//in-between places//

I long to see beyond the barriers

and blockades standing in my way.

Past a wilderness of tangled weeds

and leaf-lost, barren trees

in an ocean of unruly overgrown green.

I can get so caught up with the circumstance or situation standing before me. I see the thorns threatening to pierce and feel myself recoil at the thought of pressing on through the jaggers.

Soon forgetting.

Soon questioning.

Soon doubting.

That the path set before me is a good one.

Even when I don’t see the sunrise from the valley.

Even when I can’t find a foothold on a steep climb.

Even when I stumble along a rocky path.

“Come. Follow me.”

A beckoning carried by breeze,

lingering there

in the remaining leaves rustling.

To walk through and press on.

To push past what’s threatening my perspective.

To catch a glimpse of what’s to come.

And to settle into an undeniable understanding

that He will carry me on.

Even when I’m caught in the middle of where

He is taking me and where I’ve come from.

“He refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk
    through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.”

(Psalm 23:3-4)

He walks with me through the wilderness.

He journeys with me up the mountains.

He carries me through the valleys.

And He is my comfort in every space between.

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//of joy//

They who dwell at the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs. You make the dawn and sunset shout for joy. - Psalm 65:8 During the long and lingering days of dry season, I tend to remain inside with the comfort of a fan. Within the shady covering of our house I am hidden - for fear the suns intense rays will cause me to melt the moment I walk outside. However, the evenings provide some relief and much needed freshness to the air. The world around me begins to cool down ever so slightly. I sling my camera over my shoulder and head out for a quick walk around the wild land surrounding us. I quicken my pace to get to the edge of our garden for a clear view as the sun begins its swift descent from its throne in the sky. The neighboring fields and gardens burned in recent weeks are now spotted with green shoots already pushing up through blackened soil. The trees and dry brush creating a shadowy frame set against a now magical sky. Before me, colors intermingle in a painted mosaic o

//mendings of gold//

From the beginning of time, you knew my name. Like a potter, you molded me into a vessel. Every detail designed in the very being I am. Yet, I find myself now with pieces left broken. I, the formless clay once held in your hand. Your Word, says you heal the brokenhearted - those needing to be made whole. It says you bind up every single wound. So, Mender of all brokenness found in me, I lay mine out before you. You gather all of me up so gently, this body bruised and soul despaired. A mind so worn and and a mind so weary. Tending to every ache and deep hurt, hidden within a heart that weighs so heavy. When my prayers have not been answered in the way or time I think it should. Or when the miraculous healing hasn’t yet come. Let my heart remain steadfast even though my life is becoming undone. I long for you to make me completely new, yet I’m reminded it’s your will, not mine. You take these shattered pieces of clay - And with a golden hue painted between the lines, they are being

Wilderness Writing

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