let’s (not) burn together


i googled, ‘hand from fire’.

in the garden were placed pillars of flames,
and each flame made the last one appear tame.
one by one i believed they would consume me;
and so conjured a lie in foolish pyromancy –

‘perhaps it is my fate to embrace this blazing sea.’

but you in mercy unbeknownst extinguished them all.
and as i thrashed about lamenting my pain,
you ensured that not even an ember remained.

you set above me a long, healing rain,
and saw this feeble wretch retained.

now older, wiser, and mature,
i thank you.



the devil serves up a heady brew.
a couple of swigs and i’ve ‘thought it through.’
my eyes dim, i’m losing my cool;
the lines begin to blur – between false and true.

and in a while i wake up, hungover with rue.

i sobered up, with tears blue and a wounded heart.
i asked the lord if i may understand in time due:
my many miseries, both old and new,
the locusts’ years, and how they played their part.

and thus i prayed for the lord to chasten me;
when i am impudent to discipline me.
for though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak,
and i, your child, am anything but meek.

so, father i pray for you to lay me low,
when i return to the old to rebuke me so.
hide me away whence the strong winds blow,
i plead to you, the shepherd of my soul.

life is fleeting, life is short,
but in you my soul found a place to hide.
whether in deed, in word, or in thought,
i pray thy grace in me abide.



from the future #1


i googled, ‘dear me’.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 4:6–7)

hey you,

by now, you’ve probably seen a few stories tell about how people receive from their future selves a letter detailing their various regrets and telling their younger selves to not repeat the same mistakes as they did.

this won’t be one of those letters.

things are alright. and that is why i am writing you this letter.

i’ll be honest. life gets harder. work will sometimes get suffocating, longing will sometimes lead to loneliness. along the way, you are going to make mistakes; things will not always go to plan; and some measure of suffering here and there is inevitable – but remember this:

‘all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’

God is good, and things will be alright.

when your problems seem overwhelming, remember the cross; when your hardships prove to be agonizing, remember the hope of eternity.

  do your best to watch yourself – do not let yourself be conceited, do not let yourself feel entitled, do not be cynical. instead be gentle, be humble, and be patient. there is no easy or magical way to Christlikeness; change will not come overnight. the mortifying of sin is a continuous, conscious, and very often arduous endeavour – a battle every step of the way.

i know you. you can be stubborn and sometimes slow to learn. and despite your initial enthusiasm you so often stray away. but as you mature and continue to better yourself, i want you to be encouraged of your hope.

doubt yourself, but trust God. with wisdom, think ahead and consider the lasting consequences. seek and listen to advice, even if you ultimately cannot take them. when caught up in moments, treat yourself to a healthy dose of introspection. last but not least, do not rush into things as and when your heart sings; instead, be willing to wait.

that’s all i have to say for now.

whether you will ultimately be disappointed with who you are when you get to where i am will depend (humanly speaking) completely on you.

so who are you going to be?


tomato red


i googled: ‘tomato red’

keep being afraid
of the things you have done and said;
of their consequences, and of their weight.
sweet and lovely is the image you cherish to bed;
lingering vividly in your thoughts: the tomato, red.
but don’t let your mind wander too far ahead
when nothing has yet to even come to a head.

should it happen, give thanks to God’s appointed fate,
should it not, still give thanks – don’t hang low your head.
for the Lord knows what’s best for you.
as shown in all that is past, and in time, all that was once new.
He knows better every colour and every hue
of the heart and mind you always thought you knew.
who’s to say if the words too few
or the peaks and troughs you at times feel
are not but shards of the chalice He has planned for you?

“Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me:
nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”
let be sober over sense of feeling, lest be blinded and not see;
let be loving, heart to feel, lest be selfish and come undone.