In that moment in time.


I sat on the bed

near the window,

pressing my forehead against the glass.

I sat staring at the trees across the street–

full green, blowing,

swaying in the clean winds of Spring.

I heard the familiar barking of my best friend’s collie.

The way the light filtered through the leaves

moved something deep within me,

like a lost memory just out of my grasp~

a longing making its way up

out of the darkness that flooded my soul.

The thought was barely a whisper–a vapor,

“There must be more.”

More to life,

more reason to live on this earth.

More than a nine year old could see

in her helpless sadness,

her empty despair.

That moment is forever etched in my mind.

Now older and wiser,

looking back through the years

I see where God was working,

planting a hope in my heart

A stirring in my soul.

A gentle hand beneath my chin

lifting my head–bringing my eyes up to see

outside that window,

that room,

that house,

that tomb.

His creation was testifying to my young broken heart,

telling me of of His faithfulness,

His goodness,

His beauty.

It was a tiny, tiny, tiny seed,

but it found root in the deepest part of me.

“There must be more.”

There. must. be. more.

Something bigger than the confines of my life

in that moment in time.

Something worth waiting for,

living for.

I couldn’t call it faith for I had no words,

no understanding.

Just a whisper of a longing

as I watched the light flickering

on the leaves of the trees across the street,

changing shadows into brightness before my eyes

as I rested my forehead

against the glass

of  the window

by the bed.

@2017 belinda


It’s not a small thing.


Just you, Lord. And me. No big stage with lights and people watching. Just you. And me. That is enough. All the songs and dances expressing the deep passion of my soul are for just you. And me.

My heart is your stage. My life is yours to command. To direct. To use.

Between us there is the love that I lay as an offering for you…to you. It is small and human and weak, but I pour it out on the stage trying not to judge myself harshly when I know it is so paltry.

Compared to you. To your love that is so strong and deep and loud and soft like a melody and like a waterfall. Like the ocean and like the wind.

But my love pours out like drops of dew and rolls about upon the stage.

But you don’t hate it.

Like all of my tears, you gather my love and you give me yours.

Your love in my heart is like a rain on the desert. So grateful am I. I receive it. And it isn’t like water at all. It’s like oil and perfume and power–like life. Electric and full of strength.

Not at all like my human love that is mixed with need and wanting and sadness. Confused and polluted by my desires and the questions and the lies lodged in my heart like a rotting thing in a desert stream that taints the water as it flows.

Your love is clean and life-giving, healing and beautiful. Changing everything it touches. Life springs forth from Your love.

Your love is not a small thing, not a weak thing. It is everything. I mean it is the most important thing. All that I need. I wish that I could explain it better. I wish that everyone could understand and know Your love.

A Mother Wound


My children~

you have created a mother from a girl

demanded everything I am.

And I came willing

turned myself inside out to find enough to give you.

My mind, my heart, my will, my strength was needed

every moment from that first piercing cry~~you needed.

I searched and found a love to give you, to feed you, to keep you.

In a broken heart I found it beating

and gave it all, not retreating

left my walls and dropped my guard

because you needed.

my life was needed

I was defeated

by the innocence

those tiny fingers and chubby feet

You touched me

In the dark you found me

turned on a light inside me

I built my world around you.

Through all your years I stumbled, fell and struggled.

Lacking strength and wisdom

running in the dark,

I tumbled,

dropped the ball and bumbled

But my heart beat on in wonder

at the wonder of you~and all you could do.

Your eyes they sparkled

set my heart on fire

they’ve undone me

You are my child

from your life’s first moment

I adored you,

gave my heart right to you,

loved that I knew you.

You were my sunshine in the rain

I dared the world to to hurt you

stood against the storm that came near you

Heard the thunder,

felt the pain,

knew the lightning when it came

I tried to save you.

fought against it all to keep you

didn’t see how much it hurt you

wanted to protect you

but lost the battle…

on my knees I watched as it broke you

swept you out beyond my grasp

I watched you tumble

my heart went under

ripped asunder.

An empty quiet sits inside me.

Where are my babies?

Don’t they need me?

Oh relieve me

my mother heart is weeping.

I once was everything you needed

I thought you loved me

The story in my head was different

from the one I’m hearing.

I was less than you needed

all my efforts are found lacking

and I see your faces

so familiar

and your eyes accusing

and your words are searing

and my heart is breaking

as you pull away forever

~~no longer needed

Just an empty hull

as my child emerges

grows wings and separates completely

I stand there bleeding

beyond repair

my soul despairs

my heart laid bare.

A mother wound is precious

I can still see your impression

where you laid upon my heart

and where I loved you.

You are gone now

but I still hold you

in my heart I see you

Those eyes that sparkled when you saw me

loved me

when I was your world.

I ask forgiveness

not of you, but of God

I had six idols whom I worshiped

not on purpose

but no excuses

As I emerge from beneath the surface

Gasp for air and then release it

God forgive me

and I thank you.

you let me have them

to love and know them

forever changed, I gave them

good and bad

I laid my heart before them

and how I loved them.

@2017 belinda

becoming me


Dear Belinda,

Dear Belinda. This month you are turning 55. I have seen the days of your life play out before you through all of these years. While you have focused on your failures and unrealized expectations, I have  watched strength and beauty take root in you.  You have fought your way through depression, anger and self-hatred to find acceptance, forgiveness and surrender in the truth of Jesus. You bravely laid down your wall of protection and let God shine His light on your wounded heart. All the love you worked so hard to give to others passed through your festering pain. Until you yielded. You invited God to search your heart and find any hurtful way in you. You admitted. You accepted responsibility. You confessed. You did the hard work of surrendering your will to obedience to Christ. And God met you at every point of surrender. As you laid down each idol and turned your face towards Him, He was there. His gifts exceed every expectation. His perfect love in exchange for your selfish love. His protection for your wall of pride and denial. His Word, living and active, piercing and separating, revealing and setting you free. Free to forgive. Free to love. Free to set boundaries. Free to let go. Free to trust Him to know everything and justly rule on your behalf. Calmly laying down your flesh wrapped in grave clothes, no longer a slave to sin. A child of God. Working out your salvation every moment by searching for His footprints and placing your feet in His path. Not to find salvation…that is completed by Jesus. But to learn to follow Him and to grow up into the fullness of Christ by the power of His Holy Spirit working in you. To allow Love to grow in your heart. To humble your SELF before Him as He sits on the throne of your heart. You have found your place at His feet where you can freely worship Him and pour out your grateful tears at His beautiful feet that stepped down into the ugliness of your life without flinching, without scorn, and lifted you out of the pit where you laid helpless and wretched in your sin. He washed you. Laid you beside still waters and restored your soul. Now I look at you and the beauty blooming in your heart and can’t help but smile. You are beautiful. Like a cloud at sunset reflecting the light of His glory. And I say to you, dear belinda, rejoice in this 55th year of life. For He has made you glad. He has prepared a table before you in the presence of your enemies. He walks beside you through the valley of the shadow of death. Goodness and Mercy shall follow you all the days of your life and you will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.



Not the movie. The real vertigo that steps into your life with the tiniest granule on the smallest fiber in your inner ear and lays you low. It began with the little wobble when I sat up in bed in the morning. Whoa. That was weird. Then all was well and I went on with life. Innocently making plans and promises as if I had the power to control my life. Then came the listing walk just a little off kilter. Bumping my shoulder as I passed through a doorway. And finally the spinning room and sea sick nausea every time moved my head or my eyes or looked at the light, any light. So, there I laid. Throw up bowl by my side, curtains closed while the world moved on without me. I wasn’t sick. I just couldn’t move, or read or listen to anyone talk. I was laid low. And I laughed at my former self who made plans who thought she had the power to control her life. I had nothing. Other people stepped up and did my jobs, fulfilled my promises and me? I laid there and hugged my trash can after I had heaved my guts into it. I couldn’t even clean it out. I had to wait for someone to come help me. I had tried to get up, that’s how I ended up holding the trash can. People fast sometimes to focus on God and not be distracted. You can believe that He had my full attention. I didn’t hear him speak but I learned something. Without Him I can do nothing. In Him I live and breathe and have my being. And the Bible verse that says not to say that tomorrow I’ll go here or there for we don’t know what tomorrow holds. That is truth. Three days later, I am well. Able to walk again. I can turn my head without the room moving violently in circles. And I am hopeful that I can remember, in my wellness, at whose pleasure I live. And how fragile life is. How precious life is. And how grateful I am to be given this day to live for Him.

Digging my own well


I don’t know why I keep running back to it.  You would think that I would have learned by now.

When my emotions overwhelm me I run back to the edge of my very own well.  The one I’ve gone to for years. It is overgrown with grass and weeds and the stones are crumbling.  I look down into its darkness and feel the pull.

A voice, still and gentle warns me not to jump.  My feelings yearn for the comfort offered in the familiar darkness. The depths call out to me promising relief.

I move my feet closer, teetering on the edge.  Pieces of broken stone scatter over the side and plunge down into my well.

I hear the echoes as they fall.  There is no splash.  My well is empty, dry, water-less.  My thoughts turn back from the darkness below me.  I hear the small voice beckoning me.

I remember now the times I’ve found myself at the bottom of my own well.  Bruised, bleeding and trapped surrounded by the darkness that promised relief.

I am the woman at the well.  Looking for relief in the refrigerator, on-line or at the movies.  Pulling the covers over my head to escape.  I end up more empty and alone and depressed.  And so thirsty.

I remember who rescued me and healed me and loved me.  The sunday school song bubbles up in my heart, “Deep and wide, deep and wide. There’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.”

He has made provision for me.  He is the living water.  He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul.  His well is not dry.  His promises are trustworthy.  I turn away from my well and fall to my knees.

His well is as close as a whisper. Jesus. I pour out my soul to the One who loves me. I take a drink of His living water.

visiting with Michelle, Laura, and outside the city gates