I knew it was coming. After seven years of marriage, it was bound to happen. It was only a question of which one would go first. But when I heard the strange banging, I knew. I grabbed my cell phone and pressed speed dial 2, turning it on speaker phone while it was still ringing. "Can you hear that noise?" I asked my husband when he answered. "I don't think my washing machine is supposed to sound like that." I was washing a heavy load of jeans and hoped it was just a random occurrence. But when my husband checked the washing machine at lunch, the drum was just sort of floating in ... Read More
Five Minute Friday
I joined in that very first week, that very first prompt Lisa-Jo Baker shared. She wanted to know what we could write in 5 minutes flat. And apparently, so did we. Because Five Minute Friday became a weekly tradition across the blogosphere.
I wrote exactly 100 Five Minute Friday posts during those first three years. And I loved every five minutes. The time limit pushed me, the word prompt challenged me. Many a week God used my Five Minute Friday post to show me a very important lesson. Some of those posts became my favorites and yours.
So here they are, the best of my Five Minute Friday posts. May they speak to you as they spoke to me.
"So how are things going with you all lately?" I heard one mom ask another. And the other laughed, "Are you sure that's a question you really want answered?" We need the friends who ask how we are and wait for the messy, convoluted truth. We need the friends who ask the questions that get more than one-syllable answers. But we also need the friends who will tell us something other than the cold, unvarnished truth. "I'm a horrible artist," the four-year-old bemoans. "I'll never be able to draw anything!" And her big sister reassures her, "You're a good artist, Mary. I'll help you ... Read More
She's there behind me, every time I look in the mirror. Comparing her reflection to mine. She shakes her head, that one with the perfect complexion. That size 0 waist mocks me. I hear her disapproving voice inside my head every time I try to pull on a pair of jeans. The ones that won't quite button. The ones that don't cover my bulges. She laughs as I dig through my dresser drawers, looking for something, anything that will make me feel pretty today. She taunts me from my closet where I pull clothes from hangers and pull them over my head only to toss them on my bed in despair. I know ... Read More
I am Javert. I see everything black and white. Justice, all must be fair. Yet, I am Eponine. Dirty and rotten. Ever failing. So desperately in need of mercy. Then there are my little Cosettes looking up at me. Innocent in so many ways yet already in need of grace. And I feel the struggle of Jean Valjean. As my words and actions define for these little ones both justice and mercy. I must show them their sin so that they will understand grace. Yet if I am to be shown mercy, mercy must always triumph. Five-Minute Friday Prompt: Mercy ... Read More
"Where did you get that red hair?" My brother and I heard the question over and over growing up, since we sported identical shades of dark red hair--mine curly, his anything but. "From both sides of the family," we'd explain. We had three great grandpas with red hair, only one of whom we ever knew. Great Grandpa Roberts didn't have any hair left by the time we were sitting at his feet, listening to stories while he cracked walnuts and smoked a pipe. But in his younger days, he'd been known as "Red Roberts". "When red headed people are above a certain social grade their hair is ... Read More
Sunday morning worship time isn't always very conducive to worship when you're a mom. I breathe a big sigh of relief if we even make it there on time and in one piece. And then I try to sing the right words at the right time while balancing a child in one arm and a song book in the other. I turn from breaking up a fight between to children to whispering to another, "put down your book and stand up and sing". We're told not to give up the meeting together. Because the fellowship that happens there is priceless, even if the worship time leaves me with hardly any time for worship at ... Read More
In the evenings, the small folk pile on the couch around and on top of my husband for story time. Dan Frontier, The Wizard of Oz, Johnny Tractor—now that they’ve finished the Little House series, it’s a different selection every night. And it’s always good incentive to finish their dinner so bath time can be followed by story time. Whether it’s about a hunter on the frontier, or a girl far from home, the stories capture their attention, taking their little imaginations far and wide. Hours later, the sun set, the dishes done, the children quiet (at least for the moment), my husband and I ... Read More
Throughout the generations, civilization's story has been passed on verbally, carved in stone, and scratched in pen and ink. Sometimes it is the layers of earth that uncover the record; sometimes it is within the covers of a book that the story is found. But my generation's story is being recorded in pixels and in posts. We send text messages instead of telegrams. Our pictures are quick cell phone shots that we never print instead of carefully posed portraits that take hours to develop. We record our private thoughts in public, "live" journals instead of diaries protected by lock and key. ... Read More
Some rules were made to be broken. Especially when it comes to writing prompts and blog link-ups like Five Minute Friday. Each week I participate in a link-up hosted by Lisa-Jo Baker. The idea is to write for five minutes flat about the prompt of the week. But the very idea of writing for only five minutes is enough to scare some people away. “There is no way in the whole wide world I can write in five minutes,” admitted one beautiful and talented blogger I know. But Five Minute Friday isn’t about timed writing—it’s not a contest. Five Minute Friday is about not letting perfectionism get ... Read More
“Was it hard, moving away from your family?” they ask. “Weren’t you homesick?” I always smile as I shake my head. I’d been homesick for him for so long that I couldn’t be homesick when we were finally making a home together. Yes, there were the adjustments of a new town, a new job, finding a new church. And it wasn’t always easy—especially when my new husband landed in the hospital two months after we got married. But I was facing each challenge and change at the side of the man I loved; I knew I was where I belonged. “There where my heart has settled long ago… there with my love, ... Read More