our Father is a Good Father!

He delights in giving good gifts to His children!
If I ask Him for bread
why would I think He might give me a stone?
If I ask for a fish
why am I afraid He might hand me a snake?

I’ve had enough of small faith!
I’ve seen enough of His goodness
to know that I can expect to see more!
I’ve been held by Him in the dark
so I will trust He will carry me into the light!

Thank you, Abba!

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what are stories made of?

What are stories made of?

Sugar and spice and everything nice

Is that what stories are made of?
Not stories worth the telling.

Intrigue, battles, misunderstandings, suffering, darkness, accusations…

These are the makings of a good story.
Think of the greatest stories – books we are reading decades or centuries after their creators are in the grave. What makes us read and reread them?
Conflict. Hardship.

And the ultimate triumph over them.
Think of the Greatest Story – a Book written over decades and centuries by our Creator. What makes people across cultures and generations turn to it again and again?
Conflict. Hardship.

And the Ultimate Triumph over them.
Each of us has a story.

Will yours be worth the telling?

pushy notifications

good morning, time to check the phone
see what I missed while I was sleeping
doesn’t matter if it’s overcast or sunny
my phone lights up by itself

throughout the day I never worry
I won’t miss out on the social media scene while distracted with life
my friends tag and @mention me
and my phone tells me each time

in the middle of something
phone dings and vibrates too
to make sure I don’t miss any notification
I’ll either hear or feel it

all day

I either hear or feel it
I don’t miss notifications, but I do miss life
phone dinging and vibrating
in the middle of everything

and my phone tells me each time
my friends are stupid or clever
and while I’m distracted with the social media scene, I miss out on life
I worry my days will pass me by

I decide to darken my phone
now I notice the clouds and the sun and…
see what I’ve missed while in a phone-coma
good morning, time to set down the phone

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day

I should have rehung the curtains last week
the sunlight makes it impossible to sleep
impossible to shut out the world and forget
I don’t need the rest – I slept all night –
I need the escape

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day
why can’t the sky reflect the gloominess inside?

the light streams through broken blinds
piercing the darkness in my soul
and making me bleed tears

I bury myself in blankets
but that only lasts a few minutes
the sun is not only light, it is also warmth

what I wouldn’t give for a winter storm
why can’t the weather abet the chill of my icy heart?

I need to get out
I wish it were possible to vacate my head
impossible – so I vacate my bed instead
sullenly, I retrieve and hang the curtains
then, not so sullenly, I wander outside

after the tears {spoken word guest post}

a beautiful spoken word testimony from my dear friend and sister Moriah
many thanks to her for allowing me to share it with my readers
her poetic voice is beautiful and strong and touching
play the video to let her reach out and touch you