God gives Victory

Deepest and warmest thanks to Jeffery Leon Photography for these priceless images of our family walking in the victory God’s given during a continually difficult season.

When I first heard this song by Kristene DiMarco, I wept with joy.
This has been our anthem for the year of 2017. I see our storyline flash before my eyes every time I listen or sing this song.

I am no victim
I live with a vision
I’m covered by the force of love
Covered in my Savior’s blood
I am no orphan
I’m not a poor man
The Kingdom’s now become my own
And with the King I’ve found a home
(And with the King I have a home)

He’s not just reviving
Not simply restoring
Greater things have yet to come
Greater things have yet to come

He is my Father
I do not wonder
If His plans for me are good
If He’ll come through like He should
‘Cause He is provision
And enough wisdom
To usher in my brightest days
To turn my mourning into praise

I am who He says I am
He is who He says He is
I’m defined by all His promises
Shaped by every word He says

Get Kristene’s “Where His Light Was” album here.

Continue reading “God gives Victory”



Believing for miracles is not foreign to me.

It wasn’t something I prayed into all my life, I grew up relying solely on the sovereignty of a far-off cosmic God and less on His willingness to answer my requests as my good Father.

In the past ten years I’ve come to lean on His ability to miraculously heal, provide, show up in power, change impossible circumstances etc.
Back when I’ve prayed and believed with others for Jesus to do impossible things, it was for disease to dissipate, for hearts to heal, for needs to be met, debts paid off.

He is faithful.

Lately we have again seen His hand work wonders greater than doctors expected, as we hoped.

Today we walk through a mine field of certainty in His work of complete healing in Allora’s body while being required to treat a disease we know He eradicated completely before the day 28 scans on her treatment roadmap.

Lately, my prayers look a little more like praying for impossible strength as a mama bear.
Strength to bear the most well intentioned people poisoning my child when I know in my heart of hearts she is, without any doubt, already cured.
Faith to believe in His ability to protect her from long and late side effects.
Peace that overwhelms a mother’s mind racing with possible outcomes from this un-editable roadmap of care.
Wisdom to know the difference between what we can and cannot change, and the ability to place it in His hands over and over again.

The answer most recently resounding in my spirit is it’s possible the only change that might come is a change in myself, in my own heart and worldview.

Could it be the miracle we’ll see now is when a person or a whole family, is pushed past what they feel is possible to bear, God Almighty bares His mighty hand and makes a desert place into a oasis?

Perhaps amidst the difficulty you’re facing, He wants to cultivate a gorgeous garden right in the middle of apparent or looming desolation.

The God of the impossible may seem silent to you, all the while His miracle working hand is quietly carving out (( inside of you )) a way where there was no way before.

Maybe your surrendered heart,
from the deepest place,
is the biggest miraculous gift of all
in your hardest, darkest circumstance.


Every parent finds their children extraordinary.

As I watch her walk her road I find myself marveling at her courage, grit and resilience, wondering if all children in her situation bear it this way?

An eternal paternal Voice whispers in response,

“No one can respond to any circumstance identically to another. There is absolutely no one exactly like her in all of ages past and those to come.”

I nod in response to this quiet truth and ponder.

He gently continues,

“The words you speak over her through this are My words to any of My children facing hardship:

‘I know you can do this.

I am very proud of you.

I love you so high, so wide, so deep.

Deep breaths, I am with you.

I see it hurts and you don’t like it, neither do I.

This will be over soon.

It won’t be like this forever.

You are so strong.

It’s ok to feel sad, I feel sad too.

I can hold you if you want Me to.

I will stay with you the whole time.’

If you’re facing something that feels unbearable or insurmountable, hear Him championing you to courage, His darling child.

Let the ultimate loving Parent steady your heart through the storm.

a surrender nobody would have chosen

It’s one thing to say you’re not afraid
when your season puts nothing,
or in this case, no little one,
you love at stake.

It’s another thing when you’re face to face
with what any person dreads and you’re shocked to find that
despite the loud, extremely real threats of crippling fear,
your heart is filled to the brim with Hope instead.

It’s B R A V E R Y beyond humankind, a grace born of another age.
It’s strength in weakness no one can dare to boast of.
Circumstance has pressed out a surrender nobody would have chosen.

The fragrance that rises from a hurting, yet hopeful, heart is a
“Not my will, but Yours be done” aroma.

into a garb of praise for those wrapped up in heaviness…
on faces covered with ashes…
the deepest groans for the sweetest melodies.

When He sees death and fear making empty threats at our doorway,
He LAUGHS til they crawl back into the pit they came from, forever.
Fear and death’s tomb is empty:
take a good look at their bankruptcy,
their game is merely shadows.

Hope is a Man with an actual heartbeat.
His lungs are alive and breathing today.
Hope Himself shouts over and over (louder than fear’s tall tales):

“Drop fear into its coffin and take up courage instead!

I never stop fashioning,
and filling to the brim
the hearts I call home,

this is My pleasure, glory, and honor.”




unbreakable spirits in these three
our hearts still all beat
wild//free family
though the sterile clean
of hospital rooms loom

we will in our hearts
traipse a wide open place
exploring at our own pace
where the
meet a vastly blue space

when iv’s + blood draws
put trailblazing on pause
we still feel the warm sun
(or the Son who’s our Light
not fluorescent, man made,
the Origination of bright)

so hook her up
keep us in til we’re crazed
but nothing will phase
these sweet non-chemo days

we heal as we
as we roam

Because He never leaves
no matter what//where we go
(remind me in case my memory’s flown)
with Him deep within
we will always be home.

fear or flow

Don’t be afraid of what they say.
They who criticize when you share the pain,
they who give a side eye if you meditate on what’s good.
Who are they to define authenticity?
Fear fuels criticism and harsh judgement.

Only God judges rightly with perspective to a heart’s intent.
Don’t get wrapped up in Fear’s game, step into Love’s rhythm.
Simply be true to how your Maker made you.
Be free to express the difficulty you’re facing AND the beauty you’re finding.
Often they’re one and the same: great and terrible hold hands some days.

If you dam up a river, it turns into stagnant water.
Let it rush freely, with grace before the One from whom all blessings flow.
Just don’t be afraid, you are already brave.

The vulnerability of any creative expression is courageous and powerful.
Allow the overflow.
It’s not really for them anyway, though it’s so precious when someone connects to the signal you’re emitting. 
Enjoy it.

Keep in mind, critics who provoke fear will always be around,
never let them stop up the current from within.
It’s not theirs, you see, it’s yours to guard, keep and release.

beyond a shadow

Words fail me lately.

My daily journal page often holds only this short phrase that provokes grateful tears every stinking day:

“We’re gonna be ok.”

Some days I’m wanting that truth to sink in a little deeper so the phrase ends with a question mark and other days I feel unshakably convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt.

There’s obviously gut wrenching pain for a family with a pediatric cancer diagnosis and I won’t elaborate on that right now.

One upside is any given morning we might be helping her get blood drawn to determine if she’s ready to start chemo tomorrow and that same night we could be watching her pick wildflowers with her brothers knowing we have at least three more days to just be together before being hospitalized.

I share because these are beautifully rich days.

Moments upon moments pass by full of hidden wonder, mundane rhythms, and tears that I don’t document but I know heaven does. I want to look back on this instance someday, remember, and see where His light was.