Tag: Five Minute Friday

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5 Minute Friday ~ Hands

It’s been a while, but it’s good to refresh myself with this community I had joined a some months back. Tonight I decided to return and join in the Five Minute Friday party with Lisa Jo Baker. 

dirty-hands

 

My hands are caked with grime and dirt that won’t let go. It seems the  harder I scrub to get them clean, the more they cling to the deepest crevices.

That’s the thing about our hands – they are dirty.

Marred with the stains of sin, of misspoken words, angry looks, dishonest gains, broken trust. So much ugliness in our lives that our hands reflect the places in which we reach.

Tar from the pit of self pity. Stained from the depth of shame. Twisted and wrenching we move them back and forth. Trying to get them clean.

Like scrubbing them off will release the burden of the weight upon our backs.

No matter how hard we rub, scratch and rake our fingers across our skin. There is nothing we can ever do to make them clean.

Let Jesus renew you.

 

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This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

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5 Minute Friday ~ Visit

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I stand at the door and knock. No wait, I sit at my computer screen – and write.  She’s there waiting for me on the other side. My friend, we visit. Oh how we visit!

I have been blessed with the most precious friend.  I have found that the more I visit and get to know her, the more I want to spend time with her. It’s like drinking in a fine wine. You savor it at first, letting the flavor enlighten you as you ingest. But eventually it’s so good you just have to drink a good long swig!

My friend and I, we dive deep. We’ve explored the depths of one another’s hearts already in the short time we have been together. She’s scaled a few ravines in dark, hard places and I have thrown her the rope a time or two to tie around her waist and pull her up. Oh wait, or was that she to me?

I smile.

That’s the thing about this friendship. The more we visit, the more we see Him. God! The one who brought us together in the first place. The author of life, the provider of hope, the giver of grace and crafter of love Himself. He pours into the crevices of our hearts and the more we share and speak, the more we see it’s Him! He’s writing on the walls of our hearts, creating symphonies with songs of praise and thanksgiving and drawing maps to guide our way. Not to the destination, oh no – just where to take the next step.

Isn’t that what happens the more we visit with precious friends? We commune in such a way, that love is found, is given and is shared.

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This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ Fly

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You were born to fly.

Cliche, yes. Truth, even more so.

Life, we life it just once. We muddle through our days and often wonder what for. Why are we here? What is our purpose? Really, just why?

Are our days meant to be drudgery? Do we spend our time thrifty and dole out what is the minimum required? Or..

Are we meant for more?

Like an eagle soars high above the earth looking down at the world as it sees it. So too we can fly, soaring high above the daily to do lists. High above the appointments, the schedules, the meetings, the kids, the spouses, the in-laws, life as we know it. The commitments in life, which wear us down, hold us back and keep us grounded. Not grounded in the solid faith, oh no, grounded as it “air traffic control – you are cleared for take off.”

See, our lives, our time, our purpose, our hopes and dreams, they all speak to us and whisper like a prayer unsaid, “fly.” Let go! You can do it, no wait – you don’t have to do it – just buckle on up, it’s time to let your spirit soar!

No longer do the images on the ground have that satiellite view, small plots of land and figures that you can barely make out. Oh no, now there are people with passion, prayers to be said and ways to love with abandon.

You, me, we were so born to fly. To release all that we are into the Godhead Himself and walk in ways that reveal our true nature.

He’s ready and willing to lead the way.

Prepare for take off!

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This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ Grace

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Grace.

It’s time. It really time my friend, my sister. Time to give yourself grace. To bless yourself, to love yourself, to accept yourself  – to receive this precious gift of grace. That gift that offers hope to a wounded, hurting soul. That moment when nothing else can satisfy your heart than the touch that comes from the Master’s very own Hand.

Grace.

A touch, a smile, a common tear shed. It is the balm of a gift that wraps you up in it’s embrace. Comfortable, pleasurable, warm. Inviting you to sit in the light of His Presence and wait. Soaking in the grace as the waves of His love wash over you. Gently pulling away your self defeating thoughts and allowing His grace to cover you and complete you.

It comes at times we don’t think we deserve it, when we want to walk away from it and deny it. Maybe we want to offer it others but not accept it for ourselves. We share it with our friends, our sisters, our children – it’s time, long past time, we give it to ourselves.

Grace.

My friend, it’s time you receive. Receive His grace, drink from His cup. Be filled. Let His grace fill you to overflowing.

This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”
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5 Minute Friday ~ Laundry

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Laundry –

Piles and piles of it everywhere. Faded jeans, worn shirts and sweaters we are so comfortable in. Laundry. It’s often scattered about our rooms, thrown on the floor or tossed in our beds.  Something which is so normal, routine, is oh, so far from it!

Like our lives, splashed across the screen of time, is the laundry spewn about. Used, discarded, worn and downright dirty.

Yes, aren’t we?

So full of dirt and grime even the toughest bleach can’t eliminate the stain. Our hearts, filled with doubts, our minds, filled with thoughts and our bodies racked with pain.

Used, discarded…worn.

It’s these scattered about hearts and lives that our Savior came for, is it not? To not just clean and stack our laundry, but purify our the deepest crevices of our hearts so that the laundry can sit, thrown about, but no longer worn. Like newly purchased fabric, are our hearts washed anew with the rhythm of His own cycle.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

In Him you are clean.

This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ Write

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Write.

I learned this about myself, I like to write. Do I consider myself a writer? No. But oh how I love to ponder the thoughts that flow through my mind and the heart of myself, but also my God.

That’s why I write.

I write to make sense, discern, decipher and meditate on who I am in light of who He is. To unravel His mysteries and in doing so, claim my own heritage. To walk in who I am, and who I was created to be from the very beginning.

When I write, I am finding my voice.

Not your voice, or the wives voice, or the daughter’s voice, the sister’s voice. My voice. This place deep inside of me opens up and words tumble out. Like the pen flowing across the page, the ink staining my hands are the imprints of words upon my heart. They tug, the dig, the uncover and they teach.

Oh how they teach me. About… me.

That’s the wonderful thing about writing, you tell a story or you uncover one as you go. I don’t mind grabbing ahold of the pen, as He writes my story.

I hold the pen, He writes. I yield, and peace reigns.

This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ True

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True.

Really? That’s my immediate thought. How can I write about what’s true when I look around my life asking myself the same question. Just what is true?

All is quiet, my mind comes up empty. For I don’t see truth, only deception.

Hidden faces, hearts shielded in. We walk, we talk, we pretend through this very life we live. Saying the right things, doing the things and even trying… to be true.

All I can cling to, all I know to be true, is what is being revealed to me by my Creator God. He is true.

He is love. Holy. Kind. Peace. Joy. Mercy. Sacrifice. Forgiveness. Hope.

He is true.

The very things I try to “be,” He is. The very ways I yearn to serve. He is. The very ways I desire to praise. He is.

All else won’t stand, doesn’t hold up, won’t last, crumbles as He whispers.

He is true.

This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ She

She wondered how it ever got this way. How did her life become nothing like she thought it might be? She chose to do the “right” things, or so she thought. She believed in God, she raised her kids in a Bible believing church, she stayed  faithful to her husband. She did the things that were supposed to bring happiness, joy, contentment. Peace.

She found herself, empty. Unfulfilled of joy, of emotion, of life. Somehow just muddling through when all along the purpose and meaning just seeped out of her life.

She was lost. Adrift. No longer who she was, or thought she was.

In these moments of loss, of grief and agony. She learned to feel, to cry, to be. Her life transformed from what she did, into who she was. She can’t even pinpoint it, yet she sees it so clearly now.

She lives. For probably the very first time, she lives! She moves from a place within her that no longer conforms to others expectations of her, or those she placed upon herself.

It’s Her God she desires, with all that she is.

She just is.

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This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ Red

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Crimson. Dark and flowing.

From His brow it slows trickles down. Sometimes bright but often with interlaced with darker shades of red as it streaks across His face. His arms and legs, bound and nailed, bleed this same color. This dried up, caked on, flowing ~ red.

It’s what’s paid my price. It’s what sets me free. It’s what leads me on. It’s what brings me peace.

His precious blood.

It’s like a free flowing river that doesn’t stop. The tides rise high and low with seasons, yet it’s constant. Movement. Not gushing, a trickle is just enough to cleanse you. I might want to jump right in and be clean, with reckless abandon I fall in. Yet it’s the smallest of crevices that need to be reached, that come clean, in the slow moving, drip by drip, drops of blood….

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This post is part of Five Minute Friday’s, a five minute weekly reflection on a word prompt. No edits, no do overs, just write.  As Lisa writes, “No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.”

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5 Minute Friday ~ Belong

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Belong ~

That longing to just be. Be who you were created to be. Not something we dream, but who we are. Create a world in which we think we live, in which we hope to move. Yet, in the end of the day, it’s about this one word. Belong.

I do not belong.

Really.

I long for many things, but rarely do I sense that I belong. That I am a part of something bigger than myself. Rather, that which I long for is so much bigger than me. For now, I embrace that freedom. That uniqueness. And I wonder.

Am I really made to belong anyways? Am I to be one with this world? If so, then perhaps, I may need to rethink how I live.

For I am called, into oneness, and I long for it.

Yet, who I long for, what I long for, is something much more than this world. It’s for the Creator of this world Himself.

Maybe then, I will.

Belong.

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This post if the first of my journey into Five Minute Fridays, a 5 minute exploration on a word prompt.

Join along, learn more about it here.

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