The place where ash lays: Sleep

Blood drips, ash lays gently in the misted of a battle. The camera shifts revealing those who scamper away from horror trying to locate safety. Amongst this calamity some men fight while others emerge stunned and lost. I slump against my chair, watching the war story unfold. I am mystified.

Fleeing comrades I can sympathize with. Fight men, wow, I’m enthralled by their courage but the idiots who doing nothing? How inept are they? Wake up from your slumber be a man, be a woman, and progress beyond fear.

Choking on popcorn cornels . ….. The “do nothing soldiers” convict me. Asleep: never awakened to Gods depth, Afraid: pondering where he will lead... they are numb. Maintaining a relationship with God is more than love. It is determination.... past yellow brick roads and candy canes to the place where ash lays…..


God be real to me. Force me to fight…. to see you for who you are. Never allow me to forget the war that surrounds my world, the war that is within me. awaken those who sleep

Matthew 11:12 And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.

Drop:Control

…. In her exasperation my mom forgets how to be gentle; her hand tightens as she pries each lid apart with her fingers. Liquid fire surrounds my eye. What twenty-three year old needs an adult to place allergy eye drops in her eye? … I wish I could forfeit the humiliation and panic created by this situation. Individual eyelashes are molded together, I cannot see.

Ignoring an eye sight malfunction because I would rather be in control is foolish. Through blurred tears I glimpse my mom snickering at me, I’m relieved… The liquid fire has cooled. Ashley you should have used Allergy Drops two months ago instead of waiting, her voice tilts on confusion. A squashy pillow sets boundaries between us; I groan and lean against it.

Why let time rush beyond me never adhering to the liquid fire God desires to cover my vision with? Fear, pride, insecurities entangle themselves together but I ignore their probe. You’re silly, both God and my mom chorus. The last drop caresses me. Letting go of my control I agree with them.

24 Rose Petals: Compassion

I ponder your face in the rose petals
One two three they tumble
Four five six they collapse
Unresponsive and hated

Do I stop?
Paste what has fallen?
Stagger away from you remembered?

Seven eight nine they tumble
Ten eleven twelve they collapse
Unresponsive and hated

Do I continue?
Weep at what has tortured me?
Stagger away from you forgotten?

Thirteen fourteen fifteen they tumble
Sixteen seventeen eighteen they collapse
Unresponsive and hated

I ponder my face in compassions petals
Nineteen twenty twenty-one they tumble
Twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four they collapse
You are who I used to be
Unresponsive and hated


(While my poem could be interrupted several different ways) I Believe, the concept is true…. there is always something… we can hate about our selves or the people around us (most of the time what we hate in other people is what we used to be). But God in his love gives us compassions petals. Don’t be afraid to pass them along.

Holding Beauty;Dreams

I stare at the little girl in font of me. . what a pleasing picture, her hand wrapped around her fathers’ thumb, while He holds her tightly. This is real enchantment, a father’s love for his daughter. Worship music ushers in Gods presences. I lift my hands and close my eyes.

But the little girl, continues to captivate my thoughts. Something doesn’t fit. . Startled, I realized what I’m missing. The girl wasnt INSTANTLY beautiful she BECAME beautiful.. Nine months of WAITING, morning sickness, lying awake at night worrying, followed by PAIN birthed this child. Such are all things with God…. time and labor equaling love.

I open my eyes, those around me sing “How Great is Our God” as an angle turns from her daddy and waves. I find my self waving back … yes, beauty does exist after ashes.Dreams are real, but how many times do i quit before i get to hold them?


For those of you who are in the “ wait & pain” period don’t give up…. one day you will hold your dreams. Isaiah 61:3 to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, that beauty should be given unto them instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of the spirit of heaviness: that they might be called terebinths of righteousness, the planting of Jehovah, that he may be glorified.