During worship on Sunday, I had this moment where I felt the presence of God hit so strongly. I almost said something, but held back–how do you verbalize something like that? In my mind’s eye, I could see a giant, navy-blue blanket cover the congregation as so many knelt and prayed…it was like the Holy Spirit was covering us with His love and comfort.

I spent a lot of time this week at church, during the Feast of Tabernacles. There will be more on that later, but for now, I’ll say that spending 8 days straight with any person usually results in a lot of tension and aggravation. You get sick of each other, and I know some personalities get sick of others more readily. We didn’t have any of that, that I could see. Every night was different, and every time we met together, there was the most amazing sense of community and family. It was awesome, and now I can’t wait until next year. Like I said, more on that, later….In the midst of all of this, come Sunday morning, I was so ready to come together with these people; I felt like we had a better understanding of each other, and where our hearts were. Guess what? We’re all on the same page. That’s so ridiculously cool and amazing–we’re united. It will be interesting to see what happens next.

Anyway, Sunday morning worship hit, and I felt such an impact and clear vision in my spirit–I truly felt like God was holding us together in such a loving way.  This poem/prose/whatever came out of that:


We don’t know the day or the hour

But the season of power comes

Like a hurricane to believers and unbelievers alike.

But what one thinks is devastation, another knows is declaration,

And the world changes and what we see revolves around the Son.

What does the blind man see but the darkness?

But we who have accepted Him are blinded by the light,

And we walk in faith

Trusting Him for sight,

Every step a testimony of faith.

And when the blind reach for us,

We’ve walked away, toward the glorious outpouring;

And their hearts are hardened,

And the darkness grows,

And the earth is split in two

While we run onward to the place He’s prepared.

Take the blinders off and march to the rhythm pouring out of Heaven.

Let the revelation become your motivation,

Stepping out of the shadows of destruction,

While the veil is shattered and the truth covers us all….

He is coming….

He is coming…

And we are going Home….


When you’ve spent a week communing with family, outside and under the stars, you learn so much…you learn where you’re from, and most importantly, you learn where you’re headed as a community….Coming together is a beautifully powerful thing. The word “diaspora” literally means, “the dispersion,” and it refers to the scattering of the Jewish people across the earth. As Christians, we’re scattered in a different way, but when we come together, amazing things happen. All of us will be reunited some day.

In getting closer together as a church family, I found my heart often thinking of Heaven as our true Home…how everything before then is a dim reflection of how beautiful and whole Heaven will be. How kind is our God, that He goes to prepare a place for us? How amazing is it, that we should have such a thing to look forward to? And how great is the testimony of each one of His children, that we come out of darkness, into His Light? We gain eternity in our hearts the second we accept Christ as our Savior, and it never leaves.

I get to spend eternity with some pretty amazing people.

I get to spend eternity with a pretty amazing God. 🙂

And so do you.


We Need to Talk.

We need to talk.

I want to talk.

I want to have a conversation without the sensation of alienation,

To speak words that flow like a river without suspense or pretense or nonsense or

Offense to the thoughts that tempt us like distractions to reactions to words

We didn’t mean

Or maybe we did

But who would know

Because who has the time

To just sit



I want to talk.

I want to look someone in the eyes without alibis or denials of a need for more than






The ticking of the clock

I’d like to knock it off of the shelf or send it straight to hell.

The bells that toll the hour are trolls and what I’d really like

Is a good cup of coffee

With a friend

That knows me well enough to know when I’m falling apart but

Laughs at my stupid jokes

Because we all know that laughter is the best

Thing for insanity…

I want to talk.

I’m so tired of feeling like I’m constantly apologizing or capsizing or disguising true intentions

Of verbal apprehensions and the attempts for my redemption…  

So tired of the anxiety; it’s crippling and debilitating but the meds only go so far

And then I’m just left with me

And I’m a mess

But I’ve got prayer for that, right? #Blessed

Because serotonin and dopamine are free and if only I were good enough I’d see that they’re

Out there waiting for me if only I could get enough sleep but I don’t see that happening,

So what I’d really like

Is a good cup of coffee

With a friend

That maybe doesn’t make me talk

But just sits there

And understands that I can’t understand

And tells me I’m going to get through this…

Even when I don’t have the words to say what “this”


I want to talk.

Because maybe if I write it or verbalize it instead of fighting it, in spite of my confusion my delusions will clear up or clear out & I’ll be up from this place where I’m down for the count

On the upside of the bipolar pendulum no one has ever officially told me I’m on

But I wonder.


I need to talk.

But sometimes…

I can’t.



This piece is a departure from the “norm” for me, but it’s where my heart was moved this week with the passing of someone in our church that had an incredible heart for the Lord, & who understood the spiritual significance of the shofar for God’s people. He & his wife have made an eternal impact on our family in ways we never really explained…or for me, in ways I couldn’t explain.  Our hearts are saddened by his death, but our spirits know he has claimed the reward of being in Heaven with Jesus…For Mark…

I’ve never been one

That likes the sound of a call to war

When the shofar blows

I cower and trust

That other people will

Rise up

And fight the battles on my


After all…

I am weak.

I am only one,

But they are many together,

And I stand on the outside

Looking in…

The shofar blows,

Nine, short blasts…TE’RU’AH

And I run to safety,

Covering my ears because I know

It’s a sound of war

And a sound of beckoning,

Calling me higher to the


But I stay in the peaceful places of

Plenty and comfort,

Knowing before I try that

I will fail.

I’m grateful for those that have answered the call…

That rise up on their knees and fight,

But I am not enough,

So I stay in my

Safe Place…

The shofar blows,

And the warrior responds,

Grabbing a shield to match the armor

He already has on,

Because he is prepared to fight

At any moment’s notice.

The shofar blows,

Three, short blasts…SH’VA’RIM

Blind, oblivious to my own regrets…

I pull the blankets over my head,

Hitting the snooze button




Truthfully, annoyed at the


The shofar blows;

A single, long blast…TE’KI’AH GE’DO’LAH

A shepherd, calling His warrior home in Victory…

Home…what a wonderful word…

A sudden realization…I am shaken

The call to war is


A call

To rest….

To trust…

To yield…

The warrior is Home, kneeling at the Feet of the

Captain of the Hosts,

Standing in worship,

Realizing the dream of his heart to be in the


Of the King of Kings…

The son is welcomed home by the Father

With words that echo the deepest wish

That all of His children have:

“Well done,

My good and faithful Servant….”

The shofar blows…

As one soldier lays down his weapons,

I pick them up…

With the sound of the shofar,

I am changed…

I am listening in hope…

It is never too late.

I am only one…

But I can put a thousand to flight…

And we are many together…

The shofar blows…

One loud blastTE’KI’AH

No longer on the outside looking in,

I shake off the blankets and

I stand,

Ready to engage in battle.

No longer satisfied in

The Safe Place…

No longer satisfied with

Covering my ears and trusting in others

To fight

To prepare the Way.

No longer satisfied in the valleys of the place of waiting….

There are mountains to conquer.

The shofar blows

One long blast…TE’KI’AH GE’DO’LAH


And a new journey begins…