Monday, July 12, 2010

quiet. hush.
another warrior..
soldier of the Cross..
has just stepped over
into Heaven.

another nail of victory
has been pounded into the
rough-hewn Cross of our
faithful to the end.
endured the shame.
walked the walk. unwavering.

monica went to bed, and
awakened in Heaven.
no more weight struggles.
no more program.
no more diets.
no more brokenness
and concern
over her children.
no more fears over her
money situation. free and
delivered and victorious and
stamped with the Blood of
Christ. in Heaven forever and ever
and ever and ever. completely

hush. quiet.
do you hear the angels'
choir? the roar of melody
across the Heavens for another
child who has defeated death and

i'll miss you, monica.
i've always loved you.
welcome Home, faithful

fellow soldiers.
march. stamp your
boots to the sound of
our glorious Savior Who
will someday bring us Home,
too. stand tall. grab my
hand. know my love for you.
i am weak and broken and
utterly imperfect, too.

"Savior, like a Shepherd lead
us..." sing with me. hear
the breath of God as He hovers
over us. "much we need Thy
tender care"...yes, Jesus, yes.
we need You. yearn for You.
our boots are muddied. our souls
tarnished with self and indecision
and fear.

"precious Jesus, precious Jesus...
Thou has bought us, Thine we are.."
yes. Lord.
THINE! all Thine.
amen. amen.

hush, quiet.
listen to the soothing
music of the angels' choir
as they shepherd us for
Heaven. like they did for

Friday, July 2, 2010

rest. warriors. rest.
listen. hear the crushing music.
feel the earth shift as broken sons and
daughters, empty and now, triumphant, rise
from the ashes of deep affliction and
searing pain. see the victorious and
cleansed as they rise out of the

listen. quiet.
a new song. radiating from
hallowed corners of a reckless, and
calloused world. choirs. with raised
hands to the Savior of the universe. the
only One who understands the correct chords
and rhythmic chanting of the lost and
struggling and redeemed.

paint across the sunrise your
deliverance from the cold wilderness
and deep waters from which you've come.
trace the arc of a rainbow. the promise of
beautiful, happy tomorrows.

sitting by my sister's bedside.
a hospital in berkeley, ca.
chemo and a stem-cell transplant
accomplished. courage oozing
out her fingertips. her eyes. running
down her cheeks. wet with triumph
in spite
of illness that has taken her to death's door.
suddenly, her white cells rising.
a miracle. dreams really can live.
thank you all for praying. for standing
by us. sharing in the victory.

i left jan's side
to fly to irvine, ca. to keynote the
international convention for exodus.
gays and ex-gays reaching for peace
of mind and spirit in a brutal environment
of judgement and condemnation. trying
to do God's will. to understand truth.

for me, attempting to share
pure, untarnished love that promises
healing for any and everyone's
woundedness; kissing the deep scars of
shattering isolation. embracing their pain
as they did mine.

i am not gay.
i only know that the complexities
in them match, on a different level, those
in me. i know what the Bible says. and
i filter that through the loving heart of God
who calls all of us to rest. to lying by still
waters. Jesus remembers we are made of
dust. He understands our frame.
(ps. 103:14)

home at last.
regrouping with my children.
heading for the gym, and a fast,
racing six miles. my eyes filling
with tears as the gal behind the check-in
desk crawled over the counter
close enough to hug and kiss me,
and i, her. two single mothers
collide with love and commonality.

i love you, fellow warriors.
run the Race.
breathe even
with the consolation
that you will never
be alone.