I’m little. I know it, with small bones that can break.

Tiny in stature and prone to mistake.

My arms can’t lift cars. I’ve never parted the seas.

Never spoken life into nature or healed a disease.

But, I feel powerful. I feel God’s strength on my back.

Coated in his provision, I’m safeguarded from attack.

Draped in his robe, muscle runs through my veins.

Through Him I’m a giant. I’ve destroyed the chains.

Released from captivity, I soar above the skyline.  

His fabric is stitched in my fiber. I’m redefined.

Superhuman strength—I have it in the King.

Principle and Power are written on my wings.

Helpless without Him, I can now scale walls.

Guarded by the angels, Glory is my battle call.

All praise and honor to my Commander-in-Chief.

All beauty and blessing attached to this belief.

In confidence I walk out on the water mimicking St. Peter.

Waves lapping at my shins, I don’t falter—never teeter.

For you line my legs with assurance. You’ve shared with me your force.

When I speak your name, Lord, you illuminate the course.

A bounce in my step, I’m confident in you.

You bestow such favor on children dedicated and true.

I don’t need a costume to display the power you give.

It’s written on my heart and exposed through the way I live.

-Kimberly Willingham

 

 Isaiah 40:28-31

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

 

 

There is no barrier between me and the sea. I look out at the waves. They capsize on the white sand hundreds of feet below me. I am absorbed in the roar of the misty pool in front of me. It seems endless—a crystal space infinite and mysterious.

You call me. Dive, my child, into the deep sea below. Drink in my goodness and my grace. Inhale my peace. Let it infiltrate your being. Lap up my wisdom. I will pour my insight upon you. I will fill your lungs with the water of my mercy.

Feet sliding closer to the edge, I look down, terrified at the jump. It  appears more like a fall to me. I hear the ocean—foaming, roaring and colliding into the colossal rocks. They break with violent fury and resound like crackling thunder.

Daughter, you call. Come, come to me. I will catch you. My arms are always outstretched. You can trust in my endless, unfailing love.

But, I cannot see you, I call. My God, I cannot see your hands! My body is trembling. How can I jump without seeing your presence, Savior. Show me, like Moses, your glory. Let your beauty touch my face. Engulf me in your radiance.

Beautiful one, I hear. Gaze up and look to the sun. Breathe in the dewy morning and sing out—cry out to nature. Cry out to me. Wake up the firmament with your voice. I will show you favor. I will reveal myself to you in time. Sweet child, do you feel me? I am holding onto you. I am clasping your hand. I am embracing your heart.

I feel your touch, sweet Jesus. It flushes over me like waves. You are like the ocean. You are like the visible pool below me. You flood all my senses. You infiltrate my body. When I breathe in the air around me, I gain power unmatched.

I will jump in faith. I will jump knowing that arms will be there to catch me. You will hold me. I will rest in the shadow of your wings. You will cover me and show me your wonders. You will reveal to me your glories. I will not rest until I see your face.

You are more beautiful than an angel. You are more priceless than lost treasure. Kings search for your grandeur. Yet, you reveal it only to those who seek you with all their hearts. My heart is exploding with love. I love you, God.

 I will jump in faith, not fall in disbelief.

Powerful steps. Prancing around me.

Circling in goodness, grace and beauty undue.

Waterfall of wisdom. You cascade on my soul.

Stitches of care. You remake me. I’m whole.

Like a trumpet of brass, I sound with delight.

Shining in gratitude atop a hill at night.

With blackness around me, I feel light inside my heart.

I see it in the distance. It calls—and hits me like a dart.

The pain is only for a moment. It makes me stronger.

Overcoming creates utmost splendor. Reinvigorates me longer.

Every step a wincing pain.  Every breath a deep anguish.

You speak over me, Dear Child, out of the pain fears vanquish.

God, I cry, how does sorrow create resilience?

 How does hardship release your brilliance?

Daughter of Mine, stop questioning my ways.

Sweet Flower, forget your fear and fall down amazed.

I will bless you. I have given you, child, tenfold.

You are genuine. You’ve never been fool’s gold.

Chase after the hem of my robe, little one.

Dance in its trail reflecting the midday sun.

Make use of your time. You are shining my name to the earth.

Bless me in public. To others, I’ll  display your utmost worth.

Kimberly Willingham

Genesis 1:3-5

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

 

 

Hands like a billowy, fiery, illuminated mass.

You hold me tender, light reflecting through stained glass.

Windows of wonder; yet, crafted in assured blows,

The crevices of this piece of art are now exposed.

Child, you whisper. My ear tickles with pure desire.  

You have fallen to your knees, so that I might take you higher.

I want to elevate you to the heavens. Ascend you to the throne room.

I want to play the golden harp for you—to make your body swoon.

You are my love—my prized possession.

I have dressed you in white. You bare my impression.

Here is my crown. Buckle it to your head of curls.

Seek after my integrity. Wear it like cultured pearls.

I bind my principles to the interior of your heart.

Stapled like the laws of old, may they never depart!

Lips seasoned like a poet, you will speak in wistful beauty.

Like a deer, the forest you’ll grace. It is your destined duty.

Striking child, Elegant Gem, You gleam like a bust divine.

Listen to my voice, dear one—for I am the enchanted vine.

You are the branches. You stretch out and grace the world with support.

But, I am your lifeline, tender one. I am the redeeming blood port.

Collect in my harbor, vessels of provision and power.

Drink in this richness. My goodness, I beckon you, devour.

Holy, like I am Holy. This I have called you to become.

Dress in battle armor—equipped with beating drum.

Circle me seven times. Gaze into the sky.

I am in the darkness. I erase the lie.

Do not believe in fables. Rely upon the Truth.

You are my beloved—Enlightened in your youth.

Kimberly Willingham

Psalm 71:16-18

 I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, Sovereign LORD; I will proclaim your righteous deeds, yours alone. Since my youth, God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come.

 

Rainbow shining through the clouds,

Glory breaking, the cymbals—loud.

On my face before my Master;

His blessings flow from a jar of alabaster.

Marble complexion—solid and strong features,

You call to my soul, I will beseech her!

To pour out my favor, I’ll breathe on her face.

I will stich my goodness in her dress made of lace.

I’ll place on her feet, buckles of desire.

And tie on her head a ribbon of fire.

She will call out my name in a voice of power.

She will climb tall mountains and dwell in my tower.

I’ve called her my chosen. Death shall not sting.

I’ve placed on her finger my signet ring.

My form shines upon her body so bright.

She illuminates the path with this light.

Shielded from a spiteful spirited attack,

My body is broken but will be mended back.

Seeking God in an earthly pursuit,

Clothed in leather—a thick, ruddy suit.

Arrows gleaming in my pocket,

Cross carved inside this hanging locket.

A feminine warrior, hair flowing in battle,

I mount my steed and ride sidesaddle.

Sword elevated to the sun, flickering steel.

Charging forth with one mission—to heal.

 Kimberly Willingham

 

Ezekiel 1:28

 Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around him. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD. When I saw it, I fell facedown, and I heard the voice of one speaking.

 

 

Fancy dreams in pleated state,

Ruffled up in hearts so great.

Locked with keys—passionate keepers,

Opening the crevices, arise, sweet sleepers.

Expose your eyes to the mercies above you.

Pick up the pebbles—for their properties renew.

Follow the footpath, though you hobble on the way.  

Clutch in your hand that graceful bouquet.

My child, I adore you. Hold tight to my treasures.

For they will protect you and provide you pure pleasure.

Fearlessly travel toward my smile. I’ll shine on your posture.

Bow your head in wonder. Beautiful dreams you foster.

I see your heart and feel your soul.

It beats in boldness. It breaks the mold.

You are unique, child, a babe in mature condition.  

Coddle you I will not—to wage war is your mission.

War for my kingdom, war for my name.

You value my worth like the first drops of rain.

Daughter, you see, this is your duty.

Dreams no longer dormant, Arise, Sleeping Beauty.

On you I will breathe all the power in me.

In you I will place true wisdom indeed.

Courage I give you made perfect in my direction.

You have my heart—my complete affection.

Jehovah is God-etched on your banner.

You will ride into battle in this fearless manner.

Trot on in esteem. Your master is King.

Cry out his greatness. Climb mountains and sing.

He is the bridegroom—the majestic lion.  

Shining in form. He reigns over Zion.

Kimberly Willingham

 

Isaiah 13:3-5

I have commanded those I prepared for battle; I have summoned my warriors to carry out my wrath— those who rejoice in my triumph. Listen, a noise on the mountains,   like that of a great multitude! Listen, an uproar among the kingdoms, like nations massing together! The LORD Almighty is mustering an army for war.

 

Swallowed by the shore, I’m bathing in the dawn.

Life and bread are joined. Hearts now beat as one.

Blood flows freely through me. It warms my veins and soul.

Your majesty latches to me. It stands like a totem pole.

You, my God, are statuesque—a pillar of beautiful bone.

Awesome beyond recognition—your works—fully unbeknown.

I marvel at your greatness. You flicker like a star.

I tremble at your thunder and mercies left ajar.

How blessed am I to taste the goodness of your hand.

How fortunate to wash myself in the purity of this man!

For I am clay. I crack and break in a dry and desolate state.

But, my God cleanses me with water. He moistens this arid slate.

Write on me Dear God—I’m a tablet prepared for words.

Encrypt upon my heart a poem of powerful verbs.

Stamp me with your seal. Pour hot wax upon my form.

I want to be embalmed with you—a symbol called reformed

-Kimberly Willingham

Deuteronomy 11: 18-19

Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.

 

Swallowed up in violent quakes,

Cracking pots, I tend to break.

I’m delicate and made of silk.

My ruffled edges drenched in milk.

Honey made from the sweetest nectar,

Line my lips with eternal vector!

Spinning in and out of line,

I comb my thoughts in line with Thine.

Master of Love, Bather of Truth,

Forever I am captured in my youth.

The Crafter of Destinies and Molder of Faith,

Holds my heart and keeps me safe.

Secure in the folded arms of Christ, my Savior,

He induces my life with emotive flavors.

Senses filled with powder from the finest jewels,

You reign my God, on the throne you rule.

Breaking hearts will lament in grief,

My heart remains steadfast. You have seized the thief.

Dressed in a frock of normal form,

You emblaze my feet in packed clay—warm.

Boiled in abundance, packed in majesty,

I twirl in your goodness and dance upon the sea.

Create in me an orchestra of stringed and wooden parts,

Father, following your goodness, sets this child apart.

Kimberly Willingham

Zechariah 14:20 

On that day HOLY TO THE LORD will be inscribed on the bells of the horses, and the cooking pots in the LORD’s house will be like the sacred bowls in front of the altar.

You are stunning my Lord, like a star in the sky.

Running toward you, I long to feel you nearby.

I am competing for a prize-irreplaceable and true.

I am contending for a goal—to feel the essence of you.

Human, I am human. I’m a sinner soiled in clay.

Regret, I feel. I need you to wash the dirt away.

I stumble, Lord, like a vagrant.

Why do I make mistakes so obvious and flagrant?

In need of a Savior, I come alone and broken.

Speak to me Lord, I long to hear true words spoken.

I do not deserve it—a life wrapped in treasures.

Worshipping you is my greatest pleasure.

Bowing my head at the foot of your throne,

My darkest, deepest sins you atone.

Who is this warrior? A man wrapped in steel.

Glorious on the inside, I cannot help but  kneel.

Jehovah, my light, direction and love.

You are all that matters. My healer, from above.

Create in me a washed heart—noble, always true.

Paint in brilliant colors on my face the light of you!

By: Kimberly Willingham

 

 

A stream of provision flows. Can you feel it? My eyes see the glory of the Lord coming near. Are you closer God? Can I smell your goodness? Your scent is sweet. It’s fragrant. The oil of hyssop streams from His garments. Like a pine forest entrenched in white snow, we cannot melt our form with your sturdy branches shielding us from harm. You have said you are a warrior, riding into battle with a lance in one hand and a sword in another. You ride fiercely on behalf of your love. We are your lovers.

You look us in the eyes—a pathway to our pupils—of intense, heartfelt captivation. You are a Miracle Man. You do not wear a cape or parade in brassy fashion. We hear the beating of the hooves of your stallion. He is white and draped in royal purple robes. Your eyes are kind, yet focused. Have you come to save the sick? Have you stormed in to heal the broken? I see you as a fighter—a man walking into a blazing house . You wear no defense and no helmet on your head. Your words are the power that defend and freeze the flames. Are you coming to ease our burns? Rescue quickly Savior.

Isaiah 32:3:

And the eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them that hear shall hearken.