About Me

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Portland, OR, United States
As an aspiring theologian I live in a city, state, country and time that offers minimal allowance to stern conviction. However arousing this "fenced" position seems at times, I cannot stay silent or relent on that which sternly convicts the very core of who I am. If nothing else, this is the slow and steady, (rather infrequent) thought-life of one who has tried her turn at silence, failing miserably on all accounts. In my limited experience thus far, I have come to realize four very important facts of life which demand attention: First, that I am here by God’s appointment, second, in His keeping, third, under his training, and fourth, for His timing (Andrew Murray). The end of the story is still a mystery to me but I’ve relinquished my pen to its true author, leaving the future in a terribly exciting state.

Wednesday

Latest Song: Terebinth Seed [Isaiah 6]


Speak now
I am listening to you
Hoping you still recognize my face
Look deep
I've been known by many other things lately

Like tongues of fire lick up straw
And dry grass in the flames will sink
My roots will all decay before you
Like puddles in the Summer's heat
And it will all blow away

I cry, "I am ruined. My hands are unclean."
Then you speak
And I can't remember what it is you said
But you knew me by name

Like tongues of fire lick up straw
And dry grass in the flames will sink
My roots will all decay before you
Like puddles in the Summer's heat
And it will all blow away

Sweet Seraphim fly
Pressing coals to these lips
Then my guilt will escape me
My failings, acquit
Oh atonement is such a lovely retreat
But I fear I'll be left
With a terebinth seed

And like puddles in the Summer's heat
I will just blow away
 
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