I have a new baby. A girl. And two boys. Life feels wild. Some days I worry about failing motherhood.

But then I spend five minutes with you fine people and I remember. I remember how powerful the written word is. To encourage, to laugh, to cheer, to pray, to listen, and love. Sometimes all it takes is five minutes. Five minutes to just write, and not worry if it’s just right or not.

Kind of like how friendship should be.

Got five minutes? Here’s a great way to spend them.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat without editing your voice.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Pony up the comment love for the five minuter who linked up before you.

I love reading what you write – it’s five minute art that lasts a lifetime. And it gives me a chance to give one of you a little somethin’ somethin’ from DaySpring, who I love more than cotton candy!

Last week the God Loves You Like Crazy Wind Chime went to Martha @Gritty Grace!

This week the My Beloved Photo Frame is up for grabs.

OK, are you ready?

Give me your best five minutes for the prompt:

On Forgetting….

GO

Sometimes I worry I’m going to forget. Sometimes I worry that three and a half years can erase a lifetime’s work of my five senses. I don’t want to forget. Even before we board a plane in June I want to begin to remember.

What the veld smells like when it’s on fire in winter as we drive home from the airport through the dusk and the deep warmth of familiarity. How you all sound. How you all rush at us through customs and wave and shout and shameless hug right there where all the other passengers are trying to squeeze through to the arms waiting for them. How Jackson and Karabo and Micah three amigo it all the way to the car. How there are presents and hands holding onto pant legs because it’s so impossible to believe they’re for real.

I want to forget this ache of homesickness in the deep homecoming of remembering first hand. How you all laugh and love us a lifetime’s worth in three weeks.

STOP

{Hard to believe that photo was taken in my dad’s garden in South Africa three years ago. My new daughter is the size that my baby son was then.}

OK, your turn – show me what you’ve got.

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