Further Up and Further In

Burning prairie is What the ancestors feared Frantically beating the flames with water-soaked sacks Digging trenches in hardened earth Desperately trying to save their lives and livelihoods Now the prairie burns with purpose It burns to create new life Blackened land with Twisted branches and stumpy remains Of brush and plants Seemingly tell a despairing story Yet the tale has just begun Scorched soil absorbs sunlight Warmth stimulating plants to grow Green shooting up through the black Birds gather for the feast of insects The burning is rhythmic To keep out unwanted invasive plants Cleaning up and clearing out Restoring nutrients and resetting cycles Native plants know how to survive Their roots go deep  When fire sweeps over us Do our roots hold us steady? Are we used to the rhythms of purging that bring new life? How are we strengthened for the next growing season? The fire gives and the fire takes away Blessed be the burning of the prairie Written for the  May 2024  Pentecost RezA

This is the first post I didn't want to write. There have been posts that felt yanked out of me or that clawed their way to the surface. If I'm being honest, this is one I didn't really want to touch. Each year I choose a word to be my anchor, reminder of truth, aspiration, etc. and my word for 2023 was 'courage'. Writing plays a critical role in how I reflect and all the more so in how I look back on each year. But I haven't desired to look again on 2023 because I needed so. much. courage. I stared fear, heartbreak, uncertainty, and pain in the face in fresh ways. Yes, I made it through by the grace of God, but not without new scars and aching undercurrents that are still with me today. Why would I want to evoke it all again if I don't have to? Because that is courage. Courage  (n.) - the ability to do something that frightens one; strength in the face of pain or grief The root of the word, "cor", means 'heart' in Latin. Courage can also b

The candle I have held since I was a child Every year illuminating my world Has gone out I've tried to relight it But it... won't... stay... lit... Up on the altar I see the Advent candles burning brightly Week after week Purple. Perfect. Promising.  But they’re too far away I’m sitting in the back row They can’t rekindle my candle Let them bring peace and hope to someone else My candle is hidden away Tucked into a box of memories of what was I don a smile and give my kids their candles Telling them of the light they will have all their lives Smothering the grief and frustration within Their joyful smiles and fascination with fire Are almost enough for a change of heart Yet the memories of extinguishment are too strong I close my eyes, breathe, and soldier on We light the candles on Christmas Eve Their luminosity builds in the room The awe and delight are too much I can’t bear it and turn away Someone finds me They don’t say ‘where is your candle?’ Or ‘why are you here?’ They s

What is a thestral? It is a breed of winged horse with a skeletal body, a face of reptilian features, and wide leather bat-like wings. They are very rare and are found in the world of Harry Potter. They are mistaken for omens of aggression and misfortune because they can only be seen by those who have witnessed death at least once as Luna Lovegood explains. Seeing and experiencing some of the deepest tragedies and most broken areas of our world is no small thing. There are other ways to experience tragedy besides death such as addiction, loneliness, abandonment, abuse, trauma, racism, and more. We don't have thestrals in our world but you recognize someone who can also see one. You've experienced tragedy. You know what it means to fight for your right to live. You know what it's like to have your world irrevocably shattered. You have lost part of yourself that you will never get back. You are always on your back foot no matter how much you try to get ahead. That kind of cal

You can't step in the same river twice. You can't go home again. We've all tried to go back for something whether it was a relationship, a place, a memory, or an experience. We've tried to recapture that emotion; tried to bring something or someone back to life. I have done so only to realize that I couldn't recreate the conversation or hold onto the feelings. It wouldn't be the same. But maybe I didn't learn my lesson because I did go home again. Sort of.   I grew up in a residential recovery community called His Mansion Ministries. It's located on a 300+ acre working farm in New Hampshire and it's for men and women aged 18-35 who struggle with severe brokenness and life controlling behaviors and issues such as drugs, alcohol, certain mental health disorders, abuse, trauma, and pornography. My family lived and served there for nearly 11 years. I spent some of my most formative years at His Mansion. It was home. But... what is home? A place where I

Doesn't every relationship begin with being starry-eyed, Enamored, enchanted, infatuated? We began on hopeful terms 9 years ago You knew where you stood I was figuring out if I liked you or not You offered me the chance and I took it A year into the relationship The honeymoon phase had worn off It started to become more difficult But we worked through things I came out the stronger Year three was the hardest year yet Cynicism, busyness, and stress took their toll We even took a short break apart I appreciated you a lot more when we got back together The following year my world got shattered But you were there for me You stood by me as a support as everything else fell apart I don’t know what would’ve happened without you Yet I knew it was time to part ways We weren’t meant to be together any longer Which broke my heart Fast forward to two and a half years later You asked me to return to you and I did I was tentatively hopeful We both had changed and I didn’t know how we’d fit toget