She broke the alabaster flask. & with it, her identity shattered to pieces.
I can only imagine how hard she cried.
Enough tears to wash His feet.
Her long hair, now caked with mud & pretty face, now red with tears—
she gave up her desire to be the awe of man.
She was in awe of the Lord; so, she washed His feet.
& He washed her heart.
I can’t count the times I’ve held a “street”-girl, opened my eyes from a prayer & looked down to see the sidewalk, dotted with tears. Continue reading “ALABASTER FLASK”


She handed me two unripe mangos her family had picked earlier that day from trees that were not ready.

Minutes before,

hot tears were dripping off her cheeks onto the cool, concrete floor of that small house. In my broken Spanish, I had asked her how she was & she opened her heart to me like she had opened her home.

“My husband’s motorcycle is broken, so he can’t go to work. We don’t have money for food. All we have is these unripe mangos.” Continue reading “SOUR MANGOS”


Obedience is sacrifice, so where’s the sacrifice?

This is a question I’ve had on my heart.

This culture I live in is designed so that I can go nearly a whole day without making any sacrifices. I can eat what I want, when I want. I can hang out with the friends of my choosing. I can wear what I want. I can spend all my time how I choose. I can live selfishly.

But then, where’s my cross? Continue reading “JEHOVAH-JIREH”