February 07, 2009


There is something here
Something about freedom
To see where I was
And what I am walking into
And to see all the lies
To know that it is not of me
To know that I could not have done this
And to know that everything
That is drawn out of me
Is burned and refined
Not for me,
But for Him.

On Aprils

Ten years ago, I sat in the dining hall of a Christian camp. A man my father's age sat with me. It was April, and I had no idea... I had...