The Spoken Psalms

I've started reading the Psalms for my morning Bible reading since it turns out that trying to read Jeremiah in February is a *bad* idea. I'm reading these Psalms and realizing that they sound, in my mind's voice, like spoken word. I hear the impassioned speech of a desperate poet, trying with all his arts and knowledge to find words to communicate his plight and then his salvation. I hear his voice rise as he describes his anguish and his joy. I feel the pauses, the weight he gives to certain phrases- Selah. I hear the catch in his throat as he is overcome by emotion at the realization of his god's goodness. I can almost see his hand clenched at his chest as he breathes out the final words, "In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for YOU alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."

These are not dry words penned by a religious scholar. These are my kind of words. Words that bring tears and tug at your soul. Words from the heart of a man who suffered well and rejoiced even better. These words are balm to my own heart and they spur me on toward hope, closer to joy, and further into the presence of true beauty.  

I Met a Murderer Today

After a conversation I had today about Jeffrey Dahmer, I was reminded of a poem I wrote 8 years ago at a time when I was struck with the depth of my sin and the ridiculous expanse of God's forgiveness. I dug up the dusty words to share with you all. 


I met a murderer today
I hid my eyes and looked away.
His face was too grotesque to me,
His gleaming teeth a fright to see.
I saw the people that he killed-
Their bodies bruised, their breathing stilled.
I heard the screaming, felt the tears,
Saw the culmination of his victims’ fears.
Oh, what horrors this man wrought!
I uncovered my face and for some comfort I sought.
The murderer does the same, I see
And now I know it’s only a mirror in front of me.

Of Magic and Mugs

This past New Year's everyone in our family got a special new mug for coffee, tea, and cocoa. When I was purchasing the mugs, I ended up with an extra snowman mug that I then set aside, thinking it would make a cute gift for someone else at some point. Totally not a big deal. Fast forward to today when Zoe's adorable penguin mug was scattered on the floor in pieces after an unfortunate accident. She was in tears and understandably so. But when I was able to hand her a brand new mug in the shape of a cheerful, rotund snowman, her eyes lit up and wetly sparkled with almost unbelieving delight. My simple error in buying one too many mugs resulted in a magical moment in our house.

My life is filled with moments like this. Most days I hardly notice the magic happening, but it's always there, buzzing in the air. I'm convinced that when I first emerged into this world, kicking and screaming, that God chuckled to Himself. He knew all the little pockets of mystery that awaited me, all the glimmers of magic and miracle, the dusting of the eternal on every surface of my life.

I've been so grumpy today. I don't wanna do, well- anything. But God (there it is again!) took the ugly minutes and breathed His Spring-like breath on them. Out they blossomed, like so many lilies, reminding me that yes, today is beautiful. And, yes, there is magic in my home.

Snow Angel

I wrote this yesterday after playing outside with my children. Lying on a mattress of fresh snow and feeling the snowflakes falling on my face made me feel like a kid again. 

I made a snow angel today,
A clumsy act of former times.
In the frozen white, long I lay
Stealing this moment my only crime.

Eyes shut tight with smiling lines
Then the hush a whisper brings.
Joy curled round me- frosty vines,
On my face, the icy brush of angel wings.

My Children

I'm amazed at my children. I often look at them and think in wonder, "How on earth did I end up with such incredible children? What did I do to deserve these little people?" If you could see us on any given weekday, you'd know that I am hardly mother of the year or even mother of the week. I yell at my kids, I'm impatient with them, time and time again I put my own needs and wants before theirs. 

And yet, do you know what my kids say to me almost every day? "Mommy, you're the best mommy in the world." They can't claim ignorance. They are front seat witnesses to my sins, my short comings. They are the ones feeling my temper and suffering from my selfishness. But their wide, twinkling eyes see with the filter of grace. They are not oblivious to my wrongdoings, but they choose to see goodness instead. They choose to focus on the times when I am being a good mommy. They choose to look past my sin, cover it with their child-like love, and magnify my feeble attempts at doing right by them.

My babies are teaching me how to love. They are teaching me what grace is. I have four little examples of Jesus running around my house. I don't deserve this in the least. I could focus on my guilt, I could duck my head in shame, but instead I will embrace these gifts. I will embrace the love of God in these children and claim this grace as mine, given to me by the Father of Lights. I will watch my children shine, beaming heavenly brightness in this dark world. And I will be ever thankful for the perfect love that theirs is a droplet of- the love that covers ugliness with beauty and turns this sinner into the best mommy in the world.