hems and notions. a poem.

i used a colored pencil to mark the seam 

against the same heel that 14 years before 

pressed against the inside 

of my belly and made me giggle with the hope of

what he will be.

I used a hot iron to stiffen the creases 

and a needle to press through the fabric 

tacking up the hem

tugging at my heart.

what’s a mama to do with the bittersweet seams

on one side, the world

on the other, emptying arms


He knows. Hope and encouragement for #csa #survivors. 

For anyone who’s ever been told to hush, or that no one will believe you, or that your story is too dark to be told. 

God knows your pain.

He sees your wounds–and every person who ever inflicted them.

He heals.

He restores.

And He will bring justice.



one thing.

it’s loud out 

there, everyone with a sign, 

a banner, a stage.

all the world is one, after all. 

lost somewhere is 

a Man 

with an embrace for a droopy shoulder

a seat next to him on the bus

a bottle to count every tear

and somehow, armed with only those 

simple things

He still changes the world.