Redeeming Me

God you are redeeming me

You are relentless, like the work of wind and water, never ceasing

Sometimes a hurricane blast, other times a summer breeze, always persevering

A waterfall thundering on the rocks of my heart, or a steady dripping rain


All you ask is that I open my heart to you and trust you enough to obey

Sometimes that is the hardest thing to do

Holding my hurts and rights tight to my chest

I find this treasure is fool’s gold

You offer me something so much better if I will only let go

When nothing stands between you and me my heart is full of joy

But I constantly put up barriers or become distracted

I forget how wonderful you are

I forget how much you’ve already done and become impatient

Help me to remember

Help me to hold on to you and let go of everything else

I am a vine clinging to you

And you are the rock in a weary land.

Worthy is the Lamb

It’s been a long time since I wrote in this blog, and so much has happened in that time, but reading my old posts I see that some things are still the same. I still have a lot of the same struggles at times.

Here’s a poem I wrote recently. I also set it to music and altered the words a little to make it a song. I’ll post a recording here once I get around to making one.


Worthy is the Lamb

May 25, 2020

There are no bounds or limits to Your grace;

No cloud can dim the sunshine of Your face

That looks with love on Your adopted child

Wearing the righteousness of the Lamb of God.

Forever the saints of God will proclaim:

“Worthy, worthy, O worthy is the Lamb!”


Thank You, Saviour, that Your mercy found me

Despairing, raging, in my storm-tossed sea.

You spoke into the night, “Let there be light,”

And brought the peace that had eluded me.

You set me free to praise You evermore;

My unfettered soul rejoices in the Lord!

Forever the saints of God will proclaim:

“Worthy, worthy, O worthy is the Lamb!”


Now let me walk with you Lord day by day,

Listen to your voice and follow Your ways.

For the world and its desires are passing away,

But a kingdom is coming of bright eternal day.

Forever the saints of God will proclaim:

“Worthy, worthy, O worthy is the Lamb!”

Can you rejoice in Me?

Lying in bed, earlier than I want it to be.
The sound of children’s voices when I want quiet.
Grumbles rise to the surface, discontentment chafing.
If only I had a bigger house, quieter children…

Recognising the path my thoughts are taking, reining them in,
Offering thankfulness for this house, these children, this life.
And then His whisper in my mind:

“Can you rejoice in Me?”

Not just thanking Him for His blessings,
But basking in His presence,
Opening my heart to the rays of His love,
Looking past the changing circumstances, good or ill,
And seeing the One who never alters.

I will rejoice in You!

The Swamp

Out of the swamp of self-pity

Feet on firm ground

Looking around

I see your blessings surround me

I see your hand of mercy

But it’s easy to slide back in

With one backward glance

Wallow in the mud again

Forget what you’ve told me

Savouring the pain

But you never heave a sigh

Never turn your back

Never label me ‘too hard’

This one just needs a little more love

A little more grace

She’ll come round.

Beggar for Love

I was a beggar for love until you found me,

Clutching my filthy rags around me,

Scrabbling in the dirt for scraps left behind,

Holding tight to what I could find,

Until you found me.


I was a beggar for love until you found me,

The longing for love a festering wound within me,

Scorned love turned to passionate hate,

Loathing myself more than anyone else,

Until you found me.


I was a beggar for love, but you stooped in the dirt,

Picked me up, washed my wounds, healed my hurt.

In your perfect love, Jesus, I find

A well so deep I can never drink it dry.

Not just one in a crowd to you,

But a beloved child lost and sought,

You never relented until you had me safe in your arms

Nestled near your heart,

A beggar no more.

I am yours.


Fleeting life,

You came to rest too soon

In a tube, not my womb,

And died.

Entered into the greater Rest

Which I do not yet know,

See His face,

Hear His voice.

I wait for eternity,

Wounded, bereaved.

In memory of Shiloh, October 29, 2013

Praise the Creator


Praise the Creator–

the One who made in intricate detail

each petal, each speck of life that lives and

moves on this blue-green ball.

The tiniest spider – a dot with legs – and

the farthest-flung star, spinning through space,

came from your hand.

Praise the Sustainer–

as all things change and grow old

you are the same.

Our life is a breath, our pride a shadow,

but you remain.