five minute friday:: mess

I'm writing my five-minute-friday post on Friday, AGAIN.  Although I skipped last week, so maybe I shouldn't pat myself on the back too enthusiastically.

 

 If you would like to join in on the fun, check out all the details here.

Today's prompt is :: mess.

***go***

Messy-bessies.  That is what I call my boys sometimes.  I, myself, am a self-proclaimed messy-bessie on most days.  We often find ourselves in a state that can be classified as a "mess."  I've come to be at peace with that.  Which technically, wasn't all that hard of a struggle because I have never been called a "neat freak."  Ever.  But as a stay-at-home mom I always put a certain amount of pressure on myself to make sure Brad came home to a clean house.  OK, clean-ish house.

A home with twin toddlers is a bit more of a challenge to keep clean-ish, I think.  One particularly rough day, Brad came home and nobody was happy.  Crankiness, shouting, pitching-fits -- and that was just me.  After the bliss of bedtime rolled around Brad and I kind of unpacked the day.  I talked about how frustrating it is to try and get things done before he got home and how I hated that I never felt like I could keep up.

He said, "I would rather come home to a messy house, than a bunch of screaming."

Y'all, that about set me free.  I no longer put pressure on myself to try and get things done, nor did I let guilt settle in if I saw unfolded laundry in the basket or tons of freaking grass on the carpet.  Peace in the home was a better choice.

Don't get me wrong, I'll always struggle with keeping a clean-ish house and I certainly didn't accept his statement as a free pass to never do any housework.  It just set me free to do the work at my pace and with peace.

***stop***

five minute friday:: paint

Wow. Things are getting crazy around these parts!  Its Friday AND I'm writing my five-minute-friday post TODAY!  Yesterday, I was early to an appointment (and neither Brad nor my grandma was with me!).  What next?  

So anyway, as you know Lisa-Jo Baker invites the internets to write along with her for five minutes on Fridays.  You can read about it here, if you want to jump on board with her.

Today's prompt is -- PAINT.

***GO***

It is sort of a hassle.

Something to cover the table.  Make sure the shirts are OK for the mess.  Track down various size paint brushes - and make sure the bristles aren't falling out all willy-nilly.  Get little cups out for water and carefully fold up a paper towel for dabbing off excess.

And let them paint.

They'll sit still for a long stretch.  Always dipping their brushes in color, then water, then slipping it across the paper.  Next color.  Then the next.  After they've swiped a little of each color, the colors start mingling.

Dipping, slipping, dripping across the paper.

Its messy.  But they are creating and they are happy about it.

I don't ever want the fear of a mess to cause me to hold back the boys' creativity.

Paint is one of those mediums that just spreads and moves so effortlessly.  Let the brush fly and the colors burst and there is almost always something beautiful in the aftermath.  Even if only to a mother's eye.

Messes happen.  But often the beauty is hard to find before the mess.  So let the mess come and watch as the beauty unfolds.  There is joy along the way, and also some learning opportunities when I take the time to listen in on my little artists.  You know, "oh look what happens when the red and blue blend together!"

Yes, its a hassle.  Sure, its a mess.

But the effort?  Its worth it.  And if I don't have artwork for my wall at the end of it, at the very least, I  have a memory to hold onto.  And so do my little creative dudes.

***STOP***

and who can write about her messy artists and not include a picture?  

five minute friday :: writer

guess what?  it's five-minute friday again.  On Saturday!

Click here if you are interested in linking up with others that pushing themselves to get their words out.  Lisa- Jo Baker is the best sort of encourager out there!

This week's prompt :: writer  {I know, right?}

*** GO ***

There is a stigma with some titles.  Others, I'll slap them on myself easily. 

Mother?  Sure, got the kids to prove it.
Teacher?  You betcha!  At one time I even had a sweater-vest with apples appliqued on it. 
Cheerleader?  If I'm wearing the uniform, I'll claim it :)

But writer?  That's a weird one.  It feels awkward and clumsy and not quite right to put by my own name.

Not unlike, runner.  That's another title I struggle to associate with myself.  I feel as awkward as can be at the running store for "real runners."  I'm sure the "real runners" on the trail note my newbie-ness and graceless form.

But you know what?  It feels good when I run.  I might not really feel like going for a run while I'm lacing up my shoes.  I often huff and puff and turn beet-red while my feet pound the pavement in a thumping rhythm. But it always feels good when I finish a run.  Even if I don't call myself a runner.

I think the same is true with the writing.  It feels good when I write.  I might put it off.  I might feel like its a silly thing to "make time" for, but it feels good when I get the words out -- the words I've carried around for a day or a week or longer.  It always feels good when I finish something I've written.  Even if I don't plan to publish it, it feels right.  Even if I don't call myself a writer.

So I'll just keep on doing it.  Whether I'll allow myself to be associated with the title or not. 

*** STOP ***

five minute friday :: mighty

 It's five minute friday again.  Here are my five minutes of words.  Click here if you'd like to join in with Lisa-Jo and her five minute friday community.

 

Start:

I am a thinker of thoughts.  When something happens I think about it a lot.

I'm praying for a dear friend this week.  She is in her 20th week of pregnancy.  She lost her previous two children at 19 weeks and 21 weeks.  I can barely wrap my thoughts around this.  How her heart longs to hope while also wonders if hoping is wise.  I pray that God is present in mighty ways, that He shows Himself to be mighty in the middle of these difficult moments.

I'm praying for Alyssa, too.  Continually.  She bravely keeps breathing each day.  Moment by moment she lives.  I can barely comprehend the weight of her hurt.  I know nothing else to do but share His words with her and pray for her so often.  So I beg our Mighty God to be near, to hold close, to carry through.  I beg Him to show a glimpse of His mighty glory and believe Him to give her enough wisdom, peace, strength, and courage to walk one more step, each day.

I'm praying for children in foster care, for the ones that are far away from the birth families through no fault of their own.  I pray that God would lean in to their lives and wrap His mighty arms around them.  I pray that He would rise up believers to not only love this children, but to stand in the mess and love their families too.  I am praying that He would lend His mighty power to the ones He calls so they can stand firm in the hard places.

Our world is broken.  Hurt abounds.  The weight of the hurt can sometimes feel too heavy, too much, too overwhelming.

While I am thinking all the thoughts, all I know to do is call out to the One who is Mighty.

[Stop!]

"Now glory be to God, who by his mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of—infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, or hopes."  Ephesians 3:20 (Living Bible)

five minute friday :: crowd

Here's my link up to Lisa-Jo Baker's.  Even later this week than last! But, you know, better late than never, right?

 

 five minute friday :: crowd

As the day gets away from me, words crowd into my thoughts, my mind.  Things I maybe should've gotten done.  Things maybe I shouldn't have said.  Crowding around, filling up the space.  Its heavy at times.  That crowd of shove-me-around-drag-me-down words.  They try to crowd out the silly giggles we shared at lunch or the happy-after-school-tales.

But there is a quiet voice in that crowd.  Its that Voice that speaks truth.  It reminds me to remember the good, the gifts, the blessings.  It reminds me to be grateful.  To hold tight and speak up about the sweet moments that filled more of the day.

The Voice also reminds me that there is some Truth to glean from that crowd of end-of-the-day words too.  I surely can be more careful about what I say, and more careful with how I spend my time.  But the true voice speaks differently than those crowded words -- it speaks with Love, and with Hope, and with Grace.  It speaks of Mercy.

There is no condemnation here, not like in the crowded-jumbled words.

five minute friday :: willing

five minute friday -- on a Saturday!  {Rulebreaker!}

I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo and the special space that she has carved out for others to share their words.  Check here if you are interested in joining in!

Ready. Set.  GO!

Willing.

I say I am willing.  I want to use my gifts for His glory.  Yes I sure do.

Except when fear holds me back.  Or when I assume my gift is really just too ordinary.  Surely everyone has been told, "you should write a book!"  At least that I is what I tell myself.  When people say, "you are a gifted writer".  I more or less shrug my shoulders, kick some dirt around my toes and assume everyone that writes anything online hears this often.

So I discount my gift. The one I have repeatedly said I am willing to use.  I put it off.  I read every tutorial on pinterest for making a baby hat before deciding to just use the first one I found.  Then if I really want to put off writing, I'll go ahead and read the comments on that tutorial.  And hey! since this tutorial is so well-written maybe there are other tutorials I should look for by this person.

And the time I willingly set aside to write, is gone.

So am I really willing?

As I mopped yesterday and the dudes painted and I sang lyrics out loud. . . this one stopped me cold, "I don't want to be a thief who's stealing your glory."*  And it hit me.  I could steal His glory if I claim success as my own. If I don't acknowledge my writing as His gift.  But maybe, just maybe,  I also steal it when I choose to hide it away.  Keep it hidden and safe.

***
 Lyrics are from a song by Ellie Holcomb called, "Only Hope I've Got."  Her songs are scripture-based and hope-filled and all around lovely.  Always.

five minute friday :: small

While talking with one of my "encouragers" last week, she asked if I was still thinking about doing five minute Fridays to help me get back at writing.  I hemmed + hawed.  (Is that how you spell that?)  Very non-committal.

But today the prompt just fits with how I am feeling.  Small. 

***

Brad sent the text with "call me ASAP"  So I parked the cart off to the side and made the call.

There had been a shooting in the parking lot downtown.  At the DFCS office.  I think it took me at least 30 seconds to figure out what had just been spoken.

Then I remembered my friend was making a delivery down there today.  She had collected clothing from schools and day care centers around town as a special way to love on Foster Care kiddos for Valentine's. {She works with an organization called Live Your Love Loud, please check them out if you would like.}

I sent her a text.  She was there, but she was ok. 

I fumbled around the commissary with our double-steering-wheel cart.  My heart was broken for the workers that had lost one of their own. 

I felt small.  Helpless. 

I exchanged a few more texts with my friend that was in the office and with the caseworker I know best.  What I really wanted to do was curl up in a corner of the commissary and sob.

This broken world.  These heartaches. 

But I had that double cart overflowing with elbows and giggles and some shoving and reaching.  So I just kept pushing my cart through the commissary and praying God's presence and peace to be mighty in the offices downtown today. 

The real prayer of my heart is "come Lord Jesus."  I just want Him to come pick me up and hold me close and wipe away all of these tears and fix all of the broken pieces.  My own hurt is so very small in comparison to what others are carrying today.  Yet He sees my small.  And He doesn't dismiss it.

***

I don't feel right linking this up to the five-minute-Friday-party today, so I'm just going to quietly post it here.

Here is a link to the story.  Click here.

Please pray with me for the family members and friends of the victim. 

five minute friday :: lonely

This week's prompt is :: lonely.

GO

Oh this word.  It has so much meaning wrapped up in.  And I have felt it in so many places.  It strikes me as most strange when I feel lonely while surrounded by others.  When Brad was deployed and I went to church on Sundays - the day of the week that their were more people around me, I felt the loneliest.  That sticks with me still, and even now I can't not reach out for his hand to hold whenever we get to worship together.

I've felt lonely in really lonely places too.  There is almost something appealing for a little bit of loneliness.  Is that even OK to say?  I think when I feel lonely, I seek the One that has promised that I am never alone.  So even if at that moment, on this earth, there is no one else - my confidence grows in knowing He is with me.  Those reminders are always the good kind, especially in lonely places.

Lonely looks different for everyone.  We wear it our own way.  Its not always something we like to talk about, and it often feels heavy to share it with others.  But every time I breathe the feeling of loneliness to another soul?  There is almost always a reassuring "me too" nearby.  We need each other to carry our loneliness, it lightens the load, and reminds us that we aren't alone... even when we are lonely.

STOP.

Oh you five minutes are quick!  Also?  It is super weird to not spell check and reread what I wrote before hitting publish. 

Thinking about joining in?  The rules are simple as can be:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in {you can grab the button code in my blog footer}.
3. Go and comment on the post of the person who linked up before you. This is the one rule of this community.

Go here to find out more!

five minute friday :: broken

I'm writing with a timer set for five minutes, the writing prompt this week is broken.

GO

Last night I saw a little heart break.  Daddy was at men's bible study so while I slathered the boys in lotion (just the youngest two) and got their jammies on, we talked about where Daddy was.  Because normally, he's on the floor with me for this part - and some nights its just him doing it.  So when he's not there, he is missed.

We talked about how Daddy loves God and he goes to bible study to learn more about Him.  And that it helps Daddy love us better.  I told the boys, in toddler language, that we could pray for the job God is getting ready for Daddy.

I don't know what I said, but the saddest little cry came from Lincoln, "MY DADDY!"  Just over and over, "my daddy, my daddy!"

I reassured him that Daddy would ALWAYS be his daddy - no matter what his new job might be. "Daddy will always always always be your daddy, Lincoln."

When we came downstairs I had to retell a bit of the story to the big boys because Lincoln & Franklin were repeating parts of our talk, like, "Love God" and what not.  When I told the part about Lincoln getting upset, he lost it.

Bawled.  Heart broken.  "My daddy!"  All over again, but louder and sadder this time.

I don't know what triggered this deep fear in this little heart, but I know it was real.  Even there was nothing about it to understand, I knew his little heart was broken at the thought of his daddy getting a new job that didn't involve him being his daddy.

Daddy will always always always be YOUR Daddy.

done.  

I feel like there is so much more to say about this.  But I am a rule follower.  I am ignoring the grammatical errors up there, and linking this up anyway.

Lisa Jo's blog is down because of that fantastically, awesome post she wrote about her husband this week.  It was shared around so much that it made her blog crash.  So she's hosting the link-up on FB today.  You can find her here, if you want to check it out.

five minute friday - present

I am doing the five-minute-friday thing again.I thought I would include the rules if you want to see them... its pretty simple!
 
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

See? Simple!

 

Present.  GO:

This morning when I went out for my run, I didn't turn on a playlist.  It was just me, my heavy breathing, that lady from runkeeper periodically telling me how fast to run, and my prayers.

I prayed for a friend that is pregnant, in the at-risk-years; and she's weary.  I prayed for renewed energy and confidence.  I prayed she would sense His presence.

I prayed for a job for Brad.  Not just one that pays the bills, but one that floods his heart and challenges him everyday to seek God's presence more. 

I prayed for a courtdate with a little baby in the middle, and all of the hearts that will be impacted for a lifetime by the decision today.  I only know to believe that God is present there.

I prayed for housing for friends, and upcoming moves, and challenges that might measure small to some but are big when they are right in front of you.

I felt his presence as I ran around my little bitty neighborhood streets.  I know He heard these prayers and that He interceded in ways that I didn't know how.  It is refreshing to run in His presence even in the heat and humidity here.

He is always present.  Sometimes I just ignore Him.  I hate that.  I hope He continues to draw me closer.

{so much that I want to go back and edit here.  But I am following the rules anyway}

five minute friday : beautiful

I am taking a little bit of a departure here, I thought I should tell the four of you that read this thing on a regular basis.  I've decided to participate in a writing-prompt-party on Fridays.  It's only five minutes and anyone can join.  I thought it would be a fun way to get some words out there without thinking too terribly much about it.  I'm writing this introduction after I did my "five minutes" and I gotta admit, I am a bit of a sweaty mess after that timer starts - and maybe a teensy bit more so before linking up.  I think its good to stretch a bit though.  Feel free to check out the party here.





Five Minute Friday

BEAUTIFUL

I used to think the word beautiful applied to things like sunsets, and rainbows, and super models and artwork.  I thought "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" meant that it was something that changed from person to person.  But I don't think that anymore.  I think the beholder can train her eye to see beauty...  and pretty soon there are beautiful things all around.

A toddler hand on a mommy arm.  Boys that scramble to the door when daddy comes home.  Clouds racing across a bright blue sky.  Fresh fruit for picking.  Dream-sharing date nights.  A grandmother that repeats the same answer to grandpa over and over, with the same intonation each time; weary but not giving up.  Sisters laughing.  Brothers throwing crab-apples.   Squirt guns in baby fingers.  Ice cream cones dribbling down fingers, arms, shirts and pants.

STOP!

If you might be interested in joining in on the fun you can click right here to find out all of the details.  This is my second week doing it, and I will admit I am not nearly as sweaty as I was last week. ;)  TMI?

in between

So much of life happens in the in-between.  And there is such variety there too.

The vulnerable in-between moments of removing the swim cover and finding "cover" again in the pool.  Just moments, but so bare.

The in-between dragging days of a deployment and a redeployment.  The days that drag by and the guilt that hangs on the days when life really happens well.  The desperate wish to be together again throughout all those long in-between days.

Then there is the summer in-between days.  The best kind of in-between.  No worries, no hurries, just fun-filled days for the kiddos.  They learn to really live in the in-between, don't they.

The in-between jobs.  And in-between pant sizes.  In-between homes, straddling the past and the future in a hotel or someone else's home.

-stop-

So, wow, that is like the world's fastest five minutes ever.  Its my first time... well, actually I tried it once before but I forgot to turn the volume up on the desktop so I didn't hear the timer go off.  So this is my first real #fiveminutefriday.  Yikes!

Read more of the in between thoughts by checking out Lisa Jo's blog.  Click here!