Lord, today I’m a 5.

My 1-10 scale hit a solid 5.

Neutral. In-between. Not bad, not great.

Just okay.

I’m tired, but I got dressed.

I frequently lost focus, but I wrote.

I received disappointing news, but I didn’t despair.

I yelled in frustration, but I didn’t lock myself away and cry.

I’m okay with 5 because I remember 1.

I’m okay with 5, still striving for 10.

I’m okay with 5 because that’s where You will meet me.

You’re okay with me being a 5 today.

My hope remains in You. Peace drenches my pores.

Despite the wind and waves surrounding me, You’re already in the storm. So I will not fear.

Faith bolsters my courage ~ quickens my heart ~ lightens my burdens.

You are the One that holds me up, my lungs full with Your breath.

Inhale. Exhale.

When pieces of my heart break off and my soul cracks open, You are there to fill the void and lovingly soothe the deep ache.

You don’t need me to be a 10 to use me.

I am fearfully and wonderfully made; You sculpted me into being.

You know every hair on my head, every thought before it escapes my tongue.

You knew today I would be a 5.

And that’s okay.

You can work wonders with 5.

And I know you won’t leave me here.

With Outstretched Arms

Umbilical cord,

If severed, assures my death.

Constant communication.

Internal ~ External.

Verbal ~ Non-verbal.

Pouring out my heart, all of which You already know.

Approaching broken, life in upheaval,


Overwhelmed by Your grace.

Your love.

Your mercy.

Your blessings upon my life.

Amazed by Your plan for my life,

Even when I cannot see with my eyes.

My faith tells me.

You tell me.

“Wait, child!”

This weapon I hold and wield,

Fighting the enemy onslaught.

Even if I’m caught off-guard,

You never are.

You already know.

Limitless, bottomless,

Incomprehensible love for me.

Certainly undeserved.

But I still come to you ~ over and over.

You never tire of my voice, my praise.

Even in tearful approach,

You long for my attention.

And I am so in love with You.

Falling more in love with You each day,

As I learn, listen, and give

Myself to You.

My Luxurious Hollow Psalm 34:18

Peering into the darkness, I squint my eyes. As if that will help me see farther. Or clearer. Or see anything at all for that matter. I am utterly alone. Too afraid to stretch out my hands for fear the darkness will overtake me. My eyes making the only intentional movements, all in vain.

Taking mental inventory, I become acutely aware of my naked vulnerability. The sudden heaviness of my body bears down on aching bones. Exhaustion seeps from my pores as though no other substance exists in my body. My jaw unclenches to scream out in pain but the cries echo only in my mind.

WHERE ARE YOU? Why did you leave me?

Pebbles underfoot once smooth and stable, now piercing and uneven, cause my unbalance. How was I ever comfortable? I had succumbed to the inky blackness, drawing it deep into my lungs, each breath more labored than the last. Icy gusts cut through my skin. My mind racing, I try to recall anything at all. Any memory that grounds me to you.

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want…..”

I cling desperately to those words. Your Word. Reciting them again and again.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,….”

You are with me. Always with me. So why am I alone?

The smallest shift in the ground beneath me, almost undetectable. Almost. A distant thundering of movement, a quaking of my carefully constructed footing. The roaring nears and my eyes slowly adjust. You are in the distance, arms outstretched. Standing where we once stood together. Basking in sunlight, bathed in love. My soul longs for You.

How did I get HERE? So far away? Memories drip slowly into my consciousness. Spindly fingers wrapping themselves around me, pulling me ever-so-slightly away from you with each bruise. A callous word. Self-pity. Envious glance. Jealous desire. Wrath. Pain. Unsaid prayer. Unread verse.

Your words, just murmurs before, now clear and floating softly along the angry winds whipping my face. “Come to me.”

Raising my shoulders, my atrophied muscles ache, knowing I must move. The shaky precipice beneath me urges a swift response. The darkness between us remains. I must move. Take a step. The pebbles shift and one drops into the chasm. Without a sound.

There is no bottom.

“Come to me.”

I must move forward.

You will catch me. Or teach me to fly.

I raise my eyes to You.

And take the first step….