When Poetry Fails

It’s a dangerous business. This blogging thing. Perhaps not for some. But for me. Today I have no prose. Why then? Why form the words on the page?


1. Obedience in faith. I’m just lopsided enough to believe God talks to me and I actually believe He told me to write for a season. But the initial gratification of obedience has wore thin and in tandem the sinking suspicion that more than my parents are reading this has rendered me mute. And so it goes that there is a difference between striving in my flesh and fighting through the funk. It seems to me that I am in the latter and this is my fight. 

2. She told me I should. The fact of the matter is I have some amazing friends. Friends that others go their whole lives without having. But it’s no good having good people in your life if you don’t listen to them. So today, I’m going to trust a good friend, heed her advice and write.

3. I’m giving myself permission to not be okay. I am holding out for some promises and some breakthroughs right now. There are some things in my life that need to/are going to shift but they have not yet shifted. And I am “weary in doing good”? In laymen’s terms I’m a hot mess. I’m tired, beset and angry. As such, old coping mechanisms have started their siren song to lure me toward the rocky shores of destructive mindsets. So I’ve decided to forgive myself for not looking/feeling rested, gentle, or even admirable today. Turns out I’m up to my knees in mud and blood as I wage an internal war on my own misguided nature- plugging my ears and throwing my full weight against the wheel as I wait for Him to bring me to that safe harbor. And I do believe He will. He always has. 

4. She’s hurting too. I stood in a room of women today. They were being delivered great information with enthusiasm and transparency. But just as in weeks past I saw the heaviness in their souls. The strain to believe and receive anything that was being said- held captive by the guards of shame, fear and unbelief. And shackled by weariness and good intentions. My passion to see a tangible, liberating touch from God must have leaked out because one of the women found me and as I hugged her she started to cry. I’m confident they were the same tears I cried this morning. Our trials, our pains, can seem so personal- so specific to us but as it turns out- most things are common to man. I hope in writing I give her permission to not be okay too as she waits in faith.  

5. A prayer for prose. Though I don’t have the poetic, profound voice of the LORD for my trial yet today I can pray… pray for you, and for me as I did for her-

 Jesus, thank you that you chose to reveal yourself to us in the middle of the storm. That we don’t only see you when it’s quiet but in the midst of being buffeted. Keep us stayed upon the waves and vigilant for Your coming. Confident that you will not abandon us part of the way through. I love you and ask that you break through quickly giving rest to those who need it. Liberate troubled and weary hearts today and be glorified in our broken faith. Thank you for not being so lofty that you refuse to crawl into our rickety boat and yet being so mighty that there’s no storm you can’t calm. Please reveal yourself to me again today.  


Mark 6: Jesus Walks on the Water


45 Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray.

47 Later that night, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. 48 He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. Shortly before dawn he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, 49 but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, 50 because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” 51 Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed,


And Because This Seems to Be an Anthem of My Heart Right Now

“Oceans” By: Hillsong United



3 thoughts on “When Poetry Fails

  1. Maybe it didn’t sound like prose from where you are but it is lyric here, you strike a chord in so many mother’s hearts. Don’t quiet your music when the chords turn somber, we would all be the worse for it. God is with you and in you and through you. You are in my prayers.

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