It’s Friday. Take a breath.
Two days of rest are headed toward us like bright and beautiful waves of hope.
Let’s write, shall we? Without wondering if it’s right or not.
Take five minutes and remember what it feels like to weave words together for the simple pleasure of how they sound. Without worrying about how they’re edited or perfected.
- 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Get a little crazy with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.
I’m older today. And I find I fit into this woman’s skin better than I did a year ago. I am becoming the surest version of myself. I feel it in my heart. Sometimes I feel it in my tired feet too. But those simply tell me I’ve been busy. Busy with children and their wrangling and wrestling and carrying and tending and it is a soulful kind of busy.
I am not afraid anymore of who I will grow up to be.
There is a friend to fishermen who waits for me in the mornings and I slip small hand into his big rough one and I know the day will be OK. The day, the next year, the seasons still too come.
I feel the wrinkles climbing happy around and about my eyes, my cheeks, testimony to laughter and life. I feel so full of the wonder of being alive. Even on the days I am tired or frustrated or desperate for an hour to myself. I am aware that the God who made me finds me useful and this is a miracle to me.
I want to wink at Him when I’m sitting there in the dark rocking a baby girl in that faded yellow rocker. Because I know He knows this is the good stuff. These are the moments like treasure hidden for us to stub our toes on, since we’re not expecting it.
Boys who bury their heads in my chest and stifle me with their hugs. A baby who gummy grins any time I enter the room. A man who wants to dash out at 9pm after taking the long bus route home to go and buy cake.
This is older. This is better. This is good.
OK, your turn – show me what you’ve got.