“Write like you used to run. For the pure joy of it.” –#FiveMinuteFriday –>click to tweet.

On Fridays around these parts we like to write. Not for comments or traffic or anyone else’s agenda. But for pure love of the written word. For joy at the sound of syllables, sentences and paragraphs all strung together by the voice of the speaker.

We love to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. For five minutes flat.

Here’s how we do it:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat on the prompt “After” with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in {you can grab the button code in my blog’s footer}.

3. Go and tell the person who linked up before you what their words meant to you. Every writer longs to feel heard.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes for the prompt:




Close your eyes. Breathe deep. Unclench your hands. Open your eyes. See the road before you – full of ups and downs and bumps and twists and turns. People waiting to teach, to listen, to hold you up, to be a shoulder, share a dream, push through the wretched bits together. Beautiful one, you are called and set apart for a purpose that is unique as the fingerprint swirl on your hand. You are cherished and chosen and never overlooked. You are wildly loved, yes even your broken bits and pieces. Your lost stories. Your unhappy endings. You are not forgotten. You are called according to a purpose and it’s not the same as hers. You are made for your own story. You are invited on a rugged adventure and all you have to do is jump.

Scared is normal. It’s not brave if you’re not scared. But He holds your whole story in your hands. Not just the shiny bits. Not just the perfect endings. He holds the doubts and worries and desperate midnight prayers in His hands. All of it. All of it is wanted and welcome and home in the hands of the Potter who sculpted this one unique life that bears your name.

Run, jump, skip, crawl if you have to. Friend, you were made for a journey. We’re traveling to that city on a hill. One step at a time. One jumping and leaping and praising God step at a time. Even on the worst days. Especially then.