I have clinked my way up the steepest coasters and been flailed into free-falls, turned inside loops so tightly that I let my limbs go and just smiled in submission to the wind and tangled hair.

I have abused drugs so that the world felt a fluffy pillow and so that the trees made me laugh. I have experienced the ecstasy of otherworldness, orchestras in my chest, the calm of a pill in my pocket.

I have fallen in love with beauty, looked so deeply into the grayest infant eyes that I found myself swimming in oceans, hurled into visionary states.

I have read aloud and written poetry that has made me weep in public, in front of strangers. I have wanted to die at the sight of dance, two bodies so in unison that the very hairs on the back of my own neck electrified at the slightest movement, precision, calculation, magic.

I have bent down on my hands and knees and crawled on my stomach and elbows to the edge of the Cliffs of Moher, my head 701 feet above the Atlantic ocean, the gusts cutting at my skin, the eyes unable to focus at the distance below, the spirit vertigo so strong that I soared outside of my body on salty sheer winds.

But nothing compares to the rush of security that comes with knowing I’m following God, pillow of cloud by day and Fire by night who knows the song of the morning star and the shouts of angels and the womb of the sea – what it feels like to want to make Him pleased, the fear at His just feet.

About me


the fire and the blog: how to receive mercy
October 29, 2010
How a Life Can Support a Life: Part 2
October 06, 2010
on soul rest and how the dreams change
July 14, 2010
My Nineveh. My Africa.
June 29, 2010
Age Thirty
June 07, 2010
NightLight Guide: the Calm and the Storm
May 28, 2010
giving up asking for tomorrow’s bread
May 11, 2010
Perspectives: A Sermon From the Mount, Part 3
March 17, 2010
On Why I Write
February 24, 2010


Reply May 10, 2010

You leave me nodding and speechless. Beautiful, my friend.

Reply May 10, 2010

another speechless wanderer here.

Cassie Boorn
Reply May 10, 2010

Speechless here too.

I must go and soak this all in.

Reply May 10, 2010

Simply amazing. Thank you for sharing the dark with The Light.

Reply May 10, 2010

Wow. Beautiful and Amazing.

Kristen@Moms Sharpening Moms
Reply May 10, 2010


Reply May 10, 2010

Beautiful. Thank you.

Elizabeth (@claritychaos)
Reply May 10, 2010

Amber, I envy your faith. I am right there with you through the whole thing, having been there myself, until I get to the end and I have to be honest and say I don't know that rush. I don't...but your words are strong enough to make me question why I don't crave it, why I don't desire that to be enough....
I could go on, but maybe I'll save it for an email sometime...;)

Thanks for making me think and digest even after I've clicked away from the page. You know this, but I think your writing is just beautiful, friend.


Adventures In babywearing
Reply May 10, 2010

Oh deep breath, yes. I laughed at trees, how their leaves in the breeze were like hands clapping (even then, not fully there, I witnessed a tree praising Him.)

I love Elizabeth's comment, too.


Reply May 11, 2010

Thank you Elizabeth for having the courage to comment. I'm with you.

Reply May 13, 2010

I'm with you... besides the salt wind. Just add in the Texas tumbleweed gusts instead. Then we're twinkies - except I haven't offered to give up the blog. Yet.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *