Hello Caris!

For the things that haven’t come and may never will

Friday, November 14th 2014 • Letters To Nobody

And that includes you, Autumn. And winter. In this sunshine-brimming tropical space.

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When God Becomes An Artist

Saturday, November 8th 2014 • Devotion Diaries

Many, LORD my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare.
Psalm 40:5

Artists need a few basics to start off with their drawings, mainly a dot and few lines. We use them as a guide to form shapes, body parts and emotions; the rest of the details are founded by a few simple scrawls. That’s how we do it. Nothing magnificent appears like magic in an instant.

God does not draw with just lines. He draws with mountains. Planets. Stars. Galaxies. Every drop is a universe and every universe is a drop. Talk about grand! This Artist knows how to be extravagant, and His work is beyond the numbers we use to measure. Yep. Big things, I tell you. So big that you wouldn’t be able to see the whole picture with your own two human eyes.

Can you just imagine what He’s drawing just for you? What He’s drawing inside you?

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Home is a feeling and I am a wanderer

Monday, November 3rd 2014 • Poems for Nobody

You say home is a feeling and I
am a wanderer
looking for a place to
stay

There are empty houses left
solitary
when mortgages are not
paid on time

Windows are shattered and walls
are vandalized
by thief and trespassers, taking hearts
and body parts

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I’m Telling You Right Now, Go

Tuesday, October 28th 2014 • Poems for Nobody

go. you don’t need someone
to tell you when to take
a step

there’s no one to push you on
the road you need to travel

listen to your gut-feel, to the
beating of your heart

when it starts to whisper
“it is time.”
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A Letter To Someone Who Probably Wouldn’t Read It

Tuesday, October 21st 2014 • Letters To Nobody

First things first: I’m sorry.

I wasn’t there when everything happened, all at once. When you were lured into a pool of bad thoughts, of hatred, of cusses and curses people around you salivate with. I wasn’t there when you first had a curio of blood, when you thought of pinning a blade on your skin, when you started making friends with death. I wasn’t there when you were suck in a vacuum of anger, of hate, of frustration. When you look at yourself in the mirror and cease to believe you are beautiful.

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