When Will We Get There, My Lord?

The valley…

It’s been long and painful for myself and a good deal of people around me right now. People that I love dearly. Not to sound bleak or depressing, because there are glimpses of light here and there. And I know all of life’s seasons won’t be as trying as this one.

But, damn.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a poem during perhaps my biggest crisis of faith thus far. One day, I’ll be able (and allowed) to share so much more with whoever reads these things, but for now… for now, a glimpse into the desperate recesses of my heart.


A thousand times and then some more, my soul gives out and You carry it across these deserts and through scorched valleys. 

When will we come to water, my Lord?

These glimpses feel like mirages dried up like the dust, and just as the dust forms spinning cones, so my head is a storm. And when the storm comes through, it levels my heart and all of it’s towers. I have more than one  tower of Babel, my Lord. But of course, you know it to be so. 

Sure, I’ve asked You to make it new, but never I imagined it to be such an occasion as this. What a devastation to the actual soul that sits in my bones somewhere between my spirit and my flesh. 

This is far too much to bare, and just like my towers, You know this to be true as well. Which is why You stand waiting for the candle’s flame to die out. For You scoop up the ashes, as black and lifeless as they are, and You carry them with your hands across the land of death and into a new place, a place I’ve not been before. 

When will we get there, my Lord?

If Only.

Thorns // J A T W

If we all truly grasped how depraved and crooked we really are, the internet would be a lot quieter. Kinda like a late night dinner with friends of different walks of life, sharing calmly over a bottle of wine.

But instead, the comment threads have become a zoo cage full of monkeys screeching and throwing their own poo at each other. And that poo is lit on fire, so it burns it’s opponents.

I’ve done it. I’m guilty.

I don’t typically like to use “we” in my posts, because I learned a while back that it’s better to only talk about myself when referencing shittiness. But my goodness gracious, folks. What are we doing to each other?

This week it was the whole Word Vision catastrophe. But honestly, it’s something new each month, each week, even each day that we rip each other new ones over. I have lost count of how many times I’ve seen comments this week that involve words aimed to condemn someone else for not showing “love” like they should….wait. WHAT?

How are we not seeing this schizophrenia?

There’s plenty of people out there that have talked about this before, and in much more intelligible ways. I don’t have data or statistics or snapshots of troll’s comments to show you to help me make my point. I guess I’m just trying to flesh this out and figure out what it is that we have become.

I don’t have any answers at the moment because I’m trying to find them myself. But I do speculate that if we are going to get anywhere, we must start setting the fire-poo down and begin pulling the sleep masks off of our own eyes that keep us from seeing how sick our hearts are. Doing a little bit o’ that each day might change the way we see and respond to each other.


This is nothing new.


I Was Made To…

YouTube Preview Image

This is my dearest friend, Genie Uribe. I say dearest, because we’ve known each other since birth, and I simply cannot imagine a season in my future that she will not be a crucial part of. Anyways, she posted this song on youtube yesterday.

Whether you like the song or not, whether you enjoy female vocals or not, whether you are a Christian or not… the girl can freakin’ sing. That’s not something you can deny Genie, and if you try, you’ll just end up looking like a fool…

…Because Genie was made to sing.

I believe we were all created to point to, make famous of and glorify the one Who created us. And from there, each one of us was created to do one, or two or twenty specific things that accomplish that.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a witness of Jesus Christ in every day life. To be a witness of someone…. you would have to have witnessed something that they’ve done. Haha. So what is it that I have witnessed Christ do/is doing in my own little broken world, and how he is restoring it? How is he nudging me to point to, make famous of and glorify Him?

Well, there are many things I’ve seen Him do. But to stay in the same vein of the topic at hand, He has put people in my path who do what they were made to do. I have friends who sing, paint, talk about comics, record music, read poetry, teach, protect, make whiskey, design, give great hair cuts, tell stories, listen, organize, draw, paint nails artistically, counsel, make people laugh, write children’s books and sci-fi novels, rollerskate (competitively), take pictures, pay attention to the elderly, answer 911 calls, make guitars, exercise (professionally), play with kids, create delicious lattes, make movies, hang with teenagers, build legos, work at orphanages, make soap… and the list could go on. Almost everyone around me, just by living well, restores my soul and pushes me to do the things I was created to do. And while I’m nervous to say that that’s Jesus working in my life (because the internet is scary)…

That’s what I believe.

What were you made to do?