Miracle.

Some call it that and some call it this but as for me, it's indescribable with even the greatest writer to assist. 
Some say it is simply a word. A thing with no evidence ever seen or heard.
Some say it is a thing of old. Nothing but ancient stories to be told. 
On the contrary! It is alive and strong in its demonstration.
It sweeps our world in a beautiful illustration. 
Is it perhaps that some can't see?
Could it be there are those that walk among us blindly?
Eyes squinted, jaw clenched they look for a sign.
"This thing should prove itself one good time."
But prove itself it need not do!
It proves itself daily within you.
You can look, look, look and you may never see.
Because the wonder is in you. One. Two. Three.
The Father, The son and The Spirit dwelling in one.
This is the biggest miracle that can ever be done. 
So search, search, search no more. See things in a light you may have never before. 
Look inside you and you may finally see.
The miracle is in you; one. two. three. 

room.

A year ago today my dad left what we call this earth. 
He traveled at the speed of light to the one who ordained his birth. 
June 4, 2010 the angels took him on the most talked about, mysterious tour.
He started a life in Heaven where Revelation 7:7 says there are 'Tears no more!'
He now sees the same glory as the angels in Isaiah 6:3.
He has found himself among those shouting, "Holy is He!" 
I know he is now experiencing the 'fullness of joy' described in Psalm 16:11.
This truth moves me to the core of my being... My dad is in Heaven! 
Hebrews 13:14 calls it our city to come.
We will go back to the place we originally came from. 
In Acts 6:55, Stephen looked up and saw the glory.
I declare that "Up" is our ultimate story. 
My dad has gone up where Revelation 22:3 says there is no allowance for the curse.
Regrets and guilt have no stage, no platform to rehearse. 
He has gone to that place that Revelation 5:9 says there is room for every tribe. 
He stands on Holy ground where there's no pain, no sorrow, no hate, no racism... Who can describe?! 
He gets to eat from the tree God made for you and me. 
Revelation 2:7 says this tree of life is our eternity. 
He is surrounded by what Job 3:17 calls our rest. 
We have heard the word many times, but I can only imagine that level of 'blessed.'
He is in what 1 Kings 8:30 calls God's dwelling place.
What a beautiful thought! Being in a land where the children can touch the King's face. 
My dad is in a city that was not constructed my man.
This city was formed and shaped by The Almighty God's hand. According to Luke 20:36, he is in The Kingdom of no more death.
In this city, there is an intake of life with every single breath. 
No greater portrait of LOVE can I see than a God painting a home, a life, an existence, a city, a kingdom - an eternity for you and me.
My dad discovered a year ago that Jesus had prepared a place in Heaven for him to live. 
This is the most incredible, indescribable gift that Jesus can give.
And I know this is a true as John 14:2.
The Almighty Father in Heaven has prepared a room for you too. 















Imagine with me your home to be.
Can you see all that I see? 

The Jealous Blood

This blood is a river that knows no age and it knows no race.

This blood is unconcerned with the color displayed on the skin attached to your face.

Regardless, it will crash into you and hold you down.

This red river will rush and your sin, your filth, your shame cannot make one sound.

For when they take a breath to scream of your stains,

the rush of red washes you white until none of it remains.

This force does not take into account the strength displayed in your exterior.

Whether weak or strong, it will surround you and, in its current, pull you nearer.

It sees no sin or sickness in you.

But in its rushing might, it blindly snatches sin and sickness leaving only the new.

The blood has a furiously passionate voice that is shouting only one line.

It cries out loudly with an “I LOVE YOU” that every one person can say, “That love is mine.”

This blood is in no way subject to time.

It is past, present and future – the long and short hand cannot control it with their powers combined.

This strength makes itself unaware of every fault you hold in your heart.

Moving in a graceful force is rinses you clean in every part.

It purposely ignores the blemishes that are screaming out.

It collapses into them with such an indestructible authority that they can’t remember what they were screaming about.

There is so much that it on purpose does not know.

This purposeful lack of knowledge keeps any hindrance from the flow.

What it does know is that it is ragingly jealous for your soul.

Jealously in love, yes, and runs with one ultimate goal.

To wash you clean in a blood red shower.

Turn you white with inconceivable power.

This blood ripped free from the skin of an innocent man.

A man that chose to experience the fury of The Almighty God’s hand.

This blood dripped from His body so many years ago.

But there is a truth within it that every man should know.

This blood does not operate by our natural ways.

It does not get weary, old and faint or come close to the end of its days.

On the contrary, this raging red river, from what I have known, only gets stronger.

Its endurance, perseverance and insistence only lasts longer.

It gets stronger and stronger with every second of every hour.

What keeps it going is you and its desire to wash you in its power.

You are the source that keeps this blood alive.

So my challenge to you today is. Dive. 

Dive into the red that beckons you with force.

Dive into this blood and hold not one ounce, not one moment, not one thought of remorse. 

Dallas Drive

It's so crazy to see the seasons change these trees.
There must be a Director. I'm breathless as the ground meets my knees.
From green to gray and back to green again.
Reminds me of His timeline. Lived. Died. Then, the tomb couldn't hold Him in.
I'm convinced that creation reads the Creator's story like a book.
It's yelling about the existence of The Majestic with every look.
The bare branches remember those three cold days when we thought we were alone.
The rose explains the beauty of the most painful death ever known.
A dim gray comes and hovers in the sky.
Painting a portrait of the heartache our Father experienced when He watched His Son die. 
The colors fade quickly as the cold air sucks it away from the coast.
It remembers how Jesus took His last breath and gave up the ghost.
It remains this way but for a short period of time.
Then, as promised, it comes back. And brighter than before, it shines.
It screams reminding that Jesus did not die like the average man.
He died with the power of resurrection in His hand.
His body went cold only to burn again like a violently in love sun.
Creation remembers how this all begun.
It recalls the agreement between a Son and His Father.
An agreement signed in blood to save every son and every daughter.
The overcast sky clears as the sun penetrates through. The green returns with pride as the flowers bloom.
The bare trees are clothed again.
They remember how naked a sinner is without Him.
So, let the seasons change these trees.
Notice the Director and let the ground meet your knees.
Watch it go from green to gray and back to green again.
Smile as you are told the story of how the tomb could not hold Him in.  

Make Life.

Raise your voice and sing out of tune.
Go outside and throw a piece of your heart at the moon.
Nod your head and tap your foot when a song comes on.
Quit being bashful when you get the chance to sing along!
Talk to God and believe your face shines before Him brighter than the stars.
Write a note and tie it to a balloon and know the message will go beyond mars. 
Give somebody a card for no reason.
Give it everything you've got even if you feel like it's not your season.
Pet your puppy behind the ears and buy them a treat.
Try to give a piece of your heart to every person you meet. 
Close your eyes and tell Heaven, "Hi."
Let someone be mean. Smile at them and pass them by.
Text someone and tell them you love that they exist.
Stop. Look at the sun, the sky, the creation and say, "Can't no other god do this!"
Take someone out and pay for their lunch.
Listen a lot.  Compliment them a bunch. 
Find someone who is in need
and even though you don't have it perfect, refuse greed.
Wave at people when they pass you on a walk or riding their bike.
Get over your biggest fear. Get on the stage and take the mic.
Bake someone cookies just because you can.
Go outside and pick a flower simply to place it someone else's hand. 
Write someone a letter and send it in the mail.
Act like Jesus and make the devil suffer in Hell. 
Put a gift in a bag and hang it on someone's doorknob.
Create a unique piece out of something that was once nothing but a blob.
Smile at every child you ever meet.
Make a masterpiece out of a blank sheet.
Laugh more than you cry.
Do more than you ask why.
Shout more than you yell.
Listen more than you tell.
Smile more than you frown.
Look up more than you look down.
Climb a mountain or a dirt pile at the end of the street.
Don't be such a girl! Get mud on your feet!
Dip your hands in paint and splash it across the planet.
Make this place so colorful, our enemies can't stand it.
Buy something for someone and leave it out for them to find when they wake up.
Don't be so predictable. SHAKE UP!
In a nutshell...
DON'T LET LIFE MAKE YOU. MAKE LIFE.

CREATE

TO CREATE. 
It's the most wonderful, beautiful, powerful and moving way to demonstrate.

Demonstrate the Kingdom that runs like blood in our veins.
Display the constant originality that consistently rains.

Rains like a violent force upon our spirit.
That makes people weak in their knees and shaken in their soul when near it. 

To create is to remember that He took his majestic hand and dug you up from the dirt.
To remind yourself that he breathed into a clump of clay and upon it put a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

To recall that with His imagination He shaped and formed the planet.
Then took the dust from that creation and made people to man it. 

To create is color. Pens, pencils and paint.
To create is personality. The musician, the lawyer, the doctor, the saint.

To create is scooters, motorcycles and cars.
To create is writing, painting, the moon and the stars.

To create is to speak, is to sing, is to dance.
To create is to brand your own personal swag-like stance. 

To create is to dig your hands into the dirt of this life and see worth.
To make wonders of things others just see as the nothings of the earth. 

True creating is seeing what isn't there.
I'm glad God saw me in that dirt while it was so plain and so bare. 

True creating is breathing your life on something that is dead.
Saying something where nothing else has ever been said. 

To create is to remember you have a God that created you.
To truly exist and exist out loud is to be a creator too.

Dreaming is Believing

I dream and I dream and I dream and I dream. It never dies. 

Voices echo in my heart with Heaven's volume. They penetrate the skies.

They pierce the heaviness of the atmosphere and make their way to my soul.

With their words, my doubts, my fears, and my disbeliefs they stole. 

They snatch that doubt from me before it can sink in and become known.

They yank it back before the disease of its negativity makes this house a home.

I hear that cloud of witnesses the Bible talks about forcing me to remember all that I have dreamed.

They are loud in my spirit reminding me of my current status: redeemed. 

Their voices mixed with that of my Heavenly Father is enough for me.

I will dream and dream and dream and dream until I see.

There is nothing stronger than a faith that simply knows.

No evidence. No proof. No guarantee. And yet that faith...it grows. 

I dream with trust.

Dream. It's a must.

Because you know what they say. Or maybe it's just me. With all that I am...

DREAMING IS BELIEVING.