Another Poem

Ice Princess

She jumps into Emerald Lake
Into a sea of faces, she becomes fierce
She begins to speak, laughing “Joy”
Freezing, she takes everything in

One girl changed, a woman to be
She begins a revolution…
Her past behind her, she looks ahead
Cold, her soul is weakened
Her life, a transformation…

She faces the pages of life, a closed book
Opening her soul, she begins to die
There is no Prince Charming in the world
That can save her from a castle on fire

Upon the sands her castle stood
The moonlit path guided her every step
The waves crashed into the stone-built mansion
Drowning in shame, her dreams shattered
The floods came and swept her away
Exiled, she reaches new heights

But home is calling, patiently waiting
For a revival, for inner strength
Her core to melt away, on fire again
Passionately seeking something more

The dragon sits on the left shoreline
Seeking to destroy her, who she will become
And she runs into her father’s embrace
A warm welcome, the prodigal daughter returns
Into love and into grace and into truth


I began writing poetry in high school and never shared my deepest thoughts with anyone – foolish thinking, a hopeless romantic I am. I was inspired to write about one of my favorite experiences on Summer Project, jumping into Emerald Lake. I came out freezing but relieved. Two years ago on a family vacation we visited numerous national parks, sometimes driving by the beautiful scenery. This time I was able to experience God’s creation first hand.

Just some thoughts as I make my journey home again.

A New Poem -- The Black Rose

The Black Rose

Wilted with the pain of her past
She seeks hope for a brighter future
Thirsty she clings for life, a new beginning
Hungry she walks into the wilderness -- alone
A restless spirit she has, reddened by the desire to love

She once was crowned with laurel
Beautiful in her quiet determination
A small voice whispering to be heard
Her intellect seeks to destroy her
Her wisdom causes her to stumble

She seeks to undo who she has become
Inside her hardened soul torments
Those who love her
Outside she masks an image of strength
Armored and fierce – a soldier in an army

Her words are cunning
Her beauty is deceptive, charming a king
A queen to be, a lady in waiting
Seeking peace in a circle of quiet
Solitude: into the wild she runs

Cut from the bush, she withers away
Misplaced, rooted in guilt and shame
She fell from grace, seeking happiness
Seeking knowledge and truth, she stands
Watered by the spirit of grace, she trembles

A voice inside still waits to be heard
Excited she leaps into the unknown
Forgetting her place, her calling home
She must live her life in third place
Taking baby steps into a new life

_____________________________________________________________

My first name Elizabeth (or Beth) means "God's promise" in Hebrew, my middle name Ann means "favored grace" in the same language. It's strong, it's restless, and it's determined. Both were queens of England in the 16th century: one became a powerful monarch, the virgin queen; the other charmed her way to the throne with her cunning ambition; one died and the other lived: a mother and a child. I am not them. But their history was partial to understanding who I am.

Needles and Mosquitoes

How do you find a needle in a haystack? By picking through the hay until it pokes long enough. How does that needle become a lily, budding with fruit. Clearly this summer has been a wake-up call that I have friends all over the world -- I am that wonder to myself. I have been sleeping too long and too hard.

Everyone in my life has been speaking to me since the beginning. I didn't understand all the pain and suffering, but I have to change my habits -- for my own good. I think too much. I have to hide behind this computer and write and write and write. It will be hard while I am in school and hard to focus. I have to write to people as if I am writing to myself. When I get back home I will need to post the poems of my past -- because that is what I've been hiding. I have reached a breaking point here in Colorado, but I need to stay. My family has been wanting the real me back, the one they saw brighten up and open herself to possibilies in high school. They want me back: to keep the memories of the past and look toward the future. After the fire of 1999, I became stuck and confused. My parents always took me back to that lot and showed me that a new house was constructed in its stead. I have to continue to rebuild my house -- and write the stories of my life. So it begins with now as I salvage the memories of my past. I wish I could burn the books I've read -- but I've always been in the library, reading. Now I have to scan the books of my past and move on.

Sarah Grace

A Slightly New Name

I don't think that I can ever go by Elizabeth again. I know that the poeple who know me as Elizabeth (like family and close friends) Beth-Ann is better. Not only does it show my timid side of myself, but it shows my overly ambigious side. I remember reading Little Women (and taking it in word for word) and wanting to be like Jo March (always theatrical and always writing), but felt more like Beth. I can also credit my friend Cameron for actually choosing the best nickname for me -- plus it is easier to say. You were never shaken, you took charge (Psalms 15). You listened to my ramblings as I vented off my anger and pain, in a very confusing way.

With cups of Earl Grey tea in hand (3x a day), I can write again. Although I am very much like Beth, the Boleyn ambition gets me down. I am Ann: Ann without the 'e.' That drive can be hard to control, being a woman in a Man's world. But then there's always that 'Lady Knight' -- that Eowyn in that crowd of men. Although I see myself as Eowyn, I sometimes (not always) have the wisdom of Gandalf; sometimes it is more foolish, like Radagast the Brown.

I have dug my whole deep in regrets: a dreamer like Joseph, but like Daniel caught in a Lion's den. It's a beautiful metaphor to describe my life.

Since moving to Rock Hill, SC I feel it quite appropriate to call this blog Traveller's Rest. Not only is it a town in Rock Hill, but it's how I feel.

A New Heart -- A Wayward Soldier -- Berry Fulfilling

After closely examining the end of the script for "The Return of the King," I was left suprised by Gandalf's wisdom, "I will not say: 'Do not weep,' for not all tears are evil." This summer is a bitter-sweet reminder that God is love. I have denied myself the joy of writing time and time again: I have been denying God's gift. I didn't grasp the concept that you must love what you do, and do what you love. Although that may seem paradoxal, it is not.

As I grapple with my refined faith in God, friends can provide guidance and wisdom, and I must allow them to. I must ask for their help as they strengthen me. I can think of many friends who have melted away the course metal of my hardened heart. As Proverbs 27:17 says, "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." When I think of something being sharpened I think of a pencil sharpener. At some point the pencil lead narrows: you marked the spot. If I am to write, it must come from the heart.

My first name Elizabeth which means "oath of God." I have always been skeptical about an interpretation. An oath means I must have a commitment to God, not just a one night's stand but a marriage in Christ -- in His truth. I will only receive rest in God when I ask for it. I have a restless spirit. Augustine writes to God "You made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it finds rest in you." That rest is coupled with the revelation of our imperfections, of our lustful pleasures, and of our desires.

The head knowledge I have of God is finally becoming heart knowledge. Yesterday evening after the last discipleship meeting, the three of us (Kristen, Tessa, and I) went to Jamba Juice and they flavor I chose was Berry Fulfilling. Inwardly I was thinking it has been a very fulfilling time here in Colorado. I have found a new life verse (chapter): Psalms 15.

Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary?
who may live on your holy hill?

He whose walk is blameless
and who does what is righteous,
who speaks the truth from his heart
and has no slander on his tongue,
who does his neighbor no wrong
and casts no slur on his fellow man,
who despises a vile man
but honors those who fear the Lord,
who keeps his oath
even when it hurts,
who lends his money without usury
and does not accept a bribe against the innocent.

He who does things things
will never be shaken.

I know myself a little too well, but now I have the opportunity to know friends and family -- get invovled in other's lives. That is my goal. I know I have formed a bubble around me; but gradually people (friends and family) in my lives have broken it. Just to get to know me, personally. I am letting go of myself, but unless friends and family keep poking me, I will continue to keep the barrier up -- hiding from my worst fears, hiding in shame, and so on.

I am still on Summer Project, but there is a possibility that I am may have to go home -- not like a defeated, helpless puppy; instead embracing life with wholehearted vigor.

Examining even the past six months, I have grown and matured. The process was gradual and I experienced joy and then pain. But who doesn't? The answer: because I wasn't following God wholehearted (honestly a scary thought for me). I spent two hours perusing through Barnes & Noble Bookstore and knew I had to pick up "Shattered Dreams" by Larry Crabb and the topics he touches on (such as self-protection) spoke to me. I am naturally a dreamer, but recently my "earthly" dreams have weirdly and unexpectedly become a spiritual wake-up call.



I have been uneasy and restless since coming to Colorado, which is suggestive to my selfish desires and ambitions. Not so humbling, is it? I couldn't sleep because I was truly wrestling with God. I couldn't find peace in God until I was convicted of my sin. The first verse of "In Christ Alone" amazes me:

In Christ alone my hope is found,

He is my light, my strength, my song;

this Cornerstone, this solid Ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm.

What heights of love, what depths of peace,

when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!

My Comforter, my All in All

Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! who took on flesh

Fulness of God in helpless babe!

This gift of love and righteousness

Scorned by the ones he came to save

Till on that cross as Jesus died,The wrath of God was satisfied

-For every sin on Him was laid

Here in the death of Christ I live.




There in the ground His body lay

Light of the world by darkness slain

Then bursting forth in glorious

DayUp from the grave he rose again!

And as He stands in victory

Sin's curse has lost its grip on me

For I am His and He is mine -

Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death

This is the power of Christ in me

From life's first cry to final breath.

Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man

Can ever pluck me from His hand

Till He returns or calls me home

Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.



I will to able to pray with dignified compassion, I will be able to worship my Savior, and I will be able to serve Him with a humble heart.



During our last Soul to Soul large group meeting, my mentor Dana Cline encouraged me by emphasizing the joy she felt in my determination to hike Long's Peak and in my passion for words. Using John 1:1 she was able to describe this passion. I think I have always known I am most passionate for writing, which means I should pursue it full-time. I should spend more time writing; but I have discovered that my best writing is divinely inspired. Sometimes I cannot budge unless I have thoroughly thought the assignment through, sometimes writing it at the last minute.

In Christ Alone

I have learned so much while I have been here in Fort Collins. Whether or not I leave is determined by God's will. I do not know where He will lead me, but I want to follow Him wholeheartedly.



I know I don't understand, I have been foolish to think I ever did.

A Sinner and a Saint

Let me be honest, I am a dreamer. One of my dreams a couple of years ago, I remember seeing white doves flying through a white blanketed sheet. After telling one of my friends here about the dream last night, she said convincingly, "God doesn't do magic." And He doesn't; He performs miracles and He transforms lives.



I have been wrestling with a lot of stuff (from my past) that I have trouble understanding. Things I am ashamed of, things I regret, and so on. I am realizing that I am more of a sinner than a saint; but in Christ I am both. I have wandered away and Jesus is taking me back one step at a time. I am broken and I have fallen. Being lifted up again will be difficult



When I ask questions, I am curious. I ask myself more questions -- a doubting Thomas, per se (John 20: 24-29).

A New Day

A new adventure, a new time zone, new friends--everything is new in Colorado. I haven't yet gotten into a routine here. The National Staff Conference is the last week of July--we have nearly one month to prepare and to create various projects.

I have almost been here for two weeks! 6 weeks to go until I go home.

feels heartbroken...