Such a Time as This

IMG_1013For what am I created?
Why do I exit?
What is my purpose?
For such a time as this.

Have I lost it? Passed it?
My calling have I missed?
Where shall I serve God?
For such a time as this.

Where is the grand design?
Where am I made to fit?
Tell me and then place me,
For such a time as this.

The world with its distractions
Is so hard to resist
How am I to stay pure?
For such a time as this.

Take me from all this trouble
This fog and heavy mist.
I’ll serve when I am ready
For such a time as this.

What is it we should do?
Make another thought out list..
What is the next new programme?
For such a time as this.

For the child that is screaming
And throwing a great fit,
Mothers serve the saviour,
For such a time as this.

It may be a shop or garage
Or office where you sit
God has there now placed you,
For such a time as this.

Stop thinking of what’s past,
The stories you have missed
For this is where you are!
For such a time as this!

You may not be a pastor
It’s surely not God’s wish,
That all do foreign missions
For such a time as this!
The place we share the gospel
Is where we reside, exist.
The harvest it is waiting!
For such a time as this!

Don’t make another programme
Another well meaning list
Shine where you are placed,
For such a time as this!


Miles, not Inches

When I was a child I watched the Olympics. There was diving competitions, the divers would do all sorts of aerial acrobatics and then slip gracefully into the water. There were also gymnast’s performing great physical feats that looked effortless in their grace. Having watched these events and having a childlike confidence in my own ability led to the following moment: I stood on the edge of my fathers desk, in our basement, (our thinly carpeted basement). I repeated to myself, ‘I believe! I believe’ I imagined myself flipping effortlessly through the air, and landing gracefully on my feet. I had not done a trial run. I had in no way practiced, I just thought if I believed in myself enough, I would succeed.

I leaped!

Th next think I remember is waking up on our basement couch, my mom and dad staring at me in dismay and concern. I had landed on my head, and was lucky to only have a great big lump. Possibly a concussion, but my parents never took me into the hospital. It was the 80’s I was their fourth child, they figured I would be fine. Also how do you explain those circumstances to a doctor?

why do I share this story? While, obviously, I am glad to have in many ways outgrown my childlike foolishness. I do envy the faith I had as a child. I didn’t  fear, I just kinda did stuff. Oh, if only as an adult I could stand on the edge of the trials and precipices of my life and instead of saying ‘I don’t believe in myself’ as I often do. I say in childlike confidence not that ‘I believe in myself’ but that ‘I believe in You God!’ IMG_0860



Lord take me out of my comfort zone;
To where You receive glory alone.
Beyond what I can do on my own!
To the foot of Your Cross and Your throne!

May my faith not lay in my hands;
In the achievements of what I would plan.
Let me not build up castles of sand;
Through my frailty do what only You can!

You are the God who takes the ‘least of these’
The humble upon bended knee;
In their weakness display Your great deeds!
A willing heart is all that you need!

Alone we can achieve a few worldly wins;
Self assurance our prideful limiting sin.
You call us not to merely sink or to swim;
But walk on water! Our eyes fixed on Him!

Lord grant me again the faith of a child!
Expectations not of inches but miles!
Let me cling to You confidently in every trial!
May I witness Your glory, so great and so wild!

The Low Pedestal

I was in a mood today. I was in a self righteous, I know better, isn’t everyone else dumb mood. The thing about being writer, and a lover of words is that it is a gift. It is a gift from God to be used for his glory, or to the glory of self. My dear long suffering husband can attest to how very sharp and accurate my insults can be. How very demeaning I can be with my words. God in his Goodness has refined this greatly. I try to use my words to only encourage, offer hope, and love. That doesn’t mean I have never had to confront someone, but usually it is with a lot of prayer and humility.

Yet there are days… days when I get up on my pedestal and write angry words at the world. It is crazy how low I can sink on that pedestal! Thankfully, as I read my bitter rhymes to my husband, feeling oh so smug. He gently asked me ‘What is up with you today?’. It wasn’t much, but it was the correction I needed to hear. So I wrote a poem of repentance. I am also so grateful that I did not press publish on my bitter words, and they have been safely deleted, even from the cloud (whatever that is). Not all of my poems are rosy, but I try (try mind you) to share pain in a way that is helpful and healing.

So with out further rambling here is my repentant poem:

Today I was angry and bitter,
I wrote poems aloof and aloft!
They were judgmental and harsh;
Not kind, not helpful, filled with rot.

My haughtiness fell on the page.
I sneered with my words at the world.
My pride got the better of me;
I got caught in an angry whirl.

Round and round went my impotent rage.
One insult on the heel of another.
As I thought myself witty and clever,
While demeaning life of another.

I felt right, I felt justified!
Truth is what I wrote after all…
But it screamed from such a great height;
That no one would heed its call.

Smash down this great alter I built!
The one on which I chose to stand.
Dear Father humble once again;
Set me on rock, not raised sifting sand!
Can I look in the eye of my brother,
Can I even see correctly his error.
When this plank in my eye made of rage,
Is making me an unholy terror!

I know that at times correction
Is Holy, fair, loving, and justified.
My prayer is to seek, wisdom humble.
May I never correct out of self pride!IMG_0858

Unwanted Thoughts

Unwanted thoughts. They seep in when you least expect it. Whether it be of carnal temptation, or visions of self glorification. As a woman, it’s often is not physical thoughts of lust which seek to take hold in my mind. Rather, deep intimate conversations which play as a well scripted movie in my mind and I am always the central character. Or perhaps it’s even thoughts of adoration and glory from others for myself, that should ultimately be laid upon God.

The struggle is real, yet so is my God! So are the words of my Saviour! So is the councillor and indweller of my soul the Holy Spirit! The battle may wage for my mind, but I pray that every poke and prod of the enemy would be met with great resistance, and that unwanted unholy thoughts would be banished. Finally, when I do fail, as I do, as we all do, that repentance would be authentic and swift!

Get out of my head you devil!
You vile unwanted thought!
You keep trying to seep in,
Your desire by me to be caught.

You wish me to dwell on your poison.
To get caught up in lust of false dreams.
To waste away all my hours
Bring filth to what Christ has made clean!

How dare you, you whispering leech!
You masked, ugly, detestable thing!
Am I to believe you are harmless?
When it’s only destruction you bring!

I strike at you now with Christ’s word!
‘Get behind me Satan!’ I say.
You wish to breed in the darkness of night;
But I bare the light, as a child of the day!

Lord, I ask your wisdom and strength!
To take captive thoughts of my mind.
Let me dwell on the pure and the Holy!
Your words of truth on my heart I bind!

Let Me Introduce Myself.

I was asked to write a short bio of myself by a friend. Pretty sure this is not what they had in mind. But it’s what came out:

Let me introduce myself:

I’m a mom,
but that’s not who I am,
I’m a woman,
A wife a daughter a friend.

I am a wisp, a vapour,
A blink of an instant in time.
I am a drifter and flaky,
Sometimes I don’t know my own mind.

I am a child of the moment,
A silly and ridiculous thing.
I am a tone deaf creature,
Who loves to loudly sing.

All of these thing I am;
But this is not what I be.
I am a servant of Christ;
A captive who by him was set free.

I am a mother who strives to give,
My children and friends to God’s care,
Afraid but trusting in trials,
That God is already there.

A child of the King of forever,
A branch of a beautiful tree.
I am a wisp and a vapour,
Being written in eternity.

I don’t know my own mind at all,
I seek to follow his ways.
I fail and I am forgiven,
A stumbler most of my days.

A girl who can laugh at her folly,
I seek to become further wise.
This journey is great and vast,
I’ll be on it till the day I die.


I have been reading through the Old Testament lately, which I recommend, the Bible is so essential people, SO ESSENTIAL  to a knowledge and awareness of God! I have, in my reading, been again reminded of this profound encounter. I had this dream a few years ago but it has stuck with me. I don’t think I ever more related to the words of the prophet  ‘And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”(Isaiah‬ ‭6:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬) then after this encounter. I did not see God, only the vastness of space and, what I felt was, His Voice booming through the void. Yet the sentiment is the same. If I am ever tempted to take liberties with God, this dream comes to mind. I still fail, I still find myself forgetting the awesome, infinite, glory of the The Creator of all. But the balance of his grace and his glory is central in my worship of him. For the incomprehensible  knowledge of the depth of his sacrifice in never more awaken them by an almost unattainable awareness of his  greatness and Holiness. He is all! He is all!

In my mind and soul,
I hurtled through the dark.
Stars and planets past;
My contrasting smallness stark.

Awe and fear gripped me,
In the seeming endless depth.
I had no voice to speak.
No sound to give breath!

A sudden violent stop.
I floated in the void.
Was this to be my end?
My nerves were all destroyed.

Out from the expanse,
A voice loomed. Thundered.
The fear that came upon me,
Tore me all asunder.

The words they pierced my flesh!
On HOLY ground I trod.
They bellowed through eternity!

I awoke in a cold sweat.
Trembling head to soul.
Praising God almighty!
I was out of my control!

I believe dear reader,
That night I witnessed a sliver
Of the greatness of the Father,
Enthroned to reign forever!



A True Story: A Mother and her Five Long Suffering Children.

This is dated, it was written around Christmas. It’s not a poem. More like a glimps into my life.

The other night I decide to be a good mom and take my sweet sweet children to a Christmas fun night in town. The following depicts actual events:
7:00: this was the time K was supposed to arrive at her youth events pack shoe boxes, we were late things were tense
7:15: Finally on our way to drop off K. Half way up the hill to town I realized we had forgotten the shoe boxes. We turn around.
7:18: Due to admittedly obvious icy conditions and steep decline of the road I chosen to turn around on we found ourselves rather unable to get back on the highway. I decide to go further into the abyss hoping to find a place where my ill equipped tires can gain some traction.
7:25: now realizing the possible error of my previous decision. Moral is low, there is crying, a despondent A laments that we will never make it home (the home that is about a km away from where we are). S remains stoic, while T expresses repeatedly that he is ‘feeling frustrated’. K (12) offers to drive, either due to an over confidence in her natural driving ability, or a complete lack of confidence in my capabilities.
7:26: I realize I have no reception on my phone. I silently pray. We go further…
7:35: the van finds traction. Finally headed back home. At this point I consider throwing in the towel on our plans for the night, but sound judgement was obviously not my friend that night.
7:55: we drop K off ridiculously late at her youth event. We will pick her up later. My self and the remaining 4 kiddos head to the Christmas carnival.
8:05: Arrive at the Christmas carnival Sy our youngest, wants her face painted, she wants a Christmas tree on her face so bad she can taste it!
8:15: waiting in line
8:30: finally it is Sy’s turn to be face painted. Unfortunately it is at this point that Sy remembers she hates people, strangers especially. She screams at the face painter a 11 year old girl, (who probably never have children now) as if she is try to poison her. She does not get her face painted.
9:15: after wandering around and trying things we finally figure out that Santa is in a back room, Sy is excited. She has been wanting to see the jolly old elf for awhile. All we have to do is get her boots on, they had come off due to a need to dance don’t. She is three, it happens sometimes.
9:20: Boots on headed to see Santa
9:21: we walk into the room to see the back of Santa as he is undressing. Santa is heading back to his workshop in the North Pole. We’ve missed him.Sy is upset, and she shares her disappointment with everyone within a ten mile radius.
9:30: I get the kids and a very disappointed Sy (who,lets face it, would have probably just screamed at Santa) into the van. I look at the clock, the clock in the van. The clock that since the last time change has been stuck as a 24 hour clock. I lack the technical skills, and motivation to fix it. To read a 24 hr clock requires only the most rudimentary ability to do simple math. The clock reads 21:30 I need to pick K up around 9-9:30. I turn to the kids and say ‘wow that was quick it’s only 8:30, we have an almost an hour to waste until it’s time to pick up your sister. We’ll go to Walmart’
9:35: arrive at Walmart..
9:45: I receive a frantic call from K. The conversation goes as follows

K: Mom! Where are you?!?
Me: Oh are you done early?
K: What no, come get me…

9:46: The penny drops. 21:30 is 9:30 not 8:30!
9:47: frantically grab kids and book it to pick up K.
9:48: quietly sob a bit. And question my entire life and my ability to think, wonder how my kids have even survived..,
9:50: pick up K.
10:30: Home, kids in bed. I’m praying and saying Thank you God for this day, and wondering what I can specifically thank him for. Then I remember, as we sat in the dark, on the icy hill. My dear precious children, who have survived despite their incompetent mother, all told me after, that they had thought to pray  when we were stuck, just as I had.

10:31: crying cause I am so richly blessed.

she is ‘Getting Ready’ Now

She is starting to ‘get ready’ with care.
My little girl, not so little any more.
Things need to be done with her hair,
Before she will head out the door.

Fights over unbrushed hair are now flown.
Mismatched clothes a thing of the past.
She stands in the mirror on her own.
Checking her skin and her lips and her lash.

Lord bless us, no makeup just yet!
Just the early priming and pruning.
Still childhood has died a small death,
When she straightens her hair every morning.

Grow up not too fast my dear girl.
Don’t run so soon, or fast for that day.
When makeup and clothes and curls
Replace dirty, rough tumble play.

Let me hold your dear face in my hands,
Let me etch every line in my heart.
Our time seems to run like the sands.
As you and your childishness part.