Posted in Different Scriptures, Spoken Word

Exodus 17:1-7

In the wilderness of Sin, we will always have a thirst
We were created to live in a promised land
No matter where we wander, or convince ourselves is true
A point comes where we begin to understand

The thirst is something we deny, we should just be content
There is a freedom in our wandering place to place
But in time, the Spirit stirs and awakes
Our desire to look full upon His face.

For a people who worshipped “Freedom” it became a need
To realize their idol could not provide
These moments were used by God to highlight His position
And bring his people out from all their pride.

For years they’d assumed everything would be just fine
If they could only break the chains that bound
But when the chains were shattered, they still had many needs
And when they looked within, no answers found.

But when they turned to God (not always pure-hearted)
He responded every time they called His name
In the middle of dry deserts, when they cried to Him
Moses struck the rock, and out the waters came.

What are the idols we’ve set high, as objects to pursue?
Be they “Freedom”, or “Success” or “Security”?
May we be reminded that none offer what we need
As beings created to reflect His purity.

Posted in Spoken Word, Uncategorized


While we pray for Revival wherever we find ourselves, we also must be aware that often we use “waiting” as a way of staying comfortable. Meanwhile, the Spirit has been poured out and is on the move. Are we willing to humble ourselves, repent (turn away) of our false sources of life – and join what God is up to?


Posted in Spoken Word

Pentecost (a poem)


Coughing as I breathe in, chest wheezing, this dusty cloud kicks up when I walk.

When I talk, words fall to the ground without sound.

Cracks invading the pavement, waiting for someone tall to step wrong and fall. Someone saw rain in the distance, just one instance, but that was years ago.

For now, nothing grows. And so, nothing sows. The last leaves turned to ash.  Out of resource, out of cash.  It happened so fast, before we realized we were empty.  The wind blows over another dried up, used to be, has been but isn’t now.

For a split second, seems to bow on purpose, then falls.

Smashing into a million pieces in these parched halls.  The air so dry it’s impossible to sweat – impossible to shed a tear, for fear of losing the last drops of moisture we assume are somewhere deep inside.  We’ve tried to hide.  We’ve lied to hide.  Cause when it’s gone, it’s gone.

Or so we’ve heard.  Not another word.  After all, we’ll get by.  We just need to try.  Try harder.  To really mean it this time.

Sunlight breaks, the cushion shakes and reveals the dust we’ve been breathing.  Our lungs as thirsty as our throats, debris forming coats.  A trembling unsettles our dust.  Frightened, but we must, respond.

The room is shaking, the ground quaking, the clouds fill the sky and darken brightly.

Not a drip.   Not a trickle or a stream. But all in one moment it happens.

Dams break, waves overtake, water makes and snakes its’ way, soaking the day, washing away any traces of ash and dust.  Respond we must, gasping for air and at the same time sinking without a care.

The pipes have burst, rushing like floods from somewhere unseen.  More like a geyser, like the spring from which all springs are sprung – filling our lungs and drowning out all remnants of thirst.

To a land that was cursed – healing and life, New Life. A Spirit poured out, and all creation shouts “Great is the Lamb that was slain!”  “Great is His Name!” The Spirit that came, as God promised it would.

See His blood on the wood…

We receive and are never the same.

Isaiah 44:3