i write to believe.

aboard the Bateaux Mouche the cold and crisp air of Paris sang hands folded inside knitted gloves scarves like cupped hands around our necks the warm taste of coffee from a 4 inch cup held tight to last the 45 minute tour we waltzed through the canal the Eiffel loomed over shadows of its height all gray against the orange of fall the ride was slow and every bridge there greeted passerby made the foreign visit home Paris unveiled quiet dreams all forgotten in the backseat of desire stories whispering peace anticipated the holiday of trees we passed the bookshop where books hid lives and the clock ticked of time the clock ticked of time she waved goodbye and her heart gazed through her eyes but her smile, her smile a rosy colored bloom against the autumn Paris sky I write this in memory of Tita Lisa Caro.  One of the fellow pilgrims who travelled with us on Bus Number 5 during last year's  Europe tour. ...

There are many interesting things that have been happening to me these past 3 weeks. It's been a journey out of and into another chapter of my life.  And this chapter is the chapter that makes me face that thing I want to do the most.   Write.   The stories on this page have been slow because I've been trying to discover what it is that I want to really write about and when I ask myself this question, I begin to ask myself the most important question: what am I really about?  It doesn't feel so difficult to ask now compared to before.  I'd squirm and I'd let my gaze wander off into a blank wall or I'd stiffen up and change the subject because I don't really want to dig in too deep and ask myself that because I fear the answer to that question.  I fear having to say it out loud.  I fear having to type it out here.   What am I really about?  I don't really know.   I don't really have it all figured out just yet.  It'...

Every thought of the past often triggers an anxious thought about the future. When I look at what happened yesterday, I used to often wonder if tomorrow will be better or will be worse. It’s an endless cycle of anxiety that robs me of what God is doing today. He says with much conviction. SEE!  It is an urgent invitation as if He knows we are going to miss something good if we do not look. When I keep looking back at what has been. When I dwell on the trauma of what has scarred me I am not able turn my gaze to what God is doing now. This very moment. He is doing something NEW . When we do not feel that God is doing anything at all, it is not because He isn’t. It is primarily because we do not SEE. Seeing what God is trying to do calls for us to stop insisting on what we think He is doing or responding ever so quickly to a circumstance that jolts or shakes the ground we walk on.  Seeing God calls us to go slow into the moment and let His words take root ...