I’m asking for grace to choose to believe He really loves me even now when I’m reluctant to bow low before Him and so hungry for my own glory.
But one thing I believe (God help me) is that His love is better than life. Self glorification is so fear-filled and insecure, nothing like the freedom that comes from confessing with my whole heart that He is good and I am not.


You really came to set me free.
You really came that I may have life and have it abundantly.
You really are the way, the truth, and the life.
Your love is truly better than life.
You discipline those who delight in.
Your love is steadfast, forever, wide, long, high, deep. And it will never fail me.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.


wow. Rereading my blog makes me miss intimacy with You. The dark rooms I wept in, but not the shame and the sin that led me there. The leafy gardens I danced in, but not the ignorance I held there. Lord, I know that You are good and You have taught me and grown me and changed me. You have stayed the same, but now You are bigger. More You. I thank You for that, but I’m asking that You’d bring me back to that place—the dark room, the secret garden, the singing, weeping, dancing… I want to stay close to You. Teach me to do that. Teach me to desire You every moment of every day.




Woke up to a beautiful reminder and a powerful promise:

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” (Ps 32:8)

The daily Bible verse today for many people, I’m sure, but it dropped into the edges of my tired eyes and slipped silently down my throat, sweet as honey, still flowing into the deepest parts of my spirit and soul.

Entering a new season, a new semester, I feel reassured. Reassured that He is with me always, to the very end of the age, that He will make straight my paths when I acknowledge Him in all my ways and lean not on my own understanding, that He knows me and is familiar with all my ways…

and on this quiet Sunday morning, reassured that when I awake, I am still with Him. (Ps 139:18)


Oh God,

There are so many eyes looking to me! I only want to look to you.
What goodness they see in me– it has always been you.
I miss the people who showed me your goodness; how much more so can I see your face in light of everyone’s absence?
For you are my lone stronghold, my refuge and my great strength.
Help me not to be afraid, for you are with me.
My hiding place. You are a lover who knows how to love well.
Keep me near. Turn my eyes to see your face, ’til all I know is death.
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Reminders for a weak heart

My eyes are dry
my faith is old
my heart is hard
my prayers are cold

And I know how
I ought to be
alive to You,
and dead to me.

Oh what can be done for an old heart like mine?
Soften it up with oil and wine.
The oil is You,
Your spirit of love… please wash me anew, in the wine of Your love.

–Keith Green, My eyes are dry


This has become the cry of my heart. I know He allows dry seasons in our lives, that seasons are necessary for bearing fruit. I am fearful sometimes, though, of my lack of zeal, my lack of knowledge. Am I in right-standing with God? Yet I am hopeful because I know the truth; it has been revealed to me by grace. I am eternally grateful to the one who has ransomed me. I wish to be faithful, trusting in His intentions for me so that I know He has not left me to dry up, but that in His time, I will find my ultimate satisfaction. Beyond the music, beyond the noise, beyond the hymns. Beyond words and human affirmation. Beyond myself… I wish to know Him for who He is because the more I find of Him, the deeper I fall in love.

In the midst of this spiritual desert, I wish to trust Him and be faithful. Faithful in seeking. In waiting. In giving.

I have doubts about myself. Do I have pure intentions? Am I hardened? Am I back-sliding? When I look to myself, I am filled with hopelessness because before God, even my own righteousness is far too filthy. When I look to myself, I grow arrogant if I feel I am doing well in the eyes of man. When I look to myself, I do not see Jesus.

But when I look to Christ, I am reminded… reminded of the truth. And the truth is this: God is faithful in every season.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. (Ps 27:14)

I don’t think I believe in God

because if I did, if I really contemplated the mysteries of the universe and felt the weight of my insignificance…if I realized there was a creator who’d mapped out the stars and laid out the grassy plains, sculpted the craggy rocks and from infants’ lips ordained praise…if I understood that His foolishness was greater than man’s wisdom…if I considered His temple up in the high heavens, the train of His robe trailing in the throne room, a host of angels singing holyholyholy…if I marveled at His presence, if I knew He saw all things, that He searched my heart time and time again and grieved so that I might return to Him and repent of my sins…if I felt His unfailing love as He hung from a tree in the form of lowly man…

Then I wouldn’t be so


I wouldn’t be so proud standing under His probing gaze. I wouldn’t neglect Him. I wouldn’t misunderstand His plans for me. I wouldn’t mistrust Him. I wouldn’t lust after man. I wouldn’t care for man’s thoughts of me. I wouldn’t…

I wouldn’t be the same.

I wrote this piece way earlier on this year, but came to reflect on it again today. It’s been a tough season in my life, and often I find myself unable to articulate my thoughts. There is a numbness to the way I am living. There is also so much anguish and distress. In the words of the Psalmist, “my tears have been my food day and night.” Truly, I’ve never been so at a loss for words… frankly unable to explain myself, defend myself, uplift myself… when I pray in the mornings, I feel a heavy oppression come over my spirit.

Yet I know in my heart I have not stopped reaching out to God.

Yes, I pray less often. I cry less often. I…I’ve just changed. In my own heart, I don’t know whether this change has been for the good or bad, but I am choosing to trust that He works for the good of those He loves and has called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28) I am choosing to believe that truly His love knows no bounds; I need the power to understand the depth and height and width of His love. It is unfathomable in and of itself.

When it feels I have run out and dry, He never runs dry. It is a season of humbling, of maturing, of anguish and unrest, of apathy…a season of complications and confusion. I wish it to be a season of letting go and letting God know that forever I am His. Forever and ever and ever.

“Because whom have I in heaven besides thee? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee.” (Ps 73:25) Come to think of it, I’m beginning to empathize with this poet quite well.