moment.


22.09.2017, black notebook

“I know it scares you to think of being a face again, but that’s not what you are: you are the heartbeat.”

“Your vagabond heart is GOOD. I am proud to be found in you.”

“You will tell the generations of my stories to the generations. you will speak My heart into the hearts of many– they will hear My voice through yours. don’t you realize this is from me?! (He’s referring to what He’s saying and how I hesitate to write this aha) … you are a disciple of My voice, My heart, My eyes.”

“In your weakness, you give Me space to be your strength — thank you. thank you thank you.”

“In case you were wondering, I am alive, fully alive and well. In you.”

09.07.2017, 22:38:35

day two.
left, right.
breathe in, out.
fill the 363 rest with grace, peace, truth.
pour, pour over, pour out.
be emptied, be filled.
each day, anew.
oh, twenty-two.


09.07.2017, I found someone else’s words

“God has been telling my lately: you can’t be bitter and love me, you can’t be bitter and love me, you can’t be bitter and love me. You can’t be bitter to those I love, and still say that you love me. And so, I’m having to be stripped of my anger, letting the grip of my pride to be forced away from me. Because my bitterness was poisoning my relationship with God! That’s what it does, it is a disease that ruins us, and slowly kills us from the love that gives us life.

To have Jesus is to have His perfect grace, and to have His perfect grace is to have peace with all those you encounter. I am learning this, because I do love God, and I don’t want to choose between my pride and His endless love. So, I’ll put to death the old me that has decided to crawl back into my life, and I shall rise again with Christ, making only His face known in my life.

Let go of the anger, dear one, and hold onto the Lord.”

– T.B. Laberge. // Go now.