From Creation

The True Light’s illumination
shines brightly on creation
from creation.
To see,
we have only to open our eyes.

The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.

-John 1:9

Easter Poem

Upon the cross
my Savor died
bearing all my sin,
He gave his life
that I might live
I am born again.

His battered form
taken down
was buried in the tomb,
the life of Christ
freely given
led to Satan’s doom.

Three days hence
he rose again
defeating sin and death,
now joined with him
I’ll never die
filled with the Spirit’s breath.

One day soon
he’ll come again
righting every wrong,
and bring us home
to live with him
and join in heaven’s song.


As I walk alone
frozen crystals sting my cheeks
mingling with hot tears.
Ashamed, I ponder my sin.
How often have I responded with
denial like Peter?
fear like Mark?
betrayal like Judas?

I look up and see the cross
where Christ hung alone
his Father’s cold shoulder
mingled with hot blood
spilled from his hands, his brow, his side.

My sin
Christ’s love
intermingled at Calvary.
His willing sacrifice
poured out for me
so that by his death
I might live.

At First Light

From Soil of the Divine.

Birds at first light
tune their voices
offering melodious praise,
not one holding back.

They loudly welcome the dawn,
in awe of God’s handiwork.

“‘Tis just instinct,”
you say,
animal behavior.
Nothing more.”

But perhaps
they do not suppress
their instinct to worship
in the same way
that so many people do.

The meadows clothe themselves with flocks,
The valleys deck themselves with grain,
They shout and sing together for joy.
-Psalm 65:13

Anatomy of a Panic Attack

My mind races
ten million places
thoughts scattered
world shattered
ragged breath
fear of death
restless nights
constant fright
living dread
fuzzy head
reluctant choice
shaky voice
craving peace
and stress to cease.


Stretching ever heavenward
arms raised in constant praise
reaching toward the sun
life’s storms strengthen
roots, trunk, branches
growing ever stronger
it’s sufferings make it solid
it’s life a ministry
to all who come to know it.


Wordless, I come
unsure what to say
eloquence silenced.

I listen for your words
and what I hear is your groaning,
interceding on my behalf.

Who says that prayer
must be impressive speech?

It is not a silver-tongue
but a broken spirit
which best captures
the heart of God.

Shadowed Valley

From Soil of the Divine

Cold, I sit
in a shadowed valley
light blocked
by my shame
and another’s treachery,
multiplying darkness.

I wait.

The beams of Your mercy
break the darkness,
the warmth of Your steadfast love
drives away the cold.

Lord, make me a torch bearer
bringing Your light
to a world
still shrouded
in shadow.

Make me to know Your ways, O LORDteach me Your paths.--Psalm 25:4

Be Still

From Soil of the Divine

When all around me is shaking,
and I can barely stand;
God remains unmoving,
He takes my hand in hand.

I often live in fear,
of what people think and say;
I grant them so much power,
o’er my thought life every day.

But God is in my midst,
unmoving Rock of power;
His love is never ceasing,
omnipotent tower.

The world around is raging,
my heart joins in the throng;
the Spirit whispers “be still, My son,
and I’ll right every wrong.”

Be still, and know that I am God.
-Psalm 46:10

Blog at

Up ↑