Holy Tuesday

Maybe it’s my age, 33,

the year of Jesus’ last week in His lackluster body.

There has been a swelling in the world,

a crescendo in my spirit as right before the awful crowning.

Four times I’ve felt it in my body.

Deep vocal roars in the descending,

everything pressing down, bearing, milking.

Hands gripped in sheet-ripping strength,

my body poured. The temperature is up.

Ring of fire, it’s coming.

Take a deep breath.

Now push.


About me


Reply March 26, 2013

praying for all He desires to pour out in you and through you Amber as you continue to surrender and bend to His will

Reply March 26, 2013

You should do this more.

The poetry part, not the having kids part... :)

Reply March 26, 2013

(and grasp
firm, that gift,
as slippery as it somedays

thank you for this beauty.


Elizabeth W. Marshall
Reply March 26, 2013

Thank you for birthing the beautiful. Hold fast to the beautiful. And when you walk out these parallel places with you pen, I stand frozen, as in a sacred place

Jill Roberts
Reply March 26, 2013

I love visiting "the RunaMuck", Amber! Your writings are a bright light... so refreshing and inspiring! Blessings to your beautiful household -from Alabama!

Tanya Marlow
Reply March 27, 2013


Kelly @ Love Well
Reply March 27, 2013

Chills. I feel that too - the crescendo and then the silence and then the cry.


Dawn @ My Home Sweet Home
Reply March 28, 2013

I got pregnant with my fifth child the week I turned 32, so I carried Chloe most of my 33rd year. It felt important to do something significant with my 33rd year and it certainly turned out that way. :)

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