Twice a year I dive into a time of writing to connect with my Savior in the most intimate way I know how: poetry. During the seasons of Advent and Lent I set aside time to write each day, and I always find myself drawing closer to God by the end. In the many years since I began the exercise, my “poetry seasons” were ones of returning to my roots and reconnecting with my Savior, and I’ve come to enjoy the challenge of writing consistently in the midst of chaos. However, it’s been difficult the last couple years to even finish, due to a lack of discipline or an abundance of distractions or both. Though it’s only a personal goal that very few people in my life even know about, the disappointment of seeing unfinished days on the calendar last Advent and this year during Lent is what prompted me to finally share my journey with others. After all, as the wise King Solomon said, “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10).
As the old year fades away and the new year dawns, we look forward to new opportunities and brighter days ahead. I’ve titled this collection Liminal Space because Advent represents a time of transition, of waiting on the threshold, of being between what was and what’s to come. I feel it’s an apt description of my own life both presently and in a metaphorical sense, and I know there are many others who find themselves in a period of waiting on the threshold of something. My hope is that through reading my work, others may be drawn closer to the One who beckons them to take that step of faith into the “what’s to come.”
Residue | Day 1
Like the last vestiges of a dream
That cling even when I wake
You are here
Your spirit hovering over
The waters of my soul
Beckoning me in to Your glory
Your presence fills me
Like the dawn breaking
A burst of light so powerful
That darkness flees in its wake
You are here
Even in the drowsiness
Even while the rest of the world
Slumbers
And you linger in the space between
Heaven and earth
Afternoon Psalm | Day 2
Let my praise be like
Sinking into the kitchen chair
After the long morning of
Toddlers and newborns
Boogers and tears
Songs and tantrums–
Relief, like meeting an old friend
Or a refreshing spring rain
Necessary, like the breath in my lungs
Or the hunger for You
Anticipated, like the arrival of a package
Or the coming of a king
Mementos | Day 3
We think of love as
Butterflies and flowers
The feeling of happiness
Of commitments and vows
But love is less picturesque
More gritty
Love is wiping snotty noses all day
Doing dishes after hours
Waking in the dead of night
To meet some unseen need
Love is apologizing for harsh words
Admitting fault
Going the extra mile
When my feet are aching most
Love is found in the dirt
On the knees of those
Asking for healing
Receiving blessings
Bowing before their King
It’s displayed in a wooden cross
And a long walk uphill
In sacrificing self for a world
Who laughed in the face of its Savior
Renewal | Day 4
Sometimes it’s not the amount of hope
But merely that it’s present
That keeps us going another step
Small pinprick
Or floodlight
Are both as effective at
Kindling revival
That is the nature of hope
It renews and rejuvenates
In the midst of darkness
For without the night
We can’t appreciate
The morning’s light
Returns | Day 5
We often don’t think
Our efforts will make any difference
That the work we put in
Will amount to anything
Because sometimes the returns
Are initially so small,
Pennies on dollars spent
And ungrateful glances
For hours of thoughtful preparation
And if left up to us,
None of it would matter
Because the returns we gain
Aren’t of a physical nature
But of the kind that won’t
Tarnish or fade
Empty Page | Day 6
Hope abounds on the empty page
So full of potential and life
The place where I can come before You–
Stripped of all pretenses–
And bare my soul to You
No ink to clutter up my thoughts
No prior touch to sway me
Here is where I find the space
To approach and be seen
Before the pen ever touches down
You were writing my story
Before the first word was conceived
You spoke life
You crafted the words to bring
Dead things to life
To fill the void with light
The empty page is where You make Your mark,
The blank canvas of my soul
Ratios | Day 7
How quickly the flower fades
When placed next to eternity
Truly just a breath of wind
That arrives and vanishes by morning
How small a pearl inside its shell
When viewed inside the vast ocean
Truly such an insignificant thing
That hides away in its cocoon
How dimly the candle gives its glow
When tandem with the sun
Truly its light appears dark
Compared to the celestial source
How softly the rain meets the earth
When the drought is remembered
Truly even that which is hard
Can bring blessing on the wings of its coming