{Unedited} Just Because

blurred_lights-t2I’ve recently been reminded that I’m “supposed” to be writing and posting and publishing and doing all those moving forward things that lead to paying jobs and critical acclaim in the writers-sphere.
I get that, I do (and I love you for the support bea) but I also know that my world is changing and I’m not quite sure how I WANT to fit all of these beautiful nuggets into what’s emerging.
Our family moved, again. Washington. East side, West side, East side, Idaho, Florida. That’s a lot of transition. New climates (sharpen the farm mama learning curve). Start from scratch. Source the needs. Fight the man (and not just the one I’m married to).
We have started a new business, have you ever started a business? PAPERWORK. Worse, we started a business in a technical field that is all about paperwork. Any guesses what I spend most of my time doing? Paperwork.
I have a pool, I want to swim in that. And sit quiet in the evenings and soak up the sun in the mornings and maybe do all those things without the interference of electronic communication or a manuscript in my hand. I think maybe I don’t want to write. Or farm. Or do anything other than wake up, feed my home, feed my heart, go to work and sleep the uninterrupted sleep of a woman who has made her choice.
But I know that’s a lie. I know that I will eventually sit in front of a keyboard and spill my thoughts onto the screen. I know that I need to refine my focus and change my presence and do the purposeful things like marketing and name changes and business plans. I need to have my picture taken instead of hiding behind the camera taking the picture. I need to edit my catalog and deliver it to be measured. I need to do the networking, and educating, and learning. I need to find the time, choose the time and I need to act now because inaction is exhausting and waiting serves no purpose.
But maybe just a little bit less for just a little longer. Grace? Let someone else grow the food, grow the business, grow the plan while I rest. My heart is happy and my body is feels the weight of Washington to Idaho to Florida. 3,489.8 miles of change. Today my body is winning and challenging my attention to self-care. Today I’m going to let go of the details and expectations. I’m going to sit in front of a keyboard and spill my thoughts onto the screen. Then sink into the water and soak in the sun. Today I’m going to rest. Because. Just because.

{Unedited} Circles on the Water


As a child growing up in the Christian church I struggled with an intuitive awareness that wasn’t understood.

The rocks sang and the earth moved beneath my feet.

Steeped in Native culture my skin made me an outsider to a deeper understanding that my heart somehow already knew.

I could see the wind and taste the storm. The smaller interweaving of life that defines a larger calling. Craving ritual. Drum and dance pulsing beneath my skin. Like a conductor the Spirit flowed through me. Off my tongue unbidden. Humming on my finger tips and coloring my sight.

With no guidance the clamor of thought that pressed itself to me felt like insanity. Possession. A burden I was taught to rail against.

For thirty years I was wrong. My body was wrong. My spirit was wrong.

Drowning in anointing oil and running from myself I reached for logic disregarding the most basic explanation that my upbringing wouldn’t accept.

I was exactly as I was made to be by a creator who makes no mistakes.

The solution was surrender. The slow and intentional drowning of fear and survival. Circles etched on the water. Inescapable fire and the refining of self. I let go and learned to breathe beneath the depths. An ancient soul in a broken body. Healing began and the world became clear.

There is fear in the unknown and a human need to define it. Label and classify what is not able to be controlled. Even in a faith that demands no boundaries we define our submission.

Mastery a redemption for a wild and open heart.

We write scripts to glorify the calling. Romanticized images of power and spirit. Making something easy evil and what is evil light.

We miss the mark and side step responsibility with a fan like adoration.

Teaching fear of self. Abusing the vessel of hope and grace.

I am not the Spirit of my gifts. I am the vessel. Responsibility lies in my willingness to be, and yet I quietly struggle with a willingness to make a mark. To be seen.

Fear of my salvation. Fear of judgment. Old worries and ideas a daily struggle against what I know to be true.

That I am exactly as I was made to be by a creator that makes no mistakes.

Circles etched on the water.

To speak what I know. To live in my ritual, not as worship or religion but because my nature requires it. Because communion is an action found in the quiet folds of morning. Chosen in the humming dusk of a wide sky. The moon reminds me, time to release. Breath in a cleansing smoke. Prayer and mediation aligning will. Will submitted to calling.

In my growth I’ve found drum and dance. In the roots of highland ancestors, in the words of my text. A biblical truth that needs no accounting. The worship of movement and release. Sweet words spoken in understanding by those who would mother my heart. Nurture my nature and guide my knowledge. A spiritual connection without lines drawn to loyalties.

The Spirit in me recognizes the Spirit in you.

Ego surrendered to understanding.

Creation calls to us for surrender. The sea is pulled by the moon. The rocks rise up in worship.
Gently. Powerfully. Prayerfully. I know my truth and I grieve the loss of understanding by a church that requires it.

We hobble ourselves and the world sees. Our weakness bound in righteous dignity. Our representation of a son who bore all so we could move between the world and Spirit. Fearless of reprisal. Speaking boldly the truth.

That Grace is not found in the four walls of doctrine but in the broken heart of a reasoned mind.
Faith. Tended and grown. Compassion reigning. Choice a truth.

My choice. My truth. The indwelling of Spirit. Words taught and understood.

Circles etched on the water. Prophetic and wild. Not contained by religion. The only requirement for a redemption given freely. Surrender.

A request. The still voice of command.

See yourself through me. The beauty of calling. The power of love. Faith defined. Grace redeeming. Fearless in your hope. Triumphant in your understanding. Lay down your fight and breath in the deep so that you may know the peace that resides within it.

In the world, not of the world. Doctrine released for Spirit. Spirit resolving pain.

Shattering Rahab and finding peace.

Circles etched on the water and the rocks do sing.

{He replied, “I tell you that if these keep silent, the very stones will cry out in worship.” Luke 19:40}

{Unedited} Wildness Bled

wpid-wp-1433946319701.jpegI was born landlocked in Eastern Washington.
Desert with the exception of a river boldly claimed as gain.
We played in our river. Swam. Fished. Gloried in her intention as she wound through the sage and rock like the song of a mother heart, growing full at the obstacle of man’s will. Iron and cement thrust into landscape. Harnessing power and creating pleasure in the cradling arms of winter’s runoff. For duty she waited. Divided and dispensed before carrying herself tired to the sea.
Holding less with each demand but beautiful in her giving.
Both the river and what held her were a significant part of my growth. Emotionally and physically. I savored the release of connection. No words to describe floating in a cool embrace, fragile form slicing through ripples in methodical movement, so aware. Aware of contradiction. The feel of wet and the scent of dry. The wild and the caged.
Wide and deep I have yet to find a more perfect place to waste a day.
As a child in the August heat I was powerful. Bronzed in the sun, sheltered and buffed in the shallows. Noise and sensation muted through the liquid walls of my play. Senses quiet. I dreamt of the feel and taste. The smell of skin after having soaked in the water and sand.
A waterfall of kinetic energy reaching for the depths.
Bolstering my spirit and cleansing pain.
Heart eased. Damage from a world’s misconceptions.
Nature’s remedy for a spirit on fire.
Turning fourteen I travelled south to the sea.
A heart on fire.
Innocence struggling with need. I had felt the first yearnings for freedom and self. Felt the binding ties of being woven in. My own wildness bled.
Feet on cement, chaos around me I stood watching my summer protector come home. Leave home.
Minutes passing in powerful clarity. Grieving her journey. Fearing my own. Diverted and used before fulfilling hope. A small tip towards knowledge as my spirit came alive, as if she knew I would need that faith.
A mother whose will forever changed me.

{Unedited} There Is This

wpid-wp-1433513143193.jpegAt the end of the day you will find us.



Wound together like two pieces of a living puzzle.

I sit writing. I lay reading. Tv mumbles muted in the background. Lights dimmed as household weaves through the space we are taking. In these expected moments my children offer gentle conversation. Content in understanding. Tomorrow I am theirs but tonight my heart will tend her home.

Grace. An unspoken need and I will stay.

Deep breath rising and falling, the man I build a life with sinks into the foundation of our understanding. Warm and waiting to be touched he pulls himself to me. Head in lap. Arms around hips. He presses his face into the softness of a body content to be used and sleeps.

As knowing hands sooth.

As familiar skin moves against strong shoulders, feeling the texture of his spine.

His body releases the day and finds peace. This is healing. No grasping positions or costly armor. A simple conquest of time and choice.


Completely opened. Sure. Sometimes there are words. More often not. The music of a song written in the hours and days that have shown us our place is enough. He will trust completely to hold the memories of his pain. Laying himself in the arms of a taught champion and knowingly I keep my post until redemption is found.


If nothing else there is this and we have changed the world.