At the sight

(My, my, this one is long. Please do your best to stay with me.)


When I was a little girl

I saw monsters

Jeering at me at night

In the darkness of my room

When my door came unhinged

And lunged at me

And snow fell from the ceiling

And wolves growled beside my bed

And demons danced around me


Maybe they were demons

Maybe I hallucinated

My mom came in one night

When I was crying

Don’t fall in”

I told her

Don’t fall into the crack

In the floor”


As I got a bit older

The hallucinations stopped

And were replaced by nightmares

Every night

Like any other little kid

As I started to understand the world

Just a bit more

As I grew up


I remember the nightmares

A scorpion the size of a dinner plate

With the face of a woman

I remember

A cobra

Waiting to bite me

As I fell from my top bunk

I remember

Coming home

And the gored body parts

Of my pet hamster

Lying around my house


I grew yet older

I remember my best friend

Who turned on me

Because she needed me to stay

And I misunderstood

What she needed

I remember

A head injury at her house

That haunted me

For a reason I still don’t know

And yet it still haunts me


I remember

Crying on my bed in the dark

Depressed, hopeless, selfish

Depressed for years


I don’t remember

The years before

I don’t remember

What it was like

To be young and innocent

And not struggle with depression


I remember

Finding God

In that darkness

Hand outstretched

Compassion pouring

From His gaze

And those holy fingers

Opened my eyes

And the nightmares

Had been demons

And the hallucinations

Had been demons

And they fled

When my Lord took hold

Of my heart


And I cried

And I cried

And Jesus lifted me from

The darkness of my childhood

Lifted me from

The trauma

Of my head injury

And He’s beautiful

So beautiful

So beautiful


His touch

The sweetest



That took my burden

That sat me in His lap

And showed me the beautiful things

In this dark, dark world


I grew up

And I changed

And the world changed

And everything changed

And times came

And times went

But God stayed

God stayed

And His love

Sheds light

On darkness


And the darkness flees

And the demons run

And Satan pales

And Hell scabs over


At the sight

At the sound

At the mention

Of the Lord’s





Picture courtesy

Song by Phil Wickham courtesy on


Wind at midnight

So, I wrote this poem on March 10, 2011 — earlier this year.  Weird how “this year” will soon turn to “last year.”  Time can sure be scary.

Anyway, this poem describes perfectly, I think, what I was feeling.  Mind you, the “wind” I speak of wasn’t necessarily a beautiful thing.  It was my conscience, my God, speaking to me, trying to get my attention.  I was depressed — REALLY depressed — and I blocked Him out.  But for some reason, I wrote this poem.  I didn’t know what the “wind” was.  I had no idea, really.  But I knew it was important.  So here it is.  And I know what it is, now.


The wind blows through

my mind;


Sometimes it comes

at midnight,

When I can’t fall asleep;


It comes subtly at first,

like a raindrop


And translucent

And misty,


And sometimes I don’t notice.


Other times, it’s a flood —

it drenches me

And I cannot breathe.


One day maybe I’ll awake

And I’ll understand

what it has to tell me.



Picture courtesy

The intimidation of the present.

These days, I constantly freak myself out by thinking – maybe this, right now, is all that exists, is really all the time I spend, and anything else is merely an idea, a dream, an illusion; unreal.

I’m serious. Haven’t you ever had those moments when you start to doubt time, reality, and memory?

Like, maybe your entire past never really happened, and you have no future. Maybe the chair you sit on, the air you breathe, everything in life is all an illusion. You’re just crazy – maybe the only person in existence. Maybe a crazy person. Maybe nobody you know is actually real.

And, perhaps most disturbing of all, maybe everyone around you, everyone you know, aren’t experiencing the present at the same time you are. Like, your present is right now, at this age and this year – but THEIR present is 60 years in the future, when all of “your” present has already happened long ago. Or, maybe they’ve already died; and yet here they are, standing before you, alive and in their past. Or maybe they aren’t even born yet, don’t exist in their “present.”

I mean, it’s possible, right? A little strange, a little weird-sounding – but, really, God is eternal, right? God can experience everyone’s present at the same time.” That’s how I reason with myself at times. But at the same time, I know it’s a lie. But I feel doubt.

It’s a very eerie feeling I get when I contemplate that stuff. A very lonely feeling.

Sometimes, I know it’s a spiritual attack, when those thoughts pop into my mind and torment me. There’s no way I can know the answer to these dilemmas. I become doubtful of every single thing in existence.

At those times, it’s all I can do to plant myself firmly in the present, my present. I remind myself that God doesn’t change, ever, and He is not trapped in a time line like I am. Even if I feel doubtful of time, God doesn’t. God is forever.

So, I cling to Him desperately, avoiding the abyss of doubt, depression, fear, and anxiety. I cling to Him while time swirls all around me, moments passing in a hurricane; past gone and spent. I will not let go of my God, lest time crush me in its jaws until I die – then it is gone, and I have no one to save me.

“And you shall remember the LORD your God, for [it is] He who gives you power to get wealth, that He may establish His covenant which He swore to your fathers, as [it is] this day.” (Deuteronomy 8:18  NKJV)



Painting “The Persistence of Memory” by Dali — this copy courtesy