And He Hears.

And I cry.

and try to convince myself that I am not alone.
Yet, I listen to the voice pull me further from my home.

I see my reflection and wish a shattered mirror.
I listen to my failures and focus on my error.

I try to hear Him in the wind and the rain;
turn my aching ear to hear His voice again.

I sing the songs, and I know the steps.
I’ve heard the sermons, my boxes are all checked.

But I’m empty and I hear no calming voice
I cover my ears to shut out my noise.

And He hears.

I heard your prayers. I see your tears.
You’ve never once danced alone.
I walked those paths, felt the rocky soil
of that place that you call home.

I’ve been alone, without a friend,
not one to heal my wounds.
I felt the sting of goodbye, the ache of hate,
the glares from across the room.

But, the only difference between you and I,
that piece that blinds your scope,
is the empty tomb I left behind;
the assurance of your eternal hope.

I hold those hands you lift in prayer
while I hold the sky above.
I’m in the wind and storms you feel.
I’m the ever present love.

You’ll never fit within that space.
That world is not your home.
My gift for you is on the path of grace
My Spirit won’t leave you alone.

I ache to show you your home above,
a home meant just for you.
I left this place of perfect love
to offer everyone another view.

I took on pain and guilt,
and carried all the shame.
My heart breaks alongside yours
as I think of every name.

But, I know it hurts.
and I know you’re tired.
I see you try and try.
I won’t walk away, won’t give up, won’t ever say goodbye.

So, lift your head to see the end.
Find your joy along the path.
Pain will come along your way,
but there’s purpose in each task.

I’m with you on your journey.
I’m with you on this road.
I’m in the dance you dance each day,
and I lighten every load.

Your journey doesn’t end there.
Focus on what’s to come.
Your journey ends right here with me,
where the sun never met a horizon.


I have heard your prayer and seen your tears. I will heal you.  ~2 Kings 20:5


An Ecclesiastes Kind of Day

image_367465da-304c-4628-9f86-1ee7bcf26131_1024x1024The last two days have been a struggle for me. I hate that those days come when my faith is weak and the future of humanity appears so grim and life so overwhelming that living it is pointless. I hate those days. But those days do come; thankfully, not too often. If any of you struggle with depression and anxiety, you understand.
The fact is my hope often renews (slow as a snail on gravel) because those days force me to settle into what I know is truth and to seek out comfort from the invisible Creator God of whom I believe. Even if those days include me reminding myself of what I do believe every two minutes, reminding me that I made a decision to believe. I made a commitment to Him and not to self. When you try to emote faith on days like this, sometimes the most comforting way back is to remind yourself of your commitments to follow truth and not your wayward emotions.
This morning as I struggled to understand how the Spirit of the Almighty would lead a person such as me, a doubter, a sinner, a self-loather, I skeptically flipped open my bible. I admit it was an aimless opening. I had no verse in mind and no direction. (Maybe I was testing the Spirit’s presence in my life.) But where the pages fell open was surprising. Ecclesiastes. If you’ve read Ecclesiastes, you’ll wonder how in the world I could gain encouragement from such a book. And yet, there they were, the words I needed to pull me out of this gross emotional self-seeking lie of doubt.
“God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11
This tiny truth woven into my heart is where my pain comes from. It’s like an aching homesickness that never goes away. It’s an ache for justice- for resolution- for a fairness that is clearly missing in the church and in the community around me. I ache for home, for heaven. I ache to see all children loved, to see all church members appreciated, to see all Christians wage a war against evil and not each other, to see God glorified and the bible held as our connection to our God and Savior.
My heart longs for a place that is truly beautiful. My heart knows that it exists and my discomfort here, as painful as it can be at times, is further proof that this earth isn’t home. My attempts to camp here and make it feel comfortable will always be vain attempts to create a home that truly awaits for me…somewhere else.
No church. No friend. No marriage. No child can fill the hole in your heart than only heaven can fill. As beautiful as this earth can be, we haven’t seen the truly beautiful resolution for our lives that He has in store for us. We can’t even see the plan He has nor understand the intricate blueprint he has designed for our paths. Maybe we should stop trying to understand and simply trust in the promise that we indeed have a tomorrow with Him.
Today, I rest in this hope of a future of peace, a beautiful view where all that I see around me finally makes sense and my inadequate attempts to make this earth feel like heaven will vanish in the blink of an eye when I finally see the real deal.