SMASHED SAINT

Category: dreams

  • Seoul Searching, Part 1

    Seoul Searching, Part 1

    In the Spring of 2013, I began to acutely feel the pull to go to the nations, specifically Korea. The craving for Korea was so deep, I began devouring Korean Dramas–which I had previously never had an interest in. I would lose sleep some nights just to finish watching a drama. I thought I was totally backsliding.…

  • When Love Says Go

    When Love Says Go

    On February 3, 2017 the Back to Basics Collective put together a concert/fundraiser, When Love Says Go, to support my upcoming longterm missions to Asia. I’d been hashtagging #WhenLoveSaysGo over the past year as I traveled to different countries and cities for ministry and missions, as just a simple statement of–well, wherever God tells me to go,…

  • On the Day Before I Turned 36

    I have so much hair, and a lot that falls out. The bed I’m sleeping on has white sheets white pillow and white blanket and you can very visibly see the azure, lavender, silver, emerald, sienna strands of my hair collecting on the bed and falling to the floor, casually swept to the corners and…

  • The Good Cafe Window Seat

    sitting at a window looking outside before the day runs into itself.   and it’s not particularly gorgeous or spectacular, there’s nothing fancy about this seat, or my hair, or my naked unmade-up face, my thin eyes— in fact, the barista looked at me sympathetically as I rubbed my eyes and said, “caffeine, you need…

  • Love Tree

    love is patient ly Growing

  • come away

    in moments like when norah is swooning sounds swirling around, a peculiar longing tugs at my soul to forego all the other dreams–the art, the beauty, the revolution, the love and golden buildings–and just chase this one, this profound fair one that i desire too much and tremble to actually reach: to slip away from…

  • When I Witness*

    for DDK the way He moves your heart and captivates your soul, the way you allow for the breaking open, make room for sorrow and oceans, exhilaration and flight, all in a single breath or string of melody and glimmering eye; the way you are both young and old, innocent and wise, daring yet careful…

  • remembering

    thieves & robbers try to claim my skies, with trickery and deceit fool me into believing they just might but i look up, and so clearly see: i’m already flying

  • the dust

    collects in piles around the edges and cracks of this dream, broken again but not by the stories that haunted yesterday here is a new breaking, a new crumbling off of dry pieces like learning to hold a name tender in the center of your soul but not letting it infiltrate the secret places reserved…

  • the perfect image

    looking under rocks, rubble and falling towers for what it means to be heroic wondering: perhaps perfection isn’t orderly nor sanitized, not to be found in the cleaned-up thing but its beauty, a perfect Beauty, is the weak cry of defiant life stubbornly resisting extinction. perhaps: heroes are made from the glimmering shards of broken…