You’ve missed too many sunsets while you’ve been gone. Yet your warmth still lingers in the air just beyond the horizon. I can’t help but wonder what our lives would be like if you still could drag me down that trail just beyond the edge of the woods to see the purple sky. Your footprints have long since been erased and the earth continues to give way with each new rain. The years have faded the ground where you once walked, much like my memories of your smile. I still remember you. You’ve missed so many stories of heartache since the day you left. Yet I know you’d have given anything to be there for me when I lost you. The hill where we watched the waves until dark is overgrown and buried beneath the trees. You would like the wild pears that grow in the untamed thicket and made some remark about how their bitterness was tempered by their resilience. I can hear your persistent hopefulness as you’d say the same of me. I still remember you. You’ve missed so many of my grand ideas and visions to change the world. Yet your patience is still in the...

What a mighty wall you are with no end in sight.You cannot be climbed or walked on byand no door is through your heart.How then can I reach the other side? I’ll walk along the ground forever,I’ll dig below or build a tower,And I’ll never give up tryingto reach the other side. Please let me know if you’re still thereBecause I’ll never give up fighting.Keep speaking and I will listen,Because I’ll never give up...

While the desert was an unforgiving wasteland, the smells and sensations were an unrelenting temptation that drew her back again and again. She would not wander far though, for she always kept an eye on her boy, who walked these rugged paths with her. He was slower than she, walking upright on those two twigs. While she was barely two years old, she was confident with her movements and could navigate the rocky terrain with nimble agility. This boy, who had been by her side since she was a puppy, was still somehow unfamiliar with his own legs and awkwardly lagged behind her. She assumed that he would never figure out his body and was probably going to be stuck like that forever. Occasionally the boy would call her name, a clear indication that he needed her supervision. She would rush to his side, inspect the surroundings, and confirm his well-being. He was never in any danger when he called her. He was just lonely. As she hurriedly patrolled their perimeter and the path ahead, his obviously poor eyesight and lack of awareness filled him with anxiety. He needed her close to feel safe. But he wasn’t completely helpless....

May the fires of God light your path as you descend into the valley shadowed between the peaks of your achievements. For it is easy to forget that you are still among the lofty mountains when your feet step down from such heights. Rest until your eyes adjust and find in this shade contentment. For here you are shielded from the blinding sun and its blistering heat. You are sheltered from the frigid teeth of blustering winds that buffeted the ridgelines. You climbed the summit, believing it was your purpose, yet saw a thousand more stretched out along the horizon. You will never reach the end, but for you, this is your hope. You bear the name of a traveler. You are of the ones who sit undecided, waiting at each crossroad. As you descend into this vale, may your eyes come down from the stars and settle on those who walk this trail beside you. It is with them, as you take each step together, share each word, hold each hand, and lift each burden, that you have meaning. It does not matter if the path drifts up or tumbles down or fades away completely, but all that...

Just because you know the end of the story doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the paper between your fingers with each page you turn. Though you’ve seen the destination on that road, you must still take each agonizing step towards it. In the journey, you sometimes taste in joy and are often clouded by heartache, yet each is overshadowed by the promises of an Almighty God who knows the sorrows more intimately than you can. For he bought this moment with every drop of blood in his body. He signed the guarantee with marks carved into his flesh by nails and whips and silenced the debt when he rebuilt the human race from decaying bones and walked from the tomb into the morning light. With that final act, he turned the end of all things into the beginning of an eternity where the tragedy of suffering is instead a story of magnificent beauty. Yet, you cannot see those pages clearly, for they are too brilliant for you to understand. Even though you know that he will make good of it, the pain must be lived through and the torment endured. You cannot fill the hole that has appeared...

To whom do I owe the honor of her love? It is the smell of the earth, carried by the breeze, after the summer rains. It is the wonder at the stars in the clear night sky. Whom can I repay for the brilliance of her presence? For it is the fire of red that illuminate the clouds as the sun breaks the horizon. It is the warm drink clutched shivering in cold hands. How deeply indebted am I for the magnificence of her friendship? For it is taste of water when tirelessly working in the scorching heat. It is the laughter which brings you to tears and takes your breath away. Yet here I am, looking across the room at her, astounded. It is handcrafted art, concealed in plain sight. It is the sun hidden among the blind. But for the sight he gave me, it is the most beautiful woman in the world he made...

I saw you in the crowd. From across the room you stared at me. It was like you knew me. Your smile said that you understood the life that brought me here and you knew where I was going. Your compassion is the breeze that brings relief to the stagnant and solitary places within me. But then you looked away and I knew it wasn’t you. Just an echo of the one I love resounding through the faces of strangers. An impossible illusion of perfection.   You tapped me on the shoulder and asked if you could cut in line. My lungs searched for breath and my heart sent lightning through my chest. Your voice is the lullaby that erases the thunderstorm of the countless others hovering over me and invading my mind. But when I turned around to face the melody of the heavens, it wasn’t you. The shadow you had cast upon my enraptured heart evaporated. For the lyrics here were foreign.   You sat next to me as the sun set outside my window. We were miles above the earth and skimming the stars. You laid your head on my shoulder and I felt the tranquility...

How great could God truly be if he lived up only to the aspirations of the feeble minds that take his name? For him to be a god of any count, he must then exceed all of the hollow ambitions that humanity can invent. His intent is pure wisdom. His ingenious is incorruptibly brilliant. His patience is unimaginable. His meticulous strategy, to rescue us from the evils we’ve beset upon ourselves, has advanced unabated. His benevolent plan is intertwined within every moment. His plan is carried out through our noblest endeavors  and remains absolute even in our villainy.  For how great could God truly be if he could not make good of our havoc and weave the outcome into perfection. Is this is why the progressions of history take eons? For it is as the stories are woven, one generation into another, one millennia into the next, that the true patterns of God’s perfect goodness can been seen.  One must have eyes which see the rotations of the galaxies to glimpse the grandeur of God’s plans in...

I could tell that I lay on the remnants of a boat.  The wooden pieces made of shattered and broken beams were bound by tangled metal, tar, and rope. The heavy cords were intertwined, not by my involvement, but rather coincidence or divine intent. The now tiny raft, not much bigger than I, floated alone in a calm, unmoving ocean that stretched beyond the horizon.  The water shimmered, moved, and pulsed as the seas do, but it caused no motion in the raft for its waves were strong enough to shake leaves or seaweed had they rode atop them, but nothing more.  Not that there were such things, for the water was pristine.  I alone was the island floating in the expanse.  It was a deep blue.  The kind of blue that you imagine the ocean is before, upon visiting the sea, it is overwritten by reality. The kind of blue that children use to draw pictures of the water which they have yet to discover.   Her eyes were that blue too.  Oh, how her eyes reflected the heavens and swept me away in their sapphire brilliance. I was looking into the heart of young stars still burning...

Your eyes were daylight In the midnight I was drowning in Your lips carried hope and Through your laughter, I’m smilin’ Is this the day we met Or has time stood for us I asked you to tell me your hearts desire. And you said, “you!” I haven’t seen the sunsets In a thousand days but I don’t miss a thing because all I want it you Is this the day we met Or has time stood for us I asked you to tell me your hearts desire. And you said, “you!” You said, “You” And I said, “You...

I feel it.  It’s something within my chest.  When I look at you, a warmth begins in my heart and travels outwards, crawling through my veins and soft pain takes me be surprise.  Maybe it’s a rush of cold instead, that freezes and flows from the source and reaches through my chest.  It could also be a pressure trying to escape by pushing my lungs aside.  Yet it feels like a sudden vacuum pulling everything inward as if to try to collapse my ribs around it.  These sound like metaphors, but the sensation is very real and the descriptions as literal as I can make them.  Without a reference, though, I cannot explain it nor use analogy.  I have no image or explanation that will suffice.  I have never understood nor been able compare to something else the sharp twinge of pain that shoots through me.  I can only assume it is love as it only occurs in the moments I see you and when I am filled with overwhelming joy. I know I love you. Often, I feel it...

I will do dishes every day.  I will fold the laundry every time we pull them from the dryer. I will vacuum the entire house.  I will water all the plants you attempt to grow.  I will run the errands that you need.  I will clean the garage when it gets full of the junk we still think we need.  I will make the bed in the mornings after we toss and turn all night.  I will sleep on the couch when you feel sick and need the bed and pillows all around to get you comfortable.  I will drive you to your parents to see your mom so that you can be encouraged.  I will take out the garbage, even though I think it’s not quite full yet.  I will make you cups of tea to help your throat.  I will dust the bookshelves even though you hadn’t noticed they were dusty.  I will straighten up the couch and arrange the decorative pillows just the way you like.  I will do all the things you need.  I will love you all the ways I can.  I will pray for you each day.   I will fail to do...

Growing up is a strange phenomenon.  Your world starts out as small as you are.  As a child, you can’t really comprehend the immensity of it all.  In expanding your horizons to adulthood, you still can’t fathom it, but you have a better grasp on your own minuteness.  The world is not restricted to your childhood home.  Exploration and trailblazing are no longer limited to your backyard or treehouse.  The world expanded.  Growing up means that adventures require a great deal more sensory input.  You must leave your city and travel to another.  Once you’ve done that, the scale grows.  You must now leave your state and go to another, maybe you will need to even travel to another country.  Because of this growth, your perspective changes and, as you experience new things, so do your needs.  Where once a small town could meet every need and your parents where the catalyst of providing for that need, now you must venture elsewhere.  In doing so, something fascinating happens.   As you venture forward, the places you have left become petrified in your memory.  This is to say, you remember them as you left them.  When and if you return,...