Thank You for Lymphedema

Thank You Lord for the lessons.
The ones of contentment for where I am,
Whether in need or cup overflowing,
Whether in layers of luxury or sackclothes of hunger,
For through them I’ve come to know You as God the Sustainer.

Thank You Lord, for the lessons in need.
For in them You’ve shown me what need truly is.
How to separate what I’d like to have,
From what I need to survive
For I know You now as the God Who Provides.

Thank You Lord, for the tests of change.
For while the world shifts shape constantly,
You have remained steadfast
You have capstoned the Godly standards.
For through these lessons I know You as God of Absolutes.

Thank You Lord for this chronic pain.
The one that crushes my will and spirit,
The one whose timing scores perfectly
As what strikes at those most inopportune moments.
For in them I’ve met You as God of the Broken Hearted.

Thank You Lord, for the hours it takes me
To do the simplest of tasks on my own.
For it is in these grueling hours,
When Giving Up seems like my only friend,
That I’ve been blessed to know You as God Who Understands.

Thank You Lord, for this Lymphedema.
For how little is understood about it,
The nights I can’t sleep and struggle,
Thank You for using the consequences of Evil
For it is in these moments I’ve known You as Friend.
         d.f.a.v. 3/2/15

Without a Chip to Bet

I went in need before the Lord,
A request to make to change my world,
My intention to offer Him all I could
A deal I needed and I knew it must be good.
But before the words could part my lips,
I looked at my hands and fingertips.
Not one chip did I have to bet,
My value to Him He’d be right to forget.
What could I barter in some exchange?
I hadn’t a single value to my name.
I prayed in despair for something to trade,
Then in my panic the fear started to fade.
God couldn’t be bribed or His favor won,
By a whole bodied woman or a lesser bodied one.
I’m literally a woman without a leg to stand on,
Without a chip to bet, a singer minus a song.
But God is good all the time it’s true
He’ll bless me, I’ve no doubt as He will you.
It is never been about what we bring to God
Never about what we can do on this sod.
For from the beginning Jesus’ sacrifice was the plan
And God’s triumph over death in the palm of His hand.
Nothing I could ever bring to the table
Will prove to anyone of what God is able.
So I take my need and my hurt to the Lord
Trusting His love for me to get me through this world.
Suddenly I understand the lack of a bargaining chip
Doesn’t cause my value with the Father, the slightest to dip.
               d.f.a.v. 3/1/15

Cottage by the Sea #5 – 2015


Abba Father:
How beautiful this snow and ice look!
Blanketing the earth in diamonds and white.
A feast for the eyes to embrace this sight.
A balm for my heart when everything looks alright.
Innocent and pure it appears to be
What should I fear in this beauty?

The sun rises and the blanket reflects,
The yellows, oranges and reds of sunrise
It’s a lift for the soul a blessed surprise.
Something so dazzling it nearly burns the eyes.
The world seems alive with energy
All because of this immeasurable imagery.

If this part of the world could stop
No one have to work, there be no emergencies.
If adults and children could play as far as eye could see.
If when this art of nature melted gradually,
It didn’t reveal any ravaged tragedies or wounds
If we’d emerge a butterfly from a cocoon.

But tomorrow has troubles of its own,
So I’ll not borrow or think far ahead
But praise You for the wonder my eyes have read
Thank You for each blessing instead
Trust You to provide whatever the need
Have faith in Your every action and deed.

Enjoy the sight and the quiet peace!
Before life erupts again frantically
Barreling down to achieve dramatically
The good and evil deeds of man fast and furiously.
Yes, tomorrow has sorrows of its own
Today for those I will not moan and groan.

Instead look how the ocean spray froze!
Rows of sea foam froze on deck and pier,
Even the sea has frozen on top it appears,
Seashells and seaweed ice encased are dear.
Thank You Abba for this beautiful time out!
I will find ways to rejoice rather than pout!
d.f.a.v. 2/26/15




When the only

Thing we can say


“I’ll pray.”

Doing so

Is enough.



When the need

Far outweighs our


“I’ll see.”

Doing so

Isn’t enough.



When the cost

Are near and dear


“But I,”

To keep’em

Isn’t enough.



When the need

Is deep


“Here’s ten.”

Just given

Isn’t enough.



We have to

Dig deep


“I’m here,

Send me

Use me!”



Our idea of




In light

Of needs.



Our cocoon

Chokes the


We never


The butterfly.



The need

Must be


By our


And feet.




Keeps us


Bond by


Not freed.



We must

Give all


For Christ’s


To shine.




You Are Who You Are


When they tell you
You’re put together wrong
Tell them Jesus handled the arrangements.
And if He put these pieces
In this order
There’s no mistake.

For by the grace of God
You are who you are
A being knit together in your mother’s womb
A person whose very number of hairs on their head
Are known by Him.

For He knows the plans
He has for your life and in every life
There is a time for everything
A purpose for existing
In the moment and way you are.

Look up to the Father
Trust Him for we see a poor reflection in a mirror
He sees with eyes of love
With a heart of mercy
For by His grace you are who you are.

So whoever questions who you are
That your decision to live
Your life by the standards He gave
That being in the world
But not part of the world–

That the arrangements of this core of you
Are weird or wrong or unattractive
Who gives them the power to decide?
You have Him to call upon
He knows you before birth throughout eternity.

You’re put together quite well thank you
A work in progress for He
Who begins a good work in you
Will see that work completed
For by His grace you are who you are.
                  d.f.a.v. 2/24/15

Scripture used:
1 Corinthians 15:10
Psalm 139:103
Ecclesiastical 3:1-8a
1 Corinthians 13:12
2 Corinthians 6
Philippines 1:6

Secret Sins

O mankind what woe was done,
Against My daughter, against My son?
Whose innocence cries from whence its gone?
The purity of My precious ones.

How evil are the deeds that dark hath covered!
Know you not I could see them as committed?
I am the Light but not what you wanted
For your hearts are by sins ruined.

Do not think to you this doth not apply,
As if my grace and mercy are your alibi, You too have your secret sins reply
When My Light to you doth cry.

The time drew near and hath arrived
To bring to Light what some have tried
To lock away and think My Light you mocked
Did you forget I will not be rocked?

Exposed with the secret sins you kept
It is a blinded spotlight with which you’re swept.
To the Light it matters not what pleas you’ve now wept
Your decision stays where you hath leapt.

But even though your sin is grave
Exposed now to it you no longer must slave
Turn to me with repentant heart and I will save
Consequences yes but with Me face them brave.

To those who think they hath escaped
Your sins slink on in places shadowed,
My cleansing comes to not be silenced
Come forth now for you will be exposed.

Do not judge these ones caught in their sins
The judgment game you will never win.
Pray now earnestly on your knees and then
Confess, repent, face what might have been.

A spiritual cleansing across this land
In little places, lavish and desert sands
My Spirit will move in warrior bands
Showing the world the stains upon your hands.

Will you my people return to me?
For ’tis only I who can set you free.
Expose your deepest crags before the tree
For the day does approach when all can see.
              d.f.a.v. 2/23/15

Forgive Them


Hated because He knew them.
Really knew them.
Knew their heart’s cores.
Their thoughts.
Their piety.
Their hopes.
Their dreams.
Their motivations.
Condemned because He was blameless.
Never sinned once.
Because He was who He was.
He was Jesus.
When evil in men’s hearts won.
Plotting was successful.
He paid the price.
In stripes.
In torn flesh.
In humiliation.
In blood.
In death.
His final words, “It is finished! ”
Prior He spoke,
Father, forgive them.
Forgive them.
Forgive them.
Forgive them.
Forgive them.
Forgive them.
He knows me as thoroughly.
He tells me
To be like Him.
When hated.
When condemned.
When invaded by evil.
When broken.
When shattered.

He never said it would be easy.
                d.f.a.v. 2/20/15

Cottage by the Sea #4 – 2015


Abba Father:
Sit here and watch the storm?
The snow falling in blankets.
Piling up,
Up on the sand…
Oblivating landmarks behind us.
No corner free from the rip,
Roaring sound
That zips and presses solid walls,
And rattles window panes
Announcing it’s presence
Leaving no hope of pretense
That it hasn’t any apologies to make
It intends to wreck havoc
With our lives?
Neither bird, animal or man
Ventures out into this madness.
This freezing
Wild dance nature reveals.
The sea spray freezing
In instant imitations
Of itself thrown,
Flung like salty
Cloudy ice sculptures
Onto every structure
In the reach of its artistry.
Come morning, if possible,
I’ll try photographing the
But I won’t hold my breath
Because I can’t plow
My way free.
Not of this or
The latest boxes
I threw hastily into the room.
Images of men in
Black hoods or camouflage ones,
And pop stars on beasts,
Announcing they’ve turned to Satan.
Israel ‘s Prime Minister
Urging all Jews to come home,
To separate themselves
From all other peoples.
Parents starving babies
Hiding children’s existence
Sitting silent rather than reveal
Where they went or
Were taken
By the only one they knew.
Of war torn countries
Populations shrinking as
They bury their dead.
Of martyrs bodies
Falling to earth while
Their souls rise to You.
Another storm.
With no apologies
For the havoc it intends
To wreck in our lives.
Leaving no pretense
Of evils existence
Upon earth
And in man.
God have mercy.
               d.f.a.v.  2/19/15

It Won’t Be Long, Lord


For me it is no longer a question,

It is a statement.

Jesus, You’re coming back soon.

Any second now The Father

Will look at You and say,

“Go bring Our people home.”

It won’t be long.

It won’t be long.


Those who don’t believe in You,

Who cling to man-made gods,

They have killed Believers in You,

Since You were here, Jesus,

Even when You were here.

Lately, they’ve escalated.

Twenty-one beheaded.

Twenty-one beheaded.


Used to think, oh, never here

Not here in America

The land of the brave,

The land of the free.

Can’t think that anymore, Lord.

‘Cause America has slipped.

It’s not “In God we trust”.

It’s not “In God we trust”.


Our president makes You a mockery,

He makes America a mockery,

Our lawmakers have little restraint

Votes up for the highest bid

So little, so little respect for the original,

And less for Christianity

Less for morals and values.

Less for morals and values.


And our hands aren’t clean, I know Lord.

We embraced slavery, waited too long

To become involved in

World War II

Waiting for millions of Jews and others

To be executed.

No, we’re not innocent.

No, we’re not innocent.


But I confess Lord, I didn’t expect,

That things would be like this.

Jesus, I never imagined Americans,

Would be so far from You,

Would be so confused,

Could be so blinded to think,

“Wrong is right.

Wrong is right.”


Before America became, Lord

There were the Crusades

And piety and slavery

Keeping Your Word

Out of the hands of

We the common man.

It’s hard to deny.

It’s hard to deny.


You’re going to judge us soon, Jesus.

Each one of us, Lord,

On our own deeds,

On our own lives,

On our own hearts.

Too late, nearly too late,

No more time to waste,

You’re coming soon, Jesus.

You’re coming soon, Jesus.


We’ve been looking for You a long time.

Thousands of years now.

Jesus, I’m longing for You.

Even as I know I face judgment,

Even as I prostrate myself with shame,

I know I’ll also hear,

“Welcome home.

Welcome home.”

        d.f.a.v. 2/17/15




Mission Fields

Your mission field may very well be
Exactly where God wants you to see
He has a reason for where you are
Be it close to home or very far.
Your assignment may be your family
Where sometimes its hardest to be friendly
Despite the same blood in your hearts
Sharing God’s Word and love can be an art.
Perhaps your mission field is your work,
Where folks are nice or may be jerks
When stress mounts high and tension hisses
Your chances to witness slowly increases.
Your mission field may be a local service project
Yard work, meals, tending to needs, simple logic.
Care for the widows, elderly and disabled
Offering cool cups of water and making them feel stable.
Maybe it will be on foreign soil
Where Jesus will choose for you to toil.
Where you may make history
For dying for telling His Story.
Perhaps your missionary work requires your life
Or how to be a praying wife.
Maybe it will mean you don’t eat
So a child can who suffers in desert heat.
It could even be in your school
Where God equips you with His tools
But it doesn’t matter where your assignment is
You must show the world you are His.
Pray hard and sincere as you start each day
Listen carefully for God to show you the way.
And never forget a single day
To follow through on all God has to say.
                            d.f.a.v. 2/17/14