Knees // Peter and Kerry


“This can’t just be a chemical for now any other pain is bearable”    …

Continue reading “Knees // Peter and Kerry”

Knees // Peter and Kerry

A morning devotional

This morning I woke early to relearn how to start my days present with the Lord.


In an attempt to stay awake through a time of stillness, I made breakfast first. I scrambled eggs and spinach and just as I was about to eat it, I lost my appetite. So I moved onto oatmeal. And then that exploded in the microwave.

After scooping up the half-cooked oatmeal and putting it back in the mug (which I know from previous explosions is too small for the microwave) and then eating it, I closed myself off to the world and to my phone with a journal, a bible and the book of common prayer.

But the devotional was kinda like eating the remnants of an oatmeal explosion–scattered and not quite right. And I’m looking at my day and not so sure how to breathe at the work and exhaustion I have ahead of me.

But isn’t this the thing with spiritual disciplines? Sometimes, we don’t see their immediate effect. Sometimes we do, and it can be very frustrating to move from a time of visible growth with the Lord into a time where frustration and ineffectiveness seem to be the most accurate words to describe the spiritual life.

But it isn’t ineffectual, and frustration is an earthly emotion that is void of both peace and joy.

This is a promise to myself to keep on getting up early; to keep on re-centering my life upon the cross (or at least making a consistent effort) and to remember that my assessment of how God is working right now is very limited. And probably wrong.

A morning devotional



Two pools reflect sun. Sitting encased in the mountain ridges, their waters look like I could walk on them; their waves are paved gold. The glare blinds, but I cannot look away. Light draws me in; I look closer. The mountain waters stream into the golden pools and I see the solid paved waters moving as if they breathed.

I know those mountain streams.


“thou mayest” (today I read East of Eden by a stream in a park)

It took the Chinese men 16 years to learn what I learned at age five when I threw my most deliberate fit. I was unsure of what I wanted but I knew if I flailed my fresh, young body and cried loud, peace-breaking tears then I could get it (whenever I discovered what “it” was).


I learned it at age sixteen when I decided to close my heart and mind to God and mother until the window opened and I learned to listen to the birds.

I learned it at age eighteen when I loved in pride against counsel. But as the pride began to die (only one can win in the battle of true love and pride) , and the counsel grew to a hush, it was only me before The Lord and I chose to turn around.

I learned it this morning when I woke up and did everything I could think of before kneeling to the LORD. But he was still there, saying “thou mayest”. And so I bowed and we began to unclench fists and unblind eyes.

|east of eden| page 301 | Steinbeck centennial edition | 9 oct 2014 |

“thou mayest” (today I read East of Eden by a stream in a park)