“Evening Wolves”


air thick with darkness

A distant sound

Her ear bent

even twisted

around echoes,

haunting, invisible waves

move seductively through

her unguarded mind




Like evening wolves

they call to her

threatening advancing hunt

to kill

and destroy


of thought


and dangerous…..

A Sword glimmers


power waiting


vigilant with purpose

 to fight

not surrender

to win

not lose

Evening wolves fall silent

The Sword


 “The thief comes ONLY to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (Jn. 10:10)

“In all circumstances take up…the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.” (Eph. 6:16-17)


“One Good Woman…”

“The opposite of a nice girl, I learned, is a “good woman.” Being a good woman means trading the safe, passive, people-pleasing behavior of niceness for dynamic power of true goodness. It means moving from the weakness and immaturity of girlhood toward the strength and maturity of womanhood…a good woman knows she cannot be all things to all people, and she may, in fact, displease those who think  she should just be nice. She is not strident or petty or demanding, but she does live according to conviction. She knows that the Jesus she follows was revolutionary who never tried to keep everyone happy.” (exerpt from “Nice Girls Don’t Change the World” by Lynne Hybels– this book is a must read for any “nice girl”).


“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.” (Prov. 31:25)


and dignity

of a good woman

Sleepy visions visit

of Cottonwood trees

bending and breaking

from mighty chorus of wind

unlike the soldier

standing beside


wood of steel

wind threatening root

for destruction

but branches reach

making point

of height

and depth

and voice

The old oak

steady and valiant


A good woman?

stature reaching

eyes forward

neck of grace


laughter birthing

not to mock the wind

but to dance

with its’ Creator

Naked Beauty

She stands naked


layer after layer


she stands

barren from search…

dripping with blood,

The eyes of her Beloved

searching her own

she falls into sorrow

her hands unclenched

her pride broken

pearls falling one by one

from the perfectly sewn strand

Will she yield to her Beloved’s gifts

of conviction

of removal

of new life?

Her nakedness

proving brokeness

now stands awakened


for clothing

not her own

but of her Beloved’s

no longer defined

by pearls

but by being His.

A Road Not Travelled..

“I looked towards the wintering trees to hush my fretful soul, as they rise to face the icy sky and hold fast beneath the snow,

Their rings grow wide, their roots go deep, that they might hold their height and stand like valiant soldiers through the Watches of the Night,

And no human shoulder ever bears the weight of all the world, but hearts can sink beneath the ache of troubles sudden surge,

yet far beyond all knowing there’s  a strong and sleeping light that reaches round to hold me through the watches of the night,

And I have cried upon the steps that seemed too steep for me to climb, and I’ve prayed against a burden I did not want to be mine,

But, here I am , and this is where you are calling me to fight, and You I will remember through the Watches fo the Night,

You I will remember, through the Watches of the Night.”


“And Jesus draw me ever nearer as I labor through the storm; You have called me, to this passage and I’ll follow though I’m worn,

May this journey bring a blessing and may I rise on wings of faith,

And at the end of my hearts testing, with your likeness let me wake..”

The above poem and song lyrics written by Keith and Kristyn Getty (Watches of the Night).

 I could think of no other way to start today’s blog than with the above words from the pen of this skilled couple.

I do not understand the length nor the breadth of the journey God has now called me to, but I do know that as my stubborn will finds its way into His hands and agrees to walk the journey without invitation to self-pity, I will know His strength and peace; I will know that my steps are not my own and that as I walk, each step will become a deeper imprint of trust and faith.


I am not alone.

There are many of you out there who find yourself on a journey you did not ask for, or choose. It arrived at your door demanding an invitation to either walk its path, or close the door in denial.

O what to choose?

She stands there at first,

face void of expression

heart pulsing over sight of a road not journeyed…

Is she a coward?

Will she walk?

Will she stand tall?

Does she believe in a God of love?

 Does she?

There is soul noise as faith, truth and pain collide

What now? 

Where is wisdom?

What answer is right?

Will she agree to “double-dutch” with emotion and truth?

The door stands open,

beckoning a step through..

Will she take it?

Limbs are numb, not easily persuaded 

Movement catches her glassy eyes

What does she see?

Shadows of the past dance across the path awaiting her footprint 

The form of a small child emerges, twirling to the current of melody..

the child is lost inside her dance,

Her face calmly mirrored with reflections from her soul 

Memory serves the one watching by the open door

of a life of passionate expression

of a soul unhindered

and free

The shadow serves her mother”s memory

will it give her mother courage

to walk with

and not against

the other’s journey of choice?

The door beckons

the path awaits

tears fall slowly

as her foot crosses the threshold

to walk

a journey not taken

nor desired

but in love

and by faith

they will walk arm in arm

faces alight from souls held fast

to only One who remains

forever and always…