Lifting fog

IMG_0545 The fog is lifting shifting from my heart and away from my soul drifting away, slowly but most definitely the fog is lifting. I was beginning to believe the sum of me was consisting of shadows and darkness, of gloom and carcass, disintegrating into who I once was forever lost in the composites of grief and process. But the fog is lifting. For quite some time I attempted sifting through the broken bits but it felt like twisting and digging and all of the things painful, so I let my heart be and let it sink into Him, clinging without realizing for me, He was clinging.

IMG_0603The fog is lifting but Hope is frightening. Hope and fear cannot coexist and Hope is much more pleasant than fear; fear insists only the feelings achy and stabbing, wringing itself around our hearts persisting, fear. Hope can be intimidating implicating risk and vulnerability; but is it not worth the risk? After interrogating Hope, debating if Hope was debilitating or complicating the heart further, I am slowly but most definitely settling on a decision that Hope is thoroughly liberating. The fog is lifting. My heart seems to be illuminating but only because of Him and the Hope that He brings, the Hope that He offers which I can see in the distance where the fog is lifting clearing and creating a path perpetuating His presence bringing me to my knees, encouraging saturation of Grace. Vulnerable, hesitating, step by step in His direction like a baby learning to walk wobbly and fearful, but trusting it will be worth the permeating risk. One step forward, two steps back but the fog is lifting and I pray, together, we find ourselves drifting closer to Him. He is good, His grace penetrating.

Spoken Word: Jesus's Ministry

Ten Mile Christian Middle School CampLuke 19:10 "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." Luke 15 parables Day 3 - the Ministry and Death of Jesus

These are just the words I spoke last night - it was my favorite night. All about Jesus coming for those we don't expect. He came for the least, the imperfect, the forgotten. He came for those we call outcasts, we deem unworthy, and throw out of our presence because "they are too dirty." Jesus seeks out the dirty and broken and bedraggled. He embraces them. He came for them Think about this question: who in your life is the least? Who do you count unworthy? Who are you throwing stones at? Those, my friends, are the least and the last.

This is geared towards middle school students. Easily my favorite one of the week - and I guess it was theirs too, because many students told me so! Enjoy these words; I wrote this by the power of prayer.

- - -

I see you- always standing against the wall, crossing your fingers, hoping no one will call your name. Wishing to blend in instead of be picked on. To them you are nothing at all: you are so small. You have found calm in withdrawing. You keep to yourself and never would tell a single soul of your living nightmare; others would only laugh reminding you that they really just don't care. The words of your peers sear straight into your heart, steering deeper than anyone knew possible. Their sneers make it clear that their goal is to see you bleed tears. For you are nothing at all: you are so terribly small. The joke of the season seems to be that you have no reason to exist. Theirs scoffs jolt you; another sliding remark you must shake off.

But I see you.

Your parents aren't much better. They have pounded it into your head you'll never amount to anything, not ever. Their neglect screams louder than any forced words, skirting around this reality deepens your hurt, there are scars on your heart, deeply burned. Freedom of any sort lacks. On your back you pack a load of self-hatred, you are shackled in gloom so dark no flower of freedom would dare to bloom. You feel like withering.

Your soul aches, everyone's remarks are tweezers slowly picking at your heart tearing you apart. There will soon truly be nothing. If only you could runaway.. restart.

Your entire being turns to vapor.

You're lost and your lonely, in need of a Savior. Someone to choose you, call you their Beloved. You crave to be sought after and wanted, to no longer be thrust aside, crushed on all sides, hushed especially when you cry.

Oh my soul. You don't go without being seen.

You will be blown away. I have some News for you: from the cross, you are offered amazing grace. The King of Kings has been disgraced, broken and poured out for you. He erases the value they gave, replacing it with His life when He rose from the grave. No longer do you have to be enslaved, on His heart your name is engraved. He came for the last, the least, the forgotten- embracing all who join Him at the bottom. The bedraggled & abused the broken and used: He came for all of you. Claiming you as His own, you no longer need to carry shame. Shame is undone, let your heart burn aflame because this dark world He overcame.

He has chosen to flood you with Love by the shedding of His blood. His blood covers you child, breathe Life through your lungs.

And know: that nothing but by His pure devotion: you are chosen.

the life and death of jesus

Where I'm From

My good friend Haley sent me a message explaining one of her online assignments which was to write a poem as a means of introducing yourself: "Where I'm From." She sent me her first draft and I cried at how beautiful it was! She invited me to do the same.


I am from fields of wheat,

gravel drive ways,

an acre of dust-filled air.

I am from a routine evening prayer,

staring out the second floor window;

sliding down stairs with siblings in slick sleeping bags,

I am curiosity and adventure, beware.

I am from farm animals,

the rooster crows every morning,

the dog barks stranger's warning.

I am from pigs as friends,

llamas as enemies,

chickens as pals;

spending time in the place they nest

was a sacred place, at best.

I am from anxiety, not much rest:

the yellers,

the hurt,

the crying,

the angry,

the beloved hand-me-downs.

A heart shared blankly

and frankly, I am from the dirt.

Dirty faces and fingers,

while the smell of beer lingers,

I am from tactics of manipulation.

I am from a small town with little population

full of people that differ in reputations.

People with money,

many without,

mostly just trying to make it through the drought

of the soul.

I am from swimming pools made of troughs,

old rickety swing sets made of wood,

miles spread out as the "neighborhood,"

a reliable & safe willow tree forever stood.

I am from angry holidays, where peace and joy feel no where near my soul.

I am from forts of tall itchy grass,

bebe guns for helpless Swallows,

sprinklers springing smiles on a hot sunny day.

I am from "school" in a friend's garage,

pulling daddy's long legs off and chasing barefoot boys around the grassy yard,

learning with Spelling Books, always a competition; yearning to win Mrs. Hinkle's positive attention,

pencils tucked behind our ears, desks unknowingly mismatched,

to 16 others I was very attached;

those were the parts of each day that moved by too fast.

Where I'm from, texts are in books and a Cassette Walkman is as technological as I could dream.

I am from rules and guidelines, scrawled lists of chores, do's & donts are black and white, defined by the belt.

I am from red wagons and pink cowgirl boots

a place of unknown destitute,

freedom through adventure was my unending pursuit.

I am from leafy gardens bloooming,

big sky, bursting stars, bright moon,

laughing, sleepless nights spent beneath it all,

us siblings singing a nursery tune.

I am from a small apple orchard,

trapped by a white splintery fence,

pig pens, dog dens, a house for hens,

a place of distinct scents.

I am from bare-foot days,

tough souls, running every which way.

Bike rides down the long narrow farm roads,

stumbling upon empty & abandoned homes,

where games like playing-house begins to flow.

I am from arguments and dark anger,

where hidden brokenness is the anchor;

hammered hardened hearts and pounding loud shouts,

building all sorts of fears and doubts,

confused and frightened,

but Jesus never left me throughout.

However. Truer than all of this, I am from His heart,

where redemption reigns.

I am from His mind of creativity

released from captivity to run into true freedom.

I am from the mighty hand, His palm

sounding my victory gong.

I am from beauty surrounding

His love always abounding.

You will find me resting in the song He has sung,


that is where I am from.


I Believe In You: Easter Sunday

“Our desires it would seemare not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures fooling about with ambition, sex, and drink. Offered to us is joy, infinite, but like children we are ignorant stuck in the mud, making pies in the slum, we cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea we humans are far too easily pleased.” {C.S Lewis quote, adjusted}

If only we would put down our lust and pride and greed.

We choose to be stuck on the sideline, fans of sorts, not fully living sometimes for an entire lifetime. We pace back and forth walking through muck with mud on our feet, we step in the gunk of sin often followed by a careless shrug. Will we ever get unstuck? Settling for the mud-pies before our eyes our faith slowly dies as we sit there and we sigh wallowing in self-pity, ready to say goodbye living a life we secretly despise. Our sins and mistakes tend to terrorize because our faith in Jesus was compromised, paralyzed by the lies that Satan authorized we again choose to settle for things that dissatisfy. It’s a circle of true dismay; a disarray that our own Savior we would betray.

{The Father's heart}: Let loose those things you hold so dear I can diffuse them, do not fear. Your schooling, your job, your career those are things that won’t come near what I have planned for you. Your paycheck, your dreams and goals so clear, put them down and let Me steer.

Let go of your entitlement to pain and hurt, the bitterness that grows will only exert, stealing your joy and revealing  defeat, I invite you to be truly complete. Being complete in Me means letting go of the facade of “entitled”, which actually bridles, and instead put on the title of "My Beloved child."

{Self}: I am often confused with the offer at stake: that I might deny my flesh, down to every last vertebrae? And that would bring me freedom, every single day? It makes no sense to this cultures way, where life is about me no matter what people say.

{Jesus's heart}: You have been walking around a broken world staring at your feet, bound and furled with dirt. May I wipe your feet, cleanse them clean? “Until I wash them, you won’t belong to Me.” {John 13:8} It is an invitation, I’m on my knees I desperately want to remove the debris. Your feet I will scrub, your heart serene, keep your eyes on Me, the life I want to give is yours to see: it’s going to be wild, completely free. Can I be your core identity? I will restore your life unto Me.

Let me lead you into victory, washing misery off your feet. You are being made holy, redeemed through Me.

I am calling you off the sidelines, come and follow, shake loose the mud choose Me today and tomorrow. Recommit the life you once gave surrender your whole heart, I rose to save. Don’t you remember? I conquered the grave!

Believe Me, Beloved Child, in you I believe.


I Believe In You @ Corvallis Church

Rising To The Top.

Do we not all want {real} life?Are we not all on a quest for joy?

To enjoy life to it's max is no ploy, but we must simply learn to relax.

The snares of death seem to surround every waking breath; with every step taken comes the threat of entering, yet another, deep mess.

"Is there no life-giving fountain?" Too many ponder clawing up life's mountain. "Where is the satisfaction people speak of? I work hard, myself I have shoved above all the others, pretending to love my way to 'the top.' My weariness, it never stops even while I stand atop others, the lack of satisfaction is nonstop; am I in a snare, caught?"

And so the trap has you: confused and lost embarrassed and unsure. As your fingers are crossed, another person into the fire you toss, hoping this might bring you to "the top" so many speak of. The top of the chain where you're supposed to be numb to pain only able to gain riches and wealth attained, your attitude is deservedly vain and you obtain the right to drain everyone below you. "Where is the feeling of joy you thought would come from this?" You often ask yourself, "Was there something I missed?"

The crazy thing is we are meant for more. More is found on the floor, bending our knees, seeking 'wealth' from our core, not joining in on this bloody war. There, on the floor, we will be restored to something so much more, exploring life evermore. If we are truly honest, there is no satisfaction in smothering others.

Do we not all want {real} life? Are we not all on a quest for joy? To enjoy life to it's max is no ploy, we must simply learn to relax. Not allowing things like tasks to define us.

I tell you now, "the top" is not where it's at if you're only there to use a bat to flatten those around you. The key to joy is to focus on self less, instead of the way you dress, or anything you posses. The key to {real true} life is not in the ability to impress but is actually in giving thanks through the mess. Success is found in blessing others, in being the blessing not suppressing, but expressing a deep and vulnerable love a love unfailing and unending. A love that is meant for mending, attending to places you've been offended, tending to a soul bending beneath grace depending on the Fountain of life itself. The Fountain that doesn't pretend but instead, thrives in transparency and transcends "success."

Fear of Lord: He we must revere. In sincerely fearing, a severe love will appear. In pure surrender He will, {in us}, inhere. To surrender is to give up all that is dear, all that is near to our heart, we veer towards His cheer carrying His joy as a lavaliere. Success no longer connects to "me" but is recognized and seen in simply being a pure blessing. Instead of living for "me" we must pour our lives out, bending our knees realizing we are drowning in a sea. A sea of grace. In {truly} seeing the grace we find the key to run this race, decreeing nobody unworthy, as simply we are all unworthy. A confusing reality that is full of simplicity. May we replace this mace of shame, embracing this place interlaced with grace, walking in forgiveness selflessly chasing those who feel displaced. If only we would open our eyes to see that the bottom of the chain is where we shall die and then we will rise. Rise with eyes of pure, wise with understanding for sure, seeing every human around us as an opportunity to deny ourself for the best of this community.

Confusing at first: seeing others as better than self. But once you allow it, you'll experience the best kind of wealth.

Inspired by Proverbs 14.

My Heart Forever Drawn.

Oh Jesus,write in my heart a song, etch Your words that say "to You I belong." Let me never think speak or do wrong, for I crave to please you all of my life long. Allow Your grace to run through my veins so strong, never allowing my heart to yawn for I do not want to let my thirst for you suddenly be gone. I want to be your pawn here on this earth pleasing you at dusk since dawn. So here I am knees bent, towards You my heart forever drawn.

Oh These Days of Pain.

Oh these days.I walk around in a haze of struggle craving to please the Lord with all that I say, wanting with all that I am to bring praise to His holy name. These days are filled with pain and joy; a rocky terrain with the sky pouring rain, rain that doesn't destroy but rain that is decoyed as joy.

Oh these days. Often I feel too deeply the pains of others. I let my heart and my mind completely join in with their suffers, allowing compassion to dig roots reaching into the depths of my being disputing for absolutes, that may not even be completely true. A curse it seems to experience such extremes and I frequently wonder, "Is this how I am supposed to be?" Feeling a strangers obvious ache, heartbreak for someone else's mistake; overtaking my heart, tearing it apart, bringing me to my knees calling upon Jesus imparting for this world.

Oh these days. Too often I look past the joys and straight to noise, forgetting to be thankful, to rejoice. I beg for His return which then brings on a burn for all of those lost and in concern, oh how does He discern? So then I ask for more time as we carry their weight of glory praying their stories join His.

Oh these days. I am reminded its real good that I am not in control for I would not know how to unroll history as a whole. Each life is so short and I crave for the souls of many to abort their distorted view of just how to cavort through this life. So often the belief to simply exist insists that we are here to assist no one but our self, to resist all temptation to care, the world tells us to dismiss the enlistment of Jesus' love. Oh so lost are so many but I must not obliterate the Truth that Jesus liberates removing the separate-ness of He and I. I must not forget that He died for my life [and yours] so that I can walk in the assurance of grace, without being denied or terrified. His face is turned towards me embracing my heart chasing me every day distaste is never a thing. For that I am forever grateful which turns my mourning into dancing keeping me deeply faithful. Shameful is no longer allowed, for that I keep my knees bowed praising His name so endowed. He lifts my spirits from the dark cloud reminding me not to fall into the drought.. but also saying "It is good, my child, to feel compassion throughout, because without carrying the weight of their glory you would not be fighting for My story."

O my child.

O my childI love you so. From above the highest of skies to the brightest of sunrises and throughout the silence of night I see you. I watch you as you work so hard to make My scarred Son famous. He was marred in hopes to save all hearts, taking the charge for many.. even you, which you cannot forget. But there is just one thing, for now, we need to address. Do you disregard my words? I warned you, "people will be boastful and proud" which I do not want to allow My salvation is no reward for what you have done so please stop boasting, for who can boast? Not one.

O my child Do you not see? We have been through this before You are to boast for nothing except the cross that Jesus Christ bore. Your arrogance is a disgrace that I crave to erase and completely shatter with My grace. Please do not hide your face. This grace already covers you. The grace that brought you into this place of undeserved privilege. The grace that will replace your flesh's trace with Mine, a pure love so divine.. the grace that embraces all even through the arrogance you display that betrays My sacred praise.

O my child I accept you, completely imperfect even when you think you're near perfect. Correct you, I will, with patience as we slowly do small operations on your heart; you will admire Me again inspired by the humility of those around you. Their love for you will never expire, and I say that with a proud smile.

O my child please note I was proud of you the moment you said "yes" to me I was pleased the day you admitted your heart's mess. You need not strive to please man but instead thrive to be alive, living according to My plan.

O my child I know what is best for you and that is what I yearn for. I want to bless you as you learn to discern how to live this life. At times I will be firm, but that is out of a pure concern, and desire for you to return to the way My creation was purposed to be, which is exactly why I purchased your heart at Calvary.

O my child Your life has been reconciled So arise and go forth forget the lies about needing to prove your worth, do not blind yourself with self-glory but remember that that is My territory. I love you. I love you.

"Choosing to Create Pain in the Hopes to Gain.."

BrokenBroken is this world I call home the only place I've really known. Where my family raised me from child to full grown. Broken and a constant battle pain rattling in my heart as I am pushed off my saddle reminded that on one another they tattle, to me. Each pained and hurt by the other for some reason or another they slander each other, calling me to explain their sides while I sit in the middle, trying not to cry, keeping each of their thoughts about one another inside of me how can I guide them to become unified? I would love to continue to provide a safe place for them to confide but if I am honest, I am merely a human whose heart is being pried.

Dear ones, Your hearts are so precious & as you slander it depresses me. I won't even pretend to imagine the bend the Father's heart is in, bringing Him grief as you allow the thief to steal any love that was once there, or so I believe.

I love them each deeper than my words will ever reach but their various needs, I simply cannot meet.

Human am I fickle & weak, while their anger towards each other is all they choose to see. Who is to blame for this and for that while we're at it, let's throw names with a spikey bat. Choosing to create pain in the hopes to gain, but really if we're honest we're throwing our own hearts in front of a freight train. Insane it all feels spinning my heart's wheels as the night spirals into disdain. The rain of their anger feels like hail upon my back simply knowing that their own flesh they're trying to attack.

Broken Broken is this earth where sin was let in bringing death to spread to everyone, for everyone sinned. Through this sin many more were bore only to allow the One who adores to pour an abundance of grace galore. Grace Jesus' grace is sufficient for you & for me my deepest most desire is for you to see you do not need to be under this curse, but you can be set free. Freedom is beautiful, I promise you that you become usable in this spiritual combat. Grace will save you every day but it was bought with a price we should have each paid. I crave for you to know this I yearn for your freedom I'll do my best to show you all the while my love deepens. Although deep love brings deep aches it is worth the heartbreak for the sake of possibly watching you be remade. Oh the beauty of that day when you hand over your heart, your mind, your soul For that precisely, I'll continue to pray. Saved by faith and nothing more it's all too simple, for your salvation I will implore. To be restored and completely set free, is so much richer than what you think you want to be your pursuits in this world will only create debris I plea for you to see: His design is perfect & whole.. stop filling those holes with the lust of this world: control. A goal is to boldly tell you all these things but I'm waiting on perfect timing from my King. While I wait I will pray and and I will sing "Glory to God, the king of all kings."


A Girl Healing from Divorce.

I want to be happy for you.But honestly, I feel so grimy. I want my smiles to be genuine, But blimey hell, it feels so slimy.

Seeing you with her is no natural thing. Bringing me an awkward ping straight through my heart A true sting. At first I would have sworn it just a fling. But the way you cling to her rings something else, as though you've made her as part of yourself. Which, I know you have.

It hurts to see you flirt with someone other than my mother, whom you were never even alert. Painful, as you talk about half of my family as though they are dirt. I love them. Exerting ill feelings towards people you once called family I divert my eyes, trying to hide the deep hurt. When you name-call "them" what you do not realize, is that part of "them," I proudly am.

You never held the one you should have. You never caressed her with love. Instead you cursed and you yelled, outside love was shoved. You left for days as we suffered your hell, breaking things but mostly our hearts. Do you care that our family has fallen apart?

I thought I got used to the brokenness. But as I see you with her, I once again, in my heart feel the atrociousness that divorce has to offer. You were her (ex)husband's friend She was my mother's... & somehow I must let my heart amend, I must not feel the need to defend what once was...but now never will be. Oh the pain it is to think of what I now see..

Someone who, in a sense, helped raise me she watched me grow, babysat me, it feels like the lowest of blows. There are a million different women... and somehow you chose the one who would cause our hearts' such division. Double dates you once had before both commitments of marriage went bad. I just can't wrap my mind around being glad..

Asking me questions that are not fair, when answering in Truth I would not dare. In front of others, I was forced to lie, because as I started to tell the truth, I saw the stare in your eye. How uncomfortable is that? How unloving too? Grace makes no sense and I'm called to offer it to you. It hurts. It downright hurts. Being selfless & true denying my flesh for the One I pursue.

The hard thing is, I know you're broken. I know you're lost & confused. And that hurts me deep too. I feel bipolar, wishing you the best & praying for your soul, while my heart is at test, raging for peace & rest. Dressed in a smile, my truest hearts cry is that you would be blessed.

I'm pained and I'm broken it has happened again My hearts cry cannot be spoken as I feel completely broken. I am at loss while I toss around what has become.

To say the least, it was uncomfortable to have her talk about our past as tho it were unsufferable. As though she was someone she was not, attempting to reminisce on memories shot. Suddenly you see someone as lovable, Why did it take so long? It now feels completely wrong.

Invite her into my home, I will. But only because of The Lord Jesus who loves us still.

As I walk around the dark night the sky is lit bright by stars so beautiful. God's lights. Trying to process what is happening my tears flow from a heart of maddening to saddening. Imagining the future, near and far, I know that, as always, Jesus will heal the soon to be scars. As bizarre as it is and always will be, I must look forward, and see the Victory. I must look up, and be reminded of Calvary. Eventually, I will be held so delicately in the arms of my Father so true; And oh, will my heart be completely soothed.

Hope is what I stand on. Grace is what I walk in. Jesus holds my heart within. Hope allows a narrow scope to see the rope that Jesus offers; Hope helps me cope while I let God form me on this earth, giving me my only worth since the day of my birth all the while He nurses my nerves, my heart on the days of worst, reminding me of the love I do not deserve, But in it I am completely immersed.

Psalm 62

Quietly I waitbefore my great God there, victory generates as I allow Him to permeate my heart. He alone is my rock and salvation separation from Him leads my soul into starvation, for He is my fortress, where I will never be shaken. Oh Lord my God would you dip my heart into your saturation? It is your creation.

Let my entire being all that I am, pause before You, as you restore your creation, pouring out love unfailing for my hope is in You alone. Alone You are on the throne as my foundation my only salvation, my sacred citadel where Your love excels. My victory and honor come from God alone and this has been made known when my sins He atoned.

O my people, trust in Him at all times. Pour out your heart to Him, for God is our place to hide.

Psalm 62.

"I AM"

"I AM loveI AM grace. I am joy, the One who has placed before you a race, as I chase after you with arms craving to embrace you."

"I AM your Creator. I made you with perfection just as you are, yet I see self-rejection your dislike toward your body which breaks My heart for you are a reflection of ME. To cast rejection upon yourself is to project it in My direction as well."

"I AM your Friend. Your personal Comforter, the One who will mend, defend, and extend unending love. On Me and Me alone, you can depend. I will not forsake you. Only will I remake you but always for the better. In many ways, you will break but I will be there as your Begetter, comforting you in ways I made you to be comforted. For only I truly know your heart's lullaby. I AM your Friend more than you can comprehend."

"I AM the One you betray. As you go along through your day claiming a display, carrying My name, you bring dishonor to Me, shame. You curse those around you, leading strangers further astray. You choose to disobey creating in Me a deep dismay. On My heart your soul weighs: you are neither hot nor cold, yet just as I have said before out of My mouth I will spit you and from there you will not be restored. Do not forget this Truth: your life is but a vapor."

"I AM the man who stands at your Father's right hand, the man who was scorned wearing a crown of thorns as my Father above mourned. This was the plan since I had been born."

"I AM everlasting casting an invitation into the best eternity without limitation. I can restore any situation which results in a beautiful exultation. Come away with Me get up off your knees & venture with Me oversea and through the trees. I will show you grace embellished as I embrace you with cherished love. Come away today, never to decay.. for into a new creation you are being made."


FinallyI am shedding the shell that has clung to my soul all too well. Farewell to you, unwanted layer of pride.

The layers are deep but I have the Slayer of all sin who is committed to making me clean.

No longer do I feel the obligation to meet everyone's needs upon immediate observation; the realization hit me hard when I concluded that my heart was becoming charred. I was selfish in taking no regard to the fact that I cannot meet everyone's need. The urgency of friendship, indeed is important and essential, yes. But to expect myself to befriend all is completely mental. I was not made to stretch my heart so thin that I become resentful. No, my Creator has plans for my heart and I was getting in the way, tearing it apart. Yes, I am to love all. As a Christian, that is my call. But to view myself as the one to crawl through this city, joining every single committee, lending myself as the ultimate assistant, is severely unhealthy. It is mere pride, clearly.

I now can see that the people of utmost beauty are those who are gentle and quiet, the ones who are not constantly making a riot. So I pray for a Spirit, character of such that I would be able to touch the lives of many, for His glory, not mine, through gentle love, quiet & divine. To trust my God accept His authority and know in my heart that His people are His priority. That it is His role to do the redeeming & through the people He is deeming. I crave to be purely reverent before my King, so that through me He may restore a score of stings. But only if He chooses to use me: no more of this forced jubilee. I must learn to be honest with myself just as I promised to be honest to others; for if I cannot be authentic to myself or my God, how can I expect to be honest to my brothers? Oh, to uncover this mystery! This mystery of dishonesty towards self.. but trust me, people, we can have victory! "Overwhelming victory through Christ is ours" if we are willing to let Christ empower.

- - - - - - -

It is freeing to learn that until it is my turn, I am not called to burn my heart by running without concern, until the Lord Himself affirms "yes, go." It is prideful to assume I must be one to help all, consuming a monsoon. I was growing immune to humility, carrying this inability to say "no," and ultimately cultivating a heart of instability.

I have no choice but to rely on my God not myself, to deny the voice of my flesh and compose a noise of rejoicing to the King, who will enjoy such praise. Such reliance, as I gain Him as my alliance oh there will be triumph! To be a team on a mission rather than oneself running on selfish ambition, the condition of my heart is not one of opposition, as my position progresses from resistance to total submission, I note that the disposition of my salvation is based off of Christ's remission.

"Victory Over Pride" for bonfire @ winema

A thorn in your sidemy rights as a human denied, I cry because you so easily throw me aside. I have decided to believe I am worth nothing, just as you have implied.

To your life I am an ongoing hassle while I wallow here, in my sorrow filled castle.

Anytime I speak all I hear is critique making my knees so weak my heart is becoming bleak.

Genetically pathetic I was born into this mess told I am nothing less than anything you possess. as I obsess and repress over this depressing mess I wallow in self pity creating my own selfish city. Letting the world tell me Just who I was going to be: My very own enemy.

A compliment never accepted a favor never requested Rejection I always expected.

As I look back, I see: I lived as though the Son never resurrected I acted as though my life was unaffected Because I saw myself as completely wretched. Saying that everyone could have a whole heart thru Him, But mine was to remain dissected.

Prideful is that to act like I am a thorn to everyone born, to see myself as such a big deal reveals my view of self as unreal.. Bubbling with pride I craved to think outside of myself. I once relied on my own pitiful being but now I am seeing I am a daughter of the King. And without him I am nothing. Oh how freeing.

To depend on Someone greater than I who made the stars, the sun, the great blue sky. I now can accept a well-meant compliment I now can accept The fact that I am blessed. The difference between then and now, Jesus as the lover of my soul, I do allow.

My identity belongs to Christ For He has paid quite the price.

Your value & mine are defined By a loving Savior so kind, so gentle and true, And this loving Savior is waiting for you.

The ugly thing of pride

To trust in my own abilitiesrather than depend upon the One who made me a mere possibility is complete debility. To think we have the nobility to walk around with invisible crowns & pronounce that we own the ground pride. It creates a spiritual blindness, an attitude of spiritual rightness birthing in us an inherent unknindness while we assume we carry the brightness of the day.. and in reality, we are nothing near righteous.

All our lives we have been taught: our goal is to accomplish and attain anything we want, as long as we put our minds to it, believing in ourselves is where we will find our strength becoming defined. Oh the lies we live by. Bring myself glory as I create a small, unimportant story where the category is "me" and I am failing to see who I really am.

We are frail and we are helpless full of so much selfishness as we strut around with this arrogance subconsciously stating that we are excellent. I am limited and prideful, removed from the reality of my blind fried dried heart.

Shall I decide, once again, to abide in my Father who has supplied all that I am and ever will be? To override my pride and confide in myself that I am a simple human in need of a grace-filled Solution? That the illusion of myself is literally an illusion, and come back to the conclusion that the execution of His Son covers it all and I gave no contribution. No contribution. Without Him I am nothing, not even loving: I am nothing. He loves me as is simply because I am His: pride, you are dismissed.

<I am currently preparing to teach a class on pride and so..I was inspired.>