Wednesday 27 September 2017


This Poem first appeared on Altarwork 
The picture of Father dropping seeds, feeding things, the sound of the creaking, unoiled gate at the bottom of the garden. The sinking feeling of not knowing how to come home, but the shining light that illuminates His face. These images are a part of me. I see this poem so clearly, having entered that gate 15 years ago, I'm just caught up by His face. And the Love that's never changing from His Heart, I needed to share this poem right here... 

 Father. Framed in black and white, ​
your smile captures the light on a broken window pane.​
Father. Bag in hand, other hand open. Lifted high.​
Seeds for others to eat, light – laced seed, ​
feeding the world’s forgotten things.​
Feed. ​
Father. There is a gate at the opposite end of the yard, it is open.​
Is there space for me to slip in?​
Let’s talk over by the body of water that resembles a pool.​
Draw near. Our faces wrinkled in the water’s gaze.​
We look the same.​
Our reflection in water’s grace, smile at the sameness of our eyes.​
Father. Framed by light. Squint my eyes and you fade into the dark shadows.​
Correct my sight and you fill the scene.​
Bathed in the fires flame. ​
Hands open Wide.​
I enter the gate at the bottom of the yard. Tired.​
You hear the steel, it’s different from most who enter.​
Smile. You turn, it’s me. I’m home.​
Here, embraced.​
Forget all else, you turn because it’s me. ​
Your eyes filled with my broken need.​
I’m coming home to you.​

Tuesday 26 September 2017

The Girl in the Pink Dress

“Both my parents are dead,” she said with her smiling voice, “they died from AIDS.”
“Oh,” the man replied. “That must have been hard for you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have AIDS.”

The man paused and I listened more intently, wondering where this conversation would go, wondering how the man, an older, experienced psychologist, would respond.

Her hair was shaved, her faded pink dress snug for her adolescent body. Her smile was big and her face held light but she was one of the numerous others just like her, an orphan because of AIDS....

These are the hard stories, the stories we have to tell because they are the truth, orphans, child-headed families and how to bring hope, I'm writing about it over at Off the Page. Join me!

Saturday 9 September 2017

Surviving Childhood Sexual Abuse - Podcast

My podcast series is on going over on my authors website, but I had to share this recent one, a conversation with Crystal Sutherland. Crystal has such a gentleness about her and so much of our conversation has stayed with me. She is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, and she has shared her story in her book, Journey to Heal. This book outlines seven steps for hope and healing for anyone who has been a victim of sexual trauma. She has an online bible study and leads retreats and conferences for women. In this podcast we discuss her journey, her book, what the church can do to help survivors and a lot more. I am grateful to Crystal for sharing her story, and for sharing it so that the body can receive truth about sexual abuse. You can listen to this podcast over here: