Let It Go.

I consider all things a loss to knowing (the greatness) of Christ Jesus.

I can’t even keep myself.

The outward things we can do away with; the cars, the homes, the food, even the people. And we remain comfortable. But He didn’t ask only that of us. He asked for all of us.

He asks me to treat my body as the temple of the Lord. He asks my heart into reckless abandon. He wants my hands, my feet, even a prosthetic. And this is all so seemingly difficult to do away with.

We’re torn humans. Hearts after the Divine; it remains our only source of perfect love. And still we want after other things; we want people and their affection. We want to wallow in the agony that death in sin has created. We don’t want to be pushed, for our frailty may make us look a fool.

But what I find in every day is a new freedom beyond this cage the earthly ways have created. Deep within me I long to know a Jesus of pure joy so wide that I can see beyond the other side of me. I long to see the Jesus alive that moves my useless human hands to give back all that was given to me.

Who am I, that grace would be given to me? I live with a Jesus; not a man of sorrow, but a God that has already overcome the world.

Let me know, how You made me free.

…because love wins.

Winter Afternoon.

It seems too deja vu, as the gray captivates me this snowy afternoon. It’s so many things that I can’t say. It’s a whole bunch that I can, but really more than anything, I just want to know love, and act in love. For love, well, it’s the only thing that lingers on. Little boy, I love you very much. We’ll live everything, ok?

…because love wins.

Someone Stole the Silence.

Have you laid to hear the wind blow?
Do you hear the whispers of things unknown?
How long has it been since the rain made you breathe in?
What if you didn’t care if you were here to win?

The sky.
An eye.
The nothing.
The something.

Each one whispers in its own fashion.
If we care to listen, there, we’ll find passion.
For it’s not about fast walking.
It’s about stopping the talking.

What I say I can’t explain.
But I can tell you it’s a quiet that will silence your complaints.
Because it once was a quiet world.
And, the stories of those days have become old.

Someone it seems, stole this precious gift.
Replacing it with clangs, and bangs, and vocal spits.
We’ve forgotten the words of our crafted souls,
Listening instead to fools talk of gold.

But what if we found what has been taken from us?
Would we breathe for a moment; just long enough?
Long enough to remember that we’ve been set free?
Long enough to reach out and touch the life on His tree?

Someone stole the silence.
That oh most perfect gift.
But this thing taken.
Still exists.

So because away you took it.
Ask to have it back.
It is still held.
Still always, it waits.

What was that you say?
You know the way?
Well how do you know?
You heard?


from peace.

Love, hurry, remember as you once did,
to listen again; to marvel at the wind.
Not to clatter, for it is nothing but noise.
For life, instead to the silence that is Wisdom’s voice.

…because love wins.