The Risen King’s Love

MEME - Mark 16 v 6 - He is Risen! - Photo by Alan

I came to Him broken, fearful, and weary.

I listened to His promises, hopeful but leery.

How could I trust Someone I couldn’t see?

How could the King of Kings love someone like me?


I leaned in to hear Him, scouring through His Word.

Begging for answers, I longed to be heard.

Why would God’s Son die so I could be free?

Why would He care about someone like me?


I came to Him hungry, empty, with scars.

Longing for love, my heart locked behind bars.

When would His mercy and grace help me see,

Christ took my place on the cross . . . loving me?


Jesus, my Savior, He died in my place.

He rose three days later and saved me by grace.

How can I submit if I’m supposed to be free?

How can I resist . . . if He lives just for me?


Come to Him broken, fearful, or weary.

He can be trusted, no need to be leery.

When trials and heartache are all you can see,

know the Risen King loves you . . . just like He loves me.


Photo taken and used with permission by my husband, Dr. W. Alan Dixon, Sr.

Meme created by Xochitl E. Dixon.

Facebook Twitter Email

A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem


“A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon


’Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the land,

not a writer was stirring, none lifted a hand.

With paper and pencils put up with great care,

scribes opened their Bibles, to meet Jesus there.


Refreshing their spirits−they’d intended to do−

inhaling the Scriptures, believing they’re true.

With nary an argument, all snuggled in grace,

each writer excited to seek the Lord’s face.


A break from the hurry, they needed this season,

to affirm, with great hope, that Christ was their reason.

Yes, God−above all−gave them purpose to write.

The Lord−above all−was their Hope and their Light.


They prayed for their loved ones. They prayed for their readers.

They prayed for their projects, their friends, and their leaders.

Hearts fully surrendered, they asked God to be clear.

They asked Him for wisdom to last through next year.


Each writer confessed their worldly behavior.

They wanted so much to be changed by their Savior.

Transformed by God’s love and empowered by grace,

these writers prepared for the obstacles they’d face.


Discouragement. Doubt. Some would even fight fear.

But, the scribes would not quit. Not today. Not next year.

They had readers to serve, with each word and each story.

In the power of the Spirit, they’d write for God’s glory.


Be it novels or poems, their message the same.

Through devotions and articles, they’d spread the Lord’s name.

No frets over platform. With no worries, they’d edit.

With courage they’d write and give God all the credit.


Honing their craft, they’d trust the Lord’s choices.

They’d share the Good News, with their God-given voices.

In courage and faith, they’d gather for training.

No comparing, competing, criticizing, complaining.


They’d encourage each other, giving Jesus their best.

But the day before Christmas, in God’s presence they’d rest.

There’d be time to meet deadlines, to critique, to write brave.

And they’d make time to reflect on all that God gave.


’Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the land,

Christian writers were resting secure in God’s hand.

They’d surrendered their dreams to the Lord and obeyed.

In His unchanging character, their hope and faith stayed.


No matter what words the Lord gave them to write,

it was His words they’d ponder, each day and each night.

Equipped with His truth and empowered by grace,

these scribes would persist, content with God’s pace.


They’d honor their Savior and bask in His love.

They’d serve with great gladness, as He watched from above.

With total submission, on God they’d depend.

They’d trust in His plan and be willing to bend.


Though some days would be harder and tempt them to hide,

the Spirit of God would be with each brave scribe.

With challenges ahead and struggles so real,

they’d follow the High Priest, who knows how they feel.


Springing to action, with words at the ready,

God’s scribes, moving forward, persevering and steady.

Filled with deep joy, they’d shout into the night,

“On this Christmas we rest. For tomorrow, we write!”





“A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem,” was written by Xochitl E. Dixon on December 23, 2016. “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon appeared first as a personal blog post on December 23, 2016 at and may not be copied, printed, or dispersed in part or in its entirety, without expressed written consent from the author, Xochitl E. Dixon. “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon, may be shared on social media accounts, by using the share buttons on Xochitl E. Dixon’s personal website, or the share buttons under the December 24, 2016 posting of this poem on the Inspire Christian Writers website. “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon may be shared through the various options offered through social media, as long as the original author is credited. However, “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon may not be shared, in part or in its entirety, on a personal or community website without expressed written consent from Xochitl E. Dixon. Please submit your request to share on a personal or community website in the comment section below the original posting of the poem on Xochitl E. Dixon’s personal website or the Inspire Christian Writers website. When sharing this poem on social media accounts, please note the following: “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon. The original link for “A Christian Writer’s Christmas Poem” by Xochitl E. Dixon is:

Photo taken by and Meme created by X.E. Dixon.


Facebook Twitter Email

Tappin’ Out (Poem)







I’m tired.

Tired of being a dollar short and a day too late.

Tired of being told to be patient and wait.

Not smart enough. Not strong enough. Not good enough.

Just not enough.


Wear this. Have that. Do this. Be that.

Everyone wants it. Everyone does it.

Everyone gets it,

but me.


Sometimes, I want to scream.


But instead, I lift my head,

put on my mask,

smiling, self-relying.

I’ve got it.

This won’t break me.

But, I’m lying.


Pressures. Tap.

Expectations. Tap.

Obligations. Tap.


The wind whispers, “Be still, and know . . .”

The paths beckon.

Which way should I go?

“I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

Lord, how can I keep on

through suffering and strife?


I’m tired.


“Come to Me, all you who are

weary and burdened

and I will give you rest.”


Lord, help me believe You. Help me receive You.

Help me know, it’s only Your truth

I can cleave to.


I’m tired.


Tired of trying to be it all, have it all, control it all.

I’m one step away from losing it all.

Can’t do enough. Can’t have enough. Can’t be enough.

But You,

Jesus, You are enough.


I’m tired.


I slump to my knees. Tap.

Trust You with my pleas. Tap.

Surrendered, I’m free.




Tappin’ Out by Xochi E. Dixon, from the Life Psalms Collection, was previously published on the Real Teen Faith website on September 3, 2009.

Photo taken by and used with permission from Lauren Pfahlert.


Facebook Twitter Email

He is Here! – A Poem for Garden of Innocence

Baby Gripping Finger by LEP 2011







He’s Here!

By Xochi E. Dixon


My life makes a difference, no matter the span.

I’m designed with a purpose, a part of God’s plan.


Every hair on my head, whether peach fuzz or long,

has been numbered by Jesus, to Whom I belong.


The depth of His love and the width of His grace,

will hold you up firm, as you remember my face.


Though I’m going before you, I mattered to God.

In His presence, protected by His staff and His rod.


No more pain. No more tears. No more worries. No fears.

I’m safe in the arms of my Savior. He’s here!




I wrote this poem in response to a request through Inspire Christian Writers.

The service for the babies being buried by Garden of Innocence will be held on September 21, 2013. For more information, contact Brianna at

Please pray for these babies and for this event, as the Holy Spirit leads and help spread the word about this ministry.

If you are a writer, please click on this link to a post written by Beth Thompson, president of Inspire Christian Writers, to read the details on how you can “contribute a poem (or several) for this event and help provide a dignified burial for these precious children.”


Photo taken by Lauren Pfahlert

Facebook Twitter Email

How the Gardener Grows









As the sun embraces the barren land,

the Gardener chips the cracking shell.


Sifting past chunks of rocky regrets,

He plucks weeds of worry and want,

savoring the aroma of new earth.



He rakes fingers through crumbling clay,

molding and smoothing, securing His seed

deep into the heart.


His vat overflows.


Shimmering streams of sun-speckled water,

soften, nourish, restore the soil.


Seasons pass.


Revitalizing rains coax forth buds.

Clinging vines sprout.


Beloved branches weather the winds,

bending steady and sure,

bearing purple marbles,

sweetened by truth and

grown to serve the guests seated at His table.


Harvest begins.


Time paints splashes of mustard,

amber and crimson dreams.


The Gardener weeps,

docking scars of impurities that hinder

new branches from birthing an abundance of fruit.


He clips. He cuts. He carves.


He sculpts through the calloused concerns

and twisted knots of neglect,

knowing freshly pruned branches

rely on the Root

for healing.


He rejoices as they stand firm

through the storms, saturated by His Spring,

breathing life after death

and always reaching for the sun.


2012 Life Psalms Collection by X. E. Dixon

Photo by X. E. Dixon



Facebook Twitter Email

Eyes Wide Open







The world will feed me nonsense,

tell me quit or compromise,

convince me I am nothing,

beat me down with blatant lies.


Standards, what I should be,

what I could be, with their tricks.

But my life belongs to Jesus,

so I don’t need their measuring sticks.


God says I am marvelously made,

with purpose I’m created.

I’m loved, forgiven, highly favored.

It’s not that complicated.


It doesn’t matter what I have,

my status or my size.

I can leave the past behind me.

Renewed in Him, I rise.



“We were therefore buried with him through baptism

into death in order that, just as Christ was raised

from the dead through the glory of the Father,

we too may live a new life.” (Romans 6:1, NIV)


“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;

the old has gone, the new has come!” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NIV)


2012 Life Psalms Collection

Photo by W. Alan Dixon, Sr.


Facebook Twitter Email

Stepping Out of the Boat







Through charcoal clouds, my faith you bade.

“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”


My straying glances follow wind

‘til I sink deep in doubting sin.


Cries of anguish and desperate fear

are squelched by hope for You stay near.


Moved by love, You keep my hand.

As winds die down, You help me stand.


Still, stepping out of the boat, I must

depend upon Your grace to trust.






“Stepping Out of the Boat” by X. E. Dixon

2012 Life Psalms Collection




“When the disciples saw [Jesus] walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.


But Jesus immediately said to them: ‘Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.’


‘Lord, if it’s you,’ Peter replied, ‘tell me to come to you on the water.’


‘Come,’ he said.


Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’


Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. ‘You of little faith,’ he said, ‘why did you doubt?’”


(Matthew 14:26-31, NIV)




Facebook Twitter Email

Butterfly Wishes







in a cocoon of

insignificance and doubt.

Tearing away layers

of discouragement and fear.

Past hurts peeled back.

Resentment pushed aside.

Twisting. Turning.

Wrinkled wings wrestle free,

drenched and ready

to be restored by His sun.

A whirling breeze

tickles away inhibitions.

Wings span, pressing

higher and higher.

Through struggle

a beauty





“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;

the old has gone, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17



“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly,

but rarely admit the changes it has gone through

to achieve that beauty.”

Maya Angelou



“Butterfly Wishes” by X. E. Dixon

2010 Life Psalms Collection

Photo by Natalia Mungia 2010




Facebook Twitter Email