Wednesday, April 11, 2018


Now I see why Lucifer, without difficulty, lures us to sleep while our believing brothers and sisters are slaughtered like sheep. 

It’s so much easier to have Christian songs play on repeat than to worry ourselves with the innocent blood being spilled in the street. 

Now I see why we stay like babies drinking only milk while entire generations lose destiny as they’re killed. 

It’s so much easier to sleep on sheets of silk than to enter His heart and have to feel. 

Now I see why we dance in circles with our sin.
Sin. Repent. Sin. Repent. Sin. We never conquer ourselves. 
We never win. 

It’s so much easier to cry when we feel His forgiving river again and again wash us clean than it is to weep and wail for a nation of people who know no God who could do such a thing. 

Now I see why we stay in the ring to fight our iniquities and repeatedly get outdone, and we are haunted by these sin cycles like shadows every time we step into the sun. 

It’s so much easier to face our own demons than to war against a nation’s principality of legions. 

Now I see why Satan, without challenge, leads us into the endless pit of self while we neatly organize the horrific truth of Hell on the shelf. 

It’s so much easier to fall asleep in our own salvation than to lay down our lives to prevent their damnation. 

Now I see why we convince ourselves that the label of Christianity is enough while they are starved and we are stuffed. 

Bibles with many covers of many colors filled with words we will never do. This is so much easier than me giving my life for you! So much easier than sacrificing my plate of food. 

Don’t throw stones! It’s time for groans, and it’s time for conviction. 
It’s time to pick up your cross and forsake your religion. 

I know. Your life for theirs. It’s not fair. I see.
But Jesus did the unfair for you and me. 
He denied the way of the Pharisee. 

I know. This meat is hard to chew, but trust the God in me. It’s good for you. 

Find your altar. Find your floor.
Find your battle and wage war. 

Our God. He is the One who hears cries and answers. Lay down your hamburger and fries and lift up your standard. 

This River of Living Water is reserved for Son and Daughter. 
Put down your pen, and let God be the Author.

Then, you can walk in the footsteps of the Man you talk so much about. 
Then, the world will hear your preaching when you never open your mouth. 

Lay down your life. Pick up your cross.
Become His bride. Stop grieving your cost. 

Then, you will share in His heart and Lucifer’s schemes against your passion, you’ll rip apart. 
Then, you will produce His fruit and strike with an axe Satan’s root.

You will no longer be Sleeping Beauty dead to Life. You will become the light of this world. Your new signature:
The Beloved’s Wife. 

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Dear Complacency.


I know your relation to counterfeit comfort, and I know you speak in whispers. 
I know you rub passion raw, and I know how you leave blisters. 

I know you approach with ease and caution, and I know you're on a mission.
I know you enjoy sleeping to death, and I know how you steal vision. 

I know how you encourage paved roads, and I know how you lead the masses.
I know you are a liar, and I know you turn fire to ashes. 

I know you linger in deserts, and I know you love dry places.
I know you like cold hearts in the chest, and I know you love dead faces.

I know you hide in self satisfaction, and I know you hide in entertainment.
I know you hide in inner pride, and I know you live for containment. 

I know you celebrate the possible, and I know you flee from faith. 
I know you've longed to consume me, but I know you made a mistake. 

I know you. You don't know me like you think you do. 
You plot in silence, and you work hard. I do too. 

I know you. I know you wish to drain the blood from my veins. 
I know you. I have watched you manufacture comfortable chains. 

I know you. I have watched you slaughter dreams on the altar of mediocrity. 
The galaxies swim in my soul, and their fireworks are going off in me. 

The gold in me will never be found spilled at your altar. 
I don't belong in your sanctuary. Haven't you heard what they call me? Daughter. 

Your hands made of ice will melt under my flame.
Know your territory. Know your limits. Know my name. 


I won't entertain you, quiet killer.
In me is a child in need of God, The Father. You won't steal her. 

I won't kiss the lips of comfort. It's death.
Like a silent leak, you would drain me until nothing is left. 

So, as you tuck people into the grave with your eyes wide awake,
know that I have turned my back on you. Your embrace I forsake. 

I choose the fire of my God that refines gold. 

May it blister me as He whispers to me mysteries untold.


Don't invite me. The answer is no. 

Monday, April 17, 2017

Roses, Thorns, and Angels with Horns.

It's easy to call that fully open and delicate rose beautiful when you haven't been cut by its thorns. 
That transparent sky is a beauty too until it blackens, swells and mourns. 

Those galaxies are fascinating to examine with your naked eye.
Lovely to behold but never to touch. If you could stretch so far, you'd die. 

The chaos raging in those galaxies would rip all of your breath out of your chest. 
How lovely the wine! But not the grape that has been stomped and pressed. 

Every beautiful beholding has come through an immeasurably great price. 
The salvation of a human soul in exchange for a Holy God's life. 

To experience the freedom of forgiveness like a flood. 
To realize those redeeming waters that wash you consist of innocent Blood. 

It's easy to call that fully open and delicate rose beautiful when you haven't been cut by its thorns. 
It's easy to believe in angels, but hard to believe in the ones that grew horns. 

You call my mind beautiful. Consider that it has been pricked and that it bleeds. 
You see my great strengths. Consider that I have great needs. 

You see this humble man and great King and you desire to be like Him.
Just don't forget He left His Kingdom to die and become sin. 

You marvel at the ocean and its unsearchable depth.
Just don't forget that those waters fill cavities on this earth where bottoms can't be met. 

You're in awe of the stars as they dance and burn for you. 
Just don't forget the chaos, the violence and fury they exist through. 

It's easy to call that fully open and delicate rose beautiful when you haven't been cut by its thorns. 
How desirable is a covenant, but who sees the turmoil to fight for oaths that have been sworn?

You see His glory in my life. You see power and you see light. 
Don't be fooled to believe such things come without a violent, private fight. 

To everything there is a season and to every season there is a purpose.
If your stem is rigid and you see thorns growing, don't be nervous.

Your bloom is on the rise. Your petals are coming.
You may hear the wolves howling in the night, but tomorrow the birds will be humming. 

You saw him cross the finish line, but you never tasted his sweat.
You watched her conquer her demons, but those demons you've never met. 

You see the sun but you've never asked it about its violence and rage.
You wait for its warmth, but you're oh so far from the blaze. 

You see the moon but you've never asked it how it feels to be the lesser light.
You see the beauty of one who has surrendered to another's might. 

It's easy to call that fully open and delicate rose beautiful when you haven't been cut by its thorns. 
It's easy to desire to be the King until you're the one everyone scorns. 

Every beautiful beholding comes with thorns and fights and pains.
This is why you must see beauty in your own battles and shames. 

Your thorns cut, but all beautiful things were designed with weapons.
The brightest butterfly is filled with poison for any predator that threatens. 

Don't hate your struggle. Don't hate the song your life is working to compose. 
Don't hate your thorns. With them, you're a beautiful rose to behold. 

Roses are red. Bruises turn blue. 
God has said, "To death, I love you." 

Ceilings and Walls

I lay here and, like a crazy person, I stare at this ceiling. 
I hate it! I hate everything it represents! Limit setting and destiny stealing. 

It pretends to keep me safe from the storms and the rain.
But what can it do for the hurricane in my soul? It can never protect me from life's turmoil! This pain! 

It tells me I'm small, I'm insignificant and most assuredly, I'm insane. 
It tells me about all the boxes, boundaries and borders in my brain. 

My eyes move and my disdain grows as I stare at these walls.
We stay safe inside these toy boxes like G.I. Joes and Barbie Dolls. 

They send me silent messages, and they tell me so many lies.
They tell me I'll be here forever, boxed in, until my heart dies. 

Where are all the roses? Where's the priest? Because I'm in a casket.
This life with walls and ceilings... Dead Man, you can have it. 

Where's the rest? Where's the peace? 
Because I'm laying in a grave.
Serving these walls and ceilings... Dead Man, you can be their slave. 

I clench my teeth. Tears sting. My jaw is stern.
Through me, these ceilings and walls have a lesson to learn. 

You can't persuade everyone. You can't get into every head. 
Not everyone is going to sleep in the bed of complacency until their dead! 

NOT ME! Call the doctor! I've lost it. Yeah, I'm finally free.
I've lost your lies. I've lost your threats. I've lost all your seeds. 

I know. You worked hard to sow. But with all my might, I let go. 
This ceiling is far too low, and these walls move far too slow. 

I can't succumb to these ceilings and walls. 
I'm not made of plastic like Barbie Dolls. 

There's blood in my veins, and it's boiling hot!
It triggers my brain and reminds me what you're not.

You're not my friend, and you're not my forever.
You're not my standard, and you're not my never. 

You don't set my limits. You are not my end.
You can't keep me kept. We'll never blend. 

I won't be drugged or hypnotized. 
I won't be numbed or desensitized. 

Dead Man, you can keep this silence, this space, and these ceilings and walls. 
I'm too alive for this bondage. I choose the prison of Paul. 

Dead Man, you can have this safety, this protection, and this covering. 
My lungs have too much air for all of that smothering. 

I'm out. I gotta go. I'm leaving you behind. 
I'm out growing and out living these ceilings and walls in my mind. 

It's time for me to taste the sky you kept me from seeing.
It's time for me to encounter the life you've kept me fleeing. 

Ceiling and Walls, just promise me one thing of our time together.
Hold my story in your paint, and forget me never.

When another radical who is boxed in stares at you and hopes for more.

They'll see my story in your paint, and they'll run for the door. 

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Goblins and Hobbits

These lies are raging, and I'm caving. 
Masters of caging are preventing my saving.

I'm drowning as I'm downing your threats.
You goblins and hobbits make bets. 

Who can fake out and take out this warrior with a sword of fire?
Who can rake out her hope and pull the electricity from the wire?

They have me tied behind these iron bars, lock and key.
I'm starting to believe they can lock up this lion in me. 

My voice is raspy. I'm gasping. No room for a roar. 
They strap me. They're happy. Where's my courage? I have no more. 

Worms in my brain, they seek to tame me.
Liars that set fires, and they blame me. 

This snake won't give me a break. Do you fear me so?
How much more can I take? I don't know. 

Do you need so many darts in the heart of only one fighter? 
You call so many against me. "Stab her! Pierce her! Bite her!" 

Do you need all of Hell to make me fail? Am I so strong?
Your entire kingdom assigned to make me frail. Have you feared me all along? 

Jezebel, you come to threaten that you'll bring me to my grave. 
Come. Elijah is here hiding in a cave. 

Just remember. God hides what He adores.
I'm a bride, not a whore. The veil over my eyes has been torn.

I see you. You can't cage what won't be bound.
I flee you. You can't find what won't be found. 

You're looking for me inside of that cave.
You're looking for me inside of that grave.

You're looking for me where you left those chains.
You're looking for me where you left my blood stains. 

Look again. I'm not there. Defy the lie. 
Read the book again. The deal's not fair. I'm far too high. 

Remember my Lord? You killed Him and pinned Him to a cross and somehow you still lost?
God, from a virgin's womb, you put in a tomb and still it was you who was doomed! 

In the same way, today, you cannot shake me. 
You've been lying since Eden. You've got so many hearts bleeding, but you still cannot break me. 

I'm flying despite the worms, the chains, the cage, the cave and the grave. 
My wings are weak, but their strong under the winds of my God who is mighty to save. 

You eat at me and you beat at me and you leave me black and blue.
But this seed in me pleads with me and leads me to the Truth. 

I make my decision with strong precision. There is no backing down. 
I choose this mission over the human condition. I put on this wedding gown.

King, You have kept me kept so I'm taking this step. I'm jumping into the unknown.
I'll reach new heights to know new depths. It's done. This seed is sown. 

I'll drag these chains and this cage behind me before I live inside.
Devil, you're trying to kill someone who has already died. 

Like Paul, I have been crucified with Christ.
When Jesus beat you and the tomb, I did too. Now, I have my life. 

These goblins and hobbits with all of Hell can quickly take a seat.
Greater is He that is in me... In Him, I've always got you beat. 

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

"I Will."


I told you I would follow You. I gave You no conditions.
I buried my face in the red letter text. I gave my life to them. No omissions.

I put my feet in your sandals and my vision began to drastically change.
I see a life in which I am not number one. My wants and opinions don't matter. How strange! 

You said, "Follow Me." I said wholeheartedly, "My Love, I will."
But whoever said it would be easy to watch while all of my ambitions are killed?

Whoever said it would be easy, they lied.
The truth is to follow You is to be crucified. 

Now, I kneel here before You, and to all those I love, I give all of my goodbyes.
I kneel here before You, in the face of the unknown, I forfeit my questions and close my eyes.

My body trembles before you. My shirt is soaked with my tears.
On this mountain, I give up my selfishness. I give up my desires. I give up my fears.

Lord, I know some look at me and say, "Wow. She's completely lost her mind."
But, I've only followed You. I've stepped off the cliff of comfort, and I've left it all behind. 

The weight of Eternity resting on the human heart! I find it hard to breathe.
Leaving my whole world behind to step into Yours! Why do I grieve? 

You're breaking me. Look, world! This is what it means to die!
I separate myself from my own dreams. No wonder disciples cry!

Jesus, say "Follow Me" and then turn and walk away.
Look behind You! I'm here. Every night. Every day. 

If you leave like Elijah, I'm running after You!
Tell me to leave like Naomi. No! Where You die, I die. I'm Ruth! 

If you leave and withdraw to the mountain to hide.
Look! Like Moses, I'm climbing up for You. Just let me sit by Your side! 

You said, "Follow Me." I will. I'm not changing my mind.
For You, oh Love of my life, I leave it all behind.

Jade, I've lived for you long enough. It's time to say goodbye.
He said, "Follow Me." I said, "I will." I forfeit all my questions and close my eyes.

I walk into the unknown. You may think I've lost my mind.
I can't worry about that. I've left it all behind. 

Friday, June 24, 2016

Forgive Me.

My knees that have bowed before selfish gods dig into this floor.
My mouth that has cried praises to itself cries selfless cries like it never has before.

My hands that have worked hard against You tremble in your midst.
My eyes that have wandered for worship now rest on You and are fixed.

My head so full of my own ambition hangs so very low.
My back is bent before You screaming of everything I tried to carry on my own.

My eyes are slammed shut, overwhelmed with shame.
My body shakes, this clump of clay to meet with a holy flame.

My breath catches in my throat as I discover you are the very air in my lungs.
My tongue moves to form praise for the One from which all Hope comes.

I am paralyzed here. My quaking hands lifted high.
I know I have been blind and deaf. Nonetheless, oh God, draw nigh.

Repentance, like a breaking dam, pours from my posture.
I have treated my life like it was my book to write. I am my own author.

An ounce of pride is far too much. Destroy it while You are here.
Wash me with fire. Clothe me in white.
Help me see! Help me hear!

An ounce of independence is far too much. Teach me again to trust You.
Oh, Voice On The Wind, come!
Come to my rescue!

How could I go a single day without kissing Your face in prayer?
How could I orchestrate my own life? How could I even dare?

Forgive me, Father. I have been far from you. Not in deed, but in heart.
How did I forget that You are my ending, and You, oh Lord, are my start?

You were my first Love. You will be my last.
You are all of my future.
You hold all of my past.


My eyes open. I am mystified.
My head is lifted, my hands are still, my tears are dried.

Tears swell in my eyes again as I realize You have come and gone.
Only You could leave Hope on a heavy heart that outshines the dawn.

I shake my head from side to side as I marvel at your wonder.
Like a loyal friend, you silently forgave me. Silence from the God of Thunder.

You, Almighty God, visited me in my room.
The Victor over all evil. The One who died and then walked out of the tomb!

A few small moments and You have restored my soul.
A few small moments and like a thief, all of my sin, doubt, shame, and pain You stole.

A few small moments have become larger than life itself.
Because You, oh God, are more than an old dusty book ignored on the shelf.

I am only alive, not my body but my soul, because You live.
Now, teach me to love like you. Teach me, oh God, how to give.

Teach me to forgive in silence and quiet.
Teach me that the wrongdoing of others is no call for a riot.

Teach me to shout of Love, not with my mouth but with my life.
Teach me to be a trustworthy person, a loyal friend, a faithful wife.

Teach me how to walk in strength like lightning but to be as humble as the grave.
Teach me that Love is the most powerful position, mighty enough to save.

God, if it be possible, teach me to be like You.
Maybe I can love people from darkness to light, from blindness to sight too.

Oh God, teach me to be like you.
Oh God, Please do.