It comes and goes like waves breaking against the shore before pushing back into the frigid ocean waters kept cool by the lack of sun. It comes and goes like a winter gusts that twist around the street corners at the base of the mighty towers of this frozen city. It comes and goes like mist from my mouth as my breath hits the cold air and flares outward like smoke from belly of a dragon as it contains its fire.   Pain hurts just the same no matter where it’s from. A father watched his son fall again and strike his head against the ground. He rushed to hold him and wipe away the tears. Both together hurt from all the pain so different, yet the same.   A husband stood alone in that hospital room. He was broken and angry at the sky. Why would God allow his wife to suffer when he believed he’s the one who deserved to die? She was in so much pain as the scars from surgery revealed, but as her husband wept and he squeezed her tiny hand, his pain was just as real.   It comes and goes like waves...

May the light grow ever stronger Coming over the mountains at dawn To break the storm that had been raging And is unwilling to move on. With much of its furry in its past and its greatest devastation in its wake, it faltered, weakened by the redemption of the rising sun.   “It’s almost over now.” He whispered Into the breeze that softly drove out The clouds and dispersed their strength Into the valley and there tightly bound Their ferocious voices once united In thunder as it split across the expanse Of the night and shook the earth and sky like music for an other worldly dance   Before it ran out of breath and surrendered, My Father looked at me and smiled, “You’ll get back the years you fear I’ve stolen by the tempest you reviled. The way isn’t much longer and though there’s a feeling you won’t make it, you’re almost there, and with the sunrise know You’re not forgotten or forsaken.”   May the cool summer wind blow Away the chaff and broken storm’s Remains and fill us with hope renewed Rested within his breath and upon the warmth That can only come from the light...

To the man who taught me to walk upright, who pointed me to the All Mighty, who modeled fatherhood before me, who taught me what it meant to be a husband, who showed me humility while being used by God to keep me humble, who displayed the meaning of working out our salvation even when at our most discouraged, who fought for me, who called on the King every day on my behalf, who carried my burdens with me, who defined meekness by simply walking obediently, who had the courage to walk with boldness in righteousness, and who gave me the vision to see that I too am a mighty man of valor, called by God to stand in the gap and shake the world, I say thank you.   Thank you for your faithfulness in walking this life before me and for showing me the way. Thank you for being a guiding light and a compass pointing me towards true north.   Thank you for being my father and for so willingly giving all of yourself to the task that God has given you.   I am honored that I get the privilege to call myself your...

When I stood before the wall of flowers, I saw bouquets filled with deep colors of dark red and brilliant orange.  I saw some with blues bright as sapphire and purples that could be woven into royal robes.  The lush and grandeur was pleasing to the eyes.  Their intense magnificence shouted adoration and spelled it in fireworks.   Yet, tucked behind the bold and vibrant and out of view, sat a small and delicate vase to which my heart responded: recognition.  No, it had no deep violets or burgundy reds.  The colors were soft.  Each petal tenderly breathed the images and thoughts I could never put in to words.  This bouquet, clothed in white, accented by gentle purples, explained her spirit to me.   Nestled around the vase, intermingled with the flowers purple fading in to white and nearly overshadowed among the giants all around, it whispered, “It’s yellow”.   Of course!  Her spirit is yellow!  There were no other flowers to be picked.  All others were verbose and overstated.  They were expressions of passions uncontrolled and predefined beauty.  Yet this… this was the gentle push from a soft breeze or a wave upon a lake as it caresses the...

The words of David left my lips as I tasted the summer air. They came from a heart begging for forgiveness. I had betrayed my Father. In the quiet a felt alone sitting as His feet. I felt small. “Father… who am I that you are mindful of me?” The response, which took my breath away, pushed me deeper into the feeling of insignificance as it drove me back to the arms of my savior. Such is the softness of my father moving my pride and exposing me to humility. “Travis, who am I that I am mindful of you?” David said it! Your glory is greater than all the heavens! The stars, the galaxies, and the universe move because you saw fit to make them move and because you saw fit to define the laws with which they are contained upon this realm and maintained within this cosmos. You made all things to work the way they do. I observe, I understand, and I recreate because you made the universe observable, understandable, and sustainable. Father I cannot understand you. I cannot fathom the distance and the incomprehensible differences from your nature to mine. I am but a pale...

It is fascinating to me that tragedy may be the greatest shaper of faith and maker of holiness.  To have a life of peace is to be left unassured and filled with doubt, but to have a life of trial, heartache, brokenness and turmoil is to know the firmest of foundations and to know, with utter certainty and completeness of hope, the friend, companion, and mighty Savior we have in Heaven.  For is He not a friend of sinners, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief?  To walk such a road is to walk in the footprints of our savior and to say, “Here upon this road I am not alone.  In this darkness I am not forgotten.  For he knows this path and has walked it before me.  He knows its end.  And as we walk this road together, I see my savior face to...

“The future scares me. There’s so much unknown out there.” The words sounded juvenile once they left my tongue, but that realization did nothing to alleviate the anxiety within me. It was as if I was about to be lowered into a deep pit without the light to see the bottom or even the edges of the walls around me. Was there even a bottom? Was I simply suspended in the empty expanse of nothingness? It wasn’t the possible answers which terrified me, but rather the fact that there wasn’t any. From the small opening above me, slowly shrinking as the distance between us grew, my friend attempted to encourage me. He was kind. Yet the fact remained that he was in a world in which the boundaries were known. He could see the ground upon which he walked, he could see the walls that defined how far he could travel, and he knew how high above him the ceiling reached. I leaned back in my harness and looked up at him and, from this angle, it appeared as though he was no longer above me, but rather in front of me. “Great… now I can’t even tell which...

I did not know guilt until I awoke to the truth of who I was. I did not know fear until I faced the promised reality of what could be. I did not know hope until He called my name. I did not know humility until I saw what had been done to save me from that future. I did not know joy until I found it in the might of my king. I did not know peace until He gave me the future that would...

A thousand pieces I left, just in case I ever found where they belonged, in a cluttered attic full of dreams, dusty thoughts, and unfinished songs,   upon a shelf tucked in the back and in a box labelled “Another day” with edges tattered and water stained from years of sitting in the rain.   Someday the fragments won’t be so rough with edges softened by the winding clocks and by the heart of the one that wonders what’s hidden beneath the rusted locks.   It hides the parts of me once new, but discarded, broken, and then left in the mud to be carelessly trampled on by the lies that walk beneath the steps   of the house once lived in down the road with its tilted shutters and broken walls a twisted shadow of what could have been had its former owner cared at all.   Today though, I saw a new box delivered directly to my door Its edges sturdy and made of wood and painted white and clean and pure.   Safely tucked within were waiting a thousand pieces matching mine. And on the slip, the bill of sale, was inked the signature, “Divine”  ...

There are myths and there are legends. Then there are forgotten footnotes. Life bares no great ballads and has no epic battles. It is instead about the moments we listen to voice of the mighty father.  For the battles are won and lost in insignificance.  Life is granted or taken away in the moments forgotten between memories. She was born hearing the voice and heard it for as long as she could remember. She heard it as a child and on to a teenager. Her father smiled when she would recite the things she heard, “If only your mother was here to see you grow.” He heard them too. She loved her father and, as an only child, he was her defender, her friend, and her confidant. He adored her and protected every day. She never doubted his affection. She never doubted his determination to teach her the way she should walk. When she packed her things and moved from home that first time, he gave her an extra tight squeeze and with a tender sadness filled with pride said, “Now it’s your turn to change the world.” She remembered the first day alone. She remembered all the little...

Satisfactory.  Adequate.  Capable.  Competent.  Sufficient. Enough. We live in an age when terms like this mean a lot less than they really do.  My friends would be appalled if I said to a beloved, “You are sufficient.”  They would shake their heads as I quietly whispered the words, “You are enough.” In their defense, culture has taken words like “sufficient” and redefined them more to mean that something has met the minimum requirements and no more.  “Enough” means that you’ve done just what was required to meet the qualifications.  For someone to be enough, it means they are simply good enough to meet immediate needs, but will be left when something better comes along. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” God’s grace meets the minimum requirements and is good enough until something better comes along. How foolish. For six years I was told by one action after another that I was not enough.  The one once closest found “enough” in everyone else but me.  It’s easy to feel bad about being “just” sufficient until you aren’t.  Then it’s the only desire.  When I look to heaven...

What did you say?  What did you do to me?  I have been so lost I could not see the world you open out before me.  Yet here you place upon my path a choice to walk.  To the right it beauty and kindness made from the hands of the All Mighty.  It is your name upon the lips of those that walk that road.  To the left is determination and dedication, to work with strength and to not be discouraged.  It is your calling upon the hearts of those that walk that road.  To the right stands youth and passion and hope of a coming tomorrow.  To the left stands age and understanding and wisdom from experiencing your grace.  The right is discovery.  The left is assurance. You asked me to sit. So here I sit. You asked me to wait. I wait. You will reveal yourself.  You will you show me how to walk straight.  You will be my...

It’s interesting timing with which God brings people into my life.  In the moments when I am most discouraged, he introduces me to the most cheerful person he could find.  When I begin to wonder whether I’m slowly losing grip on reality, he opens my eyes to a world of those who are of like mind and spirit.  When I feel like a leper, he calls those to come around and lay hands on me.  They say the words, “You are clean.” Father, you have made me...

The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness… therefore God gives them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with each other. Because of this, God gives them over to shameful lusts. Even women exchange natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. In the same way, men abandon natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for each other. Men commit shameful acts with other men, and receive in themselves the due penalty for their error. Just as they do not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, God gives them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what should not to be done. They become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity… they invent ways of doing evil… Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them. You have no excuse, you who do the same things. We know that God’s judgment against...

“Oh, am I’m going to amaze you.”  His smile was filled with tender kindness as he touch the skin of his child.  The boy’s parents waited just steps away, beyond the door, waiting to hear the news. “It won’t be today, for I have chosen the time carefully.  For today, wait with me.  I haven’t forgotten my promise.  And when I keep it, you will see the splendor of the All...