Preorder a signed copy of This Will Not Last!!!

Preorder a signed copy of This Will Not Last!!!

It’s true…we’re two weeks away from release day and you can now place your preorder for a signed copy of This Will Not Last!

Click here to preorder.:)

What the preorder special includes:

  • a signed copy of This Will Not Last
  • a poem from the collection hand-lettered on a greeting card so you can share the gift of poetry with a friend
  • free shipping!!!

Preorder your copy now!

Raw and achingly honest, This Will Not Last is a collection of poetry that captures the fluctuating emotions that lace life’s pathway. 

Wonder, grief, happiness, and heartache all have their turn to shine in this collection, ultimately bowing to the truth of their transience…and the sturdy realization of God’s unshakeable goodness.  

this death 

this shedding 

of all I’ve known 

must come before the rays of sun 

burst bright upon my soul 

to wake 

a seed of what’s to come. 

this death 

this dying will not last 

this, too 

this, too 

this, too, shall pass. 

I’m so, so excited to finally be able to get this book out to you all next month!!!

– Laurel

First Love – a poem

First Love – a poem

Hello, friends!

I wrote this poem the other morning…aren’t you so grateful for a God who makes all things new?

Sidenote: I cannot wait to smell the white clover again this summer.❤

when I stop to think about it…

I miss the days when

I first fell in love with You.

when all of life shone because of

the beauty You sparked in my heart…

when everything reminded me of You –

a frosted oak leaf

the scent of white clover

a baby’s giggle –

and nothing seemed

too daunting to face

with You.

You haven’t changed…

my heart has calloused.

oh, may I be

tender again to

Your whisper

Your smile

Your thoughtfulness

in choosing my heart as

Your treasure.

You make all things new…

God bring me back to

the passion of my first love.

P.S. If you’d like to get a signed copy of This Will Not Last, stay tuned for preorders opening up next Monday!!! *bounces off walls*

Photo by Timothy Dykes on Unsplash

I’m rallying a street team!

I’m rallying a street team!

Hello friends!

If you’d love to play a part in sharing my poetry with the world, this post is for you!

(If you wouldn’t love to play a part in sharing my poetry with the world, this post attempts to convince you into loving that idea.:) )

If you decide to join my street team, here’s what you can expect:

  • an email with more details, soon!
  • a role in helping me launch my book into the world by sharing graphics + posts I’ve already prepared (unless you’d like to write your own posts, which is definitely encouraged!!!)
  • updates on my little book’s progress
  • fun bookish freebies

Sound like fun? Fill out this form to join the team!

I’d so love to have you on board! Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

Also… the title of my poetry book will be announced on Monday, January 17th. Provided the hostile winter has not frozen my fingers off, thus leaving me incapable of typing up the announcement.

One can only hope and dress warmly.

Freeze not!

<3 Laurel

Another Poem

Another Poem

Hello, friends!

Graduation – for me at least – is/was a bittersweet time. Yes, you’re saying goodbye to several things. But you’re also opening the door to SO much!!

Soak it all in, graduates. Thank God for the past. Trust him for the future. This poem is for you.💕

I’m striking out into waters unknown –

Waters I’ve spent hours dreaming of.

In my dreams the ocean called my name –

The wind sang a melody that

gripped me.

I longed to dip my toes into the waters of

adulthood.

But my childhood

and the familiar

have twined about my throat and blossomed

memories.

The smell is sweet –

how can I tear them away?

I look ahead at the ocean stretched before me.

It’s darker than I thought.

Rougher, too.

Tears well in my eyes as Time pushes me to the

water’s edge.

I’m scared.

How can I make my way in such a storm?

I don’t even know where I’m going.

Slowly, light ebbs across the waves,

and I can see the path I’m standing on

continue

through the sea.

I cannot see its twists and turns,

but the path is

still there.

I’m simply traveling on –

doing what I was made to do.

Slowly

tenderly

I pluck the flowers from the vines and

tuck them away

where their fragrance will always

linger near.

I take the tangled vines,

gently loosing their grasp.

I let them fall now to the shore

and I step into the sea.

The Day You Died for Me

The Day You Died for Me

Another poem for you today!

The spikes they drive into Your hands
Are pinning down the base demands
My flesh makes of this life.
Poured onto You is all the wrath
I’ve pent up for myself – this bath
Of pain was meant for me.
Whippings
Stabbings
Piercings
Shame –
Hatred
Malice
Awful stains
Of sin were bringing these on me
But You stepped in, said, “Let her free –
I love her – punish Me.”

I weep here as I hear You groan
In agony I have not known
Because of what I’ve done.
How could I bring such awful pain
On You – the One Who speaks my name
With love and songs of joy?
The sky is black – Your voice is loud
“It is finished!” hears the crowd
Before You bow Your head.
Rumblings
Crumblings
Quakings
Dead
Are stirring –
Now lift up their heads
As sin’s dark curse forever breaks –
The broken heart inside me shakes
In awe of what You’ve done.

This matchless love – like crashing waves –
Has swept this haughty white-washed grave
And washed it of its rights.
I see this life’s not truly mine –
You gave me Yours for all of time
The day You died for me.
Such love deserves all I can give –
All that I want now is to live
To hear You say, “Well done.”
Friendships
Free time
Choices –
They
Are Yours –
I pray, Lord, day by day
To live this life to make You proud
And unashamed to be my God.
I love you, Lord – I’m Yours.

Three-Year-Old Poem

Three-Year-Old Poem

First of all, the photo has absolutely nothing to do with this poem. But who doesn’t like knotholes on old doors?:)

As the title says, I wrote this poem three years ago this spring. At the time, it was my pride and joy. While I can now see many of its flaws, it still holds a special place in my heart. One of the reasons I love it is because it points me back to simple truth. I hope it can be a blessing to you, as well.

I don’t understand.

I don’t.

There are times, Lord,

When I,

The pen in Your hand,

Long to

Spring from Your mighty

All-knowing

Grasp, with a cry of,

“No, no!

That isn’t the way!

Here!

Let me show You how!”

But that

Is as silly as a toddler

Grasping

The brush of a masterful artist.

A clock

Does no good without clockwork

And so

I do no good without You.

With no

Master I lie here, my ink pouring

Out

A miserable, meaningless

Blot.

But in Your loving hand

My life

Is a song – a beautiful witness

To You.

So here – take my tears, though many

There be

And do what You will with them.

And here –

Take my years, though few they may

Be

And use them to glorify

You.

Love Song – A Poem

Love Song – A Poem

Happy Monday, all!

(It really is a happy Monday… the weather is amazing here right now.)

So… I procrastinated this past weekend. Imagine that. So today scampers around and fills up with a few time-consuming surprises. Thus, we ditch all plans for a thought-provoking article (because it remains half-written at present) and default to…

A poem.

I wrote this one last month, I think, and I really love it. I hope you do, too.:)

can’t remember

a time

I didn’t know

You loved me.

always

each day

You sang a song of love

to me

so freely

it didn’t matter how

I’d hurt You with

the words I’d said

the thoughts I’d

cherished

You

were always there

chasing

my heart

You were

relentless

in Your love

still are

I wonder what I did

with these dirty hands

to earn

Your faithfulness

how could I be so

vile

and yet so

loved

by the God of

holiness?

blood

drips

down

love

gave

all

for me

I’m free

free to love You

delight in You

serve You

give all for You

some call it

mad –

is it

mad

to give all

for the

One

you

love?

who gave

all

for

you?

friend, meet love.

In Love – a Poem

In Love – a Poem

Happy Monday, all!

Please know that this story – this incredible love – is absolutely real, and extended to you. God loves you more than you can fathom.:)

How He can think

I’m

Lovely

Is a

Mystery to me.

That He would

Choose

This

Wobbly soul

To fight for

Him and

His

Seems like an act of…

What?

He knows I’m not

Enough.

He knows that I’m not

Strong.

He knows the

Winds

That pound this

Heart

Near steal its beat

Some days

And yet

He chooses me.

Seems like an act of…

What?

He feels each

Hurt

More deeply than

My own heart

Ever will.

He weeps

When

Self-love

Steals

My heart

And yet…

He wants me still.

Clothes catching on the

Brambles

That are tearing at His

Skin

He fights

For me

And takes me as

His own.

He stays.

This is an act of…

Love.

It leaves me

Breathless

Tearful and

Completely forever

In love.

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

I know… poetry ranked lowest on the poll I posted a couple of weeks ago (a huge thank you to everyone who answered that!). But my mind has felt like Jell-O recently, so I’m drawing from the reserves today.:) Hopefully my brains will be back soon, and I’ll have a little more to offer you guys!

Anyway…

This is a poem written by my fifteen-year-old self. It came into being one night when I was really struggling to accept what God was doing with a situation in my life. Now, in volatile 2020, it’s a blessing to come back to this poem again and be reminded of where God wants my heart to be.

This is one of the first freestyle poems I wrote… and though it’s not quite as fantastic as I used to think it was :), I hope it’s a blessing to you today.

I don’t understand.

I don’t.

There are times, Lord,

When I,

The pen in Your hand,

Long to

Spring from Your mighty

All-knowing

Grasp, with a cry of

“No, no!

That isn’t the way!

Here!

Let me show You how!”

But that

Is as silly as a ditch-digger

Grasping

The brush of a masterful artist.

A clock

Does no good without clockwork

And so

I do no good without You.

With no

Master I lie here, my ink pouring

Out

A miserable, meaningless

Blot.

But in Your loving hand

My life

Is a song – a beautiful witness

To You.

So here – take my tears, though many

There be

And do what you will with them.

And here –

Take my years, though few they may

Be

And use them to glorify

You.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Generations – A Poem

Generations – A Poem

My latest poem… tell me what you think of it!

A torrent of green

They burst on the scene-

Ready to take on the world.

Confident – oh, so

Confident

They

Could change the world with

Their song.

So they did.

What once was a forest of

Bleak

Monochrome

Soon became an explosion of

Verdure.

They gladdened the hearts of

The weak and the strong

The fearful and brave

The old and the young.

As the days turned to

Weeks

And the weeks turned to

Months

Their glory was ripening to

Rust

And they knew that their

Sweet days were

Short.

Yet they glowed

And they sang

In the grasp of the wind

That was stealing them

Far, far away on its

Breath

And they fell to their

Death

At the foot of the trees

That were helpless

To bring them to life.

A waste of a season?

They knew that they’d

Lived

The fullness of days

Appointed

To them.

So they sank into time –

Having burst upon

Us

For a moment –

And broke into

Sod

For successors.

Photo by John Silliman on Unsplash