Through the Stillness

It May Be Odd
I have been thinking about writing and how I miss the feeling I get in the midst of the flow. You know what I mean when I say flow? It is the flow of words that come to mind so quickly that my excited fingers cannot always even keep up with my mind. To me, typing words is similar to ASMR, or whatever it is called. The sound of my rhythmic finger tapping soothes me. Sometimes I fall so deep into a rhythm that I almost don’t even realize the words I am typing until I pause, read it, and think, hmmm I like the way those words go together. I even enjoy the editing part. The sound of a quick backspace, backspace, backspace, backspace carries its own tune that reminds me I can change what I have to say. I can make it better than it was before. I can fix my mistakes. I can even rewrite what I erased––if I so choose. Is this writing about the act of writing an odd thing to write about?

Maybe it is odd and maybe I do not/should not care. When I write, I have words that I created with care and intention. It is quite neat for me to read something that matters so much to me that every aspect of it, even the sound of tapping evokes something positive.

Speaking of words, I am in a women’s bible study that is reading a book about the power of words. What I am being reminded of is that the power not only lies in what I say, but how I say it, what I choose not to say, and even in what I allow to be said in my presence. The power I speak of can be good or bad. It can bring glory to God or bring a satisfying smirk to Satan’s face.

Now may be a good time to add, everyone messes up at times and we have a loving God full of mercy and grace. Let us remember that but not allow Satan’s satisfying smirk to continuously arise without trying to wipe it right back off.

I want to pose one more thought. What if we stopped defending our careless words? No more “I am just being real…it won’t be the last time someone dislikes me for saying what everyone else is thinking…or so on.” For example, what if we saw that really being real is admitting where the carelessness actually came from? (Pride, jealousy, hurt, insecurity…) Would it be odd to hear someone admit they were just being prideful and insecure? Yes, maybe initially it would be odd––but then maybe it would lead to real realness and eventually (hopefully) it could lead to a beautiful path of healing. Like the sound of backspace, backspace, backspace, backspace maybe it would change things, make things better than they were before, and fix mistakes––but of course not as quick and easy as my handy dandy little backspace button.

I don’t know, y’all. I feel like I may have turned something odd into something quite powerful to think about.
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January 9, 2026

books, creative-writing, fiction, life, writing
The Storms
This morning’s bible study ended with the parable of The Wise and Foolish Builders. I began thinking about some words I had written in my bible next to these verses. I remembered why I wrote them and knew these words would always be a reminder of the personal significance of this parable. My words were this:

The wise still experience the storms.

Matthew 7:24-27 says:

²⁴“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. ²⁵And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. ²⁶And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. ²⁷And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”

(I once had a teacher who stressed that when scripture repeats itself, I should pay attention. Just as my wise teacher taught me, I urge you to pay attention to the repetition.)

If you read the first parts of both verses 25 and 27 you will see the words, “And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house…” You see, both the wise man and the foolish man still experienced the same storm. Although the repetition here is not the full big picture meaning of this parable, it makes me pause and remember the struggles I had as a kid.

I believed, as a Christian, I should not feel the storms. It was as though being a Christian should take away all my struggles. I also felt shame for feeling the brokenness that remained in me and yet I could not stop myself from feeling it…and from seeing it in me and everyone else. I could share the reasons why I believed all of that, but it would take too long. What I will share is that I am grateful, so incredibly grateful, I had people teach me about God’s grace and to also affirm that I was indeed correct about the brokenness in each of us. It is the reason we need a Savior (duh).

So yep, we all feel the storms in life. We all have struggles. As Christians, when the winds beat against us, we can lean into our faith knowing we have a God who will never leave us or forsake us. We can tightly cling to the hope and truth that nothing in this broken world can ever take away.
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April 13, 2025

bible, christianity, faith, God, Jesus
The In Between
It isn’t always easy, you know, and I know,

living a life that pulls you to the in between.

Voting confidently one way,

and yet knowing it isn’t the only way.

Living one way and yet knowing,

we must stand arms wide open in the in between.

It is hard to accept, you know, and I know,

this life of being both sinner and saint.

We know what is right but yet we too fall short.

The utter pain and the relentlesss yearning,

to escape the brokenness that we all create.

How weary it is in this time of the in between.

We are to stand strong and admit we’re quite faint

as we show love with both truth and grace.

Point them to more and meet them where they’re at.

Be inclusive at our tables and share the exclusive fact:

There’s a loving Savior who died for us and for them.

Let’s give them the hope, show them the beauty, in the in between.
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February 12, 2025
Waiting for the Wind
I want to write a poem.

The kind that makes me not care if anyone else likes it.

The kind that brings joy and freedom, solace and strength.

I think I have been too busy for a poem.

My to do-list has swept my flowing words away.

Or maybe it’s more my words are stuck.

Yes, that must be it.

The poem I long to write is merely stuck.

I think of the days of my childhood,

sailing the waters in the Key of Sea.

Like a melodic tune, it flowed beautifully with the winds guidance.

The swelling sails swelled our hearts with joy.

Not every time though.

There were days feeble winds slowed our flow.

We coasted along ever so slowly.

All we could do is wait for the wind.

My words, my poem, will surely come.

Until then, I will simply wait for the wind.
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December 26, 2024

poem, poems, poetry, sailing, writing
His Love
What would our lives look like if we lived as though God loves us?

If we live as though we’ve surrendered to how wide, long, and deep His love is,

If we embrace the Mary in us who yearns to stop and sit at His feet,

Instead of the Martha who struggles to stop and grasp Him.

Suppose we could accept that He accepts us just as we are,

But doesn’t want us to stay just as we are,

Because He knows the true us He created us to be.

What would our lives look like if we loved as though God loved us?

If we strive to see others through the lens of His wide, long, and deep love,

If we understand their Martha who aches for love and affirmation,

And lead them to their Mary who doesn’t hesitate to sit in His presence.

Suppose we help them accept His love just as they are,

But they don’t want to stay just as they are,

Because our love, through His love, shows them who they’re created to be.
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August 4, 2024
Reflection
I took this picture while on vacation in Wisconsin. It makes me think of how we are supposed to be a reflection of God’s love. Just as the sky is imperfectly reflected on the water, we will never be capable of fully reflecting God’s love. It doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful and captivating.

What if we began to believe this? Not just for ourselves, but for others as well. It’s easy to accept our own imperfections and to know when the rough waters arise we naturally reflect less. We tend to be harder on others. Don’t we?

When their glimpses of God fade instead of shimmer, we act as though it isn’t there at all. We take it personal instead of pulling them on our boat or sitting with them through their storm. We tell others about their murky water. Then all the others begin to see is the murkiness you pointed out.

What if we began to help still the waters instead of creating more wake? Just imagine for a moment. We’d see more of God’s reflection in them and they’d see more of Him in ours.
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August 21, 2022
Clanging Cymbal
Have you ever had a memory of something that your entire body reacted to? Like, you remember a sight, touch, smell, sound, or taste that physically feels as though it is happening all over again. It is quite fascinating that our minds are that powerful, isn’t it?

A couple weeks ago our pastor did a sermon on judging others. Remember the story of the adulteress?

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:3-7).

This is what the sermon was based on and I keep thinking of it because I struggle with judging others from time to time. I also know how it feels to be judged. We all know how that feels and it truly can have devastating effects.

During the sermon we all had stones in our hands that they gave us as we entered the sanctuary. At one point the pastor threw his stone into a metal bucket to demonstrate how we need to let go of the stones we hold. It was disturbingly loud and sent a shock-like reaction throughout my entire body. Other times throughout the sermon he would pick up another stone and throw it into the metal bucket. Even though I knew what was coming, my body reacted the same each time. I remember squeezing the rock in my hand thinking of times I have wrongly judged others.

It was brilliantly done. It was also convicting.

Too many christians justify their judgment of others. I too have justified my judgments. Satan uses this as a way to divide the christian community. I’m going to repeat. Satan uses this as a way to divide the christian community. As long as there is judgment, slander, gossip, and so on whatever good works you are doing for God will be weaker. It definitely isn’t bringing as much glory to God. Guaranteed. When I think of this coming from Satan, it makes me realize how important it is for us to hear it and then guard ourselves against it. It isn’t easy. It especially isn’t easy to speak out against it when you are with a group of people doing it. It gives me anxiety just to think of it.

Looking through the bible, there are numerous passages I can share to back up my thoughts. The one that stands out the most though is 1 Corinthians 13:1 because I believe lack of love causes all of this. As Christians, we use our spiritual gifts to further the kingdom and to strengthen our brothers and sisters in Christ. The verse says:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Corinthians 13:1).

I think of my body’s reaction to the stones being thrown into the metal bucket…it is the same reaction I would have to a clanging cymbal. Without love, we are a disturbing sound that sends a shock-like reaction throughout our entire bodies. Yikes.
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April 14, 2022

christianity, life
Edit
I remember the first time I had a piece published in a magazine. I was ecstatic. Then, the edits began. I should’ve used this word instead of that one. I should’ve put this sentence in front of that one. Mind you, the piece was already published. There were no edits needed. I was editing in my mind instead of praising God for the work He did through me.

As of late, I find myself doing this in my every day life as well. If I did more of this and less of that then my life would be better and easier. If I said this instead of that then she wouldn’t have rolled her eyes. If I seemed less excited. More excited? There’s something missing! No, no, no, and no. I need to praise God for the way He made me while knowing that I can never take away all my struggles…no matter how many “edits” I make.

Every strength comes with a struggle. There are flaws found everywhere and in everyone. I believe God made it that way to keep us humble and to remember where and who our strength comes from.

The end.
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March 15, 2022
March Forth
There are days when I feel as though everything I do gets undone. Clean clothes become unclean. The dishes lose their sparkle with one touch of food. Beds become unmade and floors gather dust in an instant. I’m convinced I can hear the leaves I just swept off my front porch giggle as they rush back in with one gust of wind. Why do I bother?

A while ago, I had my class draw a picture. I told them they could draw whatever they wanted, but no one else could see it. They spread out and hovered over their papers as they drew their masterpieces. I then handed each of them a piece of paper with a hole in the middle to cover their drawings and when they were finished they could exchange theirs with another kid’s. I then had them to move the top paper around to see if they could figure out what the other kid drew through the little hole. It was unsuccesful.

Next, I had them all close their eyes as I taped their pictures on the wall. After all the pictures were up, I had them look through the paper with a hole in it from where they were sitting. They were all amazed at how clearly they could see the drawings from further away. The point was to show them we can’t always see things clearly when we are in the trenches of everyday life. We can’t see how God is working or what our work is doing in the lives of others. Pretty cool, right?

All the things that keep feeling undone really aren’t. It is all doing something. It all matters. When I take a step back, I can see how the steps of yesterdays have moved me and my family forward. I can see God’s grace and love and power in it all, even the hard. So, I continue march forth (through the never ending piles of clothes, dust, leaves, and homework) because I trust God and know He is right here with me.
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March 4, 2022
Window View
Staring out my window, I see crab apple tree branches full of tiny fruits. The dangling red clusters are so exquisite against the grayish blue autumn sky. It seems to be the perfect contrast. I can’t stop staring. I can’t stop feeling so flipping poetic as I get lost in my mind and sip on my french pressed coffee. It’s quite funny, like I’m living out my own artsy fartsy independent film. A short film, that is.

I soon remember what’s to come. The tiny little fruits will soon fall onto my favorite parking spot. Little red splotches will appear on my pretty white car. Gooey clumps sure to get stuck on the bottom of little shoes that aren’t as little as they used to be, but still little enough to not pay attention to or care about the mess they track through the house. What will remain are bare branches my eyes disregard for lack of beauty. Bare branches that only leave my mind to yearn for something more.

Just. Like. That. My poetic-ness is gone.

The beauty of nature overtaken by the prospect of a mess I will one day have to clean up. Under the picture perfect window view lies a cluttered counter of dirty dishes. I wonder how many hours of my lifetime I’ve spent on dishes…on laundry…on picking up after other people. I glance at my clock calculating how much time I get to pretend I’m an ever inspired writer before I have to turn back into a mom who has X amount of minutes to get my ‘mom’ duties done and pick my kids up from school.

Let me go back to my artsy fartsy moment just a little while longer. Oh, there we go, aahhhh. I now know why there are windows over kitchen sinks. Women need them to escape the monotony. The problem now is that my coffee is cold. Truly the life of a mom. Our coffee always gets cold before we get a chance to finish it. Can someone invent a pretty mug with a built in warmer already? Not a thermos style one. The pretty mug is also part of the mom gig.

I really do love my life, though. I love being a mom and feel like more than anything else in this world, I was made to be a mom. The messes and all. I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s just, there’s more to me than being a mom. There has to be more. My kids need to see there’s more.

When I don’t take time to allow my pondering poetic side to come out, I forget to show my kids how to live out their own poems. It makes life more fulfilling, doesn’t it? When I don’t let my kids entertain themselves so I can sneak downstairs to tap dance, my kids don’t see the importance of holding on to themselves when their busy adult lives want to swallow them up. Surely, it does feel like I’m being swallowed up at times. When I don’t ignore the dishes for one more hour so I can write, I neglect the me beyond the me that only thinks of what mess I need to clean up next. There is always some sort of mess, always.

I don’t have much advice when it comes to being a mom. I feel like if you are doing the best to make sure your kids become kind and humble or whatever else you may feel is important (for us it is faith in Christ) than you are on the right track. Just don’t forget it’s okay let go of your duties and to hold on to your window view a little while longer.
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November 2, 2021