Being a Christian means making sure our manner reflects the God we claim to represent. Words lose credibility when our lives contradict them. A Christian’s light should look like compassion, truthfulness, humility, courage, mercy, and care for people who are vulnerable. When I try to control what everyone is allowed to believe I wonder whether…
When your mood feels like a color and the color is black. Not the elegant black of a little dress or the bold black of fresh ink. This is the black that swallows the edges of reality. The black that turns the loud ticking clock into a distant hum. The black that hangs like thick…
Men love to say women are too emotional. Yet the last few years have given us some of the loudest and most irrational tantrums I have ever seen from men. Did you know a person can repeat a lie so often that the line between what they invented and what they remember can begin to…
Wonder It keeps us curious. It’s a reminder that the universe holds an infinite number of surprises. When we are born everything is new and full of wonder. A face, a sound, a patch of sunlight on the wall. Everything starts with a question and as we grow and collect answers our wonder becomes quieter.…
Sometimes it feels like the ground, the sky, even your own soul are falling away and you’re left face to face with all the pain you spent years trying not to feel. You tell yourself if you pretend hard enough that it didn’t happen. That you will be fine. Spoiler Alert: You won’t be. So…
Every opinion is a feast For a ready made Come and go audience Applause available No matter the wisdom And we’ve given our kids Hungry pockets They carry the world inside Connection… Feels less connected They confuse being seen For being known Being followed For being loved Being heard For being understood Being kind Kills…
POET BIO: Claire is a very colorful person. To her living life in “full color” represents emotional richness, diversity, and authenticity. She may seem aloof but only because she gets lost inside the vibrancy of life all around her. Her mind moves like watercolor turning ordinary moments into art. She doesn’t just see color she…
Where “woke” came from and went to
The bleary comes To meet the weepy Before sitting down Next to sleepy So I try to find A place to rest Where peace And calm exist But all to often Moody comes With sad To steal Whatever’s left
Identity changes Melts and freezes Speeds up Then slows Like breath Fogging windows Like rain Catching fire Like milk Becoming bitter Like smiles Stuck like Velcro A robot lost Programming Deleted Identity changes Until I find me Yet again
