The one where we wait

The chaos is over

The crowds have gone home

The streets are silent

The blood on the road has dried and turned rust colored

His body is lifeless

His spirit is gone

So they sit

And hide

The upper room is the home of their doubts and fears

“What will we do now?

Are we the next ones to die?

How could this have happened?

Was he truly who he said he was?”

The silence is deafening

It presses down with actual weight

The hope of the world



Now what?

We know the end of the story

But maybe, on this day

In between the moment where death seemed to win

And the moment we realized death had lost its power forever

Maybe on this day we should forget we know the end of the story

Put ourselves in the upper room

And wait

Like they waited

Not even knowing what they waited for

Not knowing their answer was just a day away

Their hope was right around the corner

If they had given up on this in between day

If they had walked away

They would have missed the moment of triumph that was coming

A moment that was closer than they could have ever imagined

Let them be a reminder to us when we wait

When our hope seems lost

Let’s not despair

If we listen

Really listen

Not just with our ears but with our spirits

We’ll hear our answer

Do you hear it?

In the oppressive silence

Do you hear it?

The sound of the earth shaking

A stone being rolled away

Gather yourself and run

It’s Sunday Morning my friend

Death where is your sting?

Hope is rising 



The one about March 19 (again)

It’s become a bit of a tradition for me to sit down around my birthday and write some things out. Two years ago the thoughts were a bit sad and messy, but I found true healing in writing them. A year ago the thoughts were happier and more hopeful. (You can check out both here and here). And now we arrive again. Another March 19 has come and gone. And here I sit with thoughts swirling in my head.

On this March 19 what am I thankful for? What do I wish for? What do I look forward to in anticipation?

My wishes and thanks go hand in hand. I am grateful for the little things. The books I’ve loved. The music that has spoken to me. The sound of the waves hitting the sand on the Jersey shore. I am more thankful than ever for my friends and family. For their love. For their support. For their understanding

I am grateful beyond belief for healthy conflict. Yes…really. I used to be afraid of things falling apart. On this March 19 I know more than ever that sometimes things have to fall apart to be made whole and beautiful again. Death and resurrection. Death and resurrection. An endless cycle. Instead of being exhausted by the cycle I’m trying to revel in it. When the darkness of the tomb closes in I remember the light is coming. This is just act one.


From the cold ground life springs forth


I wish. I hope. I pray.

Sometimes I wish for the easiness of days past

But more often, I find myself hoping in the promise of a blessed future.

I pray for the Spirit to hold me close and whisper in my ear when I get tired

“You’ve got this. My power is made perfect in your weakness. Let’s go”

On this March 19th I can still feel myself wondering what comes next. How will I move forward in my career? My relationships? My calling before the Lord?

On this March 19th I remind myself of how I get to what comes next. Grace for the moment. Manna for today. I don’t have the strength for tomorrow because tomorrow isn’t here yet. What is in front of me today?

On this March 19th I resolve to do the thing that is front of me and do it well. I will press on toward the goal and run my race. I see that even now God is doing a new thing. I won’t ask him to take me back to the old and familiar. I’ll trust him and let him stretch me.

On this March 19th I will hold the memories of the past year close to my heart. It was a year of tremendous joy, deepening friendships and memories that will last a lifetime. It was also a year with stress, pain, conflict and memories I wish I could banish from my mind. But, I won’t wish that anymore. Instead, I’ll hold both parts of that year in my spirit and I’ll be thankful for them. They have combined to make me who I am on this March 19th. An eshet chayil. A woman of valor ready to take on what lies ahead with anticipation and hope. We’ve only just begun.

Let’s go 


The one about walls

“….What makes the gospel offensive isn’t who it keeps out, but who it lets in.”

Week three of my re-read of Searching For Sunday with my lifegroup and this quote from the sixth chapter has sucker punched me just as hard as it did the first time I read it last summer. There’s a note scrawled next to it in the margin. Tiny and cramped because I barely had room it reads “boom! Jesus don’t ever let me forget this.” I hardly had time to recover from that bomb of truth when Rachel hit me again with this quote. Continue reading